The Duchess of Duke Street (1976–1977): Season 2, Episode 11 - Where There's a Will - full transcript

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Ah...choo.

Mrs. Trotter?

How did...I mean...

Your scent.

I heard you playing, John.

I hope you don't mind.

I just blundered in here.

I tripped over the piano stool,

and, well, I found
this lovely thing.

You didn't say, did you?



What?

That you had a
piano hidden away.

Ah, well, sorry.
I didn't know you played.

Oh, I don't play. I strum a bit.

F-for a moment...

That is, it reminded me.

Bad memory?

I...

I see.

Curious, isn't it,

for me to say, "I see"?

Curious and, well,
faintly ridiculous.

I must coin a new word.

No, no. Don't stop playing.



Are you sure?

Yeah, yeah. I'm quite sure.

Oh, sorry to be dusting

in the afternoon, Mrs. Trotter.

You can dust when you like,

Mrs. Davies.

Well, I don't like...

makes no odds to me.

We won't be here much longer.

Don't worry about it.

MAJOR: No, Fawcett, no.

Lloyd George may be
a man of dynamic force,

but he's not a party man.

Yes, I'm inclined to agree.

I felt he gulled the electors.

Well, he got us through the war.

Don't let's forget that.

But not a man for peace, hmm?

One feels a lack of...

..of confidence.

Oh, that dust!

Oh, the stairs
were thick with it.

I can't get round to everything.

I wasn't criticizing.
I was just stating.

What was it she
said, Mrs. Davies,

when you was on the stairs?

I think you ought to
be in bed with that cold.

It's just the dust
on the stairs.

I never could get on with dust.

Go home, auntie.

But the bathroom
on the first floor...

It can wait another day or two.

Oh, no.

It can wait, Mrs. Davies.

You'll do better in bed
keeping your germs to yourself.

Yes, go home, auntie.

Get into bed with
a nice hot drink.

Mr. Merriman, can we
spare her a drop of brandy?

Anything to stop that
sneezing and coughing

around the place.

MRS. DAVIES: Very
grateful, I'm sure.

I'm certain she said "We."

I'm certain she said,

"We won't be here much longer."

We?

Yes.

Why should she say "We"?

Well, that's what I mean, Mary.

Bills, you were saying.

Oh, yes. Well,
there's this month's.

And the month before that.

And the month before that.

Oh, my goodness.

Well, I thought this
month's was heavy like,

a lot carried over.

I can't make sense of it at all.

Yeah, no sense at all, is there?

No sense at all...

In anything.

There's a very nasty one

from Mr. Foster, the butcher's.

I've never known
him nasty before.

Letting us have his
best all through the war,

"But 6 months outstanding
is no joke," he says,

"And the war's over now."

All right, all right.
Give them here.

I'll pay what I can.

Oh, blimey.

A note here from the gas.

They're cutting us off

if I don't come up
with something soon.

We can't manage without gas.

Oh, I'm tired of it all, Mary.

MARY: We're all tired.

This hotel is finished.

Oh.

Finished.

Everything I
hoped for... finished.

I want to leave this place.

Don't care if I never
see another hotel

as long as I live,

which won't be too long, I hope.

Ma'am!

There's a gentleman here
wants a nice comfortable business

as a sideline for his wife,

"Keep her happy," he says.

I know his name.

Made his money in munitions.

Well, his wife is
welcome to this place.

Lavatory on the first
floor is stuck, ma'am.

I don't want to know about it.

One on the top floor isn't
what it used to be, either.

Well, don't come crying to
me. Get someone to see to it.

Who?

Well, can't you do it?

MERRIMAN: Me, ma'am?
Lavatories are not my province.

Well, it's time
you learnt, then.

The place is falling to pieces.

What am I going to
tell the major, Mary?

It has nothing to
do with the major.

He never uses the
first floor anyway.

About selling up.

Oh.

You told me.

Yeah, well, this is
the major's home.

We've all got our homes here.

Yeah, but he's old, Mary.

You'll find other
jobs, other homes.

Mr. Merriman's old, ma'am,

and there's not many
good jobs to be found now.

Servants are
going out of fashion,

and I wouldn't fancy
a job in a factory

if I could get one.

Ethel is in the dispense.

Ethel?

Oh, Ethel.

She lost her
husband, didn't she?

She's asking to see you.

What does she want?

I ain't got no spare cash.

Work.

Work? I'll give her a reference,

but that's it.

Work...oh, well.

Oh, for God's sake, Mary.

Stop looking like a ghost.

It's not my fault the
place is falling apart.

Mary, you don't say nothing yet.

Oh, sorry, Mrs.
Trotter, but I was just off.

Would you like me to
take the curtains down

in number 6 next time I'm here?

And what's wrong

with the curtains in number 6?

All holes, madam, where
they was pulled across.

Well, these young officers...

leave the curtains.

Leave them?

Leave them.
I like those holes.

Finished. As a war leader,

he was first-class.

No one would wish to deny it.

God.

The peace will be a
damn sight more difficult

than the war.

Don't let's be

pessimistic, Fawcett.

I just can't get work.

My money's nearly all gone.

I can't live on my pension.

We're all so upside-down
at the moment, Ethel.

Not even open. No guests.

You will have.

Look, come tomorrow.

She'll see you tomorrow. Yes?

Come tomorrow.

The man who invented
lavatories should be shot.

All those gadgets.

Mary, what was
Mrs. Trotter saying?

Nothing special.

Well, she told you not
to tell anyone, didn't she?

So I can't tell you, can I?

MARY: It's getting
in your chest.

I hope you've not brought
the flu into the place,

along with everything
else we have to put up with.

Well, go home, auntie,

and straight into bed

with Mr. Merriman's...

Eh? What's that?

Mr. Merriman's brandy.

Oh.

I'm off this moment, now.

Mr. Starr, perhaps
you have a bright idea

about cleaning the
first-floor lavatory.

Not my job. The door is my job.

Stopped up, is it?

Auntie, go home.

Well, I'll soon see to that.

Oh, thank you very much.

Oh, no trouble at all.

No. You're going home.

I'll just pop up there now.

Home.

I haven't finished my tea.

All right.

Oh.

Now...

What was Mrs.
Trotter on about Mary?

Oh, just a muddle
with the bills.

She has no right

to have a single bill unpaid.

I don't understand it.

I'll tell you something, now.

But then I've no
head for figures...

I'll tell you
something straight.

She's got a pile
of checks in that

desk of hers that
she's never cashed.

MARY: What?
MERRIMAN: Eh?

Never cashed. All those officers

come in here on leave,

and she hasn't cashed

a single one of their checks,

not right through the war.

Been prying, Mr. Starr?

No. I happen to have
a pair of good ears.

I heard the major
and Mrs. Trotter...

Eavesdropping.

A servant's ears function
like anyone else's, Mary,

and he can't stop them at will.

What else did you
hear, Mr. Starr?

Well, they was
crossing the hall,

and I was reading
me paper with Fred,

and I heard the major say,

"But you can't hang
on to them forever."

And she said, "I'll burn
them before I cash them."

She will, too.
Headstrong female.

She's going to
be in a pretty mess

if she don't watch it.

What happens to us, eh?

I ask you, what happens to us?

It's only me, dad.

Louisa. Cor.

I thought it was your mum,

and me with no kettle on.

Whew.

Oh. Give us your
coat and sit down.

Ta.

She's at the hospital, of course.

A cup of tea?

No, dad.

Yes.

The hospital.

She keeps going, and there's...

..nothing she can do.

Upsets Arthur,
and it upsets her.

Did I ask you if you
want a cup of tea?

No, I won't, thanks.

Boy, you're looking very peaky.

A cup of tea might buck you up.

Go on.

No. I want more than tea.

Yeah?

Yeah. I want the impossible.

Don't we all?

I want to go back
to before the war.

Ah.

Can't turn back
the clocks, girl,

and I should know.

How's Arthur?

Well as can be expected.

I ain't been in to see
him since the first time.

No.

So blooming bad-tempered.

I shouldn't say
that. It's not his fault.

Yeah, well, I don't go anymore.

I know he's my son.

I know he lost his legs

for his country,

but he's like a wild animal now.

I don't know what to say to him.

Well, he looks at me

as if he'd cut me throat

if he had a knife to handle,

or run me down
with his wheelchair.

I think your mother
enjoys the danger.

Don't joke, dad.

Joke?

I'm not joking, Lou.

He was very proud
of his strength, he was.

He'd be better off dead.

Dad, I'm thinking of
giving up the Bentinck.

Eh?

I'm going to sell the Bentinck.

Oh.

I mean, why?

I mean, that
place, it's your life.

Yeah. That's the trouble.

Trouble?

It's dying.

Now, listen,

you're still a young woman.

I'm old as the hills.

And what have I got to live for?

Oh, my dear.

Don't you give up, Lou.

If you give up, what have I got?

I know I'm a selfish
blighter, but...

Oh, dad.

Hey, come on.

Have a good cry, eh?
Do you good.

No. I can't cry.

I've got this lump in me throat.

I can't cry.

I've got this...

These lumps that are stuck here.

Food won't go down hardly.

Yes. You've lost weight.

Gotten like a wand.

Oh, God.

There's your mum.

Nearly caught on the hop.

Oh. You're here.

No tea made?

ERNEST: Oh, well, the uh...

..kettle's just coming up.

I like me own chair.

When I come in
tired and worn-out,

I like me own chair.

Thanks, dad.

Well, aren't you going
to ask after your brother?

How is he?

No better. No worse.

What's going to
happen to him, eh?

What's going to happen to him?

Well, I suppose he'll
have to have artificial legs

and make the best of it.

At least they do better than
the old peg legs these days.

How can you say

such terrible things?

Well, he was one of many.

But he was such

a big, strong proud man.

Yeah, well, so
were a lot of others.

You're so hard. You're so hard.

Ah, soft you used to call me,

silly and soft.

Your own son.

Yeah, well he'll just have
to get on with it.

We've all got to...

..get on with our infirmities.

We shouldn't have had no war.

Then we wouldn't have had these

terrible things to contend with.

Well, there was a war.

If all those lovely lads

had used their loaves,

they'd have said
no and kept out of it.

How could they, dad?

He told me not to go again.

He said he doesn't want
me mooning over him.

Said to forget he ever happened.

How can I forget him?

I said for him to
come home here.

He said he hoped he'd die first.

What's going to happen to him?

Oh, when the hell

are you going to give
me that cup of tea?

Oh, it's drawing.

I don't know why
you have to go on

torturing yourself.

It's my son,

my only son.

Yeah, and a rough,

nasty sort of bloke at that.

Well, what do you want, Louisa?

You haven't been
here for donkey's years.

ERNEST: Yeah, well,
she just popped in to...

I'm selling the Bentinck.

What did she say, Ernest?

I'm selling the Bentinck.

Oh, my God.
One thing after the other.

You can't sell up.
What'll you do?

What'll we do?

We depend on that
little bit you give us.

You won't go short.

Did milord leave you rich, then?

Oh, look, Lou, don't go.

I mean, you...

you haven't been here

a couple of minutes.

Oh, look,

have a cup of tea, eh?

No, I won't. Thanks, dad.

Going to have a spot
of dinner with the major.

I've come home.
That's her trouble.

She can't go to see
her brother, and she

can't stay two minutes in
the same room as her mother.

My dear, you've
hardly eaten at all.

Eat up, Louisa.

It really is quite good.

That's the first time

I've heard you
tell a lie, Major.

The kitchen's on its last legs,

like everything
else in this place.

It won't do, my
dear.

Mary tells me you've hardly
eaten a square meal for days,

and you're beginning
to look like it.

It absolutely won't do, my dear.

The lovely Mrs. Trotter...

famous doyenne of the Bentinck.

Oh, stop that, Major.

I'm giving the place up.

I'm selling up,

lock, stock, and barrel.

I'm sorry.

Oh, for God's sake,

don't just sit there.

I'm trying not to believe you.

Trying?

I - feel in my bones that you
mean what you say, but I...

..I'm trying hard
not to believe it.

Yeah, well, your
bones are right.

But I promise you

I won't clinch nothing

until I've seen
you safely settled.

Louisa, how dare you?

I'll make sure you have

somewhere nice to go.

How dare you?

How dare you presume?!

Presume?

How dare you presume?!

Damn it all. I am not
some old - Chelsea pensioner

to be ordered here and
there as you think fit!

Major, I only wanted

to see you settled and...

When the time comes, I
shall find my own bivouac.

Major.

We are good friends,

but there are
limits to friendship.

Don't break the rules.

I do beg your pardon.

I do, really.

But seeing you had
somewhere to go

has been very much on me mind.

Of course you must
find your own home.

Please come sit down

and finish your meal.

I will return to the table
on one condition only.

What's that?

That you eat your dinner, too.

I surrender.

Please don't think me ungrateful

for your solicitous thoughts.

No. I was stupid.

You know what a
Sergeant Major I am.

Old gentlemen are
very touchy, my dear.

Now.

Now that we are
reasonably calm again,

perhaps you will tell me

why you were
thinking of selling up.

You stayed here through the war,

through rationing,
through the bombing,

through the raids.

Why this sudden volte-face?

Debts.

Debts?

I owe everybody -

But surely...

- and now the lease is up.

But people will come
again like they used to.

It's no longer needed
as a convalescent home.

You have only 3 officers left.

Yeah, well, when they go,

I'm closing.

Impossible.

You can't do this to yourself.

I no longer matter to meself.

What about the staff...?

..Mary, Starr, Merriman?

They'll find other places.

The country is in turmoil.

You can't put
people on the streets

at a time like this.

We need the things we know.

Major, I just ain't
got the heart to

put the place back
on its feet again.

I just got no heart.

Now, listen to me. Have
you cashed those checks?

I don't want to
discuss them checks.

You haven't, of course,
but you absolutely must.

Most of the men

who wrote them checks are dead.

They wouldn't want you in need.

I didn't cash them
when they wrote them,

and I won't cash them now.

It'd be like digging up graves.

But this is unreasonable.

I know you have
suffered a grievous blow.

Poor Charlie.

But - I mean, what
would he think of you now?

The place is too
full of memories.

Are you a coward?

Oh, it's difficult to know

what that word means anymore.

The Bentinck has had its time.

The people who
came here are dead...

..or changed.

And I've changed.

Go away for a week or two.

You haven't had a
holiday since August 13.

Have one now.

I'll take command here.

I'll see about
cashing those checks.

You won't have to
worry about them,

upset yourself.

Louisa.

Like all our dreams, eh?

STARR: Well, you
see, Captain Fawcett,

I can't agree

the liberals are finished.

All right, so the Labor Party

is gaining strength.

It all boils down to the
same thing, don't you think?

Who rules the country?

I mean, really
rules the country.

The civil service,
don't you think?

Money. Money rules.

Always has. Always will.

Against money we can do nothing.

Talking of money,
did I hear right?

Is Mrs. Trotter selling up?

Oh.

Sorry about that.

There's a bit of
a tangle starting.

Hang on.

I really must learn
to do this on my own.

Mary says I can put it
over the back of a chair.

Yes, I've seen my mother

do that years ago.

Selling up did you say, sir?

Oh, a snatch of
conversation I heard.

Mrs. Trotter on the...

Oh, but I mustn't start rumors.

Damn bad form, hearing things.

Still, I can't help it.

I'm like a dog...

ears quivering, nose quivering.

Yes, if dogs could talk,

we'd learn a thing or two, eh?

You know, I can almost
see with my elbows and feet.

Really. I'm actually

beginning to see
obstacles with them.

You know, I can't think

Mrs. Trotter will part
with the Bentinck.

I mean, she's
history, isn't she?

Heavens, my mother
came here with her lover.

Good Lord. Really?

Oh, dear, no.
Forget I said that.

I'm becoming a regular gossip.

Not much else to
do, but I mustn't get

like the French ladies at
the foot of the guillotine,

now, must I?

Are we near the end, Starr?

Oh, yes. Not far to go.

It's very soothing,
this business.

The mind free,
and the hands busy.

But I must learn to
type. I want to write.

I won't do it well, of course.

I don't do anything
spectacularly well, but...

but there are things
I want to put down.

Yes. I could learn to
type at St. Dunstan's.

I'm getting on awfully well

with the jolly old
braille, you know.

That was Mary, wasn't it?

Yes, sir.

Her light step and that
lovely fresh smell of soap.

She's beautiful, isn't she? Yes.

Like the hills she comes from.

You'll make a damned poet

the way you're shaping, John.

Oh, do you know the Welsh hills?

Can't say I do.

I was there in '17.

Gunnery course...
Brecon Beacons.

They made a great
impression on me, those hills.

Nice to look back on.

Ha ha. As it were.

Why don't you go home, auntie?

No. I can't do that.
I get all suffocated

in that little room
day and night.

No one to talk to.

Is it that Spanish flu?

Of course not. Hot honey
and lemon for you, auntie.

No. I don't want
to be any trouble.

I'll see if Mrs. Cochrane
has a lemon to spare.

They had them in
the market yesterday.

I'll go.

No, look, Ethel.

Come tomorrow.
She'll see you tomorrow.

I keep coming... tomorrow.

Come at lunchtime.
You can eat with us.

Oh.

Mrs. Cochrane, have
you got a lemon to spare?

There's some over there,

but I don't know
when I'll get any more.

Oh, auntie's got an awful cough.

Well, you can take
one, but eke it out.

Thanks.

No meat again.

Oh, dear.

It's not my fault. She still
hasn't paid that bill yet,

so it's vegetable pie.

You have to make the most of it.

You've heard, have you?

Heard?

About her selling up.

Yes, I heard. She's
thinking about it.

She was down here
last night dropping hints,

so I tackled her.

I like to know where I am.

I can't stand people
trying to be tactful.

I suppose she told you first.

She just said she
was thinking of it.

Thank the Lord people
always want good cooking,

even if it is only
vegetable pie.

She's giving me a
good recommendation.

I shall try the Richmond
down the Strand.

I don't fancy a private house.

Goodness knows what will
happen to you lot, though.

You're all that thick with her.

I think people should
stand on their own two...

Hmph.

This place is like a morgue.

Two rooms occupied,
and all they want is coffee.

And what you think you're
doing here, I don't know.

People should keep
their germs to themselves.

Then we wouldn't have
to suffer these epidemics.

What good do
you think that'll do?

A bit of honey and hot lemon,

and it'll soothe the cough.

Well, have you heard?

Yes.

Heard what? Talking in riddles.

She's thinking of selling up.

I take it you're
referring to Mrs. Trotter

and not the cat's mother.

Mrs. Trotter is considering
selling this hotel.

Never. She'd as soon
sell her soul to the devil.

She's selling it.

Are you telling me that...

Mary, surely she
would have told us.

She's selling, Mr. Merriman.

No! No, I don't believe it.

She told Mrs. Cochrane definite.

Giving her a reference.

Told Mrs. Cochrane?

Told her and not told us?

Mrs. Cochrane asked her direct.

Here we are, auntie.

Drink this up slowly.

Not to tell us. To let
us hear by chance.

Selfishness. That's
sheer selfishness.

Drink it up, auntie.
There's a good girl.

Auntie! Mr. Starr.

STARR: Oh, get
her to bed, I'd say.

Come on.

No, don't send me home, cariad.

Don't send me home.
I'll be all on my own.

Put her in Ethel's
old room. Come on.

Come on.

I'll never work no more.

Who wants a
broken-down old woman?

Oh, you're not that, auntie.

I don't believe it.

I don't believe it.

LOUISA: All right,
that's the lot, Mr. Bream.

Front stairs, back stairs,

royal suite, the lot.

Yes, yes.

Thank you, Mrs. Trotter.

A bit shabby, I'm afraid.

Aren't we all, eh?

It's sturdy, and
the staff are good.

Well, I will mention
that to my client,

though he may very well
wish to use his own people.

He's traveling from
Scotland tomorrow

with his wife.

They've been holidaying.

Could I arrange for
them to call on Friday?

Yeah, yeah. That
will be all right.

Ta.

I thought you'd be in.

I just want you to know, madam,

that I am not a commodity.

Now, what you do
with your own hotel

is your affair,

but Fred and I are
not here to be sold

with the bricks and mortar...

Now, look here, Starr.

Nor, I'm quite sure,

is the rest of the staff.

Frankly, we all think

you're making a mistake.

Well, I'm very grateful
for your kind advice, Starr.

I can speak quite freely now

as very soon

I shall not be in your employ,

and I think it's my
duty to say to you

that within one week of selling

the Bentinck, you'll be sorry.

You're not the type to sit

with your hands folded, are you?

What I am and
what I intend to do

have nothing to
do with you, Starr.

That's where you're wrong,

if I may say so.

No, you may not.

I'll say it all the same.

There are certain people

that you employ,
and by doing so,

you take on certain obligations,

certain responsibilities.

I can't answer for
anyone else now, Starr.

I'm speaking now for the rest

of the staff, not for myself.

Fred and I will emigrate.

There's always something

I can turn my hand to,

and Australia attracts me.

Little Mary might very well

find herself in difficulties.

Mr. Merriman and Mrs. Davies

have only got the workhouse

to look forward to.

I shall give them
excellent references

and do me best
to see them settled,

but somehow I don't care.

I can't care.

In that case,

there's nothing more to be said.

It's all over.

Not a hope in
hell of moving her.

Like a stone.
That's it, a stone.

Petrified.

You know what I mean? No life.

I think her brain's going.

How's your auntie?

Oh, not improving at all.

Fading with a fever,

and the cough's
as tight as ever.

I can't get her to
take her medicine.

The doctor said she
must help herself a bit,

but she just lies there.

She says she'll never
get up from that bed.

Not much for her to
get up for, is there?

And there'll be even less soon.

Of course, Mrs. Trotter

might sell your
auntie as a fixture.

Mr. Starr!

She was recommending
us to the bloke

who looked the
place over just now.

Really?

She'll have us on a block

for the highest bidder
before she's done.

It's happened before now.

I told her we were not for sale.

She bought me with the
place when she first came here.

Mind you, I didn't mind.

If I get me cup of
tea in the morning

and a bit of bread and butter

the last thing at night,

I don't give a damn
who runs the ruddy place.

There's no answer
to that, is there?

Except they might not want you.

In that case, I'll
cut me throat.

Ooh, please stop
saying these awful things.

The place isn't sold
yet and may never be.

No, I'm afraid it
won't be long now.

Well, don't say it.

We're for the scrap heap,

and she don't care
a tuppenny toss.

Mr. Starr, we
may be up for sale,

but we must still
keep our manners.

Mrs. Trotter has her
rights as well as us,

and if she feels that
she must have a change,

then it is not up to us

to blackmail her
into staying on.

Blackmail? Where's
the blackmail?

You talking this way!

We've been here for years

and given good service.

The world is changing.

Faithful servants

thrown on the scrap heap.

STARR: I tell you, Mary...

don't! I don't want
to hear any more!

You can't shut your
ears or your eyes

to what's going
on in this place!

Mary?

Mrs. Trotter?

John.

Oh, you're going out.

Yeah.

Mary rushed through just now.

She seemed upset.

That's not like Mary.

No.

Are you all right?

Everything is so quiet just now.

I have this horror
of being alone.

There's this feeling
of suffocation,

like hanging in infinite space.

Do you know what I mean?

Yeah. Perhaps.

You feel it sometimes in
the first moment of sleep

in a strange bedroom.

Out there, it was never quiet,

and one was never
alone, not even in death.

Oh, forgive me.

Would you like a walk?

Oh, I think you'd
rather go alone.

Am I right?

Yeah.

Take care, then.

Everything's serene again here.

Don't be away too long.

Don't be alone too long, eh?

I mean, I ask you.

Eh?

So downright stupid.

Yes?

This endless darning.

Oh.

I mean, why?

Well, you don't like things

all holey, do you?

I've been patching and darning

your clothes forever, it seems.

I don't ask you.

Of course you don't ask
me. You take it for granted.

But...it's you that fusses.

Of course I fuss. Who
else is there to fuss?

I don't know.

You don't care if you go
around looking like a tramp.

Don't bite me head off, Vi.

I haven't done nothing.

Well, that's it, isn't it?

Is it?

You doing nothing.

Morning till night, and
you're doing nothing.

As soon as you get

your 5 bob Lloyd
George, you stop.

Yeah, well, I've retired.

Retired?

I can't retire, can I?

Your darning goes on

even if the whole
world comes to a stop.

Right through
the war it went on,

and me trying to do
me bit for the country,

and you don't lift a
hand to help Arthur.

Arthur? He don't want me to.

Oh, use your loaf.

Just try to use your loaf.

He may push you off,
but he wants your help.

Who's that this time of night?

LOUISA: Only me.

Good Lord. What's got into her?

What you been up to?

Oh, give us your coat, girl.

Oh, thanks, dad.

Here. Sit down

and warm your toes.

You look all bedraggled.

Raining, is it?

Yeah.

What you been up to?

Walking.

Walking? This time of night?

Oh, is it late?

Late? It's past 10:00.

No decent woman's on the streets

past 10:00 at
night, are they, Ern?

Here, what's this?

Thanks, dad.

Well, that's not a
very ladylike way

of doing things.
Here, don't I get some?

Oh, I don't see you need one.

What, after all this darning

and what I go
through with Arthur?

It's what you gave me, Lou,

two Christmases ago.

Oh, yeah.

He's been sitting
on it ever since.

Well, what did you come for?

You haven't been here
in a month of Sundays,

and now you've been
twice in one week.

Very fishy.

Still, I'm glad
you come tonight.

I'm worried about Arthur.

Something's got to be done,

and your father's no use.

I've been up twice
since I last saw you...

to the hospital,

and he won't let me near him.

He says if I come near,

he'll strangle me.

Oh, yes, he did.

He told the nurses,
and the nurses told me.

I've never been so
shamed, since you...

Oh, well. Never mind.
That's all over now.

But a son of mine
to talk like that.

But I can't desert him, can I?

And your father don't care.

Last week... Last week...

ERNEST: Vi, just, you know,

don't keep on.

Last week, he ran his
wheelchair into the lake.

Right into the lake.

They'd left him for two minutes

all alone, nice
and peaceful-like

and wrapped up,

just to get a bit of fresh air,

and he ran his
chair down the slope...

Lucky it was only a foot deep.

He sat there, shrieking at them

to tip him over
and let him drown,

but, I mean, he
couldn't, could he?

Not in a foot of water.

I mean, not unless
they held him under,

and who's going to do that?

So they got him out,

and not even his feet wet.

I mean...

Oh, my God. What
am I talking about?

His feet, I said!

His feet!

Oh!

Lou.

Lou.

His feet, I said.

His feet!

Vi, do be quiet.

You've got another child

as well as Arthur,

and she needs our
help. She needs...

His feet!

She needs...

Oh, shut up, Vi!

My God, we
thought we'd lost you.

You've been gone all day.

Here. Sit down here.

Starr, a hot drink.
Quickly. And brandy.

Hello.

Been following her.
Make sure she got here.

Go home, dad.

Not yet. I want to
know you're all right first.

Yeah, I'm all right.
I'm quite all right.

No. I'm tired.

I'm just tired, that's all.

It's more than that.

We've been looking everywhere.

Another hour, and I would
have contacted the police.

You left no word.

She came to us.

Louisa...

Louisa, Charlie's lawyer...

I don't want to know about it.

MAJOR: He waited for you.

I don't want to know about it!

But you... you must read...

Ah. Foolish of me.

The morning will do. Foolish.

I thought it might do the trick,

you know?

May I have that letter?

I think she ought
to have it now.

All my life...

Oh, go home, dad.

All my life I've stood
by and let people

get on with their
own silly business.

Go home, dad.

I've let your mother

drain the life out of me.

Go home.

No. I'm not going home, Lou.

I'm going to stay
here until I've

knocked some
sense into your head.

Yeah, well, you're too late.

No.

I don't think I am.

You'll have mom after you.

You came to me tonight for help.

I know that, even
if you don't yourself.

And by crikey, girl,

you're going to get that help.

Now, you're going
to open this envelope

here and now in my
presence, and you're

going to read what's inside it.

And I'm not leaving this place

until you have.

Tomorrow,

you're going to start picking up

the threads of your life again.

Now, come on.

Sit down and open it.

Open it, Louisa.

I mean what I say.

Open it, or, by God, I'll
fetch you a sharp one.

Since when was
you a Sergeant Major?

Open it.

CHARLIE, VOICE-OVER:
Louisa, my darling,

Whether the guns
have stopped or not

when you read this letter,

it is written to my beloved,

whom I shall always
think of as my wife,

my love, for all eternity.

The dam has burst,

as you might say.

That letter pulled the plug, and,

I don't know what it was, but...

..it pulled the plug.

Funny I...

..had a feeling something like
that might be in that envelope.

Ought I to...

I think she's best left. Yeah.

But maybe you
should hang about here

for an hour or two, eh?

Yes, of course. Of course.

Yeah, well, I'd best
be getting on me way.

My wife will be having fits.

Starr...

Raise a cab.

I'm...

I'm not given to
sharp words as a rule.

Sharp words?

Yeah.

I've never seen her cry before.

She's always been a
tough little customer.

You wouldn't happen to
have a cigarette, would you?

Turkish.

Ta. Well, I don't smoke,

but, like the crying,

sometimes it's needed.

Yeah. Last time I had a fag

was on me wedding night...

In the bathroom.

Vi was...

Yeah, well, I had a quiet smoke.

It did me the world of good.

CHARLIE, VOICE-OVER:
I am thinking of you there

at our Bentinck,
never despairing,

keeping your pecker
up through it all.

Thoughts of you
have kept me sane.

I sit out here in
this tiny dugout

wet to the skin
like a hunted fox,

and I hear your laughter.

I see your bright eyes.

You must never be
defeated, my dear,

never.

Now, you must use the money.

Don't just stick it in the bank.

Keep the old place
up to the mark.

Make it like new,

like we did when
we first went there.

Remember how we
bought the furniture,

my piano?

We were so ridiculously young.

Use the money, my darling.

Use it.

"To inform you...

£40,000."

Oh, ma'am.

I was very hungry.

Just wanted some water

for auntie's bottle.

What's she doing here?

She's ill, very ill. The flu.

Have you been up all night?

Yeah.

Yeah. You look like it.

She's dying, I think, ma'am.

She's dying.

Dying?

She won't eat.

Won't try to get better.

She wants to die.

Wants to die?

Nothing to live for, she says.

No work, no nothing.

Got work here, hasn't she?

Not for long. I'll have nobody.

She's not dying.

She's not bloody
dying in my hotel.

I'm sick of death.
I'm sick of death.

Where is she?

Ethel's old room.
But it's no use.

She's going cold all over.

Yeah, well, I'll warm her up.

She'll live if I have
anything to do with it.

Come on.

LOUISA: Now,
what's all this I hear?

So cruel.

Cruel? I haven't
started on you yet.

Taking our work away.

Come on. Sit up.

Oh, no.

Do you no good
lying flat like that.

Never clear the phlegm.
Where's the pillows, Mary?

There you are, now.

Do you no good
lying flat at your age.

You'll get pneumonia

before you can
say Jack Robinson.

Oh, go away. Leave
me. Rather die.

Die? No one's dying here.

The sooner you
get that straight,

the better for all of us.

Now, I need you
here in my hotel.

You're the best needlewoman

I ever had.

You really care about the sheets

and the pillowcases.

The curtains in number 6

is waiting for you
to see to them.

But...they said you...

never you mind
what anybody said.

A nice hot cup of tea here.

And then we'll see about

calf's-foot jelly later on, eh?

Here you are.

♪ Love has no charm, ♪

♪ no meaning ♪

♪ Till man has
reached his prime, ♪

♪ Surely, it is so, ♪

♪ You ought to know, ♪

♪ Any time's kissing time. ♪

I'm getting better,

you know.

Who's there? Mrs. Trotter?

Don't you think my
playing's improving?

I might even get
a job in a cinema.

Well, only time will tell.

There'll be
something you can do.

And a working man's
going to need to tell the time,

isn't he?

Oh, thank you.

It's...

It's a quarter
to 11:00, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Yeah.

It belonged to...

It belonged to someone I loved.

Oh, my dear.

I heard you was
learning braille.

I shall keep it always.

Well, time and
tide wait for no man.

I got work to do.

What do you think, Starr?

Very washed-out looking,

but a bit of light in her eye?

Yes. Light.

Been seeing to Mrs.
Davies, I understand.

Got her to take a
bit of refreshment.

Yes, I feel a tiny
flicker of hope.

Yes, I think I can
say quite honestly

that I feel a tiny
flicker of hope.

These are early days, of course.

Yes. Still, a flicker of hope.

Oh, beg your pardon.

LOUISA: Mary's having a lay in,

so you get down
to the kitchen...

Hello. What are you doing here?

Wait a minute.

I've been waiting to see you.

Oh, well, you're
just the girl I want.

Me?

Yeah, you get down the kitchen,

ask Mrs. Cochrane for a tray

for Mrs. Davies...
calf's-foot jelly and that.

And then you take it up to
her. She's in your old room.

Yes.

You're quite sure you're ready
to start work now, are you?

Yes.

Oh, well, that's the
stuff to give the troops.

You go to the laundry.
Get yourself a pinny.

Merriman, I want a cup
of coffee in my room,

11:00 sharp.

Yes, ma'am.

I tell you,

the tradesman's entrance...

and I'm telling you,

I've got an appointment
with Mrs. Trotter.

What is the name?

Holdron. Holdron and Son.

STARR: You are a
tradesman then so I suggest...

All right, Starr.

This man, madam -

Is, I believe, Mr. Holdron.

Yes. And this is the son...Jean.

Oh, a very pretty son,

Mr. Holdron.

Hmm? Huh? Oh, yeah, well,

Harry and Jim went
at Passchendaele,

so I'm learning our Jean
so she can run the business

when I'm gone.

I mean, Holdrons have been going

for 3 generations, isn't they?

Have they?

Yes, they have. And
we can't let it all die

for the want of a pair
of trousers, can we?

So, I've told Jean
to marry a plumber,

and we're set for
another 50 years.

What can I do for
you, Mrs. Trotter?

I want the whole place

redecorated, Mr. Holdron.

Yes? Open your notebook, Jean.

You'd like the modern shades...

LOUISA: No. I want it

left exactly as it was.

The walls and the woodwork

made good where necessary.

New windows where
the frames are gone.

You'd like an
estimate, of course?

I would. Could you
look around now?

Yes, I can. Notebook
at the ready, Jean.

And don't miss nothing, eh?

And when could you start?

I'd like it done as
quickly as possible.

MR. HOLDRON: Ah, now,

time's a bit tricky,
as you might say.

It's only me and
uncle George left,

apart from Jean here,

and she hasn't come to
her full strength yet.

But we'll do our
best, Mrs. Trotter.

Well, could you start by looking

at the first-floor lavatory?

It's not functioning
as it ought.

Got the hump with its flush.

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