Saint Cecilia of Spiralence (2020) - full transcript

November 1963, London. An East End slum landlord with a reputation for protecting the morally abhorrent is assigned the unenviable task of chaperoning a vision-plagued Catholic Nun to her mission in Paris. - stop by if you're interested in the nutritional composition of food
(gentle choral music)

(camera humming)

(gentle choral music)
(camera humming)

- The premonition is back.

It's a big black car.

I've never seen a car like this before.

I'm sitting next to you in it.

We're in the back, and it's got no roof.

It's going really slowly.

Everyone is cheering for us.

We're really popular and liked.

I think we might be married,

but I don't know where the children are.

And I hear this noise.

It's like.

(woman imitating buzzing)

And your head explodes all over me.

And you're dead.

Instantly your head is in my
breast and I'm cradling you.

And all of my guilt, all
of my pains, all my wrongs,

they just don't matter anymore.

Because what's just
happened is so massive.

It changes the world.

(gentle music)

(gentle choral music)

(tape scratching softly)

(gentle choral music)

(distant fire crackling)

(gentle choral music)

(tape scratching softly)

(gentle classical music)

(radio adjusting)

- [BBC News Reporter] Mrs.
Marston, BBC News Corporation.

What brings you to Bermondsey?

- [Mrs. Marston] Oh, I could
ask you the same question.

Luckily, I'm used to having these things

pointed in my face at all hours.

I'm actually trying to locate my husband.

The television news team is
on the street, a coincidence.

- [BBC News Reporter] An
elusive man, your husband.

Any comment on the reshuffle
and his return to politics?

- [Mrs. Marston] Oh, I
generally try to stay

out of politics, but I do
believe he's planning on

writing a book before his
return to Westminster.

- [BBC News Reporter] What
about his good relations

with America?

Would he not be an
ideal foreign secretary?

- [Mrs. Marston] Oh, you'll
have to ask him that question.

(typewriter keys clicking)

(equivocal instrumental music)

(radio adjusting)

(flame crackling softly)

- [Sister Andrea] Dear Mr. Pope,

I have risked my life to follow you

out of my turmoil in the orphanage.

I hope on the outside I can recover.

Perhaps this is the letter
that will finally reach you.

If it does, please conceal
it until you know the truth.

I once wrote to you daily,

but saw all of my letters
stolen by the other nuns.

All my previous confessions,
harrowing as they are,

used against me in abuse and mocking.

Having watched this drop
into the postbox myself,

I hope this is the letter that saves me.

That is sin, Mr. Pope.

That is my shame.

Look for those words on a confession,

and you'll know it came
from my hand first.

Because of you, I now
consider myself to have

broken my vows and betrayed my faith,

but the Church knows none of this.

Sister Priscille is a murderer.

Even Father Britten who has
arranged our secret meetings

and is himself guilty of his
own crimes realises this.

He was with myself and Sister
Francis as the orphanage

awoke to the thud of a child
(glass shattering)

falling from the window.
(body thudding)

The tragedy was passed off as an accident,

but Sister Mary knew otherwise.

The boy was already dead in his bed,

bled to death by tiny cuts

long before he was
pushed into the courtyard

in an attempt to conceal her wickedness.

You are my saviour, Mr. Pope.

Sister Andrea.

(equivocal music)

Oh my God.

I am heartily sorry for
having offended thee.

And I detest all my sins

because I dread the loss of
heaven and the pains of hell.

But most of all because
they offending thee, my God,

who are all good and
deserving of all my love.

I firmly resolve with
the help of thy grace

to confess my sins, to do
penance and to amend my life.


(sombre electronic music)

(solemn music)

(coffee splashing)

♪ Sunrise in the morning ♪

♪ Sunrise in the day ♪

♪ Heat in the morning ♪

♪ Heat in the day ♪

♪ Sunrise in the morning ♪

♪ Sunrise in the day ♪

♪ Sunrise in the morning
marks the end of days ♪

♪ Heat is overwhelming me ♪

♪ Mind is in a daze ♪

- I said too much on the
television, didn't I?

They asked me the questions!

Did it go in the papers, as well?

He's been a bad boy, hasn't he?

♪ Heat in the morning ♪

♪ Heat in the day ♪

♪ Heat on the body ♪

♪ Heat there everyday ♪

- I'm sure I could find you some money.

Or I can just get out of
the way, how about that?

I've got a sister in Liverpool
and a friend in Cornwall.


Nice and far away.

Never to appear back this way again.

(utensils clang)

I know what you did to Trevor.

I'm not stupid!

But that boy didn't do three months inside

to go up to Scotland, to be
run over by a car, did he?

Good little paper boy, he was.

Never missed a day, until Max got him.

I know my boy is dangerous,
but I didn't raise him, did I?

Never expected to see him again.

I mean, I won't see him again at all,

if that's the way it needs to be.

(solemn music)

I'm sure you'll find a way
to keep in touch, won't you?

(woman sighs softly)

Mrs. Norris can probably
take over from me.

(solemn music)

♪ Heat is overwhelming me ♪

♪ Mine is in a daze ♪

♪ As I see the future ♪

♪ The end, it looks so bleak ♪

(phone rings)

♪ I look up at the sunshine ♪

- Hello?

♪ For the answers that I seek ♪

- [Man] Did he call here?

- My brother went missing.

He went to jail convicted
of robbing a politician

in a bedroom.

When they released him, he disappeared.

He used to deliver papers to Mrs. Marston.

It was the lodger that he robbed.

I've seen that lodger here.

(edgy, suspenseful music)

(Max groaning softly)

(edgy music)

(Max groans)

(teacup clatters)

(teacup clatters)

(utensils clang)

(utensils clang)

(edgy music)

(utensils clang)

- Bloody Home, he sold me down the line.

I was far more in with
the Yanks than he was,

but look at him now.

Best friends with Kennedy,

and now he's bloody Prime Minister.

Me? (chuckles)

I'm bloody out of a job.

It all comes down to what
my Marston used to say.

- Be Mark in the town and
Max in the country, dear.

- "Be Mark in town, Max
in the country, dear."

- You can be whatever you want,

but if they get a whiff of you liking men,

you'll be out of that door in a second.

- "You can be whatever you want,

"but if they all get a
whiff of you liking men,

"you'll be out that door in a second."

- On the public scrap heap,
faster than you can mince, dear.

- "On the public scrap heap
faster than you can mince."

Oh, Mrs. Marston, stop it.

It was one time, I should never have told.

- But it wasn't just the
one time, was it, Max?

- "Oh, but it wasn't just
the one time, was it, Max?"

- Max, stop procrastinating.

I'm here for the rent.

25 quid, please.

- Extortion.

- Value, Mr. Brockton.

- Extortion, Mr. Pope.

- Don't get smart.

Are you married?

- Of course I'm married.

- Married, but with the
preference of company.

- Yes, married with the
preference of company,

as you put it.

This place should be cleaned a
bit more for what I'm paying.

- Have you ever had any
trouble in the past few months?

- No, not a pinch.

- You had trouble though, didn't you?

Cheap rent, but she wondered
what all the banging was,

didn't she?

- Oh, it was such a violent crime.

- The crucifix fell off
the wall, didn't it?

- He thumped him so much up there,

the crucifix fell off the wall.

- Made her spill her tea. (laughs)

Very religious old dear, wasn't she?

But you, you got carried
away, didn't you? (laughs)

Gave her the fright of her life.

And then when she saw poor little Trevor

staggering down the stairs. (laughs)

With a crisp handful
of banknotes. (laughs)

Oh, Max, Max Brockton, former
MP, "robbed" in daylight.

- Poor old Max.

- Jesus, Max.

Me, getting that boy arrested too.

(scoffs) Honestly, that is one
of the most shameful things

I've done, to anyone.

- When I think Trevor was my
paper boy for three years.

- I got carried away with the lad.

- Trevor Maude got three months.

- I shouldn't have let that happen.

- It's been discussed.

Trevor got out about three weeks ago.

I moved him up to Scotland.

Edinburgh even, nice place,

but he's gonna need a bit of protection.

I mean, down here, you'll
just make him another Sammy.

- Sammy Steele?

- Yes.

Sammy Steele.

- Hmm, I thought he was dead.

- He is.

You and your Westminster
cronies put him under.

The drugs, the pills, the booze. (groans)

People aren't playthings, Max.

But to you, you with your
money and your titles,

sometimes I honestly think
you are immune to normality.

You know, if it wasn't
for Trevor's parents,

you could have got away
with that one, again.

But I know them, so they take precedence.

You do realise your bill's a little more

than 25 quid though, don't you?

- Straight to the solicitors
in the morning, then.

You know, there's a little
bolt hole on Park Lane

that no one wants to be
associated with anymore.

Something happened there,
but still an all right place.

I'll get that signed over.

How about that?

Will that shut you up?

- That'll do the trick.

You want to send some funds to Trevor?

- Solicitors tomorrow, whenever you think.

- Well, whilst you're pissing
away the family fortune,

buggering everything in sight,

what about the family of Mrs. Marston?

- I moved out, didn't I?

- That woman's spread gossip

faster than the clap in barracks.

Lucky I got to her.

She was on her way to
the Women's Institute.

Can you imagine, Max?

- Someone said...

- He was a homosexual!

He was Faggington Faggot from Fag Street!

I get it, Mr. Pope.

Everyone would've known.

Millie would have been
in a terrible state.

- Your wife is in a terrible
state every night, Max.

- What are you saying?

- She knows.

She's your biggest cause of concern.

I mean, as soon as the queue of men

go back to work on Monday morning,

she remembers who she's married to.

- She's not that bad.

- She is that bad, Max.

She's a drunk.

She needs a bit of control behind her.

You do know I've got a list of
your crimes and misdemeanours?

- So what?

- Well, I'm afraid the price
of protection has gone up son.

If Home hadn't snubbed me, I
would have been in the cabinet.

- (chuckles) Well, don't be
a bumboy all your life, aye?

- I'm glad you've got faith in me.

- Take stock of life, will ya?

And that Trevor thing,

that Trevor thing was
the absolute last resort.

- Wait.

Oh, bloody hell, he's not
in Edinburgh at all, is he?

Where is he?

- For now let's just called
it a road traffic accident.

- You didn't have to kill
him as well, did you?

- Look, you actually want
this career in politics.

It comes at a price.

And that's three people in
the past year that we've

dealt with protecting your indiscretions.

You oughta be careful boy.

Else your career is
going to be short-lived.

- It won't happen again.

- Sister Cecilia.

Max and I need to have a
more private conversation.

Will you oblige?

Sister Cecilia.

She's a systematic abuser of children.

- Well, what do you mean

she's a systematic abuser of children?

She's a nun, they're all tyrants.

That's what happens with
power and no intelligence.

- Ethics, compassion.

- Ethics? (laughs)

Oh, that's why I like you, Mr. Pope.

It's all compassion, humanity,
balance and ethics with you.

And then you and your gang go and quietly

murder a few people for me. (laughs)

Oh, you hate this, don't you?

Sorting out the mistakes of
privileged idiots like me

who treat the plebs for what they are.

And I don't want to be
a politician really.

I want to be in that bar in
Soho pissing it up all day

with some fairy. (laughs)

Wait, systematic abuser of children?

New term, I suppose.

Are the police getting serious?

- She's a complicated one.

I can tell you that.

- Oh, I know, I've seen her.

I am in the room next to her.

I don't know what she doesn't
do to herself in there,

but she seems to enjoy it.

- I have to pay rent
on this room, you know.

I can't live in the convent
and go to the school with you.

You're not going to tell anyone, are you?

Are you?

You know what I can do for you, don't you?

What did you make me do?

Why couldn't you just
like me for who I am?

I didn't want to do this!

I wanted to be important
to you, but now...

Oh, it's all over, isn't it?

Stay there!

Don't move or you'll end up like the rest.

It's your word against mine.

It is your word against mine. (chuckles)

Look at me. (chuckles)

Who wouldn't want this?


Marble skin, flawless.

(laughs) Blemish free.


You didn't want this, did you?

So, you can stay there until
I tell you to come out.

(Sister Andrea laughs)

Don't let me get Father Britten.

You know what he'll do to you, don't you?

You see, with you and me the
power is with you over me.

The sisters, they want
me to go back to Paris.

They tracked me down.

Father Peter found this
place, but. (laughs)

They don't know about you.

I'll get you something more later.

I'll look after you better.

I've got to answer that phone.

(Sister Andrea sighs)

(footsteps pattering)

(Mr. Pope sighs)

- She's no different to you
by the sounds of things.

- Sounds like you've had her once

and you've got a thing for her.

- It's one of the wrong kinds of love.

It's in a book you might have read.

- Ah, I know this.

We've had this discussion before.

I do love it when you
start using your brain.

And so what is it then?

Psychopathia Sexualis
by R. Von Krafft-Ebing?

Placed next to Marquis de
Sade, 120 Days of Sodom?

Both rather dirty reads
for the unliberated mind,

if I remember?

But that Sexualis book. (laughs)

Medical textbook - not
for the faint of heart.

- It classifies the
different types of love.

- Well, briefly, yes.

And of course that means
you've reached the section,

which makes you think you're her saviour.

- No, the problem is I am her saviour.

You see the other nuns, they're
already rounding on her.

- [Max] You're not evicting me then.

You're warning me your
leaving, is that right?

- Maybe.

- Well, might be about time.

I've been invited to America,
you think I should go?

One thing I did for
myself a few months back

was get myself on good terms
with their administration.

I mean the odd couple that came over.

Took them out to dinner and all that.

Lots of big accents and handshakes,

but, well, they didn't
care what I was up to.

- Oh, you played it
straight for the weekend.

Course they didn't care.

- British and straight
talking, I made progress.

That was the one thing
Home did acknowledge.

I guess we'll have to see who
the world blows up next, aye?

- Yeah, well, don't get too cocky.

- I was supposed to be his speech writer.

- Well, I'm sure if the
right scenario comes up.

Whitehall will have a
car out front for you.

Did you see my note?

Everything seems to be
revolving around television now.

I don't want a television
set in this house.

- The television people were
asking about Mr. Gruber.

- Ah, Mr. Gruber.

- You know Mr. Gruber then?

- Wait.

You're just acting uptight because you're

protecting him two doors down, aren't you?

(laughs) I knew it.

- Well, I hate to say it but

he'll have it coming to him

When he drops his guard on pint number 11.

- He can put them away, can't he?

I mean, I thought I could,
but he is something else.

- You can have as much
information as you want

about the nun.

She's propped up by God.

But Mr. Neubert, well,
he's a different matter.

He's paid for his status.

So, unless you want to befriend him,

I suggest you simply respect him.

- I have the rent, Mr. Pope.

- How much does he charge you?

- He doesn't.

- Well, then what's in the envelope?

- Names, confessions, details.

- Oh, about what?

- What I did in the war.

What I witnessed.

- War hero?

Mr. Pope, here, that's
all he would me about you.

That you're a war hero.

- To my comrades, I was.

- Comrades?

- You don't work for the Russians, do you?

- Mr. Brockton, you are a politician.

Recently unemployed.

You exposing me would
be without comparison

to the dangers of me exposing you.

Mr. Pope is always fair.

- All right, now I'm
forgetting how this works.

No bloody rent though, honestly.

- Mr. Brockton,

will you please refrain from
insulting Mr. Neubert further?

- It's the principal, Mr. Pope.

He's foreign.

I'm English for the past 1000 years.

- Mr. Neubert here is paid in full.

- My apologies, Mr. Neubert.

Indiscretion got the better of me.

- I know it was an abbey.

I know there were prisoners of war.

I know I followed orders
but I also know that...

I was a fanatic.

I'm waiting for my past to be revealed.

Everyday more documents are
unearthed, remains found,

causes of death slowly deduced.

Historians are digging.

Men like me are quivering

because I'm a murderer.

And I sit here talking with you.

You don't judge me.

And you, a nun.

The hypocrisy comes with
what I will tell you next.

The one woman I deliberately killed

without orders

was a nun.

It was some kind of barbaric celebration.

This chaste servant of God.

She could have been you, a treasure.

I shot her in the face

so my comrades would stop raping her.

Why do you listen to me, Sister?

- (sighs) You're not much older than me.

I also live a life of
conflict within these walls.

- But you have the convent, the school.


- I don't have God.

I've served God as a reward,
you know what it is to do that?

You go into God's room and set the table.

You go into God's room
and put the plate down

without spilling anything.

You walk away and freeze in fear

as God pulls down your underwear

and tells you you have cute little buns.

- [Man] You have cute little bu...

- The next time I served
God, I threw soup in his lap.

You see, it's not right to
do that to a child, is it?

- In a civilised world, no.

- Your world is civil now.

- I work in the library.

It's the education I never had.

I need to be as clever as I was strong.

On paper, I am an Englishman.

I see a woman who works
in a department store.

- I don't believe you.

You stay here because your
preferences are tolerated.

I'm actually quite scared.

I think I might be
beginning to lose my mind.

I don't want our secret
to collapse because of me.

So, I might need you to help me.

I'm not sure where the
landlord stands with me.

Can I tell you something extra though?

Max in the other room, he's a politician.

He's got dangerous views on war.

- How are they dangerous?

- He wants to campaign
the way your party did.

He sympathises with the publicity,

wants to know more about its origins.

- That's not enough of a
secret, Sister Cecilia.

- Sister Priscille murdered a child.

It was passed off as a tragic accident.

What else can I offer?

- I don't know anymore.

- Wait, I need to ask you something.

Do you have premonitions?

- Oh dear.

How far have you rejected faith?

- Far enough to know I've
seen glimpses of things

before they happen.

I see a man in a library.

Like you.

You're a man in a library.

But this library is tall.

So many floors, such an incredible view.

There's a man in this place,
he shouldn't be there.

He's out of place, and he's
carrying something that

has no earthly reason to be there.

What is it?

I can't see it, it's obscured from view.

In the war, you used a church
as a command post, didn't you?

From the bell tower,

you could see any ground attack for miles,

but it was near impossible to
climb with your rifle intact.

So, you had to disassemble it
and rebuild it in position.

- Maybe I told you that before.

- No, you haven't told me this.

I've been expecting a call actually.

I've been called back to Paris.

I don't want to go,

but I might be threatened
with prison if I don't.

- What have you done?

- Lots of things, but I
don't know right from wrong.

I leave you in peace, Mr. Neubert.

- Would you like the truth

or would you like to be kept in the dark?

Trust me, it's easier if you

keep yourself in the dark on this matter.

- I would like the truth please.

- To the right people,
Mr. Gruber is a code.

To the wrong people, Mr.
Gruber is just another name.

Does that make sense?

- No, it doesn't.

What would the answer to the code be?

- It's a code that we
currently give to war criminals

who have assimilated
themselves into society.

- Is Robert one of them?

- Yes, he is relatively unique.

And that is why he is afforded protection.

- How can he be unique
if he's a war criminal?

- He was a child soldier in the Jungvolk.

He was too young to be held
accountable for his actions.

Does that clarify things?

- Well, you've done a good job
of distracting me, Mr. Pope.

I want to know about my brother.

- You took a phone call
for me earlier, didn't you?

- The person barely said a word.

- [Man] Did he call here?

- And then hung up.

- I've got a friend at the
Cambridge Evening News.

He was calling about another matter,

but he took a call in his
office from an American

at about five past six.

The caller said,

"Call the American embassy
for some big news."

Now, that man is a sound and loyal person

with no security record.

He doesn't get calls like that every day.

Do you understand what my business is now?

I'm afraid you won't be seeing
any more of Mr. Neubert,

but that one's for the
police to deal with.

You see, in here, I've got two nuns

who don't know what day of the week it is.

And I've had the company
of Mr. Max Brockton,

who has the benefit of
immeasurable wealth.

Your brother was in the
process of being found.

He still will be.

- You mean.

(belt rattles)

- [Mr. Pope] Listen,
I've been paid to get you

to the Mission in Paris,
under the radar of the police.

It can be done, but I need
you to cooperate with me.

- Mr. Pope, you do realise,

I know what you did in the library.

- [Mr. Pope] (laughs) Wait,
you've had this argument

with someone else before, haven't you?

I know where it goes.

Shall I play along?

- I don't know, maybe you should.

Maybe it was real.

You were in the library
in the reference section.

- [Mr. Pope] No, you were in
the library in the corner,

presenting yourself to those girls.

- How dare you make that accusation?

- [Mr. Pope] And at the sake of a scene,

the disgust of those witnessing it

was pointed in my direction, was it not?

(chuckles) Do you remember
when the ice cream truck

broke down?

(eerie ice cream truck music)

You chaperoned all the children to queue

as Mr. Whipps handed out
all those delicious treats.

(laughs) Do you remember that?

You had the paddle in that
great leather bag, didn't you?

All those children.

I mean, eventually they
couldn't eat another ice cream.

And then they were beaten
until they were sick.

That's what I remember you for.

That was the first time Father Britten

had come to me for help.

- God was rewarding them,
and they spurned his rewards.

- [Mr. Pope] (laughs) Force-feeding
children ice cream they

don't want to eat is cruel

and unusual punishment, Sister Cecilia.

- The Church isn't
going to save me, is it?

- [Mr. Pope] No, it's
only gonna make you worse.

- I like to be alone, Mr. Pope.

I like to watch people,
it doesn't matter where.

I like to imagine.


I like to uncover secrets.

I have no secrets.

My secret is you.

I have never yet lain
with another man in love.

I've never had my body
intruded upon in love

by anyone but you.

Does that mean my child
is holier than thou?

Holier than me?

God in his own female vision?

(gentle music)

- [Mr. Pope] And where
is our daughter, Cecilia?

- In the convent.

Cared for in discretion by
the sisters who accepted her

unique conception to be a sign from God.

I'm sure she would delight in
hearing your voice, Father.

- You are not protected by the Church

in the way you think you are.

The protection

comes from me.

You beat those children black and blue,

and the ones you like,

you take them upstairs
to that room of yours.

And then you collapse in fear.

They hide under the bed as you descend

into some kind of mania.

But I know you.

Your will isn't that of the others.

It isn't in your

desire to impose on them the
way the others imposed on you.

- How do you know this?

- What do you think I do?

I don't work for the
Church, Sister Cecilia.

The Church is finding me money, yes,

but this work is disturbing me.

Midnight runs to early morning ferries,

train journeys to far away places,

nuns and priests moved from harm's way.

The nuns though, at the moment,

well, they get it easy.

Lenient, they're women.

They're not capable of punishment
the way the priests are.

You are.

(phone ringing)

(Mr. Pope sighs)
(phone rings)

(phone ringing)

- Is that going to be the phone call

from the Mission in Paris?

(Mr. Pope chuckles)

- Worst thing for you
this year, eh, technology?

(phone ringing)

Direct line to Paris. (chuckles)

Who'd have thought it, aye?

(phone receiver rattles)

Look, I'm doing my best to
deflect things for you, okay?

(phone ringing)

(Mr. Pope sighs)
(phone rings)

Well, Sister Apollonia,
it's been a very long day.

Yes, I understand and acknowledge
our prior arrangements.

I will do everything in my power

to look after sister Cecilia.

Yes, as a man who cares for privacy,

I assumed this is a matter to be treated

with a direct approach.

(sighs) Nobody else need
be involved, correct?

She will be with you
as quickly as possible.

I will, however, evaluate the
situation before progressing,

and due to various combinations

and the necessity of discretion,
when on public transport,

you should expect us in the Mission

no earlier than Friday.

I don't care about
anything else, all right?

Is that understood? (sighs)

(phone receiver rattles)

Seven times.

Seven times in the past two
years, did you know that?

You'll be the eighth church member I've

whisked away across The Channel.

These orphanages, they
are becoming a disgrace.

- My habits are quite discreet.

But stained habits raise questions.

I've hit the children on 1000 occasions,

but the other things.

I might've done those 1000 times too.

I've never killed a child
like Sister Priscille.

- And you run away because
you took advantage of so many.

- I've lost my mind, Mr. Pope.

God wins.

- What do you mean God wins?

- I am a skilled predator.

I hunt my prey, I'm a monster,

but he is omniscient, Mr. Pope.

- No, no, no, that is called
psychosis, Sister Andrea.

Mind and body are not as one.

How about I give you a second option?

- Instead of Paris?

- Yes, instead of Paris.

Go back home, go into your room,

give all those poor boys money,

and tell them to never, ever come back.

- There aren't any boys in my room.

- [Mr. Pope] I know that, Sister Cecilia.

At the moment, all those boys
are simply running around

in your head.

- Saint Cecilia took
three blows to the neck

from the axeman's sword
and still she survived.

- [Mr. Pope] For three
days, Sister Andrea,

and then her house became a church.

Don't let me lose my desire
to help you, Cecilia.

- If I martyr myself, you won't.

- Just be thankful there
aren't really any dead boys

under the bed in your room.

- Why?

- You would probably hang.

- Are you going to look after me?

Or just take me to the Mission in Paris?

- I don't want to be responsible
for you going to Paris.

- I have a compulsion, remember?

- I don't think the Church
is your religion anymore.

I don't really think
you've got a compulsion.

I think your compulsion is
simply the habitual abuse

of power that you've become accustomed to.

You're in denial of the
person you actually are.

- I'm a deviant, aren't I?

- No.

At base, we are all far more primal

than we actually realise.

Don't ever let society label you.

- I need a confession.

I need a proper confession.

Sister Priscille taught
me, and I never knew why.

Now I've got older, I've learnt things.

I've learnt that there
might be something wrong

in my church.

And I've also learnt what
might be most sickening.

I am both victim and perpetrator.

They're my normality.

- Sister Andrea, listen.

- Why do you call me Sister Andrea?

- Because the use of Sister Cecilia

is an informal way for the
mission to enlist the help

of people like me who
specialise in discretion.

We are all part of the
same hypocrisy here.

I exist to prevent, protect, allow

and monitor the behaviour of
individuals of all persuasions.

It's both a conundrum and a paradox.

It's something that very
few people understand,

but when you push the mark,

the telephone calls become more frequent.

The knocks at the door
become more sinister.

Meetings become loaded, and
I become the subtle authority

who guides you back to the light.

- I like the boys, Mr. Pope.

- We know you like the
boys, Sister Cecilia.

It's becoming something of a problem

because the boys like you too.

You stay in that
orphanage for another year

and any innocence left inside of you

will disappear into hate faster
than Sister Priscille can

run a razor blade over your
most intimate parts. (sighs)

(vibrant classical music)

Priscille, she damn near bled
some boy to death last year.

Not even my lads do that.

(phone ringing)

Yes, this is Bermondsey 01-237.

This is the landlord speaking.

No, Mr. Brockton isn't available

to speak to you at the moment.

Can I ask who is calling?

No, I'm afraid a friend isn't good enough.

I need to know your name.

Alec Douglas-Home from Downing Street?

Well. (laughs)

It's Mr. Pope.

Yes, we might've met once or twice in the

early days, shall we say?

Well, Christ, something must be wrong.

I mean, it's not every day

that the Prime Minister
phones this number.

Well, listen, I did speak
with Brockton earlier.

You two buried the hatchet?

Well, come on, what's so important?

Why do you need him so urgently?

I thought you sacked him in
that partial cabinet reshuffle.

Well, look, I mean, he's a good writer.

I'll give him that, but.

All right, well.

You send the car over,
and I'll send someone

to pull him out of the pub, how's that?

All right.

(phone receiver slams)

- What's happened?

- Trouble.

Home wouldn't be calling
Mr. Brockton if it wasn't.

Sister Andrea, can you
do something for me?

- Something normal, you mean.

- Yes, something normal.

Can you run downstairs into the kitchen

and bring up the cakes that I
bought in the bakers earlier?

I think we could all deal
with a cake, a sweet treat.

And if Mr. Brockton comes running in

he'll probably want something to sober up.

(vibrant classical music)

(footsteps pattering)

- Is Sister Cecilia getting the buns?

I think I need to sober up, Mr. Pope.

And what's going on?

Home Secretary's just called the pub.

Frank comes over says
there's a call for me.

Mary's on the other end of the line

saying nothing will
ever be the same again.

Am I getting arrested?

(solemn music)

Ah great, cake. (laughs)

(hungry moaning)

So you see, that's what I'm best at,

eulogies and obituaries. (chuckles)

I mean, I'm not exactly you're whiter

than white politician, am I? (coughs)

Want to take some cake though.

Help me sober up.

(Max clears throat)

No unnecessary attention to
be brought to the property.

I know the rules.

I'll talk with you all when
we know what's happened.

Could be talking about it for months.

- Hmm.

Ich bin ein Berliner.

(teeth crunching)

The cake, it's called a Berliner.

(footsteps pattering)

(solemn music)

(phone dial clicking)

- Hi, Wendy, it's Millie.

I've been told to call in.

Oh, I have absolutely
no idea what's going on.

We're in the dark.

Tell me, Wendy.

I'm not sure how it works
now he's out of government,

but will the car still
come and pick us up?

- Do you know what's happening?

- I have no idea.

- You see that other girl just walk out?

- Yes, and why was she here?

- There's a problem with your husband.

- It didn't look like his type.

- Shall I be crude?
- No need.

You obviously know my husband.

- Look, we have no idea
what is actually going on,

but we know something is going on.

And whatever something this is

means your husband has been called back

into the arms of government.

- And you need me to complete the image.

- Yes, but that's not why you're here.

- Then why am I here?

- Your husband owes money.

Your husband owes a great deal of money.

We need to go to the
solicitor in the morning

to take care of certain transactions.

- And you need my signature?

No problem.

And what property is it that'll
be buying silence this time?

- It's a notorious
little spot on Park Lane.

- I remember it.

Has a music room, I believe.

Lots of parties.

- Lots of scandalous parties.

- So, what has he done?

- Enough for a property like that

to be signed over to someone like me.

- Do I need to know what he's done?

- No.

Don't ever look at the photographs

that are in that envelope.

- Who's he with?

- He isn't.

Who were you with?

They aren't photographs of your husband.

They are photographs of
you with your various

liaisons of a dangerous variety.

- Are you trying to
blackmail me, Mr. Pope?

- No.

No, I'm not trying to blackmail you.

I'm just giving you one of
the many things your husband

has paid me for.

Those being in my possession
mean they are not in the

possession of some tabloid hack

looking to drag your name through the mud.

At the moment, your husband
is protected by myself,

my crew, and my respective associates.

As soon as he goes back into
government, we can't help him.

We've got to peel away.

We can't have the association.

- So, you're tying up loose ends.

- We've silenced people whose
opinions didn't match the

public perception of
Mr. Marston. (chuckles)

We've also silenced
some people your husband

should never have

interfered with.

Are you reading between
the lines of the spiral?

- I believe so.

So, what do I need to do?

- I need you to be a good
wife to your husband.

- Is that it?

- You had a drink today?

- No.

- Don't lie to me.

I could smell it on your breath

when you come in the front door.

- And what should that matter?

- Who did you wake up next to?

- I don't like your questions.

- All right then.

Like I said,

you just need to be a
good wife to your husband.

Stop the one night stands.

Stop the gin.

Stop being a trollop.

We've cleaned your husband's slate.

Your slate is clean too, but I
suggest you keep it that way.

- And what if I relapse?

- Arrangements were in
place for your husband.

Do you understand what
those arrangements were?

- You were going to kill him.

- (laughs) Don't be silly.


We were simply going to disgrace him.

Your reputation could
have been in pieces too.

Something very serious
has actually happened.

And at the moment we have no idea what.

- Should I go to church, Mr. Pope?

- Might be good for your image.

Do you like music?

- Yes.

- Well, today is the
feast of Saint Cecilia,

patroness of music.

I'm sure there's plenty of church concerts

happening out there this evening.

I suggest you go and find one.

- You are forcing me to
be somebody I am not.

I'm not a fan of religion, Mr. Pope.

- It's not about being
a fan of anything, dear.

It's about dealing with the
fact that you and your husband

could be on the precipice of a scandal.

(edgy music)

- I see a plane.

I've never been on a plane,
but this is as clear as day.

It's noisy in there.

There are so many
important people, Mr. Pope.

Why are there no Bibles in this house?

We need a Bible.

Have I got bloodstains on my habit?

There's a woman in pink.

She's covered in blood.

Her dress is spattered.

All they want is a Bible, Mr. Pope,

but they can't find one, it's too late.

It might just be time to go home.

It wasn't me who needed a Bible.

They've used St. Joseph's Sunday missal.

He's swearing on the
prayer book, in God's name.

My vision, Mr. Pope.

- What was the special secret you shared

with Mr. Neubert, Sister Andrea?

- He wanted to be intimate with a woman

for the first time in his life.

- And you fulfilled this role for him?

- We talked, I tried, but I told him

I didn't know what intimacy was.

And I came to realise that

everything I do with these boys is.

- Is what, Sister Cecilia?

- Juvenile in process.

I wrote it down but Sister
Priscille stole my letter.

You see, sin speaks louder than words.

- I see.

(radio adjusting)

(footsteps pattering)

(tin thudding)

(footsteps pattering)

(soft classical music)

(soft classical music)

- That is sin, Mr. Pope.

That is my shame.

(paper rustling)

- [Sister Andrea] "That is sin, Mr. Pope.

"That is my shame.

"Look for those words on a confession,

"and you'll know it came
from my hand first."

- I'm not interested in your
complicit personal shame,

Sister Cecilia.

- My name is Priscille.

- In this house,

you're a Sister Cecilia.

It gives you a degree of anonymity.

It gives you protection

far greater than the power of God.

You understand that?

Pack your things.

(glass shattering)

We leave for Paris in a couple hours.

- Why would we leave for Paris?

- Because my arrangement
with the Church dictates.

I have to take someone to the mission.

You haven't yet absconded
from the convent, have you?

As ever, they are simply
expecting a Sister Cecilia.

If I deliver you, no
questions will be asked of me.

You were given the rules of
this house, were you not?

- What about Sister Andrea, she is...

- My responsibility,

The convent is still looking for her.

They feel she has probably been

lost to the ways of the street.

I've guided them to that conclusion.

- Sister Andrea is a murderer.

I watched her.

- You, Sister Priscille,

failed to guard a reputation
that now precedes you.

(Mr. Pope sighs)

(razor blade scratches softly)

Weapon of choice, I hear.

This takes us to Paris without suspicion.

- You're a priest.

- No.

I was a priest, but now I'm
whatever you want me to be.

Pack your things.

(sombre music)

- [BBC New Reporter]
This is a special report

from the BBC Home Service.

The keynotes of a bulletin from CBS News

that we are now relaying
to other news agencies

across the world as we
now collate a full report.

In Dallas, Texas, three gunshots

were aimed at President's
Kennedy's motorcade

in Downtown Dallas.

Initial reports suggest the President

has been wounded in this shooting.

Witnesses said Mrs. Kennedy stood up,

grabbed Mr. Kennedy screaming, "Oh no,"

as the motorcade accelerated.

United Press have cautioned

that injuries to President
Kennedy may be fatal.

So, to recap, there has been
an assassination attempt

on President Kennedy in Dallas, Texas.

(camera buzzing)

This is the BBC Home Service
relaying a developing story.

President Kennedy has
been wounded by gunmen

in his automobile alongside
Governor Connally of Texas.

Both have been taken to Parkland Hospital

and we await further development.

1:38 PM.

This is the BBC Home Service
with tragic confirmation

of events that unfolded
today in Dallas, Texas.

President Kennedy was pronounced dead

at 1PM Central Standard Time,
2PM Eastern Standard Time.

Around 38 minutes ago.

(camera buzzing)
(camera clicking)

Vice President Lyndon Johnson has

left the Parkland Hospital in Dallas.

He will take the oath of office shortly

to become the 36th President
of the United States.

(solemn music)