Hetty Wainthropp Investigates (1996–1998): Season 2, Episode 4 - The Astral Plane - full transcript

I'm getting something.

It's not clear.

I think...

Yes, it's A.

Does the letter A
mean something to anyone here?

It's a man, I think,
trying to communicate.

Capital letter A.

Not very well-formed. Could it be
an H? A's sometimes look like H.

You're right.

It's H.

I've got it clear, now.



H. A definite H.

Harry. Someone dear to you?

My husband.
He passed over in January.

His handwriting
were never easy to read.

Harry?

Are you there, Harry?

Is there something
you want to say to this lady?

It's him. I know it is.
I can smell his pipe tobacco.

They're called house parties.

She calls up the dead for
small groups in her own front room.

£10 admission. It's unhealthy.

What do you want us to do?
Expose her. It's not illegal.

It ought to be.
Taking advantage of the bereaved.

That lady's poodle's lifting its leg.



I can't sell those. You've soiled
the goods. You'll have to take them.

It's all work, I suppose.
There's work and work, Geoffrey.

Though we've not had
much to do with the supernatural.

Mother goes twice a week.
The expense is horrendous. £20 it is.

And bus fares.
The parties are only a come-on.

Folk get hooked. Mother's having
consultations at £25 an hour.

She must be getting
some satisfaction.

We're not meant to get satisfaction
in this world!

We're meant to get through it
as best we can.

I've asked her to live with us,

but she says Dad talks to her
through a spirit guide

and tells her to stay where she is.

Why don't you go to a seance?

She says, "The spirits won't
speak to a hostile presence."

But if your dad IS talking to her...

We had him cremated. He couldn't
communicate through a spirit guide,

or anyone else.
Will you take the job, or not?

Forgive me for mentioning this.
I speak as I find.

Our fees aren't high,
despite my husband's advice,

but even so... I can afford a week.
It'll take longer.

Five days, as worked. Slot it in.

Now, I've work to do,
we'll be in touch.

Henry!

In the perennials, PDQ.
Stir your stumps.

Exposing fraud. A public service,
if ever there was one.

She just wants to get her hands on
her mother's nest egg.

But if this medium really is a fake,

I suppose it's true
she's taking advantage.

Eyes close.

Breathe.

In... out.

Deep breaths.

In... out.

Feel yourselves floating...

Eyes open.

Minds open.

Ready. Ready to receive.

No, no. Nasty, nasty, nasty!

Not now, Tiny.

Never at the beginning.
You're in the way.

Let the Red Indian gentleman
through.

Who's Tiny? A spirit guide?

- A little girl. She interrupts.
- Sh! No distractions, please.

Nasty. Jingle jangle.

Is it an astral presence, Tiny?

Something from a lower plane
frightening you?

Oh, I see.

Don't cry, my dear.
It won't hurt you.

What happened?
It was Tiny. She was frightened.

There's hostility
affecting reception.

I felt it at first,
but it's stronger.

Someone here wants to destroy
our work. Do you know the source?

Oh, yes, I know the source.
I know which one of you it is.

I can feel the bad vibrations
creating astral static.

I must ask you to go now, please.

The spirits won't speak to those
with closed ears.

Your money will be refunded.

Who was she?
She's never been before.

Neither have I. It's funny how
you can't help feeling guilty.

Mrs Rome looked right at me
and I thought,

"I must be giving out hostile
vibrations from my unconscious."

No, anyone can see
you're sympathetic.

You're one of us.
You've sustained a loss.

I'm surprised your husband didn't
make himself known. They usually do.

My Harry came straight through the
window in a cloud of purple tobacco.

'My husband never liked
putting himself forward.'

Try a private consultation.

It's expensive, but well worth it.

There's no competition. Just you,
the departed and the spirit guide.

What have you found out?

They're mother and daughter.
They've rented the house.

Ah. DCI Adams phoned.

He wants to see you. Tonight?!

Tomorrow. Drop in to the station.

That's a lovely hat. What about?

To try his wife's Dundee cake.
Oh, aye.

You look like Marlene Dietrich
in that hat. Don't be daft.

I never knew you were married.

If we're not, we don't get promoted.
Most of the marriages break up.

My wife has a job, so it's just
the kids who feel neglected.

Now, tell me, please, Mrs Wainthropp,

what's your interest in
Maurika Rome and her daughter, Sara?

I only went there yesterday for
the first time. Are you following me

Oh, I wouldn't dare.
No, I had someone of my own there.

A young woman?

She got thrown out.

And what's your interest
in Mrs Rome? You first.

A client thinks she's a fake.
I've said it's not illegal.

Technically, it is.
Fraudulent Mediums Act, 1951.

But as long as the medium
hears voices nobody else can hear,

sees what nobody else can see,

and the spirits use her voice,
you can't prove it.

What was your lady doing there?
More cake?

I can't be bribed.

My detective sergeant was rumbled,

but you were not.
How did you explain your presence?

Said I'd read their advert
in the Psychic Herald.

Said my husband had passed away.
Robert?! Has he?

He'll outlive us all
if he's not prevented

I went in disguise
under a flag of convenience.

Mrs Lola Hattersley, wealthy widow,
without dependents. Totally without?

I haven't gone into details. They
come at the private consultation.

Will you be having one?
I'll consult my client.

I'm not sure she'll want to pay.

I have a small fund which might cover it. Then
what's the problem? Let's go for a little drive.

His diary.

When my father retired, he and my
mother went to live at Grange-over-Sands.

She died suddenly, 18 months ago.

He... only recently.

This was his diary.

He took her death very hard...
and...

Started going to group seances
at a private house. Mrs Rome.

She'd rented a place for the winter.

Group, then private meetings.

It's all in here.

What he writes
is what he believes she told him.

My mother, told him through
some spirit guide. Which was?

Terrible things.

Lies.

We have to believe they were.

Before marrying,
my mother was a psychiatric nurse.

What she is said to have told him

is terrible things.

Done to patients.

Ill-treatment.
You could call it sadism.

By your mother?
When he himself died,

all his savings were gone. For nearly a year he'd
been taking large sums out of the bank in cash.

So, he has these
private consultations.

His dead wife tells him about the dreadful
things she's done and he believes her.

And then he pays up
to keep it quiet.

Wait a minute.

The medium's in a trance. She's not
supposed to know what happens.

Mrs Rome tape-records
the private consultations

so that her clients can have
a record. It'd only need one tape.

Blackmail?
And no way of proving it.

A special consultation! £25?!

And bus fares. Why?
You want to expose her?

What about the evening do's?
You'd have witnesses.

She won't give herself away.
Anyone hostile affects the vibration

and gets thrown out.
She doesn't do anything.

The spirits do it. She just passes on what they
say and the people tell her if it has any meaning.

So, if a mistake's made, wrong age,
wrong colour hair, wrong sex,

any sort of error,
it's not her, d'you see?

The spirits got it muddled,
or bad reception.

What do you expect to get
from a private consultation?

In private she might just take
one step too far.

£25?!

A place like this,
you've no idea of the wastage.

One step too far.
How do we lay the bait?

We shall put together the life story
of Mrs Lola Hattersley,

and I shall learn it by heart.

Mrs Hattersley.

Good afternoon. Come in.
Thank you, Sara.

Your coat? Thank you.

You're a friend of Mrs Todd,
I believe?

Both having lost a loved one
recently, it brings you together.

A loved one. That would be...?

My husband, Mr Hattersley.

MR Hattersley?
You don't use his first name?

He may do so if he makes himself
known. That's up to him. I see.

Thank you.

You'll excuse me, but we have
to get one thing straight.

I'm a channel of communication.
I can't guarantee success.

If he doesn't wish to talk,
there's nothing we can do.

Oh, but he must want to, he must.
He's always looked after me.

He's left me all this money,
the house, the business.

He went so sudden,

I don't know what to do.

Take the crystal in both hands.

Hold it.

Feel the warmth.

Look deep into it.

Deep. Yes.

Such secrets there.

Put it back, please.

I'm going to study your aura.
Close your eyes.

What's an aura?
The astral part of you.

Everybody has one. It's just light.

A mist of light.

Like you see round a streetlamp.

Yours is purple.
That's the colour of grief.

I'd never have known. Open.

Grace Todd said something about
a tape recording.

I was about to ask. It's extra,
but many clients like a record.

I don't mind about the extra.
It's the least of my worries.

I see... an old man.

Rocking...
Mr Hattersley wasn't old.

He was cut down in his prime.
Rocking in his chair.

There's a chamber pot by the side
of it. Rocking? A chamber pot?

I didn't come here
to play silly games.

Put me onto my husband
as quick as you can.

Good gracious me! I remember.

You know the old man? My granddad.

He had sciatica. He had to rock to
get out of his chair. And the pot?

He used it as a spittoon. He's your
spirit guardian. He watches you.

I don't know why. I never liked him.

Why are you following me? Eh?
You heard.

I wasn't.
Don't lie, you're no good at it.

Well, if I was... You were.

I... I fancied you.

I suppose.

No, that's it.

I saw you, I fancied you, I followed
you. End of story. It's as old as time.

Most stories are.

F. F? Florence...

Florry... Flora?

Aunt Florry lived at Bamber Bridge.
Her husband worked on the railway

in a supervisory capacity.

I never had much to say to them and I can't
think the spirit world will make a difference.

Now, may I talk to my husband,
please?

I told you, my dear,
I can't command the spirits.

The ones who come are the ones
with something to communicate.

F.

I don't think it's your auntie,

but nothing's clear.

I can feel impatience
hindering the flow.

F.

I have the feeling... A child.

Is there some buried unhappiness
in your mind connected with a child?

Mr Hattersley and I
never had children. We married late.

He did have a lady friend
before our marriage,

but we don't speak of her.

And what was the name
of this friend?

Fiona.

Fiona Freeman.

Why aren't you at work? I'm unemployed.
That's why I wander about, killing time.

If you're unemployed,
how come you're buying?

Some careless person
left his car unlocked.

You're beginning to grow on me.

I've been wondering
what you're like in bed.

I've had no complaints.
Maybe you've had no opportunities.

I don't know how to reply to that.

I was trying
to knock you off balance.

In my job you learn about people from
their reactions. You're no Jack-the-lad.

So why were you really following me?

I followed you because...
anyone can dream.

And has your husband's lady friend,
Fiona, passed over, do you know?

They lost touch. She went south,
to Dunstable, for her health.

He never heard from her again.
Her health? Yes.

To have an abortion,
or to have the baby.

Oh! Whoever it is, she's extremely
anxious to communicate.

If it's Miss Freeman, please inform her that
I do not wish to receive any communications

she may be trying to make. I want to
speak to my husband, and only my husband.

There's £250,000 tied up

at an extremely low interest rate,

and I need better advice
than I'm getting from the bank.

Just the same,
my dear husband never appeared.

Of course I didn't. I'm not dead yet.

You've not had a lady friend called
Fiona, either, as far as I know.

I never realised my potentialities.

I might have fancied a Fiona
if fate had thrown one my way.

It was funny about your granddad,
though.

It was. Rocking in his chair,

a chamber pot to spit in
for his bronchitis.

MY granddad, not Lola's.
She couldn't have known.

She could be genuine. A lot of
old men had sciatica in his day,

and bronchitis.

Keeping an eye on me
from the astral plane, she said.

Why not, if he enjoys it?
The important thing is,

genuine or not, she's taken the
bait. "The bleating of the goat..."

"..excites the tiger."
Some goat.

A wealthy goat without children.

And her husband's ex-lady friend trying to tell
me about a little girl. That's interesting.

Did you get the tape recording? Next session.
She wants a copy for her own records.

That's how she blackmailed
the vicar's dad.

It isn't blackmail this time.
Maybe not,

but I expect that little girl
will turn out to be in need.

She's not thought it through.

Hetty never does think it through.

Little grey cells? Rubbish.
It's instinct with her.

I've not thought it through.
Unlike you.

All I was going to do was
go to a couple of seances,

get a message from my dead husband and expose her,
because Robert's not dead and I'm not Mrs Hattersley.

She'd have
wriggled out of that somehow.

But it might have been
enough for Grace Todd.

And now? Well,
there's this blackmail business.

I've laid a bait and she's taken it.

But Mrs Hattersley needs more than
a made-up story.

Where does she live?
What's her phone number?

I can find you a house
and an answerphone. Good.

And, er, Mrs Hattersley
will need a chequebook.

I wanted to have a talk,
man to man, you know.

It's not the facts of life, is it?

I had to do them with our Derek.

I got rather muddled. It's not
the facts of life. Not exactly.

It's more... the way we live.

You, me and Mrs Wainthropp.

There's not the opportunity to...

If I was to meet someone,
a girl, say...

Oh! You're right.
It's quiet here, for you,

living with us. I'm not complaining.

I don't mean the detective agency. Witches,
the Mafia. They're not always welcome,

but they make a change. What I
mean is, you're a teenager. I am.

You've got urges. I have.
It's a problem. It is.

Hetty doesn't always
understand men's feelings.

She gets proprietorial.

It's a family. I like that.

I haven't had a family
for a long time.

I'm grateful. As you say, the work,
it stretches me, it's a challenge.

Only... Only, you ought to get out
on your own. Every lad should.

I'll have a word with her.

You don't have a job?
I work for my mother.

And your dad? The women
manage things in my family.

Is it a good trade? It's a calling.
You have to have the gift.

As for money, we don't charge much.

A lot of the clients are pensioners.

Shall we sit down for a bit?

Have you got the... gift?

Yeah, I think so.

You can put your arm
round me, if you like.

Try to enjoy it.

Don't you have a regular boyfriend?

I might go with someone for a bit,

but nobody claims me. Besides,
we're only here for the winter.

What about the summer? Seaside.

I thought we might go to a club.

Have you found
another unlocked car?

I wouldn't ask
if I couldn't afford it.

Shall I kiss you?

I might enjoy it.

Not bad. You'll get better
if you practise. Let's practise.

Come on.

Would you do something for me,
Geoff? Ask.

There's one of our clients, a widow, Mrs
Lola Hattersley. I'll give you the address.

What about her?
She doesn't feel right.

Usually when folk come to us it's loneliness,
with her it's all to do with money.

What do you want me to do?
Find out all you can.

She could get hurt
if she's got the wrong motives.

You what?! In the course of making
general enquiries in the area...

No flannel, Geoffrey... I came
to meet the subject's daughter.

And never told us?

You spoke?

He told me he'd made
the acquaintance of a young lady.

He didn't say who. I was going
to talk to you about it.

How DARE you keep secrets from me?

You've had one go at solving cases
on your own and it came to no good,

and now you want to take over.
It's nothing to do with that!

My feelings for the girl
are private, Mrs Wainthropp.

They have nothing
to do with the agency.

Until now.
Maybe they have now.

You've got to see it
from their point of view.

Got to?! Give the lad a chance!
Let him explain.

Explain. There's your granddad
and your Aunt Florry.

She didn't know you because you
were pretending to be someone else,

but she got those right.
And my dear, dead husband,

and his lady friend who wants to tell
me about a child. She didn't say that.

Oh! Am I losing my mind?

Are you telling me what she said
when you weren't even there?

Sorry, but from what you've said...
God, give me patience!

I hope he will. She said there was a
message about a child and the letter F.

She never spoke to Mr Hattersley,

and you told her about Fiona.

I suppose, strictly speaking,
that could be true.

Why does she want Geoffrey
to investigate me?

She thinks you're obsessed
by money and you may be at risk.

ME at risk?! I'll tell you who's at
risk. I'll tell you who's obsessed.

And it's not with money,
it's with sex.

I'm not speaking to anybody.
Might be the DCI.

Wainthropp Detective Agency?

Who?

Derek!

It's the baby. Something's happened.
It must be 4am where you are.

Is anything wrong?

Yes, she's here now. They've had a
little girl. A week early. She's OK.

Hello?

Good news?
They've had a little girl.

They had a miscarriage before so they thought
they might lose it. But she's all right.

Felicity.
Oh, yes, it's a lovely name.

Most appropriate.

Felicity.

F?! A child!

I'm giving up the case.
Give us a minute.

She's not a fake. There's too much
she's got right. My granddad,

and my Aunt Florry. Take your time.

It's this F.
She's just been born.

In Dunstable? In Sydney. She's me own
granddaughter. Mrs Rome couldn't have known that.

Maybe what she told that vicar's
dad was true and his wife did that.

That's not the point.
Whether she's fake or not,

whether the vicar's wife ill-treated
patients, blackmail is blackmail,

and you're after a blackmailer.
So tell me,

what is Geoffrey going to say
to the girl?

'Mrs Lola Hattersley lives alone
in the select area of Darwin.

'She and her husband
were a rich, respected couple.

'Old-fashioned views.
Pro-hanging, anti-abortion.

'And she was
utterly dependent on him.

'She has no close relatives.
Nobody comes to see her.

'The telephone's ex-directory,

'but he got the number
from the cleaning lady.

'And I tell you now,
it won't come to anything.

'We're wasting our time.'

'Mrs Lola Hattersley is not
available to take your call.

'Please leave a message
after the tone.'

Hello, this is Wendy Freeman,
from Dunstable.

I'm sorry to bother you,
but it is urgent.

She says she's in the area staying
with friends. She'll phone at 4pm.

Then Mrs Hattersley
had better be there.

I'll pack a bag and move in,
pronto. Goodbye.

Phone a taxi, will you, love?

We won't get Mrs Hattersley
on the scooter.

Do you want me to come?
She has no children. Shall I come?

Her husband's dead.

I doubt there's any food. I'd
better take some bits and pieces.

Danny's arrived.

Three minutes to go.

Doesn't time fly
when you're having fun

Mrs Lola Hattersley speaking.

Wainthropp Detective Agency?

Right.

Right. Understood.

I know you wouldn't want me
to have an abortion.

Would you like some coffee? I have the Georgian
silver coffee service and a plate of petits fours.

It'll be
your husband's grandchild.

The milk IS boiled.
Are we getting through to you?

Oh, yes. This young lady says she's
my husband's illegitimate daughter,

by the late Fiona Freeman,

and she's about to have a child
which she does not wish to abort.

My mother refused to have
an abortion and so do I.

There's plenty of single mothers.

She didn't ask your husband for
a penny. She brought me up herself.

I only discovered who I was
after she died.

And am I right in thinking,
my dear, that unlike your mother,

you ARE about to ask for money? She
shouldn't have to. You should offer.

I want to start a new life
in Canada, with the baby.

Oh, how much would it cost?

Well, with the air fare
and getting on my feet, 3,000.

I've booked the ticket. Put down
a deposit. You wouldn't see me again

Oh, dear. Oh.

Oh, this is really most disturbing.
Three thousand... pounds?

My husband never mentioned...

He... He never even spoke of Miss Freeman
after our marriage. There's no proof.

There is proof. How else
could I know so much about you?

Well, I have no responsibility.
£3,000?!

You must know who the father is.

You don't have to go to Canada.
He can be made to pay.

He's married.
Like your husband was.

Mr Hattersley and I were not married
when your mother went south for her health.

Makes it worse.

I don't think you understand. My cousin
wants to bear your late husband's grandchild

and make a new life.
You should be happy to help.

If you won't she'll have to get
what she can, where she can.

Meaning? Sell her story
to the Sunday papers.

"History Repeats Itself"
kind of thing.

But that's blackmail.

No. Blackmailers keep coming back.

This is a one-off.
You'll never hear from her again.

£3,000! I haven't that much money
in the house. Write a cheque.

Pay cash to bearer. Phone the bank.
I'll get the money and come back.

Very well.

I shall need a receipt.

She's making out the cheque.

Money has to pass,
then they can take 'em in.

You won't be serving coffee.

If you don't mind, Mr Wainthropp,
there's something I have to do. Eh?

When you've signed...
And here's the cheque.

Before your cousin
collects the money,

there's someone
I'd like you both to meet.

This is my husband,
come back from the astral plane.

Robert, this is your daughter by the late
Fiona Freeman, who never actually existed,

except in my imagination.

Er... Mrs Rome? Gone.

Where? Who knows? Done a bunk?

I've come for the rent.

They said they'd stay till summer,
but they've terminated early.

Where does a Romany woman
go in summer?

Seaside. Fortune-telling.

Everybody knows that.
You've been very helpful.

Wait!

You going looking for her,
all the way on that thing?

If I have to. Eaton-under-Cliff.

The pleasure beach.

Just tell me how I'm supposed to have conned
money out of a woman who doesn't even exist?

If there never was
a Mrs Lola Hattersley...

..that cheque's a fraud for a start.

We can't make it stick.
That's not the point.

Blackmail cases never stick.

We want to warn them off, and by a little judicious
harassment, get them out of the Northwest.

He never said where he was going?

Thank you.

Maybe he's phoned.
We should have an answermachine.

We have. It's me. Oh, it's ringing.

Oh, it's stopped. How could you
let him go off like that?

Come to have your fortune told?

I've come to warn you. No need.
They had to let her go. Wendy?

My sister, Katya.
Romanies aren't called Wendy.

How did you find me? I worked it
out. Why do you blackmail people?

Nobody blackmailed Mrs Hattersley.

There's no such person. You lied.

The old man at Grange-over-Sands?
Been doing your homework?

There was no blackmail there, either.

He paid to keep quiet what his wife had
done, when we'd have kept quiet anyway.

So... it didn't mean anything,
then... you and me.

A kiss and a cuddle.
What's that mean? Something.

A lot. You'd better go.

I'm sorry.

You've wasted your time.

Anyone can dream.

The trouble with Amy,
she knows nowt about feelings.

Exposing Mrs Rome wouldn't have done
no good. I knew she was a fake.

I'd have told you,
but I thought you believed.

She got some things right.

But she was taking advantage.

I tumbled to her quickly. I'll tell
you why - that spirit guide of hers.

A shaman of the Attahashi tribe.
Chief Wet Blanket, or some such.

My Harry wouldn't discuss
his problems with a Red Indian.

And he kept saying
everything was perfect.

That's not Harry. He'd find faulty
workmanship in the gates of paradise.

Why did you keep going back?

It were the only place
I could talk about Harry non-stop.

It were worth £25 an hour.

Amy wants you to live with them.
Another reason it was worth it.

I tell her,
"Harry says I must be independent."

I put the bolster down the middle
of the bed and sleep beside it

with one arm over,
pretending it's him.

Well, Amy wouldn't allow that.

He's back.

I'll go.

I went to warn her.

She knew already,
as a matter of fact.

You can have my resignation,
if you want.

I'll go upstairs and pack.

Your supper'll be ready
in 20 minutes.

You'd better have a wash.

And there'll be work to do
in the morning.

Getting our fee out of Amy Todd.

You're right, Mrs Wainthropp.

You're right.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd