Gypsy Girl (1966) - full transcript

Seventeen-year-old Brydie White (Hayley Mills) is emotionally stunted due to an accidental shooting death with which she was involved when she was an adolescent, the incident which she doesn't remember. Mrs. White (Annette Crosby), a widow, recluse, and alcoholic, still treats her daughter like a child, although she pays her daughter little attention. However, Brydie is physically becoming a young woman. Always fascinated by death, Brydie's new pastime is to bury any dead animal in the local church graveyard. She has convinced all of the young children of her small English rural town to do the same, the animal plots complete with grave markers. These animal burials are the last straw for many of the townsfolk, who see Brydie as a menace and bad influence who should be locked away. The vicar, Reverend Philip Moss (Geoffrey Bayldon), although as perturbed by the animal graves as anyone, does understand Brydie's position more than anyone in the town and wants to do what is best for her. When it looks like Brydie is in some real danger, Roibin Krisenki (Ian McShane), one in a band of Gypsies recently settled in the area, takes it upon himself to be her savior.

Julian!

Bang!

Julian, stop it!

Bang! Bang!

Julian!

Get out of here!

Get out of here!

Don't you know the law?

No ruddy dogs allowed disturbing the peace

and lifting their ruddy
legs on no tombstones!

He don't ever lift his
ruddy leg, do you, dog?



You know you've been forbid to go near

that grave, specially.

Don't care if I am.

I like putting flowers on this grave.

And put flowers on his grave, I will.

I'll tell Mr. Dacres.

Tell God if you like.

Go on, get out!

No! No!

Get out of here!

Look, it's my job. Get out of here.

Hey! Argh!

You gyppo!

Why can't she put flowers there?



Bottle up your running gyppo!

Why can't she?

Because it's me orders, that's why.

From who?

Mr. Dacres, that's who.

That's his boy's grave,

and he don't want her near it.

I'm sexton here, and what I says goes.

No half-witted girls, no
dogs lifting their legs,

and no gyppos, got it?

Right.

Who was he then?

Don't know.

Why you put flowers on him?

Don't know.

I like graves.

What's your name?

Brydie White.

Brydie White.

What's your name?

Robin Kirsenki.

Oh.

Oh, that's about lifting his leg.

He waits. Don't you, dog?

Does it on the Hebron
district council gate.

Come on, dog.

Hey, don't go.

Why not?

Like talking to you.

It's teatime.

Come on, dog.

You see?

Now what is it?

What's the matter?

Harold's dead.

Who?

My hamster.

Oh.

And...

And Nelly's down right poorly.

Why?

Don't know.

You don't look after the
dratted things, do you?

You just go off and play,
rather than look at them.

I play with 'em every day.

Run up by arm, they do.

Get in me dress and
have a good look around.

Disgusting, I call it.

Waste of money, I call it.

I hate things.

Always going wrong.

It's not plugged in.

Nelly.

Will you take her pulse?

No, don't be daft!

Some of your gin then?

Unless you want to send
her out in an alcoholic haze.

Did you give him any water?

No, they get green stuff and-

- Well how long since they had water then?

Two weeks.

Two weeks?

Don't you understand, no
one can live without water.

That's murder, that is.

If it get me pen filler?

Bring him in then.

Here you are.

Poor little mite.

I think Nelly's at peace.

You're right, and I
think she's gone too.

What shall I do with them then?

Bury them, of course.

Where?

Oh, anywhere do you like.

But don't upset the flowers.

Upset?

You know what I mean.

Disturb.

Flowers are growing and-

- Can't just stick them in the ground.

It's cold.

Mr. Cheeseman puts people
in coffins, like beds.

That's people.

Harold and Nelly were people too.

These do?

Want any help?

No, thank you.

I'd rather be alone
with them a little bit.

My peace I give unto you.

Brydie!

Don't you stay out late!

Loving husband.

Beloved wife.

God before.

Eternal rest.

Only child.

Hello, Dusty.

Aah.

What's a crowd of deaders.

All looking to the east,
from whence He shall come.

What you got there, Dusty?

Me mole.

He's a deader now.

O Mirif, a deader?

Not Mirif.

He had such a long lifelines.

I know.

He could have lived forever.

What happened then?

Did he die of his own accord?

His eyesight was poor.

All moles's is.

He was going down the
street to the post office,

and these blimming cows
of Dacres come along.

And one of the idiots stood on him.

Which idiot?

The one with the big tits.

Why was he going to the post office?

Don't know.

He just was.

Poor Mirif.

He was a close friend.

Remember him in the choir?

Aye.

He loved you, Mirif did.

Where you gonna put him?

Next me mum.

Think I could?

Why not?

I mean, this is where they all go.

Isn't it?

Next to your mum.

By the tree.

Loving friend.

Son of Edgar.

Right, bring your trowel.

Quite old, isn't she?

Never got to see her.

Where'd you get this hankie?

It's me sisters'.

Nice of her.

She don't know.

I made a cross for him.

Go on then.

Don't want to, so cold and lonely.

Oh, you can't tell me.

I just had the same trouble.

Harold and Nelly.

I'm a widow twice in one day.

You can't leave him in your
sister's hankie forever.

Won't be a second.

What's up? Don't go away.

I'll be back!

My peace I give unto you.

My peace I give unto you, Mirif.

Well what you up to?

Been burying people.

Who?

My two hamsters and Dusty Miller's mole.

They all right there?

Of course.

My mother's buried somewhere.

Here?

Did you know her?

My father is over there,
didn't know him either.

It's quiet.

Ain't it?

Where do you live?

In a waggon.

"Gyppo", like he said.

With your father?

Got no father.

Got a dog, have you?

How'd you, how'd you get that?

Don't know?

Wow!

Dunno.

Accident, my mum says.

Afternoon, Mr. Dacres.

Well don't you ever go home?

Mum don't mind. Mr. Cheeseman.

Who's this for then?

Mrs. Herm.

Don't mind me saying, Mr. Cheeseman,

I think she's too fat for it.

Not now she ain't.

Mr. Dacres' coffin still there?

Ah, it is.

Why does he want to see his
coffin before he gets into it?

Well, he couldn't
see it after, could he?

Lots of people do.

Chinese carry theirs around with them.

Why?

Ah, keeps them in mind of...

Keeps them in mind.

Mr. Dacres doesn't like me.

I say hello, and he walked by glaring.

Mum says she's drove to
drink going on about it.

About what?

Dunno. She never says.

Better go and have a cup
of tea then, run along home.

Or they're be wondering where you be.

If she's still vertical.

Well Brydie, come to tea, have ya?

Mr. Cheeseman said I had to.

Finished, have ya?

Dusty's mole's dead, Harry.

This was a pig once.

Poor ol' pig.

Saw pigs eating, Mr. Cheeseman.

That's why pigs are spoiled to be eaten.

Go on, get on with it.

Bread and jam, Brydie.

That's three people dead today.

Four, counting Mrs. Herm.

What?

Harold and Nelly. Mirif.

Who?

And Suzy's cat.

All animals.

The black one?

It got caught in the hay cutter.

It was horrible, Jakey said.

All squashed in red.

She had some kittens last
week, they're dying now.

Kathy.

Yes, mum?

Can't you kids talk of anything else?

I would've thought deaders

would interest you, Mr. Cheeseman.

Even though they're squashed.

Why aren't animals
buried in the churchyard?

It's consecrated ground,
and they haven't got souls.

Why not, dad?

If Suzy's cat had a soul,
would it be squashed too?

Mirif too, he was trotten on

by the cow with the big tits.

Not hungry, dear?

Why not, dad?

Why not bury animals in churchyards?

Be chaos, wouldn't it?

Herds of sheep and
cattle, and cats and dogs.

Moles?

Hamsters?

And Bind?

You see.

Brydie, run along now.

Could you make a coffin for Eflind, dad?

Edith.

Run along, Brydie.

How can you tell when
a worm's a deader, dad?

- What?
- A worm.

How can you tell when it's a deader?

Oh dear Lord.

God hears us all when we call to him.

His mercy extends to all of us.

In pain and in joy in all our...

Oh no, I've said it all
before, what minister hasn't?

Damn it.

Ow!

There, did you see her?

She's as mad as a hatter.

That was rather a good shot.

Couldn't exactly miss, dear.

Oh, I wish I could get my hands on her.

She's harmless.

Harmless?

She's shot at me.

You can be arrested for this and that.

Let me tell you, one of these days-

- That's what Edwin Dacres says, Dolly.

One of these, he says-

- He's got a bee in his bonnet.

A small wonder after
what he's been through.

Well sometimes when people
have a guilty conscience

they're inclined to shift
the blame to other shoulders.

Well, it wasn't his fault.

Well, no one knows the truth, do they?

And never will.

I think is what they
call an open and shut case.

Oh, poor Mr. Dacres.

Well what he says-

- "Ought to be under care and attention,"

that's what he says.

She as a mother.

And what a mother.

I don't want to be uncharitable,

but really, unmarried and,
well, constantly inebriated.

Oh, Brydie always
seems well fed and happy.

Oh, nonsense, Gertrude.

She's like a runaway pony,
completely out of control.

Well, good luck and Godspeed to her.

All right. All right.

But one of these days you're
going to eat those words.

I hope not.

Anyway, my dog liked her so much,

I had to give him to her.

Now, I always thought
animals were supposed to know.

They do.

Remember what Paul told the Corinthians,

as in Adam, all must die.

Even so, in Christ the
dead are made alive.

If you're not dead,
why aren't you moving?

Brydie!

Brydie White, what are you doing up there?

It's a bee.

Is it dead?

Yes, I think it is.

When's does it start going to heaven?

Gone already, I think.

It's still here in my hand.

Yes, but, um, not in soul.

Oh, they has them then?

There is some argument.

Shall I bury it?

Give it a flick of your
finger, how about that?

Go to God.

Can't do that with people, now can we?

Might save a lot of heartache.

And Mr. Slim a lotta work digging.

Brydie, you better hurry along home,

your mother would be worried.

Aye, if she's still vertical.

30 cent, pal. Two darks.

Two darks.

Got a mattress and an old iron bed

that you can collect the
next time you're around.

Tomorrow.

Anything else?

Just you leave me old
chickens alone, will you?

Don't need to steal
chickens, we got money enough.

And you rich, hey?

No rent, no taxes.

You are the lucky ones, you are.

We are.

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Cuckoo!

Hell of a noise for
her to makin", innit?

Cuckoo, Brydie White, cuckoo.

Ah, she's all sky west and crooked.

Eh, she's alright, boy.

Oh, she a bit simple, and
she's harmless enough.

My boy, Dusty, likes her.

Eh, harmless.

That's the point, isn't it?

I mean, one of these days,

some young tyke's gonna get hold of her

and do her a bit of no good.

Like, uh.

Get away.

Sleeping liars, the lot of them.

Happy, though. Dying race too.

Pity.

Eh, they won't die out.

Or their waggons.

They lasted 400 years.

That young 'un's got his
dirty eye on Brydie White.

Her mother ought to know.

Yeah, there's talk of
putting the kid away,

where she can do no harm.

Well that's damn stupid, isn't it?

What harm can kids do?

Another deader.

Hey?

Chalky told me. In the grass cutter.

I see it happen.

They were going to bury her.

I told them where we put Mirif.

And Harold and Nelly.

You going to bury my Mona there, Bryd?

Is Harold and Nelly
and Mirif's in heaven?

Right away, the vicar said.

My Mona's still here.

Hmm, that's just her old coat.

In old Dacres outhouse,

there's some pheasants
and a duck hanging up.

They ought to be buried, hey Bryd?

Chalky's gone to get 'em.

And pheasants and ducks are
for old Dacres Sunday dinner.

He won't half be angry.

What's happened to Mona,
if that's just old coat?

An angel took her up in his wings.

Angels do that.

Took my dad, mum says.

An ambulance took my dad
to a trip in Salisbury.

Brydie! Brydie!

Yes?

Anybody see Chalky?

There he is, all dead and nasty.

Course, that's why
going to have a funeral.

What's this then?

Dusty said bring anything we could find.

It's your Sunday dinner.

Take it back.

We want whole deaders, not bits.

When shall we do it?

Tonight.

We'll do it tonight, when it's dark.

Will they be looking
at us, all them deaders?

Will they?

Tell you something else.

When it's the end of the world,

God walks right in through
that churchyard gate

and lets them all out.

Cool, what a sight.

When, Bryd?

Anytime.

Could be tonight.

I'd like to see God.

I wouldn't.

There's gyppos
out at the dump again.

I seen one fishing, all in black.

I am afraid of gyppos.

You afraid of 'em Bryd?

No.

I talked to one.

Gipsies?

Thought I'd warn ya'.

That girl of yours being,
for one of a word...

Innocent.

Well, yes, if ya like.

Can I ask you in for
a cup of team, Mr. Slim?

There's one of them,
particular, got his eye on her.

What for?

We don't have to say, do we?

I just made the tea.

I mean, you don't want
another scandal, do you?

Or, gin and lime?

Just had a beer.

Oh.

So give her a straight talking to, hey?

Brydie? Oh, Brydie's a child.

You wouldn't think so, would you?

Just looking at her, I mean.

What you mean?

She's filling out a bit, isn't she?

I hadn't noticed.

Well, some is.

All right.

Brydie, where have you been?

What nonsense you been up to now?

Brydie!

Me and the boys worked all night.

What a cheek, might have called me.

What you get?

One of old Dacres hens.

One of his pigs too.

A pig!

Only a young 'un.

Got sat on by its mam.

Aah.

Struck a bit of hard
ground for it, though.

God, it were murder.

It's too much!

It's too much and too many!

Don't pace about, dear,
you'll upset your stomach.

My stomach's upset already.

What am I going to do?

We just have to think about it, quietly.

I mean, it isn't as if it's
a large churchyard, is it?

I mean there's ol' Mrs.
Herm the day after tomorrow,

and that was roughly her position.

It's the point of no return.

It's Sunday morning.

And the
congregation about to arrive.

All three of them.

Now, don't sit a on
that cold stone, dear.

Why not?

Anyone think I haven't
got any trousers on.

I suppose they'll have to be dug up.

Of course they will, but
if I'd only had all night.

But now, just before morning service.

Oh, who could have done it?

Children, dear. Children.

Well of course it's children,

but what's the right way to tackle it?

You'll just have to talk to them, dear.

Explain that they've got to put them

in a field or somewhere.

I'm so bad at talking to children.

They...

They stare me out.

Well stare back at them.

Oh my!

What is it?

The entire village is out there.

Well that's a nice change.

What am I going to say to them?

You'll say what has to
be said, and say it well.

It's Brydie. That's who it is.

It's Brydie White.

We, we will sing hymn Number 573.

♪ All things bright and beautiful ♪

♪ All creatures great and small ♪

♪ All things wise and wonderful ♪

♪ The Lord God that made them all ♪

♪ Each little flower that opens ♪

♪ Each little bird that sings ♪

♪ He made their glowing colours ♪

♪ He made their tiny wings ♪

♪ All things bright and beautiful ♪

♪ All creatures great and small ♪

♪ All things wise and wonderful ♪

♪ The Lord God made them all ♪

♪ Amen ♪

I was astonished.

I was astonished and somewhat horrified

by what met my eyes in the
churchyard this morning.

The wanton desecration of a place reserved

for the dead of our village.

These...

Little mounds are plainly the graves

of animals and birds that
some children have buried.

This is not an act of vandalism,
we must understand that.

In fact, I, I think I know
what was in their minds.

But, but no matter how
innocent this may be,

this kind of conduct cannot be permitted.

I want the children responsible to see me

after Sunday school this afternoon.

When I, I shall have to decide what action

may have to be taken.

One more thing.

As we have such a large
congregation this morning,

this is perhaps the moment
to say that, probably,

a wider responsibility for this

lies on the shoulders of the parents.

I should like to talk to them too.

♪ Where streams of living water flow ♪

♪ And where the verdant pastures grow ♪

♪ With food celestial feedeth ♪

♪ Perverse and foolish oft I strayed ♪

♪ But yet in love He sought me ♪

What did you get?

Nothing.

♪ And home rejoicing brought me ♪

♪ Amen ♪

Shocking and set sacrilegious.

I agree, Dolly. She
ought to be punished.

She ought to be shut away.

Who?

Well, the White girl, of course.

Yeah, she'll burn the church down next.

Cherry, Mr. Dacres?

What proof have you
that it is Brydie White?

Proof?

She's the ringleader.

She's the instigator of
everything those kids do.

Come, children always get
up to mischief on holiday,

I don't think we ought to take it-

- Aren't you supposed to teach them

how to behave in that school of yours?

Oh, come, Mr. Rigby,

it's hard enough trying to teach 'em

the three hours without having to-

- Aren't we all getting
rather carried away?

I mean, after all.

Clearly the contents of your larder

aren't lying deposited in
the churchyard, Phillip.

All the same, doctor, I
think there's sense of humour.

Sense of humour?

What's funny about having no Sunday lunch?

If you are ask me, you're
all talking outta ya' backside.

What a thing to say!

Shocking!

Sunday, too.

These unreligious kids.

Bloody fuss about now?

Well it ain't got me worried.

Why not, son?

Did the kids get you to
make the coffins for "em?

Now, you're a bit too close to eatin'

the chest yourself, Fred?

So watch it.

Scuse me.

Same again, Jul.

Now, I say it is our affair,

the parents, not them of the vicarage.

Well if that girl's not in
need of care and attention,

I'll eat my hat.

Then you won't undernourished, dear.

Gertrude, I
think you and Phillip

are taking this far to lightly.

The girl is becoming a danger.

Oh, Really?

Just because a group of kids.

Well, I'll, I'll speak to them,

tell them they'll have to bury
their animals somewhere else.

Well, if it gets away with this,

next thing, they'll be jamming
any old thing out there.

Dig 'em all up, Slim.

Throw 'em over the wall.

- Yes, sir.
- Now listen,

this is my parish, the
churchyard is my responsibility,

let me handle it my own way.

I've already told you, I
shall speak to the parents,

and I shall see the children

in Sunday school this afternoon.

Do we need him?

Or any of 'em?

- Whose kids are they?
- Not mine.

Yeah well, we all know
about you, you old ram.

Old Fred's got a point.

Sneeze your way outta that one, Fred.

Listen, I'll tell you what we do.

Good afternoon.

Afternoon, Fred.

Afternoon, vicar.

Oh, sir.

None of 'em turned up.

- What?
- Well, don't be worried,

vicar, they couldn't.

Couldn't?

Well, they were locked in, all of 'em.

- For punishment.
- Punishment?

Yeah, young Cheeseman's
idea at the Boy and Donkey.

"Lock the kids in." he says.

"Yes" says the others,
"like a lotta sheep."

All of the children?

Except her.

Brydie, I want to talk to you.

I've been round the village.

They're shut in their rooms,

making faces through the windows at me.

I want to talk to you.

Mind you, I told them not to
come to Sunday school anyway.

- You did?
- Mm.

So as I could talk to you on my own.

Brydie, about the, about your animals.

Friends.

Harold and Nelly and Mirif.

Taking things from people's larders,

it's no joke, Brydie!

It was meant to be no joke.

As we were burying two or three,

thought we might as well do the lot.

Well you got me into a lot of trouble.

You're going to punish me?

No.

Oh, Brydie, you worry me very much.

You know, many girls of your age

are married and have children.

Are you going to dig them up then?

Well they can't stay here.

This ground's concentrated,
you can't, can you?

Well, it's been done
before, during the war-

- You know what I think,

I think every deader ought to
have an animal for company.

You've got to understand-

- They have animals when they're alive,

why not when they're dead?

Now, listen.

I've had an idea.

If I let you have a cemetery in my garden,

will you promise not to bury

anything else in the churchyard?

Of course.

Then we can bury deaders anytime we like.

No, Brydie, no, it's a small garden.

No, you've got to ask me first.

All right then.

Good, well I'll tell your mother,

I'll tell all the parents,
they'll understand.

Parents do understand, Brydie.

I got to go now.

No doubt you have heard

of the business in the churchyard?

I heard about it? Very naughty of them.

And the church counsellor
very worried about Brydie.

They think she's the ringleader,

and one or two of them are
quite vindictive about it.

Brydie's all right.

Mischievous, that's all.

Perhaps if her home
life were a little more,

well, frankly, if you paid a
little more attention to her,

and a little to that.

I hardly touch it.

There are some very
narrow-minded people in this world.

Maybe that's why you don't
have a great number of friends?

I'm too busy for friends.

I see them when I want to.

Yes, I realise it's
been difficult for you.

Brydie's father dying.

And the accident.

We're all right.

Yes.

Well, you know you can always come

and have a little talk
with me if you want to.

Thank you, vicar.

Good night.

Who is it?

Good evening, Edwin.

What do you want?

I have an I idea I
want to discuss with you.

Oh?

Why?

Why don't you give
Brydie and the children

that bit of pasture beyond
the church for their animals?

I have no children.

And she's responsible.

It's not fair.

You know the truth, and
you should admit it.

If anyone's responsible, you are.

Edwin, let me help you.

Surely it's better to
talk things out instead

of locking them up and
letting them go sour inside.

You know, you'll only wreck
yourself going on like this,

you can't hurt her.

She's invulnerable.

Invulnerable?

I do don't wanna see her about the place,

she'll have to go somewhere.

Who are you to say
that, you're not a doctor?

You know, you could do
a lot for this village

instead of moaning about
what life has done to you.

What she has done to me.

And she's hardly suffered at all!

How can you say that?

You know as well as I do that she's,

she'd never be the same
as anyone of her own age.

But she's not unhappy.

Don't you understand that,
you damn fool of a person?

Why should she be unhappy?

She can't remember!

And thank God for it.

Yes.

Very thoughtful of you, Edwin.

I think I need it.

That bit beyond the wall would

be a perfect animals Valhalla.

What do you say?

It's a long time since
anybody's sat and drank by me.

Well then, about that land?

Invulnerable?

Think it over, Edwin.

I'll let myself out.

Good night.

Vulnerable.

Where have you been?

You hear me?

Where have you been?

Nowhere?

Vicar's been here about you.

You know that?

Yes, everybody's talking about you.

Your goings on.

Shaming me.

Stand still!

What's so funny about it?

Nothing.

You don't know how I've
suffered all these years.

Hints here, nudges there,

about you and Dacres' boy.

What?

And all this burying business.

Why do you do all these things to me?

Vicar said you'd understand.

Well I don't!

I thought you wouldn't if you was drunk.

I-.

I didn't mean it, Brydie.

Brydie!

You're safe in them graves, you are.

Nobody can hurt you now.

Never again.

I wouldn't mind being
dead, if it didn't hurt.

♪ Where streams of living water flow ♪

♪ My ransomed soul He leadeth ♪

♪ And ♪

Who's that?

We're gonna bury them in
through vicar's garden,

he said so.

Near the raspberries.

We didn't mean any harm.

It was Dusty's mole that started it,

and the I though of Harold and Nelly.

Remember this?

Do you?

It's a gun.

Yes, it's a gun.

And you know what happened with this gun?

Killed a boy, this gun did.

A long time ago.

Out there.

Oh, I didn't give it to him, he took it.

It were loaded and he didn't know.

He took it.

Oh, dangerous, that is.

He were playing with
this girl, in that field,

and it went off.

And he were killed.

Dead.

Not her, though.

She's invulnerable.

Know her, do you?

Who?

This girl! You!

- Me?
- You was the girl.

Only you wasn't killed.

You was only wounded.

There.

Me?

You killed my son.

I did?

I never.

How could I?

Took the gun away from him, didn't you?

I know you did.

You were struggling with
him likely, and it went off.

Don't know what you're saying!

I never handled your gun, never!

- Never!
- You killed him.

Seven years ago.

And I've waited all that time.

All that time with a big knot in me head.

He ain't got it no more.

But I can't remember.

I can't remember!

The gun?

The boy?

What boy?

You made it up.

You made it up to frighten me!

He lying under that tree.

Julian Dacres.

Only beloved son.

Julian?

No!

I never!

It was someone else!

It don't matter, it's all over now,

it don't matter no more.

Oh, tell me it was someone else!

It's right, it don't matter no more.

Ugh! Don't let it be me!

- Quiet!
- Don't let it be me!

Listen!

Don't let it be me!

You can have that bit of land!

- Ugh!
- Wait!

- Don't let it be me!
- Listen!

Don't let it be me!

Come back!

- You can have that land!
- No!

- Come here!
- No!

Who's there?

Where are you?

Where are you?

- Who was it?
- What happened?

- Who was that screaming?
- Was it Brydie White?

Let's go find her.

No! No!

Julian!

Julian, stop it!

Bang! Bang!

It's Brydie!

Yeah, well give us your jacket.

Quick!

Is she dead?

She's half drowned with
water and dying of the cold.

Did you fall in too?

Brydie! Brydie White!

Brydie!

What's happened?

Something to do with old Dacres.

He got hurt.

Well they after her?

Everybody, they all are.

Brydie White! Brydie!

Police too?

I seen one.

Well, don't tell no one you seen her.

And don't tell no one you seen me either.

- Why not?
- Brydie!

Well she's in trouble, isn't she?

Brydie White!

All right then.

Swear.

Cross my heart.

Where you going with her?

Where they won't find her.

Now you go on, put the jacket on her.

They steal chickens, those gyppos.

Reckon he's stolen Brydie too?

No, we let him take her, didn't we?

That's not stealing.

We let him take my jacket as well.

My dad gonna bash me.

Are we gonna keep it a secret then?

Got to, haven't we?

I crossed me heart.

And you know I did.

Good evening, we're looking
for a girl with fair hair,

she's run away frightened.

Have you seen her?

Have you seen her?

No, we haven't, sir.

Well if you do see her,

would you bring her back to the vicarage?

Tell her there's nothing to be afraid of.

Right.

Thank you.

You know where the vicarage is?

Beside the church.

Good night.

Found her in the river.

Drowning, she were.

Are you crazy?

What are you doing bringing her here?

They come here looking for her!

- Stop it!
- What you bring her

to the waggons for?

After that they passed,

and tell him he found her in the river.

- No!
- No!

Yes! We don't want
trouble, we get enough.

Look, you bloody fool,
what's the matter then?

Two boys said the law was after her.

Two boys, huh?

Did they see you with her then?

Look, you mumper, you.

You get us chucked off this dump,

the best dump we've seen in months.

Take her away, take her back.

- No!
- Well why not, pal?

Well she's in trouble.

Outta my way.

Trouble, is it?

And what about us?

Always his family brings us trouble.

Can't keep away from woman, can you?

This one's a Georgian, a English person.

What have you done to us?

Go on, get out.

Get some soup.

You should've taken her home.

Instead of bringing her
hear, to the waggons.

You've got no right!

Why should you care about her anyway?

Well, I do.

So now you know, don't you?

Troubles, nothing but
troubles these days.

There'll be none of us left soon.

City men will drive us out.

And the sparrows will
kill the red tanagers.

Oh, put a sock in it, Jabal Jones.

Drink, me deary.

It's cushy.

It's good.

Don't fear me, deary, you're safe with us.

Don't fear.

She's ill, boy, very ill.

That's cold of the water.

No, it's a fever of the brain.

Takes days and nights.

What is this girl, that you
bring her to the waggon?

I've been looking for her all my life.

And all the others, I was looking for her.

She ought to be with her own people.

No!

No, she's in trouble.

The law's here.

Hello, ma.

Any of you seen a stranger around here?

A girl? We're are looking for her.

no we haven't.

I understand one of your
boys was seen talking to her.

Oh?

Me?

Yeah, I talked to a
girl in the churchyard.

White hair?

That's the one.

What do you talk to her for?

Pretty girl.

When was this?

Week ago.

Have you seen her since?

Well, if you do see her
anywhere, bring her in, will you?

We won't book you.

Bastard!

Come on, let's pack it up!

Hit the road when the men get back!

Want the law to come after us, do you?

That's the best way, that is.

So she dies in there?

And what do we do?

Bury her in some dirty ditch?

You stupid cow!

Want clip over your ear, do ye?

Never see her again?

That's no way to talk.

Isn't that a way to talk?

If dog had been with her.

Poor old dog, where
does is he know then?

At the vicars'.

Got a good home there.

If her home life were a little...

If you paid more attention and less drank.

What's she talking about?

Oh, they're gonna get.

Always think it's nice,

when you're upset, to have people.

Harold and Nelly were people.

It's a shame.

Come on, won't have a little gin.

- No.
- Have another drop of gin.

Some of your gin then?

Get your pen filler.

Don't be daft.

It's a shame, really, it's a shame.

It's a shame.

Brydie!

Hey, remember me?

Remember Roibin?

Now don't be afeared.

They'll never get you as long as I'm here.

What is this place?

Grandma's waggon.

Have I been stolen then?

Only from the river.

I fished you out.

And kissed you back to life.

I brought you here for safety.

You've been ill.

Then it weren't a dream then.

Put me in this here?

My grandma.

Comes from Cardiff Hospital.

Fed you on your head too,

with solid herbs.

Put dock leaves on ya head for the fever.

Look, this is you then.

Did you see Mrs. White?

Yes.

How did she look?

Clean and comfortable.

I said something inane, like how are you?

She didn't open her
eyes, but I thought I saw

a glimmer of a smile, and then she said,

"I think I'm gone too."

What do matron say?

Usual.

If she has any relatives,
they better come at once.

Poor Mrs. White.

Poor Brydie.

Why couldn't any of them talk to me.

All the use they seem to have for me

is too see them decently
married or buried.

I still think she'll come back.

To what?

Dorothy, Dorothy, sitting up, is it?

Better?

Have some nice, hot soup.

Chicken!

Hedgehog.

Oh dear.

We'd like chicken, though.

Better.

Am I far from home?

No.

I'd like to go home now,
it's not too much trouble?

How long I been here?

30 days and nights.

Did no one come for me?

Mean to say my mum will be worried.

You'll be stronger soon.

And the boy, Roibin, he'll take you home.

I'm strong now, after this hedgehog.

The little lady is bothered for her mum.

I tell her you take her home, soon.

I'd like to go home.

What happened that night?

What night?

The night I fished you out the river?

Hey, you got a pain?

Me feet, you're sitting on them.

Fluttering hand, like a little bird.

Frightened, are you, you wanna go home?

Yes.

My mum, my dog-

- I don't want you to go home.

Got to, haven't I?

Followed you for days.

Can't stay here, can I mean to say.

Sitting besides you for days and nights.

Sometimes, your dreams, you cry out.

I put me arms around you
for the heart's comfort.

Then you sleep again.

The river brought you to me.

I brought you to the waggon.

You're safe, no one can hurt you.

Done nothing wrong.

I'm scared, that's all.

Can't hurt me for running.

Police came too.

Police?

Looking for you.

What happened?

Soon waggons will take to the road.

They'll go to the Welsh hills,
I'll not see you no more.

Yeah, come with us.

Police can't hurt me for running.

My mum will tell 'em.

Well will I go get your
dog for you then, hey?

For as much as it
have pleased, almighty God,

of his great mercy, to take unto himself

the soul of our dear sister here departed.

We therefore commit
her body to the ground.

Earth to earth, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust.

There's a lot about dust
in the Bible, ain't there?

What's it mean?

Nothing to do with me.

God's the dust man, he
throws dust in her eyes

and makes us go to sleep forever.

Mrs. White's gone for sleep
forever now, hasn't she?

Cool, what a pong.

Why didn't the vicar cry?

Mrs. Herbert did.

Ray Cheeselegs wouldn't
wonder, she's old.

You don't have to be old to be dead.

Brydie ain't old.

Brydie ain't dead.

Where's she, then?

Australia.

Maybe she's been stole by the gyppos.

Sometimes I sleeps here.

It so quiet before the birds wake.

No roof for me.

It's the trees.

The sky.

And me Dovel watching over me.

"Me Dovel?" Who's he then?

My god.

Oh.

Call on the police, then?

Bet you can't do that.

That's good, that is.

You got eyes like the river.

Muddy.

Cloudy.

White.

So's me name.

You remember, don't you?

You remember everything.

Your name, where you come from you.

What happened before
you went in the river?

I don't want to talk about it.

They're too big, aren't they?

Make my feet look funny, don't they?

My mom will laugh when
she sees me in this lot.

Will you be happy, back
there, in that village?

You keep asking.

What you dreaming then?

I'll never forget you.

No matter where I go, I'll
see you as you are now.

Daytime, dreams, sunset, moonlight.

Throughs woods in a cross field,

flattened before men in gypsy boots.

You're going away, then?

I have to.

They don't ever stay
long no place, anymore.

Would you be coming back?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Why'd I have to choose
you out of all the world?

When I was a little boy,
me mum cried all the time.

Why did she?

Hm?

Why?

She loved a Georgian.

You know, some people see someone,

and the says, "That's
the only one for me.”

And if they can't have 'em,
well, life small be, I reckon.

Maybe one day that can happen to you, eh?

I don't...

I wanna play with kids.

No one ever talked to me this way.

There's, there's only my mum,

and I don't ever tell her anything.

But I remember.

Well don't be frightened.

What do you remember?

A boy.

Hundreds of years ago.

Like a dream, really.

We used to play in these
fields, down by the river.

I try and try, but I
can't remember no more.

Maybe.

You put flowers on him.

I used to cry too, like your mum.

In my bed.

Nobody ever told me why he
never came to play anymore.

Never talked to him.

Just played where his old
coat lies in the graveyard.

And then that other night.

Well.

He told me I killed him with a gun.

Who told you?

Old Dacres, that's who.

Showed me the gun, run after me with it.

But I couldn't have hurt Julian.

Not him.

Not him.

Well don't cry then.

Now don't cry no more.

You said it now.

He can't hurt you no more.

Now you're going away too.

Would you stay alone in your life?

Wild winds, rains of winter,

scrap heaps, tent dwellings, could you?

Don't know?

Don't go away, not yet.

Well don't you go home, not yet.

I'll get used to it, won't I?

It's a hard life.

People, ever rattling
you to be on your way.

Georgians don't like us.

They never did.

Oh, we don't do 'em no harm.

A little bit of poaching.

If you wanted, I'd even
try to be a housedweller.

Just don't want you to
leave me, that's all I know.

There's a feeling in my
stomach that says that.

Tomorrow, I going to my mum.

Oh, and you won't come back,

and they sends packing, I know.

Will I find you, say if I don't?

No, you don't know.

That's Romani for you.

Means speaking sticks to tell the way.

Well show me. Show me!

Well look.

The white side points
away, it's called a patrin.

Sometimes two pieces of rag on
a bush means the same thing.

See, like stick lies straight that way,

means we gone with the waggon.

If it's bent, that way,

means we gone on the foot,

or sometimes we has to move sharp.

Or tufts of grass at cross roads.

Mounds of dried earth.

Now, the stick sometimes...

Got to have good eyes.

I got good eyes.

Big 'uns?

I love you.

I love you, I love you.

Didn't have long, did we?

I don't have to go.

They'll tell your mum.

Make as not sure send the police.

I'm not a kid, I'm 17.

Can't keep a secret, eh?

We never said nothing
to nobody, not a word.

Not a blooming word.

You ain't dead, then?

I could have been, but he
pulled me out of the river.

Coming home, hey, Bryd?

How's my mum?

All the animals are buried
in the vicar's garden now.

Good and close to them raspberries.

Smashing that is.

But how's my mum?

She's gone.

Gone?

Where's she gone then?

The dustman took her.

Dustman?

Who's he then?

Is God is the dustman.

God took her?

You mean she's...

Gone”?

Well she can't be.

Oh!

She's been with me all my life, has mum.

She couldn't have gone without my knowing.

She's gone, all right?

Went to the funeral.

Harold and Nelly and-

- Everyone.

It's everyone is getting dead.

Come on, Bryd. Come on home.

Home?

I haven't got a home.

Nowhere to go.

Nothing!

Nothing!

Nothing!

There's me.

You got me.

Nothing else don't matter.

Listen, listen.

There's people in this
world, we're the lost people.

Alone people.

I'm one, you're another.

Now I got you, you got me.

There ain't nothing to fear
so long as we're together.

What you wanna do?

Do?

Go back with them, or stay with me?

Oh, I'm frightened.

Don't be frightened.

You ain't done no wrong.

If you wanna go back, along with them.

I want to run away.

Don't run away, they chases runners.

Look.

Look!

There's gotta be two for happiness.

Birds, animals, people.

If they don't have anything,
they ain't not happy.

And you got me.

You got us.

Something for you.

What is it?

Hair.

Yours and mine.

Cut it when you was asleep.

It's good luck.

For when we ain't together.

What's that?

Marriage, kiss of the Romanis.

She's.

I'm going to my mum, my mum's grave,

and then I come back, straight.

They won't let you come back.

I said, they won't let you come back!

They will, they will, the
vicar will when I tell him.

Vicar's all right.

I'll wait.

I'll wait here.

Roibin.

Oh, what is it?

It's Brydie!

Children, quiet!

Quiet, all of you!

One at a time.

Now, Harry, what is it?

Brydie's back.

Where?

In the churchyard,
on her mum's grave.

- She crying.
- Oh no.

She's crying!

Brydie!

Come along, Brydie.

Come to me, Brydie.

It's all right, come along, come along.

That's it.

Did you find her here?

No.

We found her in the long meadow.

What was she doing there?

Getting married.

She's.

She's what?

To one of the gyppos.

What are you talking about.

Come, Brydie. Come home with me.

I'll take care of you.

That's it.

All right, children, you go along home.

I'll look after Brydie,
she's gonna be all right.

Quiet all right.

She's going to be all right.

Brydie, you must try and
pull yourself together.

I must go back, I must!

I said I would, he's waiting!

Who's waiting, Brydie? Who?

- Roibin!
- Roibin?

He's one of the gipsies, I think.

I promised him, I promised!

Now listen, Brydie, you're not well.

I don't care!

Brydie, stop crying!

Otherwise we can't help you.

Now.

I said I'll go back, see?

After all, I, I got no
mum and no home now.

And it was good to be with them gipsies.

And Roibin, he's waiting.

He said he'd wait. He's waiting.

All right, if you'll control yourself,

I'll tell you what I'm going to do.

I'm going to send a message to Roibin,

and tell him to come down
here tomorrow morning.

Now, what do you say to that?

Thank you, vicar.

Good.

Now, I'll get you a hot drink
and you go to sleep, hm?

He's all I got left, see, him and dog.

I'll send that message.

Slim, vicar wants a word with you.

Right.

Hello, sir?

Look, I want you to do something for me.

I want you to go to the
gypsy camp immediately.

Gypsy camp, sir?

Yes.

There's a young man there called Roibin.

Uh, who's that, sir?

Roibin.

Tell him that Brydie's at
the vicarage here with us.

- Brydie?
- Yeah, she's back.

Oh, she's back?

But tell him that she's not well,

and that we intend
keeping her here tonight.

Right, sir.

And tell him that I want to
see him here tomorrow morning.

Right, sir.

- She's asleep now.
- Ah, good.

Her boots are at attention,
at the foot of her bed.

Everything's under control,
I've called the doctor

and told the police that she's back.

They're both coming in the morning.

But she's all alone now, Phillip,

what'll happen to her?

I can see no alternative
now but at home.

The doctor will know the
best way of going about it,

we'll talk to him.

But if this boy, Roibin, comes?

Then I'll just have to explain to him.

I don't think he will come, do you?

I mean...

Gipsies.

Brydie!

Come on, let's go, we've
gotta get out of here.

- Why?
- They sent up a man.

Now you heard me, get outta here,

the lotta ya, before tomorrow.

What we've done, Georgian?

Kidnappin', that's what your done.

Lucky for you, the girl escape.

You be gone before mornin',

or the police will be up here after you.

What's happened then?

I've had about enough of you.

Put you inside for two pins.

What've I done then?

Kidnappin', that's what you've done.

Punishable, that is.

Bloody gyppos.

Ask her then!

If you're still here in the mornin'

you won't be able to ask nobody nothin'.

You'll end up in clink.

Right.

We'll get that git!

Look, you just shut your
trap and do like he says.

Now go and pack your gear,
"cause we are movin'.

I'm not going.

I said I'll wait, and wait I will.

- She won't come, boy!
- She will!

- Listen here, you!
- Let go of me!

Look, get over her.

Or we all wind up in the bloody stir.

Don't be difficult, boy,
you don't never work out!

Remember your mum!

I'll not go.

Shut your gab.

You cock sparra.

Thank you, Brydie.

That's all vicar, thank you.

Thank you.

Well then, good monrin', Mrs. Moss.

Look after yourself now, girl, eh?

That'll be all right, sir,

We've heard all the facts from Mr. Dacres,

he'd be glad to know she's back, sir.

Reckon we all are.

Yes indeed.

Thank you, Evans.

Good day, vicar.

Well, that wasn't too difficult, was it?

Vicar, will you marry Roibin and me?

Eat up your breakfast, Brydie.

Will you?

Brydie, he hasn't turned up, has he?

But he said he'd wait.

He gave me this, see?

It's the , see?

He gave it me for when we're not together.

The Lord watch between me and thee,

when we are absent one from another.

And treat me not to leave thee,

or to return from following after thee.

Whither thou goest, I will go.

Where thou lodgest, I will lodge.

Thy people shall be my people.

Thy God my God.

Yes! That's it!

- Brydie.
- Yes?

In the hall, the coatrack,

get yourself a cape, a coat or something.

Hurry up!

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

I really don't know.

The doctor's coming.

Come on, this way.

Come on, dog.

Phillip!

Hello, doctor.

- Morning, Mrs. Moss.
- Lovely day, isn't it?

Like a dream.

Like. Like they was never here.

But they were.

Perhaps we should go back.

I'm never going back.

Now Brydie, and-

- What have I got to go back for?

You tell me that!

The white side points the way.

What is it?

The what?

You can go home now, vicar.

Thank you very much for coming.

Goodbye.

Brydie, come back!

Brydie!

Damn it! Blast!

Oh!

Are you all right?

Yes, it' nothing, it's
just my silly old back.

I found another, look!

It points to the road,
they gone on the road.

He wants me to follow.

Brydie, you can't go,
not now, they'll be miles.

I got to, haven't I?

He's left the sticks.

Yes, but I can't keep up with you.

Well you go home then, vicar.

I'll be all right.

Yes, I'll, I'll go and
get my bike and follow

in case you get into trouble.

All right, all right, you follow then.

I'm mad.

I'm absolutely mad.

- Vicar!
- Oh! Hello!

I won't be long, I'm bringing her back!

Hey, just a minute!

Roibin.

Roibin!

Brydie!

Roibin!

Brydie!

Brydie!

Yes.

That's it.