Lark Rise to Candleford (2008–2011): Season 3, Episode 1 - Episode #3.1 - full transcript

'Hamlet folk often said that
poverty was not a curse...'

'..but an inconvenience.'

'They seemed to know that lost
art of being happy on little.

'Strange as it seems,

'the threat to such happiness can
come not when things get worse...

'..but when good fortune
promises to make life better.'

Pa!

How long have you been
there looking on at me?

All your life, my girl.

You know, ever since you could
make words, you've been writing

what you see in a journal, our Laura.



I never asked you, why do you do it?

It all goes by so fast.

This life deserves to be remembered.

You know, we mustn't fear change, Laura.

But neither must we
be at the mercy of it.

If you want to slow the world down,

just live for today.

Are you writing down my words of wisdom?

No. I am recording how my pa ate
his potato on Candleford main street.

BOTH LAUGH

Minnie, have you polished
all of the glasses

in my private quarters
as I asked you to?

I surely have, mum. All of them nearly.

Most of them. Some.



Minnie, is this the truth?

Ma'am, you have caught me out in
a little fib. I in't polished none.

And might I ask, what is the
difference between a fib and a lie?

Is a fib nearly the truth, mum?

As I far as I can see,
Minnie, there IS no difference.

DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS

They say whatever you might be in need of
in a small town, head for the post office.

Is it a telegram, or a postal
order or perhaps stamps?

It is information I am after.

I'm trying to trace someone hereabouts.

I'm journalist from the
Oxford Post. Journalist?

A real writer?

Daniel Parish. I already know
I've come to the right place.

Who are you attempting to trace?

We know everyone from
Ingleston to Banbury.

The family name is Dibber.
Why, that's my ma's name!

She's Timmins now
since she married my pa.

Why do you ask?

That is something I wish to tell her
myself. Does she live in Candleford?

Heavens, no.

Lark Rise, which is nearby.

You could take the second delivery to
Lark Rise and escort this young gentleman.

I would like that very much.

Laura.

Mum, what is a journalist?

These days, Minnie,
a journalist is a man

who turns a story into a sensation.

Sally Dibber. Why, yes. My Aunt Sally.

She went to live in Australia
when I was no more'n a girl.

I lost touch with her, years ago now.

Mrs Dibber died...childless.

My paper publishes the names of people

who have been left Money in Chancery.

Your name, Emma Dibber, is on that list.

Oh, Lordy. What does it mean?

It means you are to inherit.

We never know at this
stage the exact amount left

in Chancery, but it is, I
believe, quite substantial.

Inherit?! Money? Lordy!

Sir... Daniel, please.

Daniel...

You can see our surprise at this news
and we are grateful for the possibility,

but in't it the case
that Money in Chancery

most often remains out
of reach of the claimants?

I have pursued five cases
now, and if you can produce

documentary evidence of your
identity, then the legacy is yours.

Can you? Papers!

Yes.

Daniel, forgive my caution,

but why have you come all
this way to tell us this?

That is simple.

Your good fortune is a wonderful
story that I shall write and publish.

Our readers like nothing better
than a true tale of rags to riches.

So, what must we do now?

Appoint a solicitor,

stake your claim and then make
some plans for your new life.

How did you become a writer?

What I mean to say is,

how does someone become a journalist?

Now, let me guess...

You write?

Only a journal.

Observations of my
neighbours and the like.

Don't apologise, Laura.

Never apologise for what you write.

Hey, Laura! Old Monday sent me home.

No wages for me today.

In't I glad I put that shilling by.

Twister! I'm tired of
living off bread and lard,

you slack, twisted old critter!

A man can't do no farm labour when he
suffers from the chronic rheumatism.

SHE SCOFFS Chronic, mind!

My poor knee bones in't
known no peace in 20 year.

My pa calls Lark Rise the place
God made with the leftovers

when he was done making
the rest of the Earth.

It must be quite a contrast for
you, Laura, living in Candleford.

Candleford folk do turn their noses up.

But Lark Risers love nothing better

than to knock them off their pedestal.

They once fell out over
the cost of a telegram.

It's perfect.

The price, madam, reflects the
quality of the cut and the stitch.

Those of us who are brave
enough to walk out into the worid

in off-the-peg shoddiness can,
of course, pay off-the-peg prices.

SHE SIGHS

Pearl, I do wonder if we are
wise to antagonize the customers

because we cannot
adapt to modern trends.

Nonsense, Ruby. Standards endure.

Why should we stoop to hawking
mass-produced sackcloth?

You're right, of course. We are not
sales girls, we are seamstresses.

I do love to sew.

Ruby, why on earth have you kept this?

I- I-I was rather
amused by this.

This. It's a...shower-bath.

It sprays water, like a waterfall,

apparently, and one
washes oneself under it.

Oh, how delightful.

Margaret.

Every night, Thomas is possessed
of the idea that we must endeavour.

He wakes, he wakes me.

We must endeavour together.

Every night?

Sometimes eight or
nine times in a night.

He can't seem to help himself.

Goodness!

That is beyond the call of duty.

Thomas feels that we
cannot have too much prayer.

Oh! Prayer.

Oh, I see.

With so much prayer, I wonder there
is time for the real endeavour.

Mum, if I tell you something I think is
the truth, but you know it in't the truth,

because everyone knows
you know everything,

and you tell me so,
is that a lie or a fib?

Minnie, if we are going to dabble
in the realms of moral philosophy,

at least make my morning tea first, hm?

What you describe is a mistake.

Sydney is such a well-behaved boy.

In his studies he is most studious.

I have never known
such a dedicated pupil.

That is my problem, Margaret.

After all these months, Little
Man still seems intent on

behaving as if he must
earn his place amongst us.

Miss Lane, I happened to be
passing and I was wondering,

has a missive arrived for
me, post-marked Pontefract?

I'm afraid we no more have
a Pontefract epistle today

than we did yesterday, Miss
Pratt. Or the day before.

Tomorrow, I am certain.

Mum, if the grocer gives you a penny
too much in change and you keep it,

is that a lie or a fib or a mistake?

That, Minnie, is thieving.

Mmm.

I usually find, child, to
avoid painful entanglements,

the best approach is to keep it simple.

Just tell the truth at all times.

I surely will, mum.

Where is my tea? It's nearly read...

I in't even put the kettle on.

Oh, Minnie, how many
times have I told...?

Oh, well done!

Ma'am, my ma and pa are to inherit!

Money in Chancery. Quite a sum.

How wonderful!

And is this the news our young
journalist friend brought?

Yes. Daniel is going to
help them stake their claim.

We are a marching band.
Therefore, we make marching music.

After four. One, two, three...

Thomas Brown,

you are a puzzlement.

What are you bringing your Candleford
trumping music over here for?

A man must pass on what he has to give.

And though I may be a humble postman,

I am here to teach these
children of the poor

the values of discipline and
diligence and duty and endurance

and a life given meaning through
worship, a life of divine direction.

That's a lot for a boy to
learn from banging a drum.

Evening. I wonder if I
might trouble to ask you

what you make of your
neighbours' good fortune.

You'll be him who brought
the news, are you, with Laura?

Daniel Parish, Oxford Post.

Marvelous, is what it is.

At least it's happened
to a deserving family.

And generous.

They're sharing kind of folk, that's
what's most likeable about them.

Do you suppose it might change them?

It might change their trousers.

Change their tablecloth. But folk
don't change from who they are.

Lark Rise to the bone.

Kindly to the bone, an' all.

Like neighbours hallways
have been around here.

Folks stays true to where they belongs.

From the beginning. After
four. One, two, three...

My dear, shall we endeavour?

Lord Jesus...

I reckon this is the biggest
and best day Lark Rise ever saw.

I thought perhaps you could ride in
a carriage to meet your solicitor.

Enjoy a taste of what life is to bring.

That is very considerate of you, sir.

I can help you in your negotiations.

I have no fear of speaking
with men of office, sir.

But I only meant that I have
experience in these cases.

But let's be truthful.

I do wish to witness your
encounter for my story.

We can't object, Robert.

All of this is happening to
us because of this gentleman.

I feel so strangely strange.

Like you do before your first child.

Of course you do, my dear.

Your whole life is about to change!

I hope you don't mind. It's just
it's such a long way to Banbury,

I took the liberty of inviting
the solicitor to meet with us

at the Golden Lion
Hotel... in Candleford.

Walk on.

Pontef... Pontef...

Minnie, what are you doing?

I am idling, mum, and nosing
where I in't no business to nose.

Good girl.

Laura, your hair don't suit
your face. It's only the truth.

That, Minnie, is merely an opinion.

You do look smart today, Sydney.

But then, you do look smart every day.

Wouldn't you like to
go out into the street

to rough and tumble
with the other children?

No, Miss Lane.

An Australian aunt. Who'd
have imagined? Quite a sum.

It does make one believe that
fortune favors the philanthropic.

Robert Timmins is truly a communitarian.

Ruby, why are you so
unnecessarily buoyant?!

But...is there anything
to be un...buoyant about?

You do seem rather severe
of mind today, Pearl.

Are your blisters chaffing again?

Is your headache aching? Yes.

My blisters are chaffing.

My headache is aching.

Miss Ruby! Pontefra...!

Ruby, I must venture over to
the post office for a minute.

My sister must know
nothing of Pontefract.

Can I trust you with
this knowledge, Minnie?

- I am bursting to tell someone.
- What is it, ma'am?

It is romance, Minnie.

I happened to see a notice in The Times.

"A man of honour and
sentiment whose noble spirit

"might encourage a woman to choose
him for her protector and guardian.

"Such a rare lady of character
may wish to correspond."

So...I don't know what came over me.

I wrote to him. Oh, Minnie,
he's such a handsome pen smith.

And rich, too, I expect, with
a name like that. Mr Pensmith.

Mm... We've been communicating
for six weeks now, and...

I think it might be true love.

But wouldn't your sister be
glad to hear of true love, ma'am?

She might not understand.

She might think it sordid of
me to answer an advertisement.

I simply wish to establish
the relationship further

before I tell her.

SIGHS AND LAUGHS

It is a matter of
convenience. I would prefer

to collect any
correspondence from suppliers.

If my sister gets her hands on bills, she
mislays them and then they may go unpaid.

I understand.

It's my ma and pa.

In a carriage!

Here comes that Miss Ellison,
no doubt to wail at our table.

There'll be some turmoil or other for
her to witter on about for hour upon hour.

It's too late to slip out now!

Mrs Turrell.

Would you like a sup of
tea, Miss Ellison? Er, Mrs...

Margaret... Mrs Brown. Thank you.

I merely called to see how you are.

Oh, no, that is not true. I
came in search of something.

Oh, what's to search for here?

Advice. Thomas Brown and
I are... endeavoring,

without success.

What I wish to know is,
perhaps there is something

we are doing or are not doing
or that we are doing incorrectly.

I had no mother.

My dear.

Nature herself tells
us all we need to know

in them quarters.

But what I can give you

is a remedy or two.

Oh, but Thomas does so object
to - forgive me - superstitions.

Well, then don't tell him.

Three remedies for your problem.

First, place a skillet under the bed.

Second, steal coins from your
husband's pocket at bedtime.

Third, go out at night

and collect goat weed...

..naked.

Thomas, did you ever think
that God makes mistakes?

God? Mistakes?

Minnie, that is blasphemy!

But if God gives babies to girls
with no husbands and no money

and no wish for a sprig, and you
and Mrs Brown want a child so much...

Minnie, hush your tongue, girl.
It's only the truth, mum, in't it?

It seems to be genuine enough.

It appears the money
is ours for the asking.

£120.

That is such a lot of money.

Enough to buy a home.

Here in Candleford.

Us?

Live here in Candleford?

Why not? Lark Rise folk can
settle here if they can afford it.

Isn't that so, Miss Lane?

Emma and Robert will
live where they choose to.

It is certainly not for me to say.

They know best what suits them.

What happens now?

We wait.

Legal process. We have provided
the documents they've asked for.

It could take days,
it could take months.

On the count of four. One,
two, three, four, one, two.

They're back!

Queenie, I have so much to tell you.

The inheritance, it's true.

Your face is glad
enough to start a fire.

And, Queenie, we're thinking of
taking a cottage in Candleford.

Who would have thought?!

It's the excitement talking, Queenie.

Let her dream for today.

Quite a thing, Mr Brown,
your taking on the salvation

of these children's souls.

It is, sir, a calling.

In Oxford, the salvation bands
march to raise charitable donations.

Charity, sir, purifies a man.

You could march to Candleford.

Up the main street there,
make an event of it.

Well...

To lead these pilgrims
in an orderly process

before the good folk of
Candleford. I am inspired!

I wanted to thank you.

My ma and pa are so delighted.

£120. It's like...I don't know.

A wish.

But that's not why you came to
look for me, though, is it, Laura?

You meet another writer, you
want to talk, ask 100 questions.

Sit with me. Please.

Have a drink. Ask me anything.

How do you know if you
really are a writer?

Would you write even if you knew

no-one would ever see it...
just to let it pour out of you?

Yes.

I suspect you are more of
a writer than I am, Laura.

How could that be?

I could be any kind of a
writer but I am a journalist.

What I write today is there
for people to read tomorrow.

That's the worid we live
in now. I want to keep up.

I am the youngest writer on our paper.

I learn quickly.

I know how to get
people to tell me things.

I smile...

They like me.

They tell me things they shouldn't.

You see what you do to me, Laura?

I never talk like this.

I have let you see right inside of me.

But I suppose I can be
like this with you because

we are writers. We have...

A bond.

Understanding.

You came here because you
want to show me your writing.

It's only scribbled nothings
about our small worid.

Don't belittle what you do, Laura.

It matters.

You can admit it to me.

You must want to know
if you can really write.

Well... I...

You could help me.

Your journal would provide
such insights into this place,

with these people.

There comes a time in
every writer's life, Laura,

where you have to be brave, dare.

Can you do that?

Show me your writing.

Give me your journal.

My dear, shall we endeavour?

The children are still sound.

We could go back to bed.

You're a temptress.

But a working man has
responsibilities...

Towards his employer.

One day of casting aside obligation.

You don't believe, do you?

I saw the papers. I saw the
look on the solicitor's face.

It's the believing that's
kept me up the night long.

You fight this because
it is my money, don't you?

Your money?

Did I hear my own wife say
such a thing? All these years,

I've been setting out before
dawn to bring home OUR money.

I didn't mean...

Yes, all these years, you have
been the provider. We depend on you.

And now it is changing
and you don't like it.

You dare to say such a thing
to a man in his own home,

as though all I have struggled
to provide is not enough.

Can you not hear what
I am trying to say?

I hear you well enough.

Your money. Woman, you do
with your money as you wish.

Robert, please, listen.

If you brought this money home,
you would not torture yourself

with the idea that we
can have a new life.

Now I am asking you,

let it be the same, no matter
where the money's coming from.

How many times have I heard you say,
"If we could get out of Lark Rise?"

Now is our chance.

My husband is the best
stonemason for miles around.

Everyone knows that.

Your own yard. You could do
the kind of work you love.

Not mending walls just
to earn a shilling.

Wouldn't you like that?

Yes. I would.

If our good fortune
can give that to you,

can you not see how that makes me feel?

Come on,

let's go back to bed.

I can be late for work
for once in my life.

Let no man say that Robert
Timmins is not a man of compromise.

"I looked down at the hamlet,

"the chimney pots, the shroud of mist,

"the fresh green moss,
the glistening ivy,

"the reddish twigs with
their sparkling drops.

"It all seemed to have
been made for me alone.

"It delighted me.

"I felt suddenly uplifted. My
troubles didn't trouble me any more.

"This and a thousand other small,
lovely sights would remain...

"..and people would come
suddenly upon them and look

"and be glad."

I was right.

You are more of a writer
than I could ever hope to be.

No!

You are the writer.

I am a post girl

in a left-behind place.

There's your ma.

I was wondering if our
letter might have arrived.

Ma, the solicitor said
it could be months.

I know he did, but I can't
stop myself from hoping.

Your pa wants to move to Candleford.

It all looks so different somehow.

So many shops.

I never allowed myself to
look at them properly before.

Oh, and look at that.

I in't never seen a sale
at The Stores before.

Why not go in and try on a dress?

The Stores in't for the likes of me.

If you are to live here, then you
have as much right as the next person.

Isn't that so, Miss Lane? Indeed.

Only dresses I ever wore I made myself.

Come on, Emma. If nothing
else, we can relish

the shivers of shock running down
the spines of the Misses Pratt.

Ah! Miss Pearl. Miss Ruby.

We were tempted by
your wonderful offers.

As a valued customer, Miss Lane,
we will of course steer you towards

our most audacious bargains.

It is my cousin Emma who
would like to try something on.

Oh... Perhaps the green, Emma? I don't
think I have ever seen you in chartreuse.

But look at how much it costs.
You can afford it. Go on.

Don't you want to see
yourself in such a dress?

Shouldn't my ma wait until
the Chancery money arrives?

Yes, and our sale will be
over by then, I'm certain.

I'm sure, as Mrs Timmins may soon be your
neighbour, perhaps a regular customer,

you would not wish to miss this moment
to introduce her to your services.

Our services are of course available
to any customer who can afford them.

Mrs Timmins,

my newspaper will advance
the price of the dress

if you would like to try it.

Must we move to Candleford, Pa?

We'll have Laura living
on the same street.

You'll like that.

Rich or poor, Lark Rise
or Candleford, we are us.

We are Timmins.

And no-one can take that away...

Good God!

Don't you like it?

You look magnificent, woman.

There was a sale on in The Stores.

A sale on at The Stores is still
beyond a stonemason's wages.

The newspaper are paying...
till we get our money.

I wanted to say no, we'd wait.

But I pictured you looking at me.

I couldn't resist.

And now it's my turn to
try and resist, is it?

Em, if this is what Candleford
does for you, then...

..I'm all for it.

Dare to be Daniel. The locals used
to sing that when I was a girl.

Dare to be a Daniel. Dare to stand
alone. Dare to have a purpose firm.

Dare to make it known.

Yes.

I do know of that song.

Do you have a purpose, Daniel?

And is your purpose known?

Miss Lane, I see you are suspicious.

I prefer "curious".

My only purpose is to help
the Timmins stake their claim.

And to write your story.

What harm can there be in this?

Harm can come dressed up
as all manner of kindnesses.

How old are you, Mr Parish?

I am 21. Why should that
be of interest to you?

Emma's dress, the march
to Candleford, and now...

For one so young, you
are quite an orchestrator.

Why do you do your job?

I want to make something of myself. What's
so wrong with that? No. What I mean is,

why do you want to do this kind of work?

Well, I find people...lives interesting.

There seems to be an attitude
abroad of seeking out conflict.

Relishing it. To feed
the worst in human nature.

I am often accused of being sentimental.

It's true. I cannot deny it.

I just find it so much more
interesting to seek out forgiveness

and acceptance and those so
easily mocked values such as

generosity and loyalty and love.

The Timminses love one another
in ways that cannot be captured

by any old writer of articles.

Let me ask you.

Why do you do what you do?

I know it is considered old-fashioned
in these oh so modern times,

but I love my community.

But just so long as it's all in order...

The poor man at his gate...

Is that what you believe?

We shall see.

Write about love, Mr Parish.

Is that possible?

I dare you.

On the count of four. One, two, three...

Thomas Brown...

My ears have always told me
that a tune is more tuneful

when it is played for the
pleasure of it and not the purpose.

Onward Christian Soldiers
is not merely a tune.

It is a hymn of praise.

God must enjoy a comely melody,
otherwise we'd all be Germans.

When a man takes up charitable works

with such a jaunt, he might
ask hisself what it is he wants.

Wants? Every human is
human. We all wants.

Especially those who make such
an endeavour to please the Lord.

I will not... The idea!

To question a man's Godliness!

In front of children!

Have you heard about this
marching to Candleford, Queenie?

It sounds topping, don't it?

Yes. But I'm not sure I can
let my children take part.

I mean, if we are to live in
Candleford, how's it going to look,

us marching up the main
street with a begging bowl?

I expect it will look entertaining.

Still, I in't sure
it's possible, not now.

What's this? A shilling.

For taking care of Annie for me.

I've been minding that
babe since she were born.

There's been no mention of a shilling.

I mean no offence, Queenie.

It's just that I feel
obliged, that's all.

I told that journalist fella
that people don't change.

Well, perhaps I still have
a deal to learn in this life.

I'm so afraid, Queenie.

I've started something
that I can't stop.

I'm not a Candleford
woman. I never shall be.

Then stop trying.

I can't.

I must go on.

Why must you?

Ma, Daniel has found a place with a
yard for you and Pa to take a look at.

Oh, that's grand. We must tell your pa.

Alfie! You go fishing last night?

Only a pinch.

Why didn't you knock for me?

I didn't want to bother you. Bother me?

What's that look on your face?

I didn't want you to think that
I was after keeping your favour.

Alfie, look at me. I am
the same Robert Timmins

has been fishing with you
since before you had words.

I know. Only...Candleford and
the like. It's all different now.

Thomas, you have
abandoned your instrument.

I have abandoned my cause. But why?

What about your charitable purpose?

I have exploited those children,
Margaret, for my own gain.

I am selfish and self-centered.

All of it... Onward
Christian Soldiers...

I have done no more than
barter with my Creator,

seeking to please Him in order
that He might give me what I want.

But, Thomas, what is it that you want?

For the Almighty to
bless us with a child.

Is that so bad?

It is clear now the Lord
intends all to be as it is.

We shall no more endeavour.

There the matter begins and ends.

Usually, when a man avoids you, it's because
there's something he doesn't want to say.

I in't no right to speak the thoughts

that are washing round in my mind, sir.

Suppose I want to hear them?

Everything worth knowing about in
this life was taught to me by you.

I know you have to do
what's best for your family,

but in't it selfish
to move to Candleford?

Any man can do what he likes with
his own life, but what I thought

you've been telling me all these years

is that when you're a part of something,

you give back with loyalty,
and the giving is the reward.

We need you here

and you're going.

This place don't need me, Alfie.

I've found what I want -

a life beyond constant struggle.

The seal looks rather official.

Legal.

I thought I should bring it
myself, given its importance and...

In this envelope is

our future.

Our lives.

It is not in there, Emma.

- It is for you to decide.
- But it is decided by this letter.

We will move to Candleford.

What is it, Emma?

I've been so hasty, So eager to...

I can't bear the thought
of leaving Lark Rise.

But I've promised Robert.

He will never forgive me.

Surely he would understand.

Robert in't from Lark Rise.

He don't have his roots here.

He's a man who wants better
and I've always felt...

I hold him back.

When I listened to that solicitor speak,

I hardly heard his words.

I could only think of
what this meant to Robert.

At last.

He could leave behind the hamlet

and I could give that to him.

Once we make the move,

I will accept,

I will settle.

Emma, to want this for your husband,

to think beyond yourself,

to my eyes that is...everything.

What you have is so precious.

If you were to begin a life in
Candleford together with this...

struggle in your heart...

You must tell Robert.

Such pretty colours.

Thank you so much. Thank you.

Thank you. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Ruby!

We are awash with success. We've
never taken so much in one day.

- We should have a sale every week.
- Perhaps not.

The Pratts stand for
standards, after all.

This event is just to
suit our circumstances.

Yes, of course. For indulgences.

Margaret?

Margaret?

Your story?

Why?

I know my readers.

I give them what they want.

That's the reality of life,
the way people truly are.

Thomas, we have another one for you.

It will be in Oxford by this afternoon.

I have sent off my story. I'm
going on to Little Wittenham.

A family name there I wish to trace.

But you will miss the procession.

I mean,

must you go immediately?

When I finish a story, I...

I thought we could go
for a walk this evening.

I could show you some of
those places in my journal.

I really must. I...

I could stay...for the procession.

The post. All right.

I hear tell you won't
be Master of the Marchers

comes tomorrow, Thomas Brown.

A man may come to see
himself for what he is.

Your trouble is you take
this worid in earnest.

Why does a trumpet sound so glorious?

So that we might glory in it.

I once saw my wife

flitting about in the garden
wearing naught but her flesh.

You did?

Do all women do such things?

Only at certain moments in their lives.

Thomas Brown,

man before man,

why do you suppose God
made women so desirable?

So that we might desire them.

It is... It must be...God's purpose.

I will march.

I lied. I don't relish the
prospect of a life in Candleford,

but Em has her heart set on it.

Everything you said to me, Alfie,
was true and I needed to hear it.

I feel part of Lark Rise.

The threat of that being taken away
makes me realise how much it matters.

Life, it's not out there,

somewhere else,

something better.

Life is...right here.

What will you do?

Bide my time.

That solicitor fella says

it could be months
before we hear anything.

How were your studies today,
Sydney? Very well, Miss Lane.

We can't have you calling me Miss Lane.

Laura calls me ma'am.
Minnie calls me mum.

- What shall we have you call me?
- He could call you Ma, mum.

Mum, you tell me I must tell the truth,

but you in't telling the truth. I'm
only telling the truth when I say it.

Everyone knows you want to be
Sydney's ma and everyone else knows

he wants you to be his ma. His
ma has died and his pa in't here.

So if he calls you Ma,
then that's that, in't it?

It is true, in't it?

It is true, Minnie.

It is true.

Minnie, what are you doing?

If ever there was an occasión to
break out the upside-down cake!

My dear,

I have a confessión to make.

Well, several confessions.

I have partaken of superstitious...

I have... I went out...

I...

I... Let us go home.

Oh.

Are we to endeavour?

Endeavoring, my dear,
is what we shall not do.

"It is said that God made Lark Rise
with the leftovers when he was done

"making the rest of the Earth.

"And now a family from this backwoods
bog have inherited enough money

"to move to the self-respecting
market town of Candleford."

"Robert Timmins, a man who the
locals say looks out from this

"savage little hamlet as though
he owns the fields on one side

"and is about to buy the
fields on the other..."

"His wife who has never
bought a dress before..."

"So poor they send their children
marching down Candleford main street

"to beg for clothes."

"How will a town so determined

"to cultivate its own
self-importance welcome

"a man who eats a potato on the square?"

"According to the Post Mistress, it
will send shivers down their spines."

They change what I write. No. You took
those from my journal and twisted them

to make them sound mocking. You wrote
this. What kind of person does such a thing?

I am a journalist. You asked for my journal
and intended this. I am a journalist.

To you I am no more than a gullible,
foolish little country girl.

I am a journalist! Don't hide
behind your position, your job!

Daniel Parish did this to me! Have you
any idea what this will do to my family?

Do you have any care
for any living soul?

- I stayed, knowing you would read it.
- You suppose that makes me forgive you?

You have the courage to hear me
call you for the beast you are?

I stayed so you could see me for
what I am, for what I truly am.

A journalist to my core.

Hungry, greedy. merciless,
capable of anything.

And still, I stayed.

But now we'll be rid of you.

That's not how I wrote it.

You see for yourself, Pa.

But you did give him your journal.

I've never shown it
to another living soul

and I gave it to a stranger.

I never want to write another word.

Now you're thinking like a fool.

You are more of a writer
than he could ever be.

What is it?

Daniel told me the same thing himself.

BAND TUNES UP

Onward Christian Soldiers.

On the count of four. One, two,
three, four. One, two, three...

# Onward Christian soldiers

# Marching as to the war

# With the cross of Jesus... #

You have to tell him. I'm so afraid.

If I open this letter, I
will lose everything I have.

But I must open it and I don't
know what will happen when I do.

Do you have the letter?

Robert...

I didn't dare tell you.

I wanted to put it off until I...

I don't know. Until I felt brave enough.

You open it, Robert.

There is more than £120,
ready to be paid out now.

Oh, Lordy.

However, there are several claimants.

So our stake remains as much as...

Seven pounds, eight
shillings and sixpence

if we are willing to
settle our claim now.

Are we willing?

We are willing.

Well, that should pay for the
dress and a few weeks' rent.

I feel blessed.

I thought you were keen to settle here.

No. I thought you were keen, is all.

I was going along with it for you.

What a pair of fools!

# Till every foe is vanquished

# And Christ is Lord indeed

# Stand up, stand up for Jesus

# The solemn watchword hear

# If while ye sleep He suffers

# Away with shame and fear

# Where'er ye meet with evil

# Within you or without

# Charge for the God of battles

# And put the foe to rout

# Stand up, stand up for Jesus... #

You are not gullible, Laura.

You are innocent.

There is a worid of difference.

If there's a fool here, it's me.

I want you to know that.

I always looked at the worid one
way, to be used to meet my own ends,

feed my own ambition.

I was wrong.

You showed me that.

I am returning to Oxford, but I
could not leave without telling you

the way you see life, you're right.

Don't lose that just because
one fool betrayed you.

I want to dislike you.

I can't seem to do it.

What I saw in you as we walked...

..it's true, Daniel.

You could live by that.

Can I?

I believe you can.

'My pa once told me that we
don't have to fear change.'

May I write to you?

'But neither do we have
to be at the mercy of it.'

But I thought the sale
was a tremendous success

and that you took sufficient
income to pay your suppliers.

My sister has spent all the money.

But how could she? What could
she spend so much money on?

It's working! It's
working! It's working!

Everyone is going to want one of these!

'But change comes in many shapes,
and sometimes at quite a cost.

'To the hamlet, change
came slowly but surely.

'And that is how they liked it.

'For myself, something happened.

'I found myself waiting.'

The Bishop...is coming.

That tree...is a woman? A witch? Yes.

But it is heathen superstition.

I do believe the whole
worid is out of joint.

What brings you back here?

I have a gift, for Laura.

Where my daughter's concerned,

I wish you were 100 miles away.

What's it like to fall in love?

I didn't know I was in
love until you asked me.

If I was in love with Daniel and he came
all the way to Candleford just to see me,

I would tell him I loved
him. Would you tell him? Yes.