Lark Rise to Candleford (2008–2011): Season 3, Episode 5 - Episode #3.5 - full transcript
Mr. Reppington, a recluse staying at the Golden Lion hotel, asks Dorcas to administer a fund he has set up to help poor widows. He turns out to be William Bourne, a famous concert pianist who has now given up playing as he is mourning his childhood sweetheart, a Candleford girl whom he sacrificed for his career and who has recently died after years of marriage to another man. She and Minnie also prevail upon Ruby, who is leaving for Pontefract, to bid a proper farewell to Pearl rather than slipping away in the night.
LAURA: 'There was an old local saying
- "Alone...you're nobody."
'Miss Lane often said
that the key to life
'was that people need people.
'I found it strange
that there were people
'who did not have people in their lives.
'I found it mystifying that they
should choose to live that way.'
More parcels for Mr Reppington?
More gramophone records.
Which are not so light
to be ferrying to and fro.
Only "to", Thomas, and only as
far as the end of the street.
"From" the delivery wagon,
ma'am, and "to" the Golden Lion.
One of the porters told me
that Mr Rippingforth has
fingernails longer than his arms
and that he eats his own hair.
How long has he been up on
the top floor of the hotel?
Almost five months. No-one
has seen him or spoken to him,
save for his personal valet, who is
the only one allowed into his room
and seems to be sworn to secrecy.
Poor valet has the fear-eyed look of
a man beaten down by a cruel employer.
To conceal your face must mean
you have a face needs concealing.
I have heard talk of a heinous crime
which brought Mr Reppington to
bury himself away in the hotel.
I hardly think a wanted
man would choose an hotel
to hide from the world.
Perhaps he is just shy.
Extremely shy.
Candleford is out of the way, ma'am.
And hotel rooms is outer of the way.
I heard he comes out at
night to peer through windows
and he had teeth could
bite through doors.
Perhaps he steals maids and
boils them for his supper.
Do you truly think so,
ma'am? Oh, honestly!
This empty gossip and rumour-mongering is
getting out of hand. It must be stopped.
How can it be stopped, ma'am, when
he remains a mystery in our midst?
That is simple.
The mystery must be solved.
DOOR OPENS
Look at those things in my living room.
I don't know what is worse,
the ugliness of them
or the smell of them.
These are a working man's feet.
These are toes to be proud of.
Toes that deserve tender respect.
What they deserve
is a room of their own where
I don't have to look at them.
A house of their own!
Woman, you do not appreciate earthy
beauty when it is under your eyes.
If you so much as hug me
looking like something that
has crawled out of a ditch,
I will have you sleep in the pigsty.
Robert, whatever
happened to...romance...
and mystery?
Give us those socks, and I'll darn them.
But the benefit is intended
for widows and widowers.
And you are neither, I am glad to say.
You didn't tell me that, you old duffer.
Ah, well. See, it's worse for
them as has two in the house.
There's two to feed
and two to keep warm.
But you do have the
comfort of a companion.
I think that is the
point of this stipend -
to alleviate the loss and the
loneliness with a few coals
and some rent for those in dire need.
And right it is. It's widows and
widowers that the wagon comes for
to take 'em to the workhouse.
There's old folks picking up
pennies from the Post Office
who's younger than me,
and that ain't justice.
I see no reason for you to be aggrieved
with me about this, Mr Turrill.
I am merely appointed to
distribute the charity.
Miss Lane, you may be.
But why is you suddenly
a hexpert in old age?
And why do you have the "yes"
and "no" in this business?
That I do not know.
I did not ask for this responsibility.
It was foisted upon me by
the anonymous benefactor.
Who do you suppose it could be?
That has to be Mr Perpingtull.
Reppington, Minnie,
Repp-ing-ton.
And why does he want to be
so kindly toward the old folk?
Ma'am, can't you write to
Mr Pinklepump and tell him
that Mr and Mrs Turrill are so old
that they soon will be widowers?
One of them.
We don't know for certain that this
allowance is from Mr Perpingt...
ALL: Reppington.
Thank you.
But perhaps it's time we found out.
Minnie, I want you to
deliver a note to the hotel
for the attention of
Mr Reppington's valet.
CHURCH BELL RINGS
"A Parade of Fashion." Correction
- "The Latest Fashion.
"Announcing the A-line
skirt hot from Paris.
"The Pratts bring haute
couture to the Golden Lion."
Isn't that rather a
lot to fit on a banner?
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruby. This
will be a leaflet for dispersing.
Well, come along
- there is much to prepare.
We must have everything perfectly
in place so there may be no hiccups.
This promises to be one of the
biggest nights of our lives.
PEOPLE CHATTING
Ma'am, I have a note for you...
from Mr Reppington's valet.
It seems to be a cipher.
Why would he send you a cipher, ma'am?
Mr Reppington is clearly
a man who enjoys mystery.
A man who lives by self-concealment.
Laura, what is a cipher?
It is a means of making a
message so that it cannot be read.
A message is writ so
that it cannot be read?
What's the use of that?!
I can help you unscramble it, Miss Lane.
Oh, I will relish the challenge
our neighbour has set me.
Has it got a secret in it?
Cabbage.
Ain't there even the
ghost of a bit of bacon?
Cabbage.
Tom, ain't it time you had a shave?
I can hardly see your face.
What's the point of shaving? It'll
only grow back again tomorrow.
Your hair needs cutting.
Looks like a rat's nest.
I shall cut my hair on my
birthday... same as every year.
You used to be so proud of your looks.
I remember when the
gamekeeper give you that coat.
When you first wore that hat,
you were the dandiest thing
that ever strolled through this hamlet.
WHEEZY COUGHING
What's that?
A cough.
That was wheezing.
Wheezing is what the
frailest of old folk do.
I am old.
But I'm not as old as you.
A fashion parade to be
held at the Golden Lion.
An event. We've had
some leaflets printed.
We wish to attract all the
young ladies from hereabouts.
A fashion parade in Candleford!
We will of course draw the
line at serving girls and maids.
Pearl, I wonder.
The models will have
so many changes to make
during the course of the evening,
might we be in need of a dresser?
We cannot afford to pay you.
You mean I can be there?
And look at the dresses and look at
the ladies and look at the dancing?
You must rehearse with us
every evening to make sure
you know what you are doing.
I'm so glad you're
both going to be there.
I'm sure it will be an
occasion to remember.
Well...
A poem.
"Let the clocks strike twelve
where the moonlight falls,
"Let the night reveal
the face of mystery.
"In the garden behind the golden walls,
"Solitaire beneath a tree."
Golden walls...
The Golden Lion.
CHURCH CLOCK STRIKES
FOUNTAIN TRICKLES
It is rude to spy on someone.
Ah! Not if that person
knows they're being observed.
I'm not what you expected to find?
I did perhaps have a rather gothic
idea of what a recluse might look like.
HE LAUGHS
Our little town is peppered
with rumours and tales
about the mysterious Mr Reppington.
Ah, well, I don't mind.
Although I do take offence at
the idea that I eat my own hair.
I do need it all, you know.
Thank you for agreeing to
see me to discuss the stipend.
It has caused a good deal of
curiosity and a little controversy.
Oh, it's simply that
I can't bear the idea
of someone who has loved another
for a lifetime being so lonely.
Better that they endure
the loss in their own homes
rather than the workhouse.
Why do it anonymously?
I don't want a trail of beggars
and weaselers at my door.
Will that do you?
It will.
For now.
Why choose me for the task?
But you're Dorcas Lane.
Who else in Candleford might I select?
My father always used to say that
we have a duty to notice one another,
to be interested in the
condition of our neighbours.
Well, if one watches people closely,
as I've been doing since I came here,
then...one can even tell
what's about to happen.
You'll watch us, yet you turn
your face away from human contact.
I find that puzzling.
They say I am in hiding from the law.
Are you?
I hope I'd make a better fist
of it than this if I were.
You are an amiable man. You occupy
yourself with the lives of others.
And I have very few years left,
so why do I squander
them in my own company?
I can't help being curious...
...what did you do before
you chose this life?
I imagined that we might spend
some convivial time together...
...but you examine me
like some sort of exhibit.
I am no more than a riddle to you.
I am sorry.
Good night, Miss Lane.
HE SNORES
HE SNORTS
SHE GIGGLES QUIETLY
Are you perhaps a little
nervous about your fashion fair?
No, not at all. Not really...
Yes.
I expect people find it peculiar...
that such an event should
be put on by the Pratts.
I mean, women choose their
clothes to look attractive.
To please a man.
Oh, I'm not sure that is true.
I myself simply love
the feel of a good silk.
I see no reason to please Mr
Tarman or Constable Patterson.
I only meant it's not wrong for
a woman to want to appeal to...
...to imagine...
...to want...
And Pontefract is such a long way away.
We have our correspondence.
I am a post mistress.
I have seen for many years what becomes
of love affairs conducted by letters.
It is joyous, for a while.
Then it is not enough.
Why should it be?
An envelope cannot wrap
its arms around you.
And then it becomes painful.
Every missive emphasises the distance...
...until it becomes too much,
and thoughts turn to a
remedy for that longing.
What about your thoughts, Ruby?
There is only one remedy.
Miss Lane!
Miss Lane, Miss Lane, might
I put upon your good nature
and persuade you to invite
Lady Whiteleaf to our show?
She is, after all,
your riding companion.
You might encourage her
to come as your guest.
Lady Whiteleaf, yes, of course. That
would give me the greatest of pleasure.
ALL LAUGH
And when I looked back, he winked.
Winked?!
Flattery from a young yeoman
is enough to take 20
years off a woman's life.
He wasn't so young
- perhaps 30.
Ain't that young?
I look at my Twister...all that hair.
I've been cutting a piece
or two off each night
so he won't notice.
Under all them weeds is a
man I once found fetching.
A wink on the street means
nothing. It's harmless enough.
It means something. It means you can
still attract the eye and admiration
of a handsome man in uniform.
It does lift your spirits.
You enjoy it while you can, my dear.
A girl's idea of paradise
- winked at.
No harm in it, no harm at all.
Miss Lane, I believe you
are the one I must speak to
concerning the benefactor
fellow giving out alms?
I am...
...but unfortunately he has
made very strict stipulations.
I never have been one to beg. If
a man is able to work to provide
for his family, that's
what he ought to do.
But in your circumstances,
I can see you might
need a little assistance.
I can make enough in the fields
to pay for the rent and feed us.
Lizzie needs new shoes, see.
If we can tide by for now,
in a few weeks all will be topping.
We just need a pound or two.
Perhaps if I speak with him,
explain your plight, he might take pity.
I don't ask for pity, Miss Lane.
I just want a chance to show
I can take care of my family.
It will all come good. I can do this.
Come on.
BELL RINGS
I have never known you
to be so quiet, Minnie.
Is that a flush on your face?
If your tea goes cold,
it ain't my fault.
Ma'am.
Mr Parish, I wonder if your
newspaper might be interested
in what is causing such
a stir in Candleford.
We have stolen a march on
Oxford where Paris is concerned.
My dear, how's your heart?
Your ma died of her heart, and
you're older than your ma ever was.
What kind of maudlin talk is that?!
Thomas Brown...
...how does Queenie look to you?
She looks like Queenie.
But how does she look in herself?
Hale, hearty.
Only she's been wheezing, see.
So have I.
What is it bothering you, Mr Turrill?
She will die.
Ah, yes. In fact, we
will all die in the end,
in our turn.
That ain't the point of it.
What if she dies and I don't?
We must achieve speed,
child. Speed and perfection.
I surely will, ma'am.
Pearl, on such an occasion as this,
when we are surrounded by
our friends, such goodwill...
Nonsense, Ruby. This is
entirely a business affair.
But such a gathering, the
support of our neighbours...
it is, is it not, an
indication of the fondness...
We must harness this
opportunity to generate income.
Every encounter is a potential sale, every
conversation a customer in the making.
That must be ever present in our minds.
Perhaps not ever present?
Candleford is so full of people
who might offer a hand of comfort,
of sustenance, and this event...
Do you see? It holds the
possibility for us to deepen...
to lean upon...
Ruby, must I forever correct
your wayward thinking?
I hope to not always be
a burden to you, Pearl.
My sisters and I would find
a clump of white violets
in a cleft of the brook bank, and
we called it our "holy secret".
We would guard them the day long.
We were only about six or seven.
We loved our little secret.
Ethel, the tree
- let's go climb it. Come on.
"I have been watching you."
What is it, Ma?
What does it say?
Um...it's nothing.
Nothing to do with us. Come on. Whoo!
Ma'am...
you know how my sisters
vanished and were gone?
And, ma'am, I did notice how,
before they vanished,
they were different.
TELEGRAPH MACHINE RINGS
What are you two doing out here?
Ma'am, Daniel has been sending and
receiving telegrams all afternoon.
And, ma'am...
it appears that Mr Reppington
is not Mr Reppington.
Oh, really? The mystery deepens.
When Laura told me the
timing of his arrival here,
I realised there was a coincidence.
Have you ever heard of William Bourne?
The concert pianist, of course.
It appears that he vanished
without trace around the same time
that Mr Reppington
arrived here in Candleford.
I've been looking at
newspapers from the time.
There was great speculation
about why William Bourne
should suddenly disappear
from London society.
I expect he might
have grown weary of it.
Society can be very tiring.
And with this man in the
hotel who no-one has seen
and with gramophone
records being delivered.
William Bourne's tour of
Europe was a major success.
He created such a clamour that members
of the audience were left collapsed
and thrown into a trance by his playing.
How fascinating.
So why is he in hiding?
Don't you think you're
jumping to conclusions
based on a coincidence of dates?
William Bourne was known for his
fondness of riddles and ciphers.
Ma'am...
Minnie is asleep.
She was becoming anxious whenever
she mentioned her sisters,
so I told her to close her
eyes and take slow breaths.
Now every time she utters the
word "sister", she falls to sleep.
Oh, my post office.
Oh, Miss Lane!
The latest ladies' apparel to be paraded
in order that clients
might enjoy the enticement.
Oh, but I cannot afford
the latest fashions.
There, Miss Pratt.
It is only that...
I would be personally grateful if
you two were to favour the occasion.
Miss Pratt, I am a man.
I cannot look at women wearing clothes.
What Thomas means is
ladies exhibiting enticing attire.
Thomas...
you and I have passed the time of
day, every day, for so many years.
It would mean a great deal
to me if you were to come.
Perhaps, if you were to come for
the refreshments and a waltz...
or two, you might avert
your eyes during the parade?
Thomas, if you are not
required to actually look...
It is for a good cause. Yours
and your sister's business.
Oh, I am glad you can
see things that way.
My sister will need...
will welcome your support.
Pearl is not as invincible as
she cares to present herself.
The event will be quite
a trial for her...for us.
In the spirit of neighbourliness...
Margaret?
I suppose we might oblige.
You have always been
such cherished friends.
And will continue to be so.
We are not going anywhere.
William Bourne here in
Candleford. Think of it.
There is something in that cipher
Miss Lane is concealing from us.
It is a message between Mr
Reppington and Miss Lane.
What business is it of ours?
Do you not see the import of this?
There is a newspaper
recently launched in London.
It has a readership
of one million people.
I shared your excitement, Daniel.
The sending of those telegrams,
the idea that this great man is
in our midst, the mystery of why,
but what we do with that... William
Bourne is loved by many people.
They want to know, like
us, what has become of him.
What is wrong with telling them?
Because he does not want to be found!
I can see what you're thinking, Daniel.
A national newspaper.
This could be the making of you.
Of course you will think that.
But is that who you want to be?
I hoped you might come out.
Do you walk out here every night?
Or was it the thought
that I might return?
Perhaps I am as curious
about you as you are about me.
I have been wondering... why
did you come to Candleford?
You could hide in Venice,
Niagara Falls,
Timbuktu.
HE LAUGHS
You underestimate the
delight of your town.
What I see from my window is...
...wondrously English.
My father used to say that
Candleford was peculiarly English.
That was why he stayed.
Opened the post office and the forge.
Why he poured himself
into the life of this town.
Ah-ha!
Now I understand
- you were born into the hub of the town, hm?
The mixing pot of other people's lives.
I like to tell the tale of how
he took to his bed for nine days
so that I might find my
feet behind the counter.
And it was the making
of you, Dorcas Lane.
The comings and goings. The
letters and their telltale signs.
You have a regular delivery
of gramophone records.
Is music a comfort to you?
You assume I need to be comforted.
Can you truly tell me
that you are contented...
William?
If I'm uncovered, I'll vanish.
I don't think you want to do that.
I believe you came to
Candleford for a reason.
There is a journalist here in town.
Daniel Parish, I know about him.
He is an eager young
man with certain talents.
I suspect he might
uncover more about you.
The time has come for me to leave.
Then your life will always be so.
Moving on don't you see?
Seeking out another hiding place.
Are you so determined to avoid yourself?
My neighbours are curious about me...
but when you look up at my window,
what I see in those eyes is a challenge.
You find my decision unacceptable.
Perhaps because what you
do seems to me to be...
against nature.
And do you suppose that your...kindness
will restore me to my former life?
Is that what you hope?
Not your former life, no.
Some kind of life,
perhaps. Here, perhaps.
To go from a life so
full of riches to this...
something happened.
Something must have happened.
TWIG SNAPS
Someone's there.
Let me go.
Miss Lane!
Fine night. The moon's up.
If I could just explain
to Mr Purpletush,
it's worse for them as
has two in the house.
Two to feed, two to keep warm.
OWL HOOTS
DEEP BREATH
ALL LAUGH
Did you put him up to this?
Who?
The soldier, did you encourage him?
Mrs Timmins, I have...
The note left on the tree.
"I cannot leave you alone."
Do you wish to cause
trouble for me? Is that it?
I promise you I know nothing.
I saw you talking and laughing
with those soldiers. I saw you.
I only smiled at him.
A smile is no more than a smile.
I had no intention of
inviting him to pursue me.
Mrs Timmins... I'm a married
woman, I love my husband.
I will not let you make
trouble with my family.
Come with me now and
speak with the soldier.
Let him tell you that
I have no part in this.
I know what you think of me,
but I will not permit
you to accuse me of this.
Now come with me.
Oh, Lordy.
Mrs Timmins, if this man is bothering
you then let me confront him.
No, not that.
Not you.
I am such a fool.
Alfie, I'm waiting for the
eggler. Have you seen him?
The eggler's always late. It's his legs.
What you waiting in Lark Rise for
when he comes regular to Candleford?
Because...Miss Lane has decided
to make caper mayonnaise.
The truth of it is, Alfie, I
ain't waiting for the eggler.
Who you waiting for, then?
For you. But I'm here.
I know.
Am I allowed to talk about your ma
being gone and your pa being gone
while the children are listening?
You just did.
Will you take her?
Go on.
Only, there's a lot of
people gone, ain't they?
When my first sister vanished away,
afterwards, not before,
I saw the signs of it.
Then when my second sister
was preparing, I could feel it.
But how do you stop it, Alfie?
How?
When you know someone is going to
go, and people will be so hurt...
...what do you do to stop it happening?
Who are you talking about? Who's going?
Minnie?
Minnie.
She's asleep!
Minnie, what kind of way
is this to arrive home?
It's a disgrace, ma'am.
It ain't her fault, Miss Lane.
She sort of passed out is all.
We are about to hear the
wonder that is William Bourne.
CLASSICAL PIANO MUSIC PLAYS
BELL RINGS
BREATHES DEEPLY
MUSIC FADES
Her name was Isobel Bonner.
She was something of a London
socialite, a rare beauty.
She died on the 4th of June.
The very next day, William Bourne
cancelled his tour and vanished.
Why would her death
make him go into hiding?
There was talk.
Mrs Bonner would turn up wherever
William Bourne was playing.
She was married for 31
years to Sir Charles Bonner.
How long were Isobel
Bonner and William Bourne...
...known to one another?
Since before she was married.
She was called Mostyn then, not Bonner.
Yes, of course.
Must you always make
bedlam when I am busiest?
Ow! Give it! Frank was using it first.
No, he wasn't. Yes, he was.
Can you settle these children of yours?
They are beyond me. Away.
Now, there's a welcome home(!) Wash
your hands before you set the table.
What kind of example do you wish to set?
(I've been watching you.)
I can't stay away from you.
Didn't you say there wasn't
enough romance and mystery?
Em?
Em, what is it?
If I could go back...
...I would look at
that hole in your sock.
Holes. Each foot had its own glory.
I would not chide you.
I would not call my own husband ugly.
Robert, I'm so sorry.
If there's one thing
I know about women...
...I don't have an
inkling how they work.
Use the back of your hand to protect...
The idea is the garment must be laid
out for the model to step quickly into.
This is such hot work. Shall
I fetch us some cooling liquid?
Ma'am, I know it ain't my business.
I want to say something about...someone
without saying one certain word.
Someone who is not a brother.
You have one, and I have two.
And that person,
when they ain't here, then you
wish you'd been kinder to them.
Look at her!
Heaven help us. Give her the liquid!
I have been no more
than a silly, vain...
I have been wishing for
things a girl wishes for.
Not a woman, married with children.
Why can't I accept that?
You've done nothing wrong.
But it might not look that way
when Daniel Parish tells the tale.
Then you must go to him.
Explain truthfully.
Tell him you made a mistake.
The soldier did not send the note.
I will be putting myself
entirely at his mercy.
Like it or not, you're
already at his mercy.
For the first time in my life,
I feel like I want to run.
If my husband hears any of this...
Oh, I can't bear it.
I want to vanish away.
But you won't.
You will stay.
You will face Daniel,
because you're a brave woman
and because you have to.
Ma'am, would you do something for me?
If I fall asleep,
would you slap my face?
Minnie, you must try harder,
or Pearl will dismiss you.
Miss Pearl's fearsome, ain't she?
Pearl is the way she is because
of the way the world is...
...to her.
When someone leaves someone,
and that someone don't say
they're going or why or anything,
it hurts like no other hurt.
You know.
How do you know?
I see you getting ready
for it. I seen it before.
If my sisters hadn't gone,
then I could talk to them
and then I wouldn't feel so deserted.
Oh, Minnie...
You're right.
Pearl was abandoned once by our father.
He went out one day and he
simply did not come home.
What he did was...
selfish and cowardly and ruinous.
It was beyond forgiveness.
If I were to go, it would be the same.
I didn't see that.
I would be tormented by
thoughts of my own cruelty.
I suppose I've been indulging a wish.
A fickle little wish.
I will stay.
Of course I will stay.
How could I ever have
considered any other possibility?
KNOCKING
Miss Lane, come on in. Lizzie,
fetch Miss Lane a drink.
I was passing nearby on my
ride out and I thought...
I wanted to tell you that I did get two
pounds from Mr Reppington for you.
And I wanted to thank you
for bringing Minnie home.
I was glad to help, Miss Lane.
Alf, you have a lot to
contend with at the moment.
I know how fond of you Minnie is and...
she is most impressionable.
I wanted to ask you to be careful.
Miss Lane, what I been
taught the hard way is
life ain't ours to
map out how we want it.
We take the joys it gives
us and be glad for 'em.
What use am I to my sisters
if I am miserable the day long?
Minnie...makes me laugh.
She makes me smile. That's all.
Mr Reppington didn't give you that two pounds
Please take it, Alf.
And bow my head every time
I come in the post office?
I shan't.
I have a task that needs doing tonight.
I need several men.
Perhaps if I were to pay you...?
MEN GRUNT
I borrowed it from a neighbour.
Lady Whiteleaf.
If she knew what I wanted it
for, she would be beside herself.
It's excessive. Intrusive.
But since it is here,
why don't you play?
Please?
I felt I had to do something.
Don't you miss composing?
What makes you think I've stopped, hm?
It's here, in my head.
But you don't write it
down, you don't play it.
What does it matter?
It matters, because
you are not in hiding.
You are in mourning.
I feel it on you like a sickness,
but you cannot admit it.
You are so utterly
resolved to deny yourself.
I said that you found my
isolation unacceptable.
Well, I was wrong.
You find it unbearable.
I am nothing to you,
and yet you pursue me as though your life depended on it
- why?
Why that look in the eye?
The fire in the voice?
Is what you did so unforgivable?
Yes!
Isobel Mostyn was a Candleford girl.
She married well
- Sir Charles Bonner.
Do you hope to see her
ghost from your window?
All right.
I could have married her,
but I was too in love with my
music and my glittering career,
and I kept her
dangling... for too long...
...and she married.
And then I knew.
Oh, God, then I knew.
She wouldn't leave her husband.
She couldn't hurt him.
But you continued to see one another?
Continued to love one another.
Love does not do this to a man.
It is guilt which crushes us.
It is shame which holds us in the dark.
My father...
I'm not your father!
You're determined to draw me out. Why?
You think that you're doing
it for me, but you're not.
You're doing it for you.
My father died so young.
He was not given enough time,
and you...
you refuse to live.
Play!
I cannot bear that you
deny yourself. Play!
If I did...
...I'd be doing it for you.
I won't do that.
I will tell you why.
My father was the heart of this town.
Life poured through him.
And then there were
times when it didn't.
He withdrew.
He was gone from me for days,
and I could not comprehend it.
I could not draw him out.
And it pained me like nothing else.
Like the fear was in my blood...
...and it would never end.
And then the day did
come when he was gone...
...and the pain was the
same, and the fear unbearable.
So, yes...you would be
doing it for me, I admit it.
I cannot bear your isolation.
But it is not yours to bear.
It's mine.
And I'll be true to it.
Mrs Timmins.
Mr Parish, my husband wrote that note.
The soldier did not write it.
I thought you should know.
Of course.
I hope you did not
speak with the soldier.
Things are confused enough.
I can understand that you might be
concerned what people think of you.
What I might think of you.
You might think you can destroy me
and perhaps you can.
If you hadn't noticed I saw you
when you smiled at the soldier,
when you received the note,
what would you have made of it?
I don't know, I...
Robert.
I would have seen that...
...Robert left it for me.
I know you will not feel safe
with me having this knowledge.
There's nothing I can do about that.
I broke my promise to
you about seeing Laura.
Any assurances I make
will be of no value to you.
Let me say this.
I have no wish to make mention
of this business to anyone.
Time will tell you I mean
you no harm, Mrs Timmins.
You shall see.
I was hard on you, wasn't I?
So you decided to write it, then?
Of course.
The world deserves to know that
Candleford is a place of renown
since the sisters Pratt have
"stolen a march on Oxford
"and introduced the A-line
skirt hot from Paris".
I ain't got no intention of dying.
Good.
Neither have I.
Not yet.
Twister...
...every wife and every husband
comes to this in the end.
Who's to be the one left behind?
Who's to bear the sorrow
and the loneliness?
What I can't stand is I don't
want it to be me that goes,
and I don't want you to go neither.
Well...we ain't there yet,
and fretting about it don't
make the best of what we have.
Now, does it?
Fretting's what I'm best at.
Oh! Cabbage!
Cabbage.
Mr Reppington, if I may...
I have been considering what
you said about my motivations.
You are right.
It is not my business how you choose
to spend the remainder of your days.
I am glad to hear that. So may we
part as friends in mutual respect?
Yes, but I'm not quite done.
You said that what you saw
in my face was a challenge.
I believe you want that challenge.
That is why you sent me a note.
No, a cipher.
Playful, enticing.
You want the game. You
wish me to draw you out.
Your world was sealed.
You broke that seal.
Perhaps I simply wanted
to prove you wrong.
If that is what you believe...
if you truly want to know,
let me put you to one more test.
If it does not turn your thinking,
I will leave you to
enjoy your isolation.
# The lark in the morning
she rises off her nest
# She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her breast
# And like the jolly ploughboy
she whistles and she sings
# She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her wings
# Oh, Roger, the ploughboy
He is a dashing blade... #
SONG CONTINUES IN BACKGROUND
I cannot hold a tune.
I cannot rescue you.
Words cannot save you.
But music may.
#..She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her breast
# And like the jolly ploughboy
she whistles and she sings
# She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her wings
# One evening coming home
from the rakes of the town
# The meadows been all green
and the grass had been cut down
# As I should chance to
tumble all in the new-mown hay
# "Oh, it's kiss me now or never,
love," this bonnie lass did say. #
Mystery and romance.
There's something in that kiss.
Something new.
APPLAUSE AND MUSIC
I heard that Mr Reppington left already.
Yes.
But we are here, so we
will enjoy ourselves.
And now a superb evening
gown in pale green silk.
It has a curved decollete with
an elaborately-beaded corsage.
HE STARTS TO PLAY
MUSIC CONTINUES
MUSIC FADES
APPLAUSE
Ruby.
Mr Bourne.
May I say, your playing...
What's Candleford done
to deserve such a wonder?
Oh, please...!
Miss Pratt, forgive me
for being so forthright,
but I have been watching
the town through my window,
and I feel I know you,
and I know that these are
perilous times for you.
And Miss Lane has told me a
little of your circumstances.
Pontefract.
I cannot abandon my sister.
You don't have to. Face her. Tell her.
Oh, that's impossible.
I let my moment pass.
Ruby, dear Ruby...
Pearl might be more prepared for
this possibility than you can imagine.
Mmm. I've bitterly regretted
my decision a thousand times.
MUSIC AND CONVERSATION
Pearl, do you think we
might step aside to speak?
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruby.
This is the worst possible moment!
Look at them! They are
ripe for the picking!
Pearl, please.
I am leaving.
You cannot possibly abandon the party
when there's business to be done.
I'm leaving Candleford.
I'm leaving you.
Whatever we say to one
another now, I am going.
I will travel tonight.
I had plans to vanish,
I was so afraid you would
dissuade me, prevent me.
I realise now I cannot
do that. I must face you.
I am taking up a new
life... with Lionel.
I always knew this day would come.
I cannot bear the
thought of hurting you.
But you can bear the thought
of remaining even less.
APPLAUSE
Believe me, there is much
about our life here that I love.
But...I am a woman.
I want to be more than a
sister, more than a seamstress.
I long for...
an embrace.
Is that so bad?
I dream of a family of my own.
Isn't that natural?
It is more than natural.
It is beautiful.
I promise you...
if the day ever comes,
it will be you I turn to,
because I know you are my
dearest friend in this world.
Go.
Please, go.
LAURA: 'Kinship spins threads around us,
'but there comes a time
when we must break free.
'Who knows for how long?
'There was an old local saying -
'"Alone you're nobody."
'Miss Lane often said
that the key to life
'was that people need people.'
All I need now is a story to
launch the Candleford Chronicle.
Who is old peg leg?
A veteran.
From the Crimean War.
What is it you seek to achieve, Daniel?
Justice.
For an old man.
How's a man like you come to have
such a fine bottle of brandy, Arthur?
But why does he live as he does if...
He ain't the man we thought.
Us.
What are you doing?
- "Alone...you're nobody."
'Miss Lane often said
that the key to life
'was that people need people.
'I found it strange
that there were people
'who did not have people in their lives.
'I found it mystifying that they
should choose to live that way.'
More parcels for Mr Reppington?
More gramophone records.
Which are not so light
to be ferrying to and fro.
Only "to", Thomas, and only as
far as the end of the street.
"From" the delivery wagon,
ma'am, and "to" the Golden Lion.
One of the porters told me
that Mr Rippingforth has
fingernails longer than his arms
and that he eats his own hair.
How long has he been up on
the top floor of the hotel?
Almost five months. No-one
has seen him or spoken to him,
save for his personal valet, who is
the only one allowed into his room
and seems to be sworn to secrecy.
Poor valet has the fear-eyed look of
a man beaten down by a cruel employer.
To conceal your face must mean
you have a face needs concealing.
I have heard talk of a heinous crime
which brought Mr Reppington to
bury himself away in the hotel.
I hardly think a wanted
man would choose an hotel
to hide from the world.
Perhaps he is just shy.
Extremely shy.
Candleford is out of the way, ma'am.
And hotel rooms is outer of the way.
I heard he comes out at
night to peer through windows
and he had teeth could
bite through doors.
Perhaps he steals maids and
boils them for his supper.
Do you truly think so,
ma'am? Oh, honestly!
This empty gossip and rumour-mongering is
getting out of hand. It must be stopped.
How can it be stopped, ma'am, when
he remains a mystery in our midst?
That is simple.
The mystery must be solved.
DOOR OPENS
Look at those things in my living room.
I don't know what is worse,
the ugliness of them
or the smell of them.
These are a working man's feet.
These are toes to be proud of.
Toes that deserve tender respect.
What they deserve
is a room of their own where
I don't have to look at them.
A house of their own!
Woman, you do not appreciate earthy
beauty when it is under your eyes.
If you so much as hug me
looking like something that
has crawled out of a ditch,
I will have you sleep in the pigsty.
Robert, whatever
happened to...romance...
and mystery?
Give us those socks, and I'll darn them.
But the benefit is intended
for widows and widowers.
And you are neither, I am glad to say.
You didn't tell me that, you old duffer.
Ah, well. See, it's worse for
them as has two in the house.
There's two to feed
and two to keep warm.
But you do have the
comfort of a companion.
I think that is the
point of this stipend -
to alleviate the loss and the
loneliness with a few coals
and some rent for those in dire need.
And right it is. It's widows and
widowers that the wagon comes for
to take 'em to the workhouse.
There's old folks picking up
pennies from the Post Office
who's younger than me,
and that ain't justice.
I see no reason for you to be aggrieved
with me about this, Mr Turrill.
I am merely appointed to
distribute the charity.
Miss Lane, you may be.
But why is you suddenly
a hexpert in old age?
And why do you have the "yes"
and "no" in this business?
That I do not know.
I did not ask for this responsibility.
It was foisted upon me by
the anonymous benefactor.
Who do you suppose it could be?
That has to be Mr Perpingtull.
Reppington, Minnie,
Repp-ing-ton.
And why does he want to be
so kindly toward the old folk?
Ma'am, can't you write to
Mr Pinklepump and tell him
that Mr and Mrs Turrill are so old
that they soon will be widowers?
One of them.
We don't know for certain that this
allowance is from Mr Perpingt...
ALL: Reppington.
Thank you.
But perhaps it's time we found out.
Minnie, I want you to
deliver a note to the hotel
for the attention of
Mr Reppington's valet.
CHURCH BELL RINGS
"A Parade of Fashion." Correction
- "The Latest Fashion.
"Announcing the A-line
skirt hot from Paris.
"The Pratts bring haute
couture to the Golden Lion."
Isn't that rather a
lot to fit on a banner?
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruby. This
will be a leaflet for dispersing.
Well, come along
- there is much to prepare.
We must have everything perfectly
in place so there may be no hiccups.
This promises to be one of the
biggest nights of our lives.
PEOPLE CHATTING
Ma'am, I have a note for you...
from Mr Reppington's valet.
It seems to be a cipher.
Why would he send you a cipher, ma'am?
Mr Reppington is clearly
a man who enjoys mystery.
A man who lives by self-concealment.
Laura, what is a cipher?
It is a means of making a
message so that it cannot be read.
A message is writ so
that it cannot be read?
What's the use of that?!
I can help you unscramble it, Miss Lane.
Oh, I will relish the challenge
our neighbour has set me.
Has it got a secret in it?
Cabbage.
Ain't there even the
ghost of a bit of bacon?
Cabbage.
Tom, ain't it time you had a shave?
I can hardly see your face.
What's the point of shaving? It'll
only grow back again tomorrow.
Your hair needs cutting.
Looks like a rat's nest.
I shall cut my hair on my
birthday... same as every year.
You used to be so proud of your looks.
I remember when the
gamekeeper give you that coat.
When you first wore that hat,
you were the dandiest thing
that ever strolled through this hamlet.
WHEEZY COUGHING
What's that?
A cough.
That was wheezing.
Wheezing is what the
frailest of old folk do.
I am old.
But I'm not as old as you.
A fashion parade to be
held at the Golden Lion.
An event. We've had
some leaflets printed.
We wish to attract all the
young ladies from hereabouts.
A fashion parade in Candleford!
We will of course draw the
line at serving girls and maids.
Pearl, I wonder.
The models will have
so many changes to make
during the course of the evening,
might we be in need of a dresser?
We cannot afford to pay you.
You mean I can be there?
And look at the dresses and look at
the ladies and look at the dancing?
You must rehearse with us
every evening to make sure
you know what you are doing.
I'm so glad you're
both going to be there.
I'm sure it will be an
occasion to remember.
Well...
A poem.
"Let the clocks strike twelve
where the moonlight falls,
"Let the night reveal
the face of mystery.
"In the garden behind the golden walls,
"Solitaire beneath a tree."
Golden walls...
The Golden Lion.
CHURCH CLOCK STRIKES
FOUNTAIN TRICKLES
It is rude to spy on someone.
Ah! Not if that person
knows they're being observed.
I'm not what you expected to find?
I did perhaps have a rather gothic
idea of what a recluse might look like.
HE LAUGHS
Our little town is peppered
with rumours and tales
about the mysterious Mr Reppington.
Ah, well, I don't mind.
Although I do take offence at
the idea that I eat my own hair.
I do need it all, you know.
Thank you for agreeing to
see me to discuss the stipend.
It has caused a good deal of
curiosity and a little controversy.
Oh, it's simply that
I can't bear the idea
of someone who has loved another
for a lifetime being so lonely.
Better that they endure
the loss in their own homes
rather than the workhouse.
Why do it anonymously?
I don't want a trail of beggars
and weaselers at my door.
Will that do you?
It will.
For now.
Why choose me for the task?
But you're Dorcas Lane.
Who else in Candleford might I select?
My father always used to say that
we have a duty to notice one another,
to be interested in the
condition of our neighbours.
Well, if one watches people closely,
as I've been doing since I came here,
then...one can even tell
what's about to happen.
You'll watch us, yet you turn
your face away from human contact.
I find that puzzling.
They say I am in hiding from the law.
Are you?
I hope I'd make a better fist
of it than this if I were.
You are an amiable man. You occupy
yourself with the lives of others.
And I have very few years left,
so why do I squander
them in my own company?
I can't help being curious...
...what did you do before
you chose this life?
I imagined that we might spend
some convivial time together...
...but you examine me
like some sort of exhibit.
I am no more than a riddle to you.
I am sorry.
Good night, Miss Lane.
HE SNORES
HE SNORTS
SHE GIGGLES QUIETLY
Are you perhaps a little
nervous about your fashion fair?
No, not at all. Not really...
Yes.
I expect people find it peculiar...
that such an event should
be put on by the Pratts.
I mean, women choose their
clothes to look attractive.
To please a man.
Oh, I'm not sure that is true.
I myself simply love
the feel of a good silk.
I see no reason to please Mr
Tarman or Constable Patterson.
I only meant it's not wrong for
a woman to want to appeal to...
...to imagine...
...to want...
And Pontefract is such a long way away.
We have our correspondence.
I am a post mistress.
I have seen for many years what becomes
of love affairs conducted by letters.
It is joyous, for a while.
Then it is not enough.
Why should it be?
An envelope cannot wrap
its arms around you.
And then it becomes painful.
Every missive emphasises the distance...
...until it becomes too much,
and thoughts turn to a
remedy for that longing.
What about your thoughts, Ruby?
There is only one remedy.
Miss Lane!
Miss Lane, Miss Lane, might
I put upon your good nature
and persuade you to invite
Lady Whiteleaf to our show?
She is, after all,
your riding companion.
You might encourage her
to come as your guest.
Lady Whiteleaf, yes, of course. That
would give me the greatest of pleasure.
ALL LAUGH
And when I looked back, he winked.
Winked?!
Flattery from a young yeoman
is enough to take 20
years off a woman's life.
He wasn't so young
- perhaps 30.
Ain't that young?
I look at my Twister...all that hair.
I've been cutting a piece
or two off each night
so he won't notice.
Under all them weeds is a
man I once found fetching.
A wink on the street means
nothing. It's harmless enough.
It means something. It means you can
still attract the eye and admiration
of a handsome man in uniform.
It does lift your spirits.
You enjoy it while you can, my dear.
A girl's idea of paradise
- winked at.
No harm in it, no harm at all.
Miss Lane, I believe you
are the one I must speak to
concerning the benefactor
fellow giving out alms?
I am...
...but unfortunately he has
made very strict stipulations.
I never have been one to beg. If
a man is able to work to provide
for his family, that's
what he ought to do.
But in your circumstances,
I can see you might
need a little assistance.
I can make enough in the fields
to pay for the rent and feed us.
Lizzie needs new shoes, see.
If we can tide by for now,
in a few weeks all will be topping.
We just need a pound or two.
Perhaps if I speak with him,
explain your plight, he might take pity.
I don't ask for pity, Miss Lane.
I just want a chance to show
I can take care of my family.
It will all come good. I can do this.
Come on.
BELL RINGS
I have never known you
to be so quiet, Minnie.
Is that a flush on your face?
If your tea goes cold,
it ain't my fault.
Ma'am.
Mr Parish, I wonder if your
newspaper might be interested
in what is causing such
a stir in Candleford.
We have stolen a march on
Oxford where Paris is concerned.
My dear, how's your heart?
Your ma died of her heart, and
you're older than your ma ever was.
What kind of maudlin talk is that?!
Thomas Brown...
...how does Queenie look to you?
She looks like Queenie.
But how does she look in herself?
Hale, hearty.
Only she's been wheezing, see.
So have I.
What is it bothering you, Mr Turrill?
She will die.
Ah, yes. In fact, we
will all die in the end,
in our turn.
That ain't the point of it.
What if she dies and I don't?
We must achieve speed,
child. Speed and perfection.
I surely will, ma'am.
Pearl, on such an occasion as this,
when we are surrounded by
our friends, such goodwill...
Nonsense, Ruby. This is
entirely a business affair.
But such a gathering, the
support of our neighbours...
it is, is it not, an
indication of the fondness...
We must harness this
opportunity to generate income.
Every encounter is a potential sale, every
conversation a customer in the making.
That must be ever present in our minds.
Perhaps not ever present?
Candleford is so full of people
who might offer a hand of comfort,
of sustenance, and this event...
Do you see? It holds the
possibility for us to deepen...
to lean upon...
Ruby, must I forever correct
your wayward thinking?
I hope to not always be
a burden to you, Pearl.
My sisters and I would find
a clump of white violets
in a cleft of the brook bank, and
we called it our "holy secret".
We would guard them the day long.
We were only about six or seven.
We loved our little secret.
Ethel, the tree
- let's go climb it. Come on.
"I have been watching you."
What is it, Ma?
What does it say?
Um...it's nothing.
Nothing to do with us. Come on. Whoo!
Ma'am...
you know how my sisters
vanished and were gone?
And, ma'am, I did notice how,
before they vanished,
they were different.
TELEGRAPH MACHINE RINGS
What are you two doing out here?
Ma'am, Daniel has been sending and
receiving telegrams all afternoon.
And, ma'am...
it appears that Mr Reppington
is not Mr Reppington.
Oh, really? The mystery deepens.
When Laura told me the
timing of his arrival here,
I realised there was a coincidence.
Have you ever heard of William Bourne?
The concert pianist, of course.
It appears that he vanished
without trace around the same time
that Mr Reppington
arrived here in Candleford.
I've been looking at
newspapers from the time.
There was great speculation
about why William Bourne
should suddenly disappear
from London society.
I expect he might
have grown weary of it.
Society can be very tiring.
And with this man in the
hotel who no-one has seen
and with gramophone
records being delivered.
William Bourne's tour of
Europe was a major success.
He created such a clamour that members
of the audience were left collapsed
and thrown into a trance by his playing.
How fascinating.
So why is he in hiding?
Don't you think you're
jumping to conclusions
based on a coincidence of dates?
William Bourne was known for his
fondness of riddles and ciphers.
Ma'am...
Minnie is asleep.
She was becoming anxious whenever
she mentioned her sisters,
so I told her to close her
eyes and take slow breaths.
Now every time she utters the
word "sister", she falls to sleep.
Oh, my post office.
Oh, Miss Lane!
The latest ladies' apparel to be paraded
in order that clients
might enjoy the enticement.
Oh, but I cannot afford
the latest fashions.
There, Miss Pratt.
It is only that...
I would be personally grateful if
you two were to favour the occasion.
Miss Pratt, I am a man.
I cannot look at women wearing clothes.
What Thomas means is
ladies exhibiting enticing attire.
Thomas...
you and I have passed the time of
day, every day, for so many years.
It would mean a great deal
to me if you were to come.
Perhaps, if you were to come for
the refreshments and a waltz...
or two, you might avert
your eyes during the parade?
Thomas, if you are not
required to actually look...
It is for a good cause. Yours
and your sister's business.
Oh, I am glad you can
see things that way.
My sister will need...
will welcome your support.
Pearl is not as invincible as
she cares to present herself.
The event will be quite
a trial for her...for us.
In the spirit of neighbourliness...
Margaret?
I suppose we might oblige.
You have always been
such cherished friends.
And will continue to be so.
We are not going anywhere.
William Bourne here in
Candleford. Think of it.
There is something in that cipher
Miss Lane is concealing from us.
It is a message between Mr
Reppington and Miss Lane.
What business is it of ours?
Do you not see the import of this?
There is a newspaper
recently launched in London.
It has a readership
of one million people.
I shared your excitement, Daniel.
The sending of those telegrams,
the idea that this great man is
in our midst, the mystery of why,
but what we do with that... William
Bourne is loved by many people.
They want to know, like
us, what has become of him.
What is wrong with telling them?
Because he does not want to be found!
I can see what you're thinking, Daniel.
A national newspaper.
This could be the making of you.
Of course you will think that.
But is that who you want to be?
I hoped you might come out.
Do you walk out here every night?
Or was it the thought
that I might return?
Perhaps I am as curious
about you as you are about me.
I have been wondering... why
did you come to Candleford?
You could hide in Venice,
Niagara Falls,
Timbuktu.
HE LAUGHS
You underestimate the
delight of your town.
What I see from my window is...
...wondrously English.
My father used to say that
Candleford was peculiarly English.
That was why he stayed.
Opened the post office and the forge.
Why he poured himself
into the life of this town.
Ah-ha!
Now I understand
- you were born into the hub of the town, hm?
The mixing pot of other people's lives.
I like to tell the tale of how
he took to his bed for nine days
so that I might find my
feet behind the counter.
And it was the making
of you, Dorcas Lane.
The comings and goings. The
letters and their telltale signs.
You have a regular delivery
of gramophone records.
Is music a comfort to you?
You assume I need to be comforted.
Can you truly tell me
that you are contented...
William?
If I'm uncovered, I'll vanish.
I don't think you want to do that.
I believe you came to
Candleford for a reason.
There is a journalist here in town.
Daniel Parish, I know about him.
He is an eager young
man with certain talents.
I suspect he might
uncover more about you.
The time has come for me to leave.
Then your life will always be so.
Moving on don't you see?
Seeking out another hiding place.
Are you so determined to avoid yourself?
My neighbours are curious about me...
but when you look up at my window,
what I see in those eyes is a challenge.
You find my decision unacceptable.
Perhaps because what you
do seems to me to be...
against nature.
And do you suppose that your...kindness
will restore me to my former life?
Is that what you hope?
Not your former life, no.
Some kind of life,
perhaps. Here, perhaps.
To go from a life so
full of riches to this...
something happened.
Something must have happened.
TWIG SNAPS
Someone's there.
Let me go.
Miss Lane!
Fine night. The moon's up.
If I could just explain
to Mr Purpletush,
it's worse for them as
has two in the house.
Two to feed, two to keep warm.
OWL HOOTS
DEEP BREATH
ALL LAUGH
Did you put him up to this?
Who?
The soldier, did you encourage him?
Mrs Timmins, I have...
The note left on the tree.
"I cannot leave you alone."
Do you wish to cause
trouble for me? Is that it?
I promise you I know nothing.
I saw you talking and laughing
with those soldiers. I saw you.
I only smiled at him.
A smile is no more than a smile.
I had no intention of
inviting him to pursue me.
Mrs Timmins... I'm a married
woman, I love my husband.
I will not let you make
trouble with my family.
Come with me now and
speak with the soldier.
Let him tell you that
I have no part in this.
I know what you think of me,
but I will not permit
you to accuse me of this.
Now come with me.
Oh, Lordy.
Mrs Timmins, if this man is bothering
you then let me confront him.
No, not that.
Not you.
I am such a fool.
Alfie, I'm waiting for the
eggler. Have you seen him?
The eggler's always late. It's his legs.
What you waiting in Lark Rise for
when he comes regular to Candleford?
Because...Miss Lane has decided
to make caper mayonnaise.
The truth of it is, Alfie, I
ain't waiting for the eggler.
Who you waiting for, then?
For you. But I'm here.
I know.
Am I allowed to talk about your ma
being gone and your pa being gone
while the children are listening?
You just did.
Will you take her?
Go on.
Only, there's a lot of
people gone, ain't they?
When my first sister vanished away,
afterwards, not before,
I saw the signs of it.
Then when my second sister
was preparing, I could feel it.
But how do you stop it, Alfie?
How?
When you know someone is going to
go, and people will be so hurt...
...what do you do to stop it happening?
Who are you talking about? Who's going?
Minnie?
Minnie.
She's asleep!
Minnie, what kind of way
is this to arrive home?
It's a disgrace, ma'am.
It ain't her fault, Miss Lane.
She sort of passed out is all.
We are about to hear the
wonder that is William Bourne.
CLASSICAL PIANO MUSIC PLAYS
BELL RINGS
BREATHES DEEPLY
MUSIC FADES
Her name was Isobel Bonner.
She was something of a London
socialite, a rare beauty.
She died on the 4th of June.
The very next day, William Bourne
cancelled his tour and vanished.
Why would her death
make him go into hiding?
There was talk.
Mrs Bonner would turn up wherever
William Bourne was playing.
She was married for 31
years to Sir Charles Bonner.
How long were Isobel
Bonner and William Bourne...
...known to one another?
Since before she was married.
She was called Mostyn then, not Bonner.
Yes, of course.
Must you always make
bedlam when I am busiest?
Ow! Give it! Frank was using it first.
No, he wasn't. Yes, he was.
Can you settle these children of yours?
They are beyond me. Away.
Now, there's a welcome home(!) Wash
your hands before you set the table.
What kind of example do you wish to set?
(I've been watching you.)
I can't stay away from you.
Didn't you say there wasn't
enough romance and mystery?
Em?
Em, what is it?
If I could go back...
...I would look at
that hole in your sock.
Holes. Each foot had its own glory.
I would not chide you.
I would not call my own husband ugly.
Robert, I'm so sorry.
If there's one thing
I know about women...
...I don't have an
inkling how they work.
Use the back of your hand to protect...
The idea is the garment must be laid
out for the model to step quickly into.
This is such hot work. Shall
I fetch us some cooling liquid?
Ma'am, I know it ain't my business.
I want to say something about...someone
without saying one certain word.
Someone who is not a brother.
You have one, and I have two.
And that person,
when they ain't here, then you
wish you'd been kinder to them.
Look at her!
Heaven help us. Give her the liquid!
I have been no more
than a silly, vain...
I have been wishing for
things a girl wishes for.
Not a woman, married with children.
Why can't I accept that?
You've done nothing wrong.
But it might not look that way
when Daniel Parish tells the tale.
Then you must go to him.
Explain truthfully.
Tell him you made a mistake.
The soldier did not send the note.
I will be putting myself
entirely at his mercy.
Like it or not, you're
already at his mercy.
For the first time in my life,
I feel like I want to run.
If my husband hears any of this...
Oh, I can't bear it.
I want to vanish away.
But you won't.
You will stay.
You will face Daniel,
because you're a brave woman
and because you have to.
Ma'am, would you do something for me?
If I fall asleep,
would you slap my face?
Minnie, you must try harder,
or Pearl will dismiss you.
Miss Pearl's fearsome, ain't she?
Pearl is the way she is because
of the way the world is...
...to her.
When someone leaves someone,
and that someone don't say
they're going or why or anything,
it hurts like no other hurt.
You know.
How do you know?
I see you getting ready
for it. I seen it before.
If my sisters hadn't gone,
then I could talk to them
and then I wouldn't feel so deserted.
Oh, Minnie...
You're right.
Pearl was abandoned once by our father.
He went out one day and he
simply did not come home.
What he did was...
selfish and cowardly and ruinous.
It was beyond forgiveness.
If I were to go, it would be the same.
I didn't see that.
I would be tormented by
thoughts of my own cruelty.
I suppose I've been indulging a wish.
A fickle little wish.
I will stay.
Of course I will stay.
How could I ever have
considered any other possibility?
KNOCKING
Miss Lane, come on in. Lizzie,
fetch Miss Lane a drink.
I was passing nearby on my
ride out and I thought...
I wanted to tell you that I did get two
pounds from Mr Reppington for you.
And I wanted to thank you
for bringing Minnie home.
I was glad to help, Miss Lane.
Alf, you have a lot to
contend with at the moment.
I know how fond of you Minnie is and...
she is most impressionable.
I wanted to ask you to be careful.
Miss Lane, what I been
taught the hard way is
life ain't ours to
map out how we want it.
We take the joys it gives
us and be glad for 'em.
What use am I to my sisters
if I am miserable the day long?
Minnie...makes me laugh.
She makes me smile. That's all.
Mr Reppington didn't give you that two pounds
Please take it, Alf.
And bow my head every time
I come in the post office?
I shan't.
I have a task that needs doing tonight.
I need several men.
Perhaps if I were to pay you...?
MEN GRUNT
I borrowed it from a neighbour.
Lady Whiteleaf.
If she knew what I wanted it
for, she would be beside herself.
It's excessive. Intrusive.
But since it is here,
why don't you play?
Please?
I felt I had to do something.
Don't you miss composing?
What makes you think I've stopped, hm?
It's here, in my head.
But you don't write it
down, you don't play it.
What does it matter?
It matters, because
you are not in hiding.
You are in mourning.
I feel it on you like a sickness,
but you cannot admit it.
You are so utterly
resolved to deny yourself.
I said that you found my
isolation unacceptable.
Well, I was wrong.
You find it unbearable.
I am nothing to you,
and yet you pursue me as though your life depended on it
- why?
Why that look in the eye?
The fire in the voice?
Is what you did so unforgivable?
Yes!
Isobel Mostyn was a Candleford girl.
She married well
- Sir Charles Bonner.
Do you hope to see her
ghost from your window?
All right.
I could have married her,
but I was too in love with my
music and my glittering career,
and I kept her
dangling... for too long...
...and she married.
And then I knew.
Oh, God, then I knew.
She wouldn't leave her husband.
She couldn't hurt him.
But you continued to see one another?
Continued to love one another.
Love does not do this to a man.
It is guilt which crushes us.
It is shame which holds us in the dark.
My father...
I'm not your father!
You're determined to draw me out. Why?
You think that you're doing
it for me, but you're not.
You're doing it for you.
My father died so young.
He was not given enough time,
and you...
you refuse to live.
Play!
I cannot bear that you
deny yourself. Play!
If I did...
...I'd be doing it for you.
I won't do that.
I will tell you why.
My father was the heart of this town.
Life poured through him.
And then there were
times when it didn't.
He withdrew.
He was gone from me for days,
and I could not comprehend it.
I could not draw him out.
And it pained me like nothing else.
Like the fear was in my blood...
...and it would never end.
And then the day did
come when he was gone...
...and the pain was the
same, and the fear unbearable.
So, yes...you would be
doing it for me, I admit it.
I cannot bear your isolation.
But it is not yours to bear.
It's mine.
And I'll be true to it.
Mrs Timmins.
Mr Parish, my husband wrote that note.
The soldier did not write it.
I thought you should know.
Of course.
I hope you did not
speak with the soldier.
Things are confused enough.
I can understand that you might be
concerned what people think of you.
What I might think of you.
You might think you can destroy me
and perhaps you can.
If you hadn't noticed I saw you
when you smiled at the soldier,
when you received the note,
what would you have made of it?
I don't know, I...
Robert.
I would have seen that...
...Robert left it for me.
I know you will not feel safe
with me having this knowledge.
There's nothing I can do about that.
I broke my promise to
you about seeing Laura.
Any assurances I make
will be of no value to you.
Let me say this.
I have no wish to make mention
of this business to anyone.
Time will tell you I mean
you no harm, Mrs Timmins.
You shall see.
I was hard on you, wasn't I?
So you decided to write it, then?
Of course.
The world deserves to know that
Candleford is a place of renown
since the sisters Pratt have
"stolen a march on Oxford
"and introduced the A-line
skirt hot from Paris".
I ain't got no intention of dying.
Good.
Neither have I.
Not yet.
Twister...
...every wife and every husband
comes to this in the end.
Who's to be the one left behind?
Who's to bear the sorrow
and the loneliness?
What I can't stand is I don't
want it to be me that goes,
and I don't want you to go neither.
Well...we ain't there yet,
and fretting about it don't
make the best of what we have.
Now, does it?
Fretting's what I'm best at.
Oh! Cabbage!
Cabbage.
Mr Reppington, if I may...
I have been considering what
you said about my motivations.
You are right.
It is not my business how you choose
to spend the remainder of your days.
I am glad to hear that. So may we
part as friends in mutual respect?
Yes, but I'm not quite done.
You said that what you saw
in my face was a challenge.
I believe you want that challenge.
That is why you sent me a note.
No, a cipher.
Playful, enticing.
You want the game. You
wish me to draw you out.
Your world was sealed.
You broke that seal.
Perhaps I simply wanted
to prove you wrong.
If that is what you believe...
if you truly want to know,
let me put you to one more test.
If it does not turn your thinking,
I will leave you to
enjoy your isolation.
# The lark in the morning
she rises off her nest
# She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her breast
# And like the jolly ploughboy
she whistles and she sings
# She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her wings
# Oh, Roger, the ploughboy
He is a dashing blade... #
SONG CONTINUES IN BACKGROUND
I cannot hold a tune.
I cannot rescue you.
Words cannot save you.
But music may.
#..She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her breast
# And like the jolly ploughboy
she whistles and she sings
# She goes home in the evening
with the dew all on her wings
# One evening coming home
from the rakes of the town
# The meadows been all green
and the grass had been cut down
# As I should chance to
tumble all in the new-mown hay
# "Oh, it's kiss me now or never,
love," this bonnie lass did say. #
Mystery and romance.
There's something in that kiss.
Something new.
APPLAUSE AND MUSIC
I heard that Mr Reppington left already.
Yes.
But we are here, so we
will enjoy ourselves.
And now a superb evening
gown in pale green silk.
It has a curved decollete with
an elaborately-beaded corsage.
HE STARTS TO PLAY
MUSIC CONTINUES
MUSIC FADES
APPLAUSE
Ruby.
Mr Bourne.
May I say, your playing...
What's Candleford done
to deserve such a wonder?
Oh, please...!
Miss Pratt, forgive me
for being so forthright,
but I have been watching
the town through my window,
and I feel I know you,
and I know that these are
perilous times for you.
And Miss Lane has told me a
little of your circumstances.
Pontefract.
I cannot abandon my sister.
You don't have to. Face her. Tell her.
Oh, that's impossible.
I let my moment pass.
Ruby, dear Ruby...
Pearl might be more prepared for
this possibility than you can imagine.
Mmm. I've bitterly regretted
my decision a thousand times.
MUSIC AND CONVERSATION
Pearl, do you think we
might step aside to speak?
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruby.
This is the worst possible moment!
Look at them! They are
ripe for the picking!
Pearl, please.
I am leaving.
You cannot possibly abandon the party
when there's business to be done.
I'm leaving Candleford.
I'm leaving you.
Whatever we say to one
another now, I am going.
I will travel tonight.
I had plans to vanish,
I was so afraid you would
dissuade me, prevent me.
I realise now I cannot
do that. I must face you.
I am taking up a new
life... with Lionel.
I always knew this day would come.
I cannot bear the
thought of hurting you.
But you can bear the thought
of remaining even less.
APPLAUSE
Believe me, there is much
about our life here that I love.
But...I am a woman.
I want to be more than a
sister, more than a seamstress.
I long for...
an embrace.
Is that so bad?
I dream of a family of my own.
Isn't that natural?
It is more than natural.
It is beautiful.
I promise you...
if the day ever comes,
it will be you I turn to,
because I know you are my
dearest friend in this world.
Go.
Please, go.
LAURA: 'Kinship spins threads around us,
'but there comes a time
when we must break free.
'Who knows for how long?
'There was an old local saying -
'"Alone you're nobody."
'Miss Lane often said
that the key to life
'was that people need people.'
All I need now is a story to
launch the Candleford Chronicle.
Who is old peg leg?
A veteran.
From the Crimean War.
What is it you seek to achieve, Daniel?
Justice.
For an old man.
How's a man like you come to have
such a fine bottle of brandy, Arthur?
But why does he live as he does if...
He ain't the man we thought.
Us.
What are you doing?