The Duchess of Duke Street (1976–1977): Season 2, Episode 14 - Blossom Time - full transcript

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Mmm. Blooming spring at last.

Lovely. I'm going
to have a little nap

with no interruptions...

And watch the world float by.

A very good idea, madam.

No, no, no. I don't need that.

Ta.

Hmm...

Pearl.

It come off in me hands.



I tried putting it back.

Madam.

Madam...but it wouldn't go.

It's number 8, the explorer.

He can't get out.

Well, don't come to
me. Get Starr to do it!

He won't. He says he's too busy.

Omph!

Just arrived.

By themselves?

Cab driver said
there was 2 ladies,

but it seems they disappeared.

"Miss Olive Bradford."

Who's she?



"Lausanne."

Miss Lottie must have
brought a friend back.

No mention in her letter.

Look, I've told you, Pearl...

She says you have to or she'll
knock your bloody block off.

What?

That's what she said.

Come on. I'll do
it. Which room is it?

Number 8. It weren't my fault!

It come off in me hands!

[Lottie giggling]

Shh! Quiet. She's asleep.

We'll sneak past. Come on.

Whatever you say, my dear.

What a quaint old building!

You can trace it back
to Charles I, some of it.

Can you? Good heavens!

LOUISA: Or so they say.

Hello! We didn't
want to disturb you.

Hardly recognize
you. Nice to see you.

LOTTIE: You, too. This is Olly,

Miss Olive Bradford,
my art teacher.

Mrs. Trotter.

How do you do?

Hello.

Poor Olly. She was
going to spend the hols

in the Camargue with her
brother, but he broke his leg,

so I invited her to stay
with us. Is that all right?

Well, I should think
we could manage it.

Thank you!

Oh, marvelous!

I am potty about this garden!

It's so cloistered,
yet wild and...

LOTTIE: Rococo?

No, dear. That's
one thing it's not.

Yes, well, uh...

Show miss, uh...

Olly.

Olly inside, would you?

And ask Starr to
find her a room.

I'm having a little rest now,

if you'll excuse me.

Come on, Olly.
Let's go find Starr

and see if he's gotten our bags,

and I'll show you all around...

No, no, Pearl. Only 3 of us:

Mrs. Trotter, Miss
Richards, and myself.

4, I was told.

Oh, were you?

That's right, Major.

Miss Lottie's brought
a friend back with her.

Mrs. Trotter thought
you wouldn't mind

accommodating an extra person.

Oh...no, I suppose not.

Oh, yes, that's
perfect, thank you.

Thank you, sir.

PEARL: Oh, blimey!

[knock on door]

Come in.

Hello.

Welcome home.

Darling Mary!

Oh, no, I can't kiss you.

I'll smudge. How are you?

I'm very well, thank you.

Did you have a nice term?

Oh, it was all right, you
know. Rather boring, really.

Now, what do you
think of my dress?

Why, I think it's lovely.

We spent a day in
Paris on the way back,

and Olly bought it
for me as a present.

Don't tell mother, though.

She might not approve.

Have you met Olly yet?

No.

Oh, you'll love
her. She's such fun!

She's my best friend...

And she also bought me this.

Isn't it divine?

Put some on. Go on.

Oh, no, I'll stink
the place out.

Oh, all right. Just a dab.

I don't know what
the staff will say

or your mother, come to
that, when she sniffs it on you.

Fait accompli.

What?

It's French, meaning "Too bad."

Mary...we are still
friends, aren't we?

Well, of course we are.

It's just that I've
never forgiven myself

for that wretched
time we had over...

Oh, heavens. I can't
remember his name.

- Brian.
- Brian, yes.

Have you found someone else?

No. And to tell you the truth,

I haven't really been looking.

There's other things in life
besides all that, I've decided.

Is there? I think
of nothing else.

Is that normal?

Well, I think of it sometimes.

I'm not quite an old maid.

Yes, but when you were my age,

did you think about sex?

Well, I suppose so, I...

Yes, but I didn't let
it worry me too much.

Hmm...

The girl I share with
at school...Esme...

both of us are determined
to get engaged this holidays.

Oh... anyone in particular?

Well, he has to be a gentleman.

Oh, of course.

Can you pass me my wrap?

Thank you.

Ok?

A picture.

Off to the jolly
old Major, then.

MARY: Hardly recognize
you with your new posh voice.

[Yorkshire accent]
Eh, don't ya, love?

Well, that's what they're
paying the brass for!

This is jolly decent
of you, Major.

Not at all. Delighted.

Oh, uh, ginger, Miss Bradford?

Oh, do call me Olive.

I so hate formality.

LOUISA: Thank you.

MAJOR: Art you teach, is it?

Yes.

Oh, merde!

Oh, oh, please. Allow me.

LOUISA: Merriman, more melon.

Oh, God, are you all right?

MAJOR: Yes. Quite
all right, thank you.

LOUISA: Pearl!

How's the French
coming along, Lottie?

Tres bien, merci, monsieur.

Madame Chaubers est
bien contente avec moi,

n'est-ce pas?

OLIVE: Mais certainement.

Lottie did splendidly last term,

in art, anyway.

She drew me an
orchid

which I had framed
and hung in my room.

One of my most engaging pupils.

Flatteuse.

LOUISA: That's nice.

No, thank you.

Are you giving up your singing?

♪ Tra la-a-a ♪ Yes!

With the encouragement
of Anatole.

Taisez-vous, s'il vous
plait, mademoiselle.

LOUISA: Anatole?

OLIVE: The ski instructor

and a troubadour of some merit.

LOTTIE: Divine Anatole!

He used to serenade the
girls under their windows

in the moonlight...

Until madame stepped in.

Esme actually climbed out

and had to be dragged
back by her hair.

[Major and Olive laugh]

Poor Esme. She got
blisters from the sun

and had to spend all Christmas

propped up in bed,
missing the jollity.

Lot of, um, jollity, is there?

Oh, yes, since Olly came.

We break all the
stuffy rules with Olly.

OLIVE: Lottie, don't shame me!

- Shall I tell about William Tell?
- No!

Oh, please, um, tell.

[chuckles]

LOTTIE: Well, Olly
introduced archery

into the school briefly

and nearly shot an apple
off Pamela de Crepney's head.

The stupid girl went
and wrote home about it.

There was a merry old fuss.

Archery was suspended.

So was I, for a week.

But we all protested and
threatened to run away,

so madame had to relent.

Fascinating.

I used to go mountain
climbing in Switzerland.

Only, uh, modest
heights, of course.

I remember climbing the Dôle.

Oh, yes, we've been up there.

I adore mountains!

I find them so
voluminous, so potent!

Do you, Mrs. Trotter?

No, I can't say I've seen
them quite in that light before.

I'm very fond of mountains, too.

I remember once in Africa...

Kilimanjaro.

You've been up Kilimanjaro?

Well, not all the way.

Breathless!

Yes, I was rather.

[both laugh]

Isn't Olly wonderful?

She's led the most amazing life.

She ran away to Paris

when she was 19

and was an artist's model.

Oh, yes?

Tell about the Polish sculptor.

Mm-mm. No, no, no!

Oh, go on!

OLIVE: Gaudier-Brzeska.
Do you know his work?

Vorticism...

Pound? Wyndham Lewis?

Just before the war?

Uh, modern. Abstract, I think.

I know.

OLIVE: Yes, that's right!

Art expressing a
seething whirl of ideas.

His heads are flat, smooth,

almost featureless, but sensual.

I'll track some down in London

if you're interested.

Yes, I am. Most interested.

Must have been rather
gay, Paris before the war.

Oh, yes, it's my
spiritual home, Paris.

La rive gauche!

And where's your earthly home?

I'm sorry? Oh...

Well, actually, I come
from Tewkesbury.

My father was a colonel
in the Indian army.

MAJOR: Really?
But I was out there!

Yes. So I can see.

Bradford, Bradford.

A dry old stick, much
loathed by his men, I hear.

Was he ever in Ahmadnagar?

The Jain Temple!

And splendid mosques!

And pottery!

No, I don't think he was.

OLIVE: I remember Bangalore.

I was there as a child.

Really? I was there in '92.

LOTTIE: ...tells us amazing
stories about her lovers.

I had a rather
unfortunate accident.

I was pursued by
a rogue elephant

wounded, separated
from the herd,

trumpeting like fury.

What did you do?
Did you shoot him?

In the knee. Slowed
him up anyway.

How jolly brave!

There is a marvelous painting

of an angry elephant
by an Indian artist.

- Do you know who I mean?
- Afraid not, no.

LOTTIE: In the end, it was
all a bit too much for poor Olly.

She had a breakdown.

MAJOR: The Tate's my
happy hunting ground.

Oh, no, no. It won't be there.

But we'll go there, too.
We'll have an art binge.

LOUISA: Go steady
on that with her.

Oh, it's all right.

We drink wine at
school all the time.

OLIVE: I'm sorry.
I don't eat meat.

MERRIMAN: Oh.

I'm so sorry.

Good morning.

Oh.

What a lovely one.

Uh, day, I mean.

Oh, yes.

I don't believe I've had
the pleasure, have I?

My name's Howard Blenkiron.

Lottie Richards.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Would you care to join me
in a glass of Champagne?

No. Oh, no, thank you.

I've got rather a
headache this morning.

Forgive me for asking.
It's most ungallant of me,

but it's not a hangover, is it?

Yes, I think it is.

Oh. Look, what you need is

one of Mr. Hepple's
marvelous potions.

Oh, Merriman.

Well, will you join me?

It's quite shaded at my table.

Thank you.

MERRIMAN: Sir?

Oh, Merriman. One
Hepple's breakfast.

Soon put you right.

Well, at the double, man.

Very good, sir.

Ahh...

I'm expecting some friends.

Well, no. Not friends, actually.

He's a cousin.

He's just got himself
engaged, poor fool,

to Angela Westbury,
whom I expect you know.

No, I don't.

Really? I thought
everyone knew Angela.

She knows everyone. Ha ha!

And she's finally sunk her
talons into poor old Patrick.

Actually, I've been
away for quite a while,

in Switzerland.

So I've been
rather out of touch.

Skiing?

Yes.

It's a bit late in May.

Where have you been, under
an avalanche?

[laughs]

I was out there
myself in February.

St. Moritz.

I'm surprised we didn't
bump into each other.

Well, I've been
at school, actually.

School?

Finishing school at Lausanne.

Good Lord! I thought
you were older.

Why, I mean that
as a compliment.

I'm 19.

[talking indistinctly]

Howard, darling!
Sorry we're late.

Angie.

Dreary shopping
for papa's birthday.

As you know he
wants his family life

inscribed on a piece of
parchment, of all things.

And can one find
anyone to do it?

Harrods were terribly tetchy.

There's a little man
in the Old Kent Road.

Um, Angela, I'd
like you to meet...

..Miss Lottie Richards.

Lady Angela Westbury and
my cousin Patrick Mellor.

Hello.

How do you do?

How do you do?

You're not Cubby's
daughter, are you?

- Cubby?
- Sir Cuthbert Richards.

Oh, no, no, no.
Her name's Dorothy.

She must be at least 35.

Angela's a walking Debrett,

but occasionally, some
of her pages are missing.

[all laugh]
No, no.

Miss Richards is at school
in Switzerland, Angie.

Oh, you haven't
even come out yet.

No, I haven't.

HOWARD: Look here. I'm
afraid I started on the Champagne

because, um, I couldn't wait.

[all laugh]

- Poor boy.
- All right. Take your time.

Well, I suppose I ought
to offer some formal toast

to honor this occasion?

No. Please, darling.
No speeches.

Oh, dear. Well...

To the happy couple, then.

TOGETHER: Cheers.

- Aren't you joining us?
- LOTTIE: No.

That's remedial.

PATRICK: Oh, I see.
A party last night, what?

No. Don't touch it.

I had it once. It killed me.

You're still here, old thing.

Absolute nonsense.

You drink it in one.
1, 2, 3...Down you go!

PATRICK: Well done!

That's it. Jolly good.

How do you feel now?

Much better, thanks.

Have a Gasper to
chase it down with.

- Thanks.
- Here we are..

All right?

You come from Yorkshire!

I knew it the moment
you put on that silly accent.

Tell me, what are you doing

living in this den of iniquity?

Well, actually, my father
is a friend of Mrs. Trotter's.

Well, he was killed
in the war, and, um,

she's sort of looking after me.

Oh, how nice.

I can think of nothing nicer

than to be looked
after by Mrs. Trotter.

Yeah, nor me.

You live here, then.

We just come here for
the entertainment really.

What's going on
over there, then?

Couldn't say, ma'am.

Mr. Blenkiron's just ordered
her a Hepple's breakfast.

Oh, has he? Well, that's
no more than she deserves.

[coughs softly]

Um...

Excuse me. I'm afraid
I shall have to go now.

Oh, dear. What a shame.

Well, I hope we meet again.

Yes. Thank you.

Good-bye.

- Bye.
- ANGELA: Good-bye.

Intriguing girl.

Awfully pretty.

Cradle snatcher.

[knock on door]

What? Uh...come in.

Am I too early?

Oh, no. Please come in.

I've rather stupidly
mislaid my shoes.

And I left my cigars
behind last night.

They're in a small gold case.

Did you come across them?

No. But please look around.

It's rather untidy, I'm afraid.

Oh, no. I love your room!

A treasure trove...

A man's life, spread out.

What?

Well, one collects
things, you know.

What's this? Your appendix?

No. A present from a Zulu chief.

A parting gift, I think.

Something of his?

I didn't inquire too closely.

He was rather a fierce fellow.

What's this for?

Oh, nothing,
Gymkhana, Quetta, '92.

First prize?

A marvelous pony
called Wellington

must take some of the credit.

Oh, look! I say!

Is that really you?

Yeah.

I say!

That is impressive!

And, uh, you're standing on him.

What?

Oh! Ha ha!

Oh, look.

Only one eye.

— Where I
got him, I'm afraid.

I would love you
to tell me about it.

Would you?

Well, if you have the time.

Well, it was...

Oh, look!

I have found your shoes.

How on earth did
they finish up there?

[drumming]

Voodoo.

[giggles]

What a varied life
you must have led.

As you have,

by your account
of things last night.

Oh, God! What did I say?

Oh, nothing
untoward, I assure you.

Well, one is apt to
exaggerate a little...

For the girls, poor darlings.

Ah, here are my cigars!

MAJOR: Oh.

Can I tempt you?

Oh, why not?

Would you like some coffee?

Can it be conjured up?

In the twinkling of an eye.

Oh, it's beautiful.

I'll fetch a vase for it.

He's asked me to go
to the theater with him

on Thursday.

Should I accept?

Well, of course you
should. Why not?

He's a lovely
man, Mr. Blenkiron.

Quite fancy him myself.

But you'd better ask your
mother just to make sure.

[door closes]

You wanted to see me?

I did.

Shut the door.

Oh, yes.

Sit down.

Now, then...

Miss Richards...
What are you up to?

Well, nothing yet.

Now, look here, Blenkers.

I've known you since your
father used to bring you here

when you were still
in your knickerbockers.

I'm not saying I
didn't take to you,

right little charmer,
even in those days,

but from my observation,

you're also fickle,
feckless, lazy,

and fit for nothing much,

except for hanging round here,
seeing what you can pick up.

Oh, look here! Hold
your horses, Mrs. T.

I mean to say...

Well, your assessment
of me is, I grant you,

fairly near the mark.

In fact, you sound
exactly like my mother.

But I'm not all villain.

I met miss Richards
in the garden.

I found her charming, and I
thought she was fair game.

Fair game?!

- No. No, I mean I thought...
- Do you know how old she is?

Well, I believe
she's 19, isn't she?

And how old are
you next birthday?

Me? I'm 28. but, good
Lord! I know how to behave,

and I wouldn't dream of...

And, anyway, why are
you grilling me like this?

- I mean, she's not your...
- Where you taking her?

To the theater — to see a play

called "Love Among
the Paint Pots"

with Owen Nares.

Quite suitable,
from what I've heard.

Well, she might as well go out
with a rascal once in her life...

So she'll know what
to avoid in future.

All right,

but I want her back
here straight after.

What? No supper?

No. No supper. Back here

half past 10:00 on the dot.

Is that understood?

Upon my honor, ma'am.

Am I dismissed?

Yeah. Off you go.

Give me regards to your mother.

Seriously?

When I was a girl...

[chuckles]

..in Tewkesbury...

..I knew a woman
who filled her garden

with statues of
boys just like these.

She was quite
young, about my age.

She used to talk to them,
even feed them, I think.

"My naughty children,"
she called them.

One day I caught her
kissing one and crying.

"Don't grow up," she said.

"Don't grow up and leave me."

Touching.

Touched, you mean. Very fey.

What a way to live!

She was probably
quite happy, wasn't she?

Happy?!

Life isn't talking to stones.

It's flesh and
blood and sinews...

And feelings.

Life's a rather...

..hazardous affair,
I've always found.

Oh, yes. For you, an
adventurer, it must be!

If you had a thousand pounds,

where would you go tonight?

Up the Amazon.

Would you?

Really?

Would you take me?

Oh, it's hardly the
place for a woman, is it?

Well, I'm quite fearless.

I could do the cooking.

I've always longed to be
first on the scene somewhere.

Do you know what I mean? To...

..see something that no
man has ever seen before.

The lost world.

Yes...

To see and conquer.

Or put down a tiny flag, anyway.

Stake one's claim.

Is that an absurd
ambition, do you think?

No. Well, why should it be?

One feels so...

..small in the face
of the universe.

Did Columbus?

Marco Polo?

Did Alexander the Great?

Would it be awfully
foolish of me to kiss you?

[chiming]

[Lottie giggling]

LOTTIE: Thank you.
It was a lovely play.

Not too gloomy, I hope.

Oh, no. It was so real.

- Hello, Starr.
- Miss.

Oh, I'm in love with Owen Nares.

Are you, miss?

I heard a funny story
about him the other day.

Apparently, after a performance,

he has a habit of sitting
in his dressing room,

completely nude, with
his feet in a washbasin,

giving a charming
smile to all his visitors.

LOTTIE: Heavens!

Sorry, miss.

[all laughing]

Well, here we are,
all safe and sound.

Had a good time?

Marvelous!

Owen Nares is simply divine,

and Starr's just told
us that he has a...

[clears throat]

Oh.

I think I should
say good night now.

Won't you stay for coffee?

Um, no, I won't, thanks.

Howard has very sweetly asked me

to go on the river with
him next week. May I?

It should be rather pleasant
if the weather stays fine.

Well, I don't see no objection.

Oh, thank you! You're a brick!

Good night, Lottie.

Good night, Howard,

and thank you again
for a lovely evening.

Good night, Mrs. Trotter.

Good night.

Oh, so tired.

Straight to bed. Good night.

Good night.

PEARL: Lottie! Here!
What's going on?

LOTTIE: Shh! Quiet!

I shouldn't be in
here. I'll get the sack!

No, you won't. Go
behind the screen.

Take that off, and put this on.

- No, I can't, miss!
- Do as you're told.

Please.

I'll make it worth your while.

[whistle]

[softly] I'm coming!

I'll get kicked
out. I know I will.

I'll be on the streets.
Then what will happen?

It will be the ruin of me.

Be quiet and please do hurry.

Oh, you look beautiful.

A princess!

Now, put some of this on.

Right. Now, hop into bed.

Come on! And if anyone comes in,

don't say a word. Keep your head

well hidden under
the bedclothes.

I'll be back before morning.

You're a real sport, Pearl!

Well done!

I've got a cab waiting

outside the back gate.

Marvelous.

["I'm Just Wild
About Harry" playing]

[song ends]

Oh, yeah!

[applause]

Now, it's fizzy
lemonade if there's a raid.

Do you think there will be?

No, darling. They were raided

last night, apparently.

Yes. And there's King
Carol of Romania over there.

They can't very
well take his name.

Good gracious!

Doesn't look like
King Carol at all.

These fellows all look
the same, don't they?

I expect he's in heavy disguise.

How very funny.

Right. Glad you came?

Mm-hmm.

Darling, you intrigue me.

Tell me something
about yourself.

LOTTIE: What do
you want to know?

Well, something
about your family.

Is your mother alive?

No, no. She's an
orphan. She told us.

Well, orphans have
families somewhere, darling.

Who was your father?

Oh, mind your own business.

Innocent question, surely.

He was nobody very important.

I don't think you'd
have known him.

He was killed in
action, didn't you say?

Where?

Oh, Angela...

But she must know where. I mean,

what rank was he? What regiment?

That's a very rude question.

I mean, he may
have been a private.

He wasn't. He was a captain.

He won the DSO.

Beyond that, I don't
know very much, I'm afraid.

He was away a lot
while I was growing up.

Stationed abroad?

Now, look. End of subject.

My father was killed
in action at Jutland.

And one of his last actions,
God bless his dear old heart,

was to entrust Patrick and me

to an admiral friend of his

as Flag Lieutenants
cruising about in the Med.

Part of it all, and
yet not part of it.

No stories to tell
the grandchildren.

HOWARD: No.

Now, darlings,

don't let's get maudlin again.

It's not your fault
that you survived.

No. No.

But it does cause
a kind of lassitude.

I mean, most of
your friends gone —

aimless days spent
in search of what?

A charming compliment to us.

How can we help?

By staying with us and
putting us back together.

All the king's horses

and all the king's men

couldn't put humpty
together again.

Will somebody
please dance with me?

Yes, I will.

Lottie?

Lottie, you asleep?

Mmm...

Good night.

Mmm.

Eeeh!

[playing jazz]

LOUISA: I pick
you up off the street.

I give you a chance to
make something of your life,

and what do I get for it, eh?

PEARL, SOBBING:
It weren't my fault!

Weren't your fault? It
never blooming is, is it?

Door handles come
off in your hands.

Plates shatter all over
the blooming place.

Have the whole building
down on top of us, you will.

She made me do it! She made me!

Here, what's the racket?

MARY: We're not sure.

Pearl's in the
soup, whatever it is.

Oh, good. Walking
disaster, that girl.

No use here.

She'll see me in me
grave, and no mistake.

And then she'll trip over
the shovel they dug it with.

[Pearl sobbing]

Mistress Lottie.

The last straw, I'll tell you.

You're off at the
end of the week.

2 weeks' wages,

and that's being generous.

- No. You can't!
- And as for you!

You can't dismiss her.
It's my fault, all of it.

See, I told you she made me!

She dragged me by
me hair from me bed.

I've had enough of you. Get out!

- No!
- What?

She's innocent.
Punish me, not her.

- Get away from that door.
- I won't.

If she goes, I go, too, and
you'll never see me again.

Oh!

Don't you never talk to me
like that in front of my staff.

I don't care who you are.

What I do with my staff

is my business and
my business alone.

Now, we've got some
talking to do, you and me.

Oh, stop sniveling!

Now, that's better.

Talk in peace and quiet.

Now, I don't know what
you think your game is.

I'm sorry! Sorry.

Yeah, well, that's not
good enough, is it?

Broken our trust,
that's what you've done,

just when we was
beginning to find something.

Now I discover you're nothing
more than a common little tart,

off with the first man
that lays his hands on you.

It wasn't like that.
Howard's a gentleman.

Abducting
19-year-old schoolgirls

and carting them
off to nightclubs?

I know we were stupid.

I know I behaved
badly, but I'll do penance.

I'll sweep the floors. Anything!

You won't see him again.
That's your penance.

What?

He's not coming here again,

and you can forget about that

river trip of yours, as well.

Oh, no! Please!

I'm going to keep a sharp eye on
you until you go back to Switzerland,

which won't be a moment too
soon, as far as I'm concerned.

Oh, I didn't mean that.

You don't love me.

Oh, don't get emotional.

You don't, or you
wouldn't have said that.

Look, I do.

I know we don't find it easy

to get on with each other, but...

I do love you...

..in my way.

If your father was here...

Oh, keep him out of it!

Look...you've punished me,

but you won't dismiss
Pearl, will you?

Pearl.

Please don't.

I'll think about it.

Here. Just a minute.

I suppose you fancy yourself

in love with Howard, do you?

Look, you're still a schoolgirl.

There's plenty of time for love

when you've finished learning.

You can go to parties...

What does she know about it?

We're not going to get
married or anything stupid.

I just want to be with him.

And she's behaving like
some Victorian mama in 1880.

She lets everyone else

do what they like in
this hotel except me.

Personally, I think you're a
very silly, very immature girl.

What?

If you were my daughter, I
would lock you in your room

and put you on short
rations for a week.

She's let you off lightly.

Not you, as well?

You of all people!

Major.

Well, I'm afraid I agree
with Miss Bradford.

My dear child, you
can hardly expect

your mother to take
any other line, can you?

Ooh! You're all the same,

you old people!

You don't know anything!

Lottie...

Come to Olly.

[sobbing]

There, there.

She's full of remorse.

Regrets it terribly.

Shut herself in
her room, crying.

Punishment enough, isn't it?

So she sent you to wheedle
around me, has she?

Not at all. My own
initiative entirely.

Yeah, well, I've had a letter

from young Blenkers apologizing...

..as only he can.

That's something, I suppose.

Oh, splendid.

Charming fellow, Howard.
Knows how to behave.

Sort of a bit of an adventure.

Calf love. Innocent.

It's all part of
growing up, isn't it?

His father was a good sort,

old Reggie.

Salt of the earth, Reggie.

Can't say the same
for his mother, though.

Rose is all right when you

know how to handle her.

Look, the child
has very little time

before she goes back.

Let her go on the river trip.

If it makes you feel any easier,

Olive Bradford and I
will go along with them,

keep an eye on them.

You and Olive Bradford?

Yes. I'm sure she wouldn't mind

giving up an afternoon.

She's very fond
of Lottie, you know.

Yeah. Half the
blooming trouble, she is.

What?

I pay good money
for that school.

It's down the drain if all they
can supply is teachers like her.

Professional virgins,

filling young girls'
heads with tales

of Paris and Polish lovers

and whatever other rubbish

comes in their
frustrated imaginations.

- Virgins?
- It's no wonder young girls

jump out the windows,
make fools of themselves,

frighten their mothers.

Good mind to write
that Madame Chaubers.

But you can't do
that. Most unjustified!

I find her quite pleasant.

Rather agreeable, actually.

Yeah. I know you
do, Major. I've noticed.

Now, you want to
watch it, because

you're just the sort
of silly old duffer

she's looking
for, the last grasp

at the rock face before she goes

slithering down the slope.

Oh, look here. I
can't allow this. This is...

It's grossly unfair!

She's not like that.

You've got a bee in
your bonnet, Louisa,

and you're letting bitterness
cloud your judgment.

No. It's just a friendly
warning. That's all.

Well, I resent it. I...

Are you suggesting she
isn't truthful about her life?

Oh, no. I wouldn't
dream of it, Major.

No. You swallow
her stories whole.

She's swallowing
yours, I presume.

You might make a good match

- for each other after all.
- Oh, good heavens.

You go on your river
trip and enjoy yourself.

You only live once.

But you keep
Lottie in your sights.

She's got her
life in front of her.

[Lottie speaking indistinctly]

HOWARD: Fancy a race, Major?

We'll give you a start.

No, thank you.

Oh, come on.

Oh! Ha!

Uhh!

Vanished!

We've lost them.

I don't understand it.

You know what I should like now?

A large dish of
strawberries and cream.

No, seriously.

Our pledge to Mrs. Trotter.

Ha ha ha!

Oh, would you?

Oh, I wish I didn't
have to go back

to that beastly school.

Will you write to me every day?

Of course I will.

And as soon as you're back,

you must come and
stay with us at Cowes.

We have
a yacht down there.

It's rather fun,

especially in regatta week.

Will your mother approve of me?

If she doesn't approve
of you, my darling,

I'll never get it right.

She sounds awfully fierce.

Not really.

I'm sorry you never
met my father, though.

He was a great friend

of Mrs. Trotter's.

She used to have a house

next door to the yacht squadron

when he was on the committee.

Amazing parties.

Him and his cronies...

My mother thought

they were playing bridge.

Ha ha ha ha!

Did your father know...

Lord Haslemere?

Charlie? Yes, of course he did.

So did I. I used to
go sailing with Charlie.

He was awfully nice.

He was my father.

What?

And, um...

Mrs. Trotter is my mother.

Good God.

Are you shocked?

No. Not a bit.

What a pedigree.

It's hard to live with.

Yes, I bet it is.

Because no one can ever know.

I am a Viscount's daughter.

You are indeed.

So that's all right,

even if the rest is...

..rather awkward.

Well...

That sort of thing...

It doesn't matter
a jot nowadays.

You make a lovely
chaperone, you do, Major.

We did our level best,

but they spurted ahead.

And quite disappeared.

So what did you do about it?

We made extensive inquiries

at the boatyard.

And then we had
strawberries and cream.

Oh, did you?

I'm sure they'll be back soon.

Yeah, well, they've
been back an hour,

it so happens.

Came back in Blenkers' Bentley.

You paddled off on your own,

according to them.

They couldn't keep up with you.

Oh, don't blame
Toby, Mrs. Trotter.

It was all my fault.

No, no. It was
my fault entirely.

Oh, no. It was my fault.

It was both your
blooming faults,

far as I'm concerned.

Still, no harm done, I hope.

Let's forget about it.

Look what the wind's blown in.

Oh!

Letter, too.

Thank you. Can you
find a vase for them?

What?

Oh! Um, oh.

Sorry to wake you, old chap.

No, no. I was reading your book.

Never mind that now. Listen.

I have something to tell you.

"1,000 miles up the Amazon

in an ocean liner.
Fare from £90."

It's all right. I have a little
nest egg my mother left me.

"The R.M.S. Hildebrand

"will sail from Liverpool
on September 15th."

Well, shall we go?

Yes, of course.

Won't you be in Switzerland?

I have decided to resign at
the end of the coming term.

Madame and I have never
exactly seen eye to eye.

I shan't be missed.

But the girls will miss
you, surely. Lottie.

I am two a penny.

And Lottie has
discovered men, I think.

Yes.

Look, um, I...

I feel there's something I
should say about myself.

Your image of me

as the intrepid explorer...

Yes?

While it might have
been true of me

20 years ago,

these days, um...

Well, anno Domini, you know.

You don't want to
go up the Amazon?

Not...not terribly.

Oh! What a relief!

Ha ha ha!

I wasn't sure.

I had to put it to the test.

You're not disappointed?

No!

It's funny how when
one gets to my age,

how the mind plays tricks.

One meets a pretty
woman and fondly imagines

one is younger
than one really is.

One even feels one is,
but of course, one isn't.

One would never have guessed

the other day on the river.

That's kind of you to say so.

Anyway, age has
little to do with it.

No. I suppose not.

May I ask you a
personal question?

By all means.

Why did you never marry?

Oh, quite simply, um...

A number of reasons, I suppose.

The urge to travel,

lack of the right companion,

um, lack of funds.

May I ask you the same question?

Quite simply...

Nobody asked me.

I find that

very hard to believe.

Oh, I'm so sorry. How very rude.

Would you like some?

If you don't want to
go up the Amazon,

where do you want to go?

Well, if you'd
really like to know,

I've always rather
hankered after

an old water mill by a stream

in Constable country.

Sounds perfect.

But unfortunately,
funds preclude it.

No, they don't.

She was far too
young for him, anyway.

Well, I still think it's a pity.

Oh, nonsense, darling.

One couldn't have
asked them anywhere.

Typical of Howard.

I despair for him. Really, I do.

PATRICK: A millstone?

ANGELA: Well, of course she is.

Louisa Trotter's little bastard.

One wonders how many
more of them there are.

What makes me so cross

is the way she tried
to deceive us all,

as if she could possibly
have got away with it.

[crying]

[crash]

All right. I'll admit

I was a bit harsh the other day.

She has got a bit of character,

and if I'm honest, I'd
rather have her teach Lottie

than some crabby old bat

who don't know a
tit from a toothbrush.

We're um...

thinking of getting married.

What?

In the autumn.

A quiet affair, no fuss.

You're barmy.

Yes. I thought you'd say that.

I mean, having a little
ding-dong' one thing...

there's no need to be vulgar.

We've thought about
it from all angles,

and we're going to
do it whatever you say,

though it would be nice
to have your blessing.

You're throwing yourself away.

Oh, hardly! Good Lord!

On the contrary, Olive's the one

who's doing that, if anybody is.

I only hope I'm worthy.

What you going to live on?

She has a little money.

Oh, that's handy.

It's not the reason.

Pay the bills, though, won't it?

Well, that's another thing.

We're not planning
on living here.

I've bivvied here for too long

under your kind protection.

We're thinking of
buying an old water mill —

An old water mill?

— by a stream in Suffolk.

She'll paint, and I'll fish.

We'll come and visit
from time to time.

When the fish aren't biting.

Oh, really, Louisa, I do wish
you could be a little more...

..enthusiastic.

She really is a poppet,

not unlike you in some ways.

I'm a lucky chap.

And as you said
yourself, it is my life.

Yeah, well...

I'm not going to
talk you out of it.

I hope you'll be very happy.

You're very clumsy, you know.

I mean, look at this.

What a mess.

Oh, I pricked me finger.

I don't know how you
could be so clumsy.

I'm the one that
has to clear it up.

You're very rude.

Sorry.

Don't like working here.

Get pushed around all the time.

I mean, we're all the same

under the skin, aren't we?

I'm rude to you

because you don't
bite me head off usually.

It's the only way of
getting back at them, see?

Here, can I have
another squirt of this?

No, you cannot!

Charming.

I'm not going back
to school tomorrow.

Oh, dear. The young man, is it?

Yes. But not for
the reason you think.

My dear girl, you've really
been behaving very strangely

these last few days.

I'm surprised you noticed.

Well, of course I noticed.

At my age, love doesn't
blind one to anything.

Well, it should,
if that's what it is,

if that's the word you use.

What is the matter?

Nothing!

Have I done something wrong?

No.

Well, then why aren't you
coming back to school?

So sorry. Am I interrupting?

She has decided she is
not going back to school.

- Why not?
- I don't know.

You ask her.

Lottie?

It's a waste of time and money.

Howard doesn't want
to see me anymore

because I told him who I was.

He told his friends, and I
heard them talking about me.

- What friends?
- Angela Westbury...

Oh, but they're a rotten crowd.

You don't want to take any
notice of them. Ignore them.

But they matter!

They don't matter to me.

I'm illegitimate.

That's the point.

Mother wants me to be a lady,

and it's impossible.

My dear girl, half the
crowned heads of Europe

come from the wrong
side of the blanket.

It's never hindered
their progress.

My best friend at school,

Laura Duckworth.

Papa was a colonel,
mama was a barmaid,

and now...she's headmistress

of a large girls school
in the west of England.

And I know a chap, too.

I can't mention his name.
He's rather well-known.

In the cabinet?

In the church,
actually. He's a bishop.

Good heavens!

So, you see, it's not
really a stumbling block.

And anyway, your school

provides a certain
amount of jollity.

You said so yourself.

Not if Olly's not there,

if you take her away.

But I shall be there
for the next term.

We'll have long chats about it.

Oh, come on, Lottie. Cheer up.

We'll go back

and bluff it out
together, shall we?

Oh, yes.

Thank you.

Both of you.

Oh, dear.

So exhausting, these girls.

How did Mrs. Trotter
take our news?

Oh, splendidly, in
the circumstances.

I say, this friend
of yours, I...

Laura Duckworth?

Yes. Was that true?

False. The bishop?

Oh, pure fiction.

What a team we make.

Oh, don't bother with
that, Miss Bradford.

But I insist. How much is it?

I haven't made a bill out.

Oh, look. I'll settle that.

Going to miss the train.

Well...good-bye.

Thank you for everything.

Good-bye. Oh,
and congratulations,

by the way.

Ah, yes.

Is it folly, do you think?

No...time he settled down.

Are you coming to
the station with us?

No. I don't like farewells.

Um...come along, my dear.

Good-bye.

See you in August.

Here. Hang on a minute.

Bit of extra money.

Probably need it, knowing you.

Thank you.

Weren't a bad holiday, was it?

No. It was lovely. Thank you.

What about Howard?

Is he going to see you off?

No. He had to go up to Scotland.

You didn't have a
bust-up, did you?

Yes, sort of.

Oh, well.

Never mind.

Plenty more. You'll see.

Here. I'll come
and wave you off.

Bye, miss.

Write to me, won't you?

MAJOR: I remember
a train journey once. It was...

..during the battle
of Tel-El-Kebir...

save that for a
winter evening, Major.

Oh, yes. All right.
Are we off, then?

Hello, Lottie, darling.
Back to school?

Well, have a nice term.

See you when you
get back, perhaps. Bye.

Good-bye.

PATRICK: Ah, Merriman,

a jug of nectarine punch in
the garden when you're ready.

MERRIMAN: Very good, sir.

[car horn honking]

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