Decline and Fall (2017): Season 1, Episode 2 - Episode #1.2 - full transcript

I've been in the scholastic
profession long enough to know

that nobody enters it

unless he has some very good
reasons he is anxious to conceal.

I'm keen to find something
that I can stick at.

I hope that being a
schoolmaster may be it.

What have you heard about
The League of Nations?

I fear I'm in the soup again.

I've told Flossie I'm going
to announce our engagement.

I hope Mama falls in love again.

She's still so young and beautiful.

Would you be interested in
spending the summer with us?



That was a good binge.

That was one of the most
memorable evenings of my life.

Marriage is a grim institution!

You didn't enjoy your first one?

It was in Ireland. I
was as tight as a lord.

So was the priest.

God knows what became of Mrs Grimes.

None of this is what I would
have chosen for myself,

not by a long chalk.

- Cheer up, Grimesie.
- No! No! Get off me!

Why did no-one warn me?

- Why did no-one warn me?!
- Ssh-ssh-ssh-ssh-ssh!

They warned me about the fires of hell,

- no-one warned me
about marriage! - Ssh!



No-one said that, at the end
of the flower-strewn lane,

there were the hideous lights of home,

the terrible voices of children!

Argh! Ah! Ah! Ah!

- Try not to wake the boys.
- Or Dr Fagan!

- Ssh!
- Ssh!

(Inside voices.)

I gather you're excellent at the organ.

Will you play at my wedding?

I can't, I've injured my hand.

Oh, no! How did you do that?

Playing games.

To be honest, I can't
play the organ, Grimes.

You just teach it?

Will you... will you be best man, then?

Yes. I'd be honoured.

Sorry, Prendy!

Ssssh!

- What is this.. - (Go and check the
door.) - .. terrible impulse to build homes?

Flossie has the itch, all right.

She's already told me she wants children.

Ah! I fear I'm a blind alley off
the main road of procreation.

I don't think people would
ever fall in love if they

hadn't been told about it. It's
like going abroad, you know,

you'd never think of doing it unless
someone had told you it existed.

I don't know if that's true.

I can vouch for the exciting
tingle of unexpected emotions

one can feel when you
encounter someone special.

Like a sort of unstoppable
primal... flushing.

- Oh! (Grimes!)
- Ooo!

Mm!

Ah!

Good evening.

Mr Pennyfeather?

I'm afraid to admit that Captain Grimes

is not the son-in-law I
would readily have chosen.

He can usually handle his drink, sir.

Well, I could forgive him his wooden leg,

his abominable features
and his moral turpitude,

if only he were a gentleman.

I dare say you've discerned
his worst weakness.

I need not particularise.

One comes across it with regularity
in the teaching profession.

But I do wish a man with such instincts

was not marrying my daughter.

Would you marry her?

Well, she's a lovely woman.

I don't mean in theory!

I'm asking you to help me, Paul.

I've come to trust and
respect you and I'm asking you

if you would like to marry
my daughter, Florence.

But she's engaged to Captain
Grimes at the moment, sir.

I've spoken to her and I've discovered

that she has no strong inclination
towards Grimes in particular,

but she's very keen --
desperate, in fact --

to be married before her 30th birthday.

- I see.
- Look...

.. I'll offer you a partnership
in this school, too.

And that's worth about £1,000 a year.

- Well, it's a very
generous offer, sir. - Mm.

And she's a handsome...

.. very handsome woman.

But I can't.

All right. Of course.

I quite understand.

It's just this Saturday's wedding

is a humiliation I would
like to have avoided.

And Tangent's going to have his
foot amputated on Saturday, too.

Perhaps that is the event you
should attend, as headmaster.

Ah!

Philbrick's an inscrutable soul, isn't he?

I don't know what he's doing
here. He wasn't invited.

You know he's not really a
butler? He's a retired thief.

Is he? I know he's a successful novelist.

Philbrick?

He's a millionaire ship-owner.

Son of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Yeah. He told me all about it.

He told me he was a bank robber.

I wonder which of his stories are true?

None of them, I suppose.

Everything all right, gentlemen?

We know your game, Philbrick.

We've being comparing stories.

One day, I'll tell you the truth
and you won't believe that, either.

Because it's more extraordinary
than any of your tiny little minds

could ever comprehend.

As you were.

Oh, God!

Here comes the bride.

Is it too late to run?

Yes.

Let's start by singing
Land of Hope and Glory.

♪ Land of...

♪ Land of hope and glory... ♪

Why is Dingy giving her away?

Where's Dr Fagan?

Into this holy union,
Captain Colin Alexander

Frederick George Arthur Grimes

and Florence Fagan will be joined.

Therefore, if any man or
woman can show any just cause

why they may not lawfully
be joined together,

let him now speak, or else
forever hold his peace.

Stop him!

- Get him!
- That way!

Back!

Oh!

Colin Alexander

Frederick George Arthur Grimes,

do you take this woman
to be your wedded wife?

I... W-W... Er... Ah...

Do you know Philbrick well?

No.

He's wanted for false
pretences and impersonation.

There's 15 charges against
him from across the country.

In March, he pretended he
was the Bishop of Burford.

He confirmed 70 kids.

Did it very well, apparently.

He told me he was a bank robber.

He is also a bank robber.

Ah.

You're going to Margot
Beste-Chetwynde's place for summer?

Yes. I'm looking forward to it.

I-I find there's something rather
thrilling about Margot's company.

Do you?

Shall we have a couple more?

You don't think you ought to get back?

I suppose you're right.

The first days are difficult... they say.

Even in the most romantic marriages.

But since it's your first
night together as a couple...

Well, so long, old boy.

This is the way I go now.

I must say, I'm a little
worried about Grimes.

I think the head man is
giving him a hard time.

And I'm not sure everything...
above stairs suits him.

Sir? Have you seen Captain Grimes?

No, not since yesterday.

Neither has Mrs Grimes.

Apparently, he didn't
come home last night.

I'm sure he's probably just
passed out in a ditch somewhere.

It's this way.

Oh, Grimes!

Come along, girls! Margate, here we come!

Come on, in you get!

There we go.

Have a good holiday, Prendy.

Thank you. And you.

Though I'm not sure I can face
returning for another term.

I'm sure you say that at
the end of every term.

I do.

And at the beginning of every term.

I was reading yesterday about what
the Bishop of Winchester is calling

the modern churchman.

Apparently, these priests
draw a full church salary,

but don't commit to any
particular religious belief.

I think the bishop meant it critically,

but I thought it sounded rather wonderful.

Well, I hope you do come back.

I'm sure I will.

Oh! Mummy sent the big car.

Well, this is me.

Mother's been asking me to
practise my vodka cocktails.

Are you good at making cocktails, sir?

I'm not even good at drinking them.

Oh, my word!

Mother has surpassed herself.

My dears! You've made it.

Oh! You're finally here! I've
been so bored without you.

Oh, my darling boy, how are you?

You seem to be getting rather
handsome, in a coltish sort of way.

Wouldn't you agree, Mr Pennyfeather?

Yes.

Oh, it's wonderful to have you here, too.

And for the whole holidays,
Professor. Lucky us.

I'm not actually a professor.

Shush, Professor. What do you think?

It's an amazing house,
Mrs Beste-Chetwynde.

Come and meet the architect.

I find the vulcanite
chairs make my bottom chafe,

but Otto insists on them.

- Otto? - Ah? - Honey, Peter's
here with Mr Pennyfeather.

Guten abend, meine herren.

Darling, isn't Peter
getting rather handsome?

Lass uns mal schauen.

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.]

His head is too big for his frame
and his hands are too small.

I love what you've done
with the place, Otto.

It's an amazing house, I was just saying.

You like it?

Very much.

I hate and detest every bit of it.

No, my, shooks, you
mustn't be so tiresome.

It's better than what was here before.

I've done what I can, but it is
impossible for domestic architecture

to ever be truly beautiful.

Why's that?

Hm.

The challenge for architecture is
the same challenge for all art --

the removal of the human element
in the consideration of form.

So the only truly beautiful
building is the factory.

Yes, darling, you've built
beautiful factories.

Now, I'm going to get changed.

Peter, why don't you make us some drinks?

Yes, of course.

Margot is impossible to work for.

For instance, she's insisting
that I put in the staircase.

There isn't one at the moment?

The tragedy for architects is
that they have to have clients.

How do you get upstairs?

Why do you want to go upstairs?

You see, Paul, this is my point.

Stairs are ugly, but humans demand them.

Why can't you just stay in one place?

Why must you go upstairs, downstairs,

in and out, up and round, huh?

Do machines require a staircase?

No!

What an immature,
self-destructive being is a man.

Yes.

But what if you want to go to sleep?

Argh!

If you must go upstairs,

install an elevator on the
exterior of the building.

That's a good solution.

Here we are.

Oh!

Drinks. I call it The Panty Dropper.

It's er, it's vodka, rum, whisky.
I serve it slightly warmed.

Aren't you clever, darling?
Can I credit you for this?

- No. - A teacher called Captain Grimes

actually taught us all how to make these.

I love teachers like that.

Yes. Sadly, he... he
committed suicide last week.

Oh, no, that's horrible.

Scheisse.

Well, let's toast to poor Captain Grimes.

- Poor Captain Grimes.
- Prost.

Perhaps I could, er, get a
glass of water, as well?

Oh, water's for washing.

So, who wants to see my
drawings of French prostitutes?

I'd love to.

Paul, setz dich, ja?

Do you visit prostitutes much, Paul?

Um... not so much.

I draw everything.

Here are my prostitutes.

Ooh!

That's a nice one.

Her raised buttocks, and
head thrown back in ecstasy.

Yes.

Paul.

I'd like to give you this one as a gift.

- Oh, thank you.
- Yeah.

Is there perhaps one without you in it?

Of course. Choose which one you like.

The woman pleasuring herself?

That one's lovely. Thank you.

Oh, Paul, I love to draw.

I can see.

Yeah. Let's draw now. You and me, Paul.

Let's draw Margot.

Oh, no, not again, darling.

Peter, bitte? Fur dich.
Hold, please, thank you.

I could draw you 500 times daily.

You are such a wonderful, firm
assembly of rectilinear planes.

Well, I'd like to keep
my clothes on, thank you.

Me, too.

Paul, would you say you are a
static person or a dynamic one?

Hm?

I believe all people should be
divided into those two types.

Static... or dynamic.

That makes much more sense than
dividing them into male or female.

So, which type are you, Paul?

Dynamic.

I'm definitely a dynamic person.

Yeah.

My father.

Oh, Peter, darling, did
I tell you I was having

a weekend party here at
the house to show it off?

Margot, I've asked you not to do this.

Oh, shush. Be quiet. It's
my house. I paid for it.

Now, could you face organising
it all? You know what I'm like.

Of course, Mama. How many
people will be coming?

Oh, I don't know. I gave up
inviting people weeks ago.

Maybe a couple of hundred.

Oh, but don't worry, most of them
are hopeless at leaving London.

Will it be a fancy dress party?

Hm, God, no. Had enough of those.

Just this year I've been to
a circus one, a Hawaiian one,

a Victorian one, a Russian one,

a Wild West one, one where you
had to be dressed as a windmill...

It's so boring.

And when did parties move from
being an expression of hospitality

to a competitive form of public spectacle?

You did say that you enjoyed the

"What were you wearing when
the Titanic sank?" party.

Hm. Oh, yes. That suited
my mood perfectly.

Oh! Dinner is served. Now, stop drawing.

Let me see what you've done.

Oh, Otto, I wish you wouldn't
do that! It's so boring.

You've drawn me completely naked,
when I clearly have my clothes on.

Now, let's see what you've done.

Hm.

Those are your eyes.

Hm.

Dinner is served.

Paul... are you awake?

Oh, well, I... I wasn't.

I just wanted to apologies
for Otto's manner.

He's German and an architect,

and that can be an
unfortunate combination.

But he is a genius.

I'm sorry about my drawing.
It's never been my...

Oh. Please. I didn't invite
you here to draw, did I?

I... obviously do find you very beautiful.

It's just that I wasn't able
to express it with a pencil.

It was frustrating.

Do you? Find me beautiful?

Yes.

Hm. I don't like my mouth.

It's a beautiful mouth.

All of you is beautiful.

Like a rainbow.

Like a lily flower

that's opened for the first
full fat drops of spring rain.

If a million painters painted for
40 hours, they'd never be able to...

Shush! You don't have to talk,
you handsome, drunk man.

Jenny?

Where are you? Jenny?

Guten morgen, Paul.

Don't you think she's the most
wonderful woman in the world?

In what way?

Beautiful and free. It's almost
like she's a different species.

Do you know what I mean?

Margot's variations are seductive.

They certainly are.

Yeah.

Especially the way her left breast

is slightly more raised
than her right. It's ghastly!

I do enjoy sleeping with her.

Yeah, part of me thinks I
should propose to her again.

Sorry?

I love her body...

.. as much as I love concrete.

- Hello, I'm Tom.
- Paul.

What's brought you to
this part of the world?

Trying to get away from an
architect. I'm a teacher.

I tutor a boy who lives
locally in a big house.

At King's Thursday?

Yes.

Are you going to the party this afternoon?

Yes. Are you?

Yes and no. Ah, I'd like
to. I know Margot a bit.

- Do you? - Yeah. She often
has me at her parties.

And then I write about them
the next day. For The Daily.

You're a journalist?

I have a society column.

Golly. Is that a good career?

So long as you can get
into the parties, it is.

I don't know why but, um, Margot
hasn't invited me this time.

Perhaps she forgot?

She told me she hadn't invited
everyone that she wanted to.

Why, that must be it.

See the thing is, I have a friend --

a rival, really -- he
writes for The Weekend.

He's an unscrupulous little turd.

I say "friend."

Actually, I hate the man, but
he's going to be at the party.

It would look pretty bad
for me if he did a piece

about the party and I didn't.

I see.

So, I was wondering if
you could get me in?

Right...

It's just, my career,
sort of, depends on it.

- Um... - And as you say, she
probably just forgot to invite me.

- Er...
- To be honest with you,

if I don't pull this off I may
as well stick my head in the oven.

Oh, don't do that. Um...

Well, if you say

she normally invites you,

I'm certain she wouldn't
mind you being there.

Wonderful! Thank you!

Let me get you another drink.
It was The Owls, wasn't it?

- Thank you. - So, if you leave the
back gate open at 3.30pm, please?

And don't be alarmed -- I
may be dressed as an Arab.

I can't face it. I don't want
to talk to any of these people.

I don't feel well. I'm going to bed.

Darling, will you make sure
everybody has a good time?

And you, too, Paul.

But... I'm not sure I know
how your mind works, Margot.

I'm sure you do.

And I'm sure you know how to
make a party swing delightfully.

Make it a huge success.
I'm counting on you.

I sure I'll feel better
once they've all gone.

Champagne, sir?

Oh, my word! Peter!

Mrs Popham. So lovely to see you.

I can't wait to see this house.

Has Otto done marvels?

Please have a glass of Champagne
or try one of my absinth frappes.

Hm! How do you two know each other?

Oh, Mr Pennyfeather is
a master at my school.

He's excellent at
theology, German and music.

Oh, well done. Which
instruments do you play?

He's superb at the piano.

Otto, you're here!

Look at what you've done to this place!

It's amazing.

I hate and detest every bit of it.

Well, I love it.

Then, you have nothing but my pity.

Just walk around and talk to people.

How do you do.

This is what the house used to
look like before I knocked it down.

As you can see -- unfit for
habitation. It was appalling.

Here, however, this is
the dining room space.

You see, I designed the
house for human flow

and increased functionality.

Your eye then travels across
the marble floor to the windows.

And from here, you have an
amazing view of the woods. Ja.

I was required by my client
to make this room fun, ja?

- So I added a kaleidoscope
lighting. - Wow!

Hm. We could do with a room
like this in The Commons.

So now, who would like to see
the drawings of my French women?

Or, we could have some food?

I've never seen such a spread.

Paul?

Just a minute.

Hello.

Hello.

So... you're a politician?

Minister for Transport. You
keen on politics, at all?

Hardly at all.

Ah, sensible fellow. It's all
just one disaster after another.

Endless backstabbing and plots.
And the public are idiots.

I'd make much more money if I
concentrated on my biographies.

This is an extraordinary house, isn't it?

Yes.

It's missing nothing except the
hostess herself. You known her long?

Margot? Only a few weeks.

Ah. There's no-one like her.

I wish she rode a bicycle and voted
Tory, but she's good news otherwise.

You been to her place in Corfu?
It's fabulous. Wonderful chefs.

I don't know what she's
built this place for.

She's getting in with the wrong set.

A rich woman without a husband
is bound to be talked about.

What she ought to be
doing is getting married.

Settling down with someone with a
respected position in public life.

Someone like you?

Yeah, that's right.

Do you know what that is?

No.

What line are you in?

I'm a teacher.

Never mind. You're young.
There's still time to change.

Although I must say, I don't
understand your generation.

You had a great opportunity after the war.

There was a whole
civilisation to be remade.

I'm just trying to find
something I can stick at.

What's your father want you to do?

I don't know. He died when I was younger.

Sorry to hear that.

What I will say to you is this --

whatever you do intend to
do with your life, aim high.

That's what I do.

Like when you're throwing
a stone at a cat.

If you aim higher, you're
more likely to hit something.

Aim high.

Right, I'm off back to London soon.

It's annoying Margot
isn't at her own party.

I only came to seduce her.

It's a shame she's missed that.

Hm! Nice to meet you.

Are you going to eat that?

I think, to see clearly in
this world, one must be a poet,

a priest and a prophet -- all at once.

You are so right.

Yeah.

When are you going to
come and do my house, Otto?

I keep asking.

No more houses. I detest them.

Ja, I want to build a town instead.

You promised.

Pamela. Bitte, ja?

Well, I'd give you free rein.
You can do what you like.

Come and discuss it
with me on Friday night.

My husband's in Abyssinia again.

Oh! Paul.

This is fun.

Do you know Pamela Popham?

We met briefly.

Oh, we were just discussing architecture.

Sir, can I have a word?

Yes.

What is HE doing here?

What's wrong with him?

He's a journalist.

Yes, he writes a column, doesn't he?

He's the most despised
man in the newspapers.

My mother threw him out of her last party.

And there he is, talking to the
most indiscreet man in politics.

He always wears an Arab disguise,

every time, and he writes
the most appalling things.

When my mother finds who let him
in here, she will crucify them.

Well, let's not upset her by telling her.

How did he get in here?

I'm going to go and ask him.

No. Let me. You stay here.

I'll go and give him... a
bloody good piece of my mind.

It's well known in the House

that the Home Secretary and Mr Chundra Roy

have long been enjoying, what
they call on the subcontinent,

"a tender embrace without trousers."

Hello, Tom.

I thought we agreed that
you wouldn't take notes.

- No, we didn't. - I think we did,
so if you'd just give me that...

No!

- Yes.
- No...

What's the matter?

This man is a journalist. Tom Somebody.

Not Tom Braeburn?

No!

You're the bloody turd pipe who
suggested my parentage was of doubt.

Oh! Look!

Get out of here or I'll
set my dogs on you!

I'm going to make sure your
mother has a tax inspection!

How the hell did he get in here?

It's beyond belief.

Bloody man gets everywhere.

Found you.

We're so bored. I want you to play
something for us, on the piano.

No.

Yes. I insist. Come on.

No, no. I really can't.
I've had too much to drink.

Oh! We don't mind if
it isn't perfect. Move.

No, I can't. I've injured my hand.

- Lady Popham, he really can't...
- We don't mind! Sit down!

Everybody! This man here
is Peter's music teacher.

Shall we get him to play
us something on the piano?

Yes, yes. Play us something.

No. No. No. I can't...

Sit down!

I can't!

Everybody, shush!

He's going to play something for us.

I really can't.

Oh, for God's sake!
Don't make such a scene.

Um...

This is a modern piece.

What is it called?

It's called...

The... Fat Lady...

Of... Stuttgart.

Ja.

Did you have a terrible
time at the party last night

with all those awful people?

More and more I find the
need for a new husband,

so I can stop throwing all these parties.

But Peter's horribly fastidious.
He turns down all the candidates.

Did he turn down Otto?

I can't remember what he said about Otto.

And Humphrey Maltravers seems keen on you.

Oh! Yes, he is. But I
can't be Margot Maltravers.

That's not an acceptable name.

Oh, darling, I've loved
having you around the house.

I can't bear the thought of you

having to go back to that Welsh school.

Do write to Dr Fagan and tell
him you won't be going back?

What else could I do? Journalism?

Oh, no, no, no. We'll
find you a proper job.

Maybe you can come and work for me?

What is your business, Margot?

Well, I run my father's business.

It's called The Latin
American Entertainment Company.

It's mostly in South America.

We provide girls for
places of entertainment

like cabarets and hotels and
theatres, that sort of thing.

I'm sure I can find you
a job helping in that.

Oh, Margot, you are wonderful.

Oh, Carlo, thank you
for another lovely meal.

Please give my regards to the chef.

Sorry.

Arthur!

Pottsie. It's me, Paul.

Pennyfeather! Dear chap. How are you?

How lovely to see you. This is my...

friend, Margot Beste-Chetwynde.

What brings you here?

Bit of lunch. I work near here.

Darling, why don't you talk to your
friend? I'll wait for you outside.

What line of work are you in?

I work for the League of Nations.

Gosh. Good for you, Pottsie.

Always knew you'd end up
doing something impressive.

Are you going to save
us all from another war?

Actually, I work in a department
that's an offshoot, of, er...

an extension of the main unit.

Golly.

What are you up to?

I always thought the manner of
your expulsion from university

was a great injustice, Paul.

- Thank you, Portsie.
- I'll tell you, I gave Digby-Vaine-Trumpington

a piece of my mind on the matter.

- Did you?
- Hm.

I told him you'd had your
whole future shattered.

Do you know how he replied?

He said he'd send you £20.

Well, I never got it.

I told him not to send it.

Thank you(!)

Probably for the best, in the end.

I'd heard you'd had to become a teacher.

Yes. But I'm giving that up,
now that I've met Margot.

Good to see you.

Now, I don't want you talking to the girls

who are auditioning for the show.

I don't want them feeling too judged.

No, of course not. Thank you
so much for this, Margot.

I see you've got a new necklace.

Yes, Otto gave it to me.

Oh.

They're ball bearings
from an anti-aircraft gun.

Shall we get started?

Ladies!

Hello, darling. Name?

Pompilia de la Conradine.

Ah. Real name?

Betsy Brown.

Age?

22.

Real age?

22.

Experience?

I was at Mrs Rosenbaum's in St
James' for two years, ma'am.

I'll see. Well, I will try
and find something for you.

But tell me, why did you
leave Mrs Rosenbaum's?

She said the gentlemen like a change.

Hm.

Mrs Rosenbaum's, please.

Oh, yes, hello. This is the Latin
American Entertainment Company.

I have a Betsy Brown here. Can you
tell me a little bit about her?

I see. Well, I thought that
was the case. Thank you.

Well, I'm sorry, darling,

I'm not going to be able to use
you until you're better again.

Thank you.

What was wrong with her?
She seemed fit to me.

- Sadly not.
- You didn't ask her to sing or dance?

Well, one learns to judge
those things by sight.

Next!

Hello, darling. Name?

Renee von Banky.

Real name?

Jane Jenkins.

Great. Jane, give us a turn.

Very nice. How did you hear about us?

My father in Cardiff told me about you.

Ah, yes, often the way. So
you're new to this business?

Yes, ma'am.

Excellent. When could you sail?

When do you want me?

Well, we have a few vacancies in Rio.

Four or five of the girls
are going to travel there

from Marseilles next month.

Would you be able to join them?

Yes, ma'am. I'd be very
pleased to, I'm sure.

Thank you.

Next!

Well, that's the last of them.
Were you terribly bored, my angel?

No, Margot, you were
wonderful. Like an empress.

Now, pop outside and
wait for me in the car.

I have a few phone calls to make.

All right, ladies, how did that go?

Good? Everyone happy? Good.

I'm sure you'll all be off to Rio
before you can say "dengue fever".

OK, come on, then. Hurry up.

Grimes?

Pennyfeather!

My dear chap, I thought
I'd encounter you again.

How are you?

You're not dead?!

No, no, no. Fighting fit.

Forgive the vegetation.

A changed face is necessary at the moment.

Are you in the soup again?

No, not this time. But, er, my
suicide didn't go down well.

No body at the funeral and then, I
gather, my first wife turned up,

which went down badly with
Flossie and the police and...

- They're all after me.
- What on Earth are you doing here?

Working. Landed on my feet again.

- Foot!
- Shush, Renee.

No, I was hiding out in a pub in Soho,

when I heard that this syndicate
were looking for a chap to travel

to Rio with a group of ladies, to
run a place of entertainment there.

They were hoping to have someone
who could control themselves

when it came to the ladies.

So, I said, "Where do I sign?"

So, we're both working
for Mrs Beste-Chetwynde?

Yes, indeed. The team reunited.

Only goes to show how small the world is.

Well, it's wonderful to see
you back at full force.

Oh, yes.

We must have a drink before you sail.

We must. Now... you can reach me here.

Jolly good.

Chop-chop, ladies.

And it's for these reasons
that Rome fell to the Goths.

I see.

Let's pause on history for a
moment and consider some maths.

I need to do quadratic
equations, apparently.

Peter, is something bothering you?

I don't want Mother to marry Otto Silenus.

Oh, I'm sure she won't.
She turned him down.

He proposed to her again
yesterday on a boat.

He made a speech about beauty

and he gave her a necklace
made out of ball bearings.

But Otto's going out with Pamela
Popham, who was at the party.

- Lady Popham?
- Yes.

Oh, I don't think so. She's
married to Lord Popham.

That would be scandalous.

I'd much rather Mother married you.

I'm sure she's only marrying Otto

to get all the other annoying
suitors off her back.

You'd rather she married me?

She clearly cares about you a
great deal, Mr Pennyfeather,

as do I. But... it's too late.

She's engaged to the "genius".

He's a famous architect,

engaged to be married to
Margot Beste-Chetwynde,

but I know that he's having an
affair with Lady Pamela Popham.

He's going round to visit her house
on Friday night, Audley Street.

If you could get a photo
and piece in The Daily, Tom,

I'd be incredibly grateful.

This is good stuff.

Sordid affair.

And he's German, as well, isn't he?

The bastard!

Oh, thank you, James. I've
forgotten my gloves inside.

- Can you run and get them?
- Yes, my lady.

Oh, thank you for waiting.

Shall we go to Claridge's
and have some pastis?

That sounds lovely.

Oh, Otto, you stupid man!

What's happened?

But he's been seen coming out
of Pamela's house at midnight!

She's married to Lord Popham.

Oh, I can't be seen marrying Otto now.

They'll mark me down as
a cuckolded harlot. Oh!

Margot, please don't marry
Otto. He doesn't love you.

He only loves himself.

But I love you. Deeply. Sincerely.

More than I know how to express.

Shush, don't make a scene.

There's only you and me here.

Well, go on.

Margot, will you make me the
happiest man in the world

by marrying me?

I adore you. And Peter says
he'd like you to marry me.

Oh, very well, Mr Pennyfeather.

I do find you to be a delightful,
foolish, handsome creature.

Let's do it.

Will you be able to cope
with being very rich?

Yes.

The money can be tiresome.

If I'm with you, I'll be happy.

Then, I say yes to you.

Did you see our announcement in the paper?

It's good, isn't it?

Oh, my!

Oh, let's see. Hm.

They're from a man named
Alistair Digby-Vaine-Trumpington.

Ah. He attacked me at college.
Took all my clothes off me.

Oh, he sounds fun!

And he seems to have sent us
half the Amazon rain forest.

Shall we have him at the wedding?
He clearly wants to come.

- Why not? - I didn't realise
you had so many old friends.

Neither did I.

Have you chosen one of them
to be your best man yet?

I don't know why, but I haven't
heard back from Pottsie.

Oh darling, you only have four
days left to choose a best man.

Why don't you ask this Digby fella?

Let me try and find Prendy first.

Very well. Now, I'm having some
dresses brought to the house,

so I don't want you hanging around.

Why don't you go out and buy
some ties or some towels?

Oh!

Also, I was thinking we should have
our honeymoon in my home in Corfu.

Would you like that?

Sounds lovely, darling.

It used to belong to a little Frenchman.

Napoleon.

Paul! Something rather
tiresome's happened.

You know the girls who
were sent down to Rio?

With my friend Grimes?

Yes, well, several of them
have got stuck in Marseille.

Something about their passports.

It's such a bore that
this is happening now,

but I'd really like it
fixed before our wedding.

Before Saturday?

Would you be an angel and go
down there and sort it out?

It's just a matter of giving the
right man several hundred pounds.

You want me to go now?

But... we get married in four days.

Well, yes, but if you fly today,

you can be there and
back with plenty of time.

I would go myself, but I haven't
a minute to spare this week.

No. Of course.

Oh, good.

Jenny!

I've booked you on the
5pm flight to Marseilles.

Merci.

Merci, monsieur. Gardez
bien votre chapeau.

Thank you.

Give me that back.

Bonsoir. Je cherche pour
Jane Jenkins et Marie Dubois?

De Latin American Entertainment Company?

Upstairs.

I'm so sorry you've had to
stay in this awful area.

Don't worry, ladies, I'm here to help.

Mr Pennyfeather, you are under arrest

for aiding and abetting prostitution,

for slave trading and
for passport forgery.

This is your new home.

You are going to hate it here SO much.

Super.

Oh, how are you? Is it awful here?

Awful.

I need to get out of here, too.

I have to escape.