Dickensian (2015–2016): Season 1, Episode 13 - Episode #1.13 - full transcript

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

Fetch me a warm coat. I wish to go out.

I don't think
you understand my predicament.

I should. You find it necessary
to remind me of it often enough.

I am drowning in debt.

I've borrowed money
to support this endeavour.

But if there is no progress,
and my credit fails, then I am lost.

There will be progress.
Perhaps sooner now than you think.

Now, release my arm
before people draw the wrong conclusion.

Thank you.

You said there would be progress.



Am I at least permitted to ask
when I might see it?

- Soon.
- There has been some development?

This partnership will only thrive

if we both stick to what we're best at.

I will bring your sister to heel,
while you, my dear Havisham,

will call Mr Jaggers and see if he can't
extend you an advance of some kind.

You're too sick to eat, is that it?

HONORIA: I doubt
I would be very good company.

Sir Leicester is not a man
to be kept waiting.

Do you think there are not
a hundred women in London

who would trade places with you
given the opportunity?

Well, then let them do so.

And have our father
be sent back to prison?

- No.
- Then you must act to prevent it.



You must know
I have your best interests at heart.

I know.

Things will not happen
on their own, Honoria.

Sir Leicester will not wait forever.

- (DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)
- (SIGHS)

COMPEYSON: Good morning, Mary.

Please let your mistress know I'm here.

I'm afraid Miss has gone out, sir.

Out? Out where?

She didn't say.

Thank you, Mary.
Let her know I called, will you?

- (DOOR CHIME JINGLES)
- MARTHA: A customer, miss.

HONORIA: Thank you, Martha.
Do you have a card?

MARTHA: It's Miss Havisham.

(LAUGHING) Oh!

I just saw Frances.
Seems her humour's not improved.

Oh, which makes it all the better
to see a friendly face.

How are you?

I think I can honestly say
I've rarely felt better.

Oh, so you've decided to treat yourself

- to a new dress.
- AMELIA: Exactly.

Well, magenta is all the rage in Paris.

I was thinking
something a little lighter.

Lighter?

More white.

White?

(GASPS)

(CHUCKLES)

AMELIA: I must say
I thought you'd be happier for me.

HONORIA: I am. Of course I am.

It just seems rather sudden.

Oh.

How often have I had to stand by
and watch the breakneck speed

at which you and your Captain Hawdon
conducted your affair?

I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking.

Do you miss him?

A little.

I was surprised to hear it
from someone else.

Well, it was a very difficult time.

With your father, of course.

But that's all resolved now, is it not?

And I hear you are being courted
by Sir Leicester Dedlock?

Surely that lifts the spirits?

- Hmm.
- He's a good man,

with much influence, and not to mention
a rather large estate.

I'm happy for you.

As I hoped you'd be for me.

Please don't think I'm not.

- I simply advise caution.
- Caution?

Well, I knew you liked him,
but marriage?

You'll understand
when you get to know him better.

When we're alone, he's so different.

I just hate to see you let down.

You think he considers the Havisham
fortune the real prize, and not me.

No, I never said that.

I'm not a child, Honoria.
I know my own mind.

Be happy for me.

(SIGHS) I am. Truly.

Now, let's choose a wedding dress.

Will it taste nice?

EMILY: Medicine always tastes nice,

as long as you remember
it's gonna make you better.

But the brown stuff I had
when my belly was bad didn't.

The trick is to close your eyes
and pretend it's honey.

Did you get it?

A real tonic, they said.

Have him swinging from the chandelier,
if we had one.

EMILY: As long as it does the trick.

- God bless Peter.
- BOB: Yes, indeed.

Hadn't you better get off to work?

No, I'd rather see Tim home
and settled first.

I'll explain to Mr Scrooge.

He's not as bad as people think.

Right, come on, little fella.
Let's get you home and in the warm.

- On you get. One, two, three.
- One, two, three.

(GRUNTS)

A nice warm fire. Oh!
And a spoonful of what will do you good.

- It's gonna taste like honey.
- (CHUCKLES)

We're to be raised up,
Miss Biggetywitch.

- Raised up to our proper place.
- How so?

Erm, Mr Bumble has been told
that his interview with the Board

will take place this week.

He shall purchase a new suit.

By the way you've been talking about it

I thought this promotion of his
was already agreed.

Oh, it's merely a formality.
Nothing more.

A formality that requires a new suit?

I thought I made myself very clear.

What I'm still not clear on
is whether or not

this job you keep talking about
is actually a job

or just a figment of your imagination.

His position will be moved up.
We will be mingling with our betters.

He will need to dress accordingly
by wearing a new suit at his interview.

He will simply be showing the trustees
that he understands

his bespoke responsibilities.

- Oh, so we know where we stand, now?
- Yes.

He ain't got the job yet.

Good morning, Mr Scrooge.

Is it?

EMILY: Well?

- Just like honey.
- (LAUGHS)

Be back to your old self in no time.

(FLOORBOARD CREAKS)

SCROOGE: You're late.

Apologies, Mr Scrooge.

I had to visit the pharmacist, you see.
Young Timothy hasn't been so well.

Oh, dear.

And he chooses an ailment
which needs to be attended on my time

rather than yours?

Well, I had to wait
for the pharmacist to open, you see.

And, well,
I can't be in two places at once, can I?

Ah, I should think not.

As it seems, you insist
on taking your wages

whether you're actually here or not,

then, if you were indeed
in two places at once,

I don't doubt you'd insist
that I paid you twice.

I can stay late. Make up the time.

Mmm-hmm. Yes.

Yes, you will.

But not from the goodness of your heart,
as your manner would have me believe,

but because you owe it to me.

And I'm not in the habit of paying
for things I have not received.

- No.
- No.

The time that you owe shall start
when you have sat at your desk

with pen in hand, not a second before.

No, sir. Thank you, sir.

FAGIN: Dodger, my dear.

Haven't lost any of your guile, I see.

Friend of yours?

Once I'd given him ten bob

and a new silk handkerchief
for his wife.

Good boy. So, what news?

I'm keeping boys in line
till you get out.

What about Bill?

- Ain't seen him.
- You will, my dear.

And when you do,
don't let him throw his weight about.

Make it clear
that you're taking care of the business

with my blessing.

That crossing you
is the same as crossing me.

Treat him like the wild dog he is.

Tight on the leash,
or he'll sink his teeth in you.

- I can handle Bill.
- 'Course you can, my dear.

So, how long you gonna be stuck in here?

Bucket wants it to be me
that killed Jacob Marley,

but he can't prove anything.

It's only his malice keeping me in here.

And that ain't enough for the law.

I'll be home by teatime.

JAGGERS: Good morning, Inspector.

BUCKET: Mr Jaggers.

I understand the pies are rather good.

A weakness.

Is there something
I can do for you, perhaps?

Yes, there is.

It appears you have one of my clients
in your cells.

None of the cutthroats and thieves
we have down there

are likely to have the funds
to afford your services, Mr Jaggers.

My client's name is Mr Fagin.

(CLEARS THROAT)

You are holding him, are you not?

We are.

In the case of Mr Marley's murder.

He had dealings with Mr Marley
of a nefarious nature.

What's more,
he has no credible witnesses

as to his movements
on the night of the murder.

So, you'll be charging him?

Presenting your evidence
to the magistrates in the morning?

See, if Mr Fagin is guilty
and you have proof,

then, like any law-abiding citizen,
I'll be happy to stand beside you

and watch him hang.

But if you have no such proof,

if his detention owes more
to some kind of personal vendetta

against him,
then I will use all my influence

to bring that injustice into the light.

And my influence, as I'm sure you know,
is not inconsiderable.

Might I ask if you're threatening me,
Mr Jaggers?

Hmm. It's not a threat.

It's merely a fair representation
of my intended actions

should you not release my client.

Today.

(WEGG GRUNTING)

MRS GAMP: I'll be off now.
WEGG: Right.

- Since it seems I'm not needed any more.
- Hmm.

And not being disposed
to overstaying my welcome.

Nah.

MRS GAMP: Fanny's offered me a bed,
well, I say a bed,

it's more of a wooden board, really.

Not the best thing for my constitution
from a medical perplexity,

but beggars can't be choosers, eh?
That's what they say.

Mayhaps we could have
a little drop of gin?

A farewell toast. Send me on my way.

Or not.

Well, I bid you farewell, Mr Wegg,
and, uh,

I hope I've served you well
and that you will think of me kindly

- from time to time.
- (SCOFFS)

- (WEGG GRUNTS IN PAIN)
- (GASPS)

(GROANING IN PAIN)

Well, get it off him someone!

Oh, stand back, I'm a nurse.
Let me through.

Oh, give him some air. Move.

Now, it's probably broke.
Someone go to the pharmacy.

Get some splints, bandages,
morphine for the pain,

and someone get me a gin.

- Wait.
- MRS GAMP: I am well-documented

in emergency situations.
You just lay back,

and let me tend to your appendage.

I don't need a nurse.

He's delirious, that what it is.
Where's that morphine?

- Where's my gin?
- Stop!

I don't need a nurse or a splint.

Just...

A carpenter.

What's it like at the back?
Could you turn?

It's beautiful, miss.

AMELIA: You look dreadfully pale,
is it too tight?

Oh, I'm fine.

The veil.

Excellent.

But I want bigger at the bottom,
more volume.

Could you turn again, please?

Pardon me, miss,
but do you have a date yet?

- For the wedding?
- No, my fianc? insists it will be soon.

He's very impulsive.

Well, if there's time, we should look
through all the illustrations.

Isn't that right, miss?

Miss Honoria?

Huh?

Oh, er, um, of course we should.

Yes, please do.
Every detail must be perfect.

Martha, the design book.

Would you excuse me a moment?

(BREATH TREMBLING)

(MR BUMBLE GRUNTING)

MRS BUMBLE: Hurry, Bumble!

(STRAINING) Almost there, my sweet.

Does it fit?

It's snug, my love.

Oh, snug is good.

It suggests opulence, authority...

- (INHALES)
- I had the tailor be penurious

in his measurements.

- (EXHALES)
- There's nothing worse

than a suit hanging off a man,

as though he were a twig beside a lake,

a pond which the owner
has flung his attire

before taking a swim.

A man should have
an abundance about him.

He should be substantial.

I can't wait, Bumble.

(CHUCKLING)

Substantial enough for you, madam?

(GASPS)

Oh.

The suit does something for you, sir.

(GASPS) Oh, I have a flutter.

A flutter?

Oh, there is an awakening.

- Oh.
- (BREATHING HEAVILY)

Something stirs...

Like an itch inside me.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

- Then we must scratch it, my dear.
- No, no, no. Keep it on. Bumble.

(WHIMPERING) But the trousers, my sweet.
They are beyond snug.

They've stopped the circulation.

Little Bumble is imprisoned.

Deprived of light, movement.

We must free him.

Show some restraint, sir!

There are more important things
to worry about than Little Bumble.

- There are?
- Yes.

You must wear in your suit.

It must not look new
when you attend the interview.

It must appear as though
it is just one of your many suits, hmm?

But, it's my only suit.

Yeah, but they must think you
a man of means,

not a man with only one suit.

- Oh!
- (BOTH CHUCKLE)

Wear it in.

Hmm.

Back to work, Inspector?

It seems I must let a certain eel
slip the net.

- You don't sound very pleased about it.
- I'm not.

Has Arthur Havisham been in?

I ain't seen him
since he left with you this morning.

- He hasn't been back?
- Not that I've seen.

Damn.

- Get me a brandy.
- Daisy, get the gentleman a brandy.

Do I know you, sir?

Don't believe so.

I'm normally quite good with faces.

People often mistake me
for someone else.

I have that kind of face.

What is this?

That is a most singular wallet.

My wallet? Who the hell are you?

I am Inspector Bucket of The Detective.

May I?

What's this about?

You'll note the studwork here

used to mark out the letter "M".

Your initial?

Yes. My full name, Meriwether.

And beside that,

traces of another letter.

Well, perhaps.

I bought it second-hand,
unpicked a few studs.

There's no crime in that
is there, Inspector?

That's still to be established.

The letter you removed,

it was a "J".

What of it?

- Jacob Marley.
- No.

Wait, I told you I bought it.

Might I ask where?

- Go, quick as you can.
- EDWARD: Honoria.

- Feeling any better?
- Uh, a little. You seem pleased.

Ah, I've just had
a rather excellent meeting

with a merchant.

An introduction from Sir Leicester.

Could prove very lucrative...

Police business, miss.

This wallet.

Do you recognise it?

I think so.

- It's been altered, but...
- Do you remember

the man who bought it?

I believe it was Mr Compeyson, sir.

A week ago.

A shilling, if I recall.

I'm to ask you two more questions.

You must answer both truthfully,
or face the consequences.

Do you understand, miss?

You bought this from someone?

Yes, sir.

Who?

Mr Fagin, sir.

(CHILDREN CHATTERING OUTSIDE)

Your lawyer came to see me.

Nothing personal, my dear.

As an innocent man,
incarcerated like this,

I felt in need of legal advice.

He was very eloquent.

Insisted you be released.

Today.

Now, I want you to know, Inspector,
that I bear you no ill will.

You were simply doing your job,
that's all. No hard feelings.

That's very gracious of you. Thank you.

There was something else?

Something else?

Oh, yes.

- Do you know what this is?
- Looks like a wallet.

Oh, it's more than that.

This wallet, it fits the description
of the one stolen from Jacob Marley

the night he was murdered.

You can see his initials.
There, you see?

"J. M."

Jacob Marley.

I don't quite follow you, my dear.
What's this got to do with me?

I have a witness
that says you sold it to them.

This will see you hanged.

Wait!

We have to do our merry dance,
Inspector, I know that.

But, we both know who we are,

and it's a very long time
since I stole a wallet, myself.

Silks and wallets are sold
to the Old Curiosity Shop

and I'll wager
that's where you'll find your witness.

They're all lifted, not by me,

but by my young associates
as well, you know.

And that particular wallet came
from the best of the lot of them.

Dodger.

JAGGERS: I'm not a bank, Arthur,

nor do I have access
to your sister's estate.

You are the company lawyer, are you not?

Why, then, can't you complete
the necessary paperwork

for an advance against earnings?

Because any such advance would need
the approval of the board, first.

It's my money.

Yes, when it is due to you. Not before.

Your salary will arrive in your bank

- every month, as usual.
- It's two weeks away.

I can speak to your sister if you...

Damn my sister.

Must she constantly
be an obstacle to me?

I am a Havisham, too.

- That must count for something.
- Yes, it does.

Gives you the privilege
of coming in here to berate me,

despite the fact
I can do nothing to assist you.

(DOOR OPENS)

Gentlemen.

I wasn't expecting you.

- Lf it's inconvenient...
- No, no, no, no.

Please, take a seat.

No need.

I come simply with news.

In fact, it's good you're both here.

Two names to check off my list
in a single visit.

- News?
- Yes.

I am to be married.

To Mr Compeyson.

With respect, Miss Havisham,
could you not have consulted me first?

Why?

JAGGERS: For counsel.

AMELIA: You do not approve?

JAGGERS: Well, I know nothing
of this Mr Compeyson's character,

- of his intentions.
- His intentions are to marry me.

Did I not make that clear? Arthur?

- Have you nothing to say?
- You can't.

Oh?

You don't know him.

I know him very well. Otherwise,
I wouldn't have accepted his proposal.

What your brother means is that
you've hardly known him long enough

to form an association
which would justify marriage.

I urge you to reconsider.

And I urge you
to remember your place, Mr Jaggers.

You are my lawyer
for as long as it pleases me.

Not my father and not my guardian.

Will no one be happy for me?

(SHUDDERS)

It seems there is only one man
in my life

who puts my happiness above all else.

I intend to reward that devotion,
that loyalty,

by marrying him.

ARTHUR: Have you lost your mind?

- COMPEYSON: Arthur.
- You told her that you'd marry her?

- You've seen her?
- Are you insane?

- Look, not here.
- Answer me!

Would you have everyone
know our business?

How could you do this?

She had found new confidence
after the shareholders' meeting.

We were losing her.

- I had to do something.
- So, you proposed?

Well, it worked, didn't it?

She's back at heel,
hanging on my every word.

But you're already married,
or have you forgotten?

And what if I wasn't?

What?

We're nearing
the end of the game, Arthur.

You must hold your nerve.

Only a few more weeks,
and we'll both get

exactly what we deserve.

Arthur. Arthur!

Night, miss.

Night, Martha.

(DOOR CHIME JINGLES)

FRANCES: Honoria?

I was just leaving.

- I'll be home soon.
- We can walk home together.

FRANCES: We had word from Sir Leicester
accepting your invitation to dinner.

I sent him a note.

- Are you ready?
- Hmm.

Honoria?

Honoria!

Please.

I'll fetch help.

(SIGHS) I'm sorry.

Lucky I was so close, eh?

I mean, getting a doctor
out this time of night

costs you an arm and a leg.

Whereas me, all I charge you
is the price of a couple of gins.

Or three or four.
Certainly no more than five.

Well, I'm very grateful.
I feel much better, thank you.

Healing hands, I got.

I mean with minor ailments
like colds and that,

I don't even have to touch you.
All I do is look at you.

- See 'em off.
- Yes, thank you, Mrs Gamp.

We'd better get you home.

- Can you walk?
- HONORIA: Of course, it's passed.

- I don't know what happened.
- Well, I do.

- I'm sorry?
- Plain as the nose on your face.

You're having a baby.

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)