Upstairs Downstairs (2010–2012): Season 2, Episode 3 - A Perfect Specimen of Womanhood - full transcript

Blanche is discomforted when married authoress Portia Alresford publishes a spicy best seller, 'The Golden Blaze', a thinly disguised account of their lesbian affair. Their true identities are exposed in the press, angering Sir Hallam and dividing staff opinion. And, whilst Portia wants the affair to resume, Blanche knows that this can never be. Lady Agnes, keen to assume more child care duties, annoys Beryl by switching her job to housemaid, giving both her and kitchen maid Eunice more work to do. Beryl goes to a staff agency, the Girls' Friendly Society, whose Miss Poulson forces Lady Agnes to improve staff working conditions, making her see the folly of her ways. Lady Persie tells Hallam that she is pregnant, but all these events are over-shadowed by the German invasion of Czechoslovakia, making war a far more realistic possibility than before.


Eunice. 6:00.


Johnny! You're on duty, dozy drawers!

Hurry up with that coffee!

Sir Hallam wants it
on the dot of half past!

My routine's all out
since this riding lark!

What about the tea
for Mrs Thack and Mr P?

Why can't they just be
like theatrical people?

Noel Coward stays in bed till lunchtime!

It's a good job I'm about
to take myself in hand.

In what way?

I start classes with the Women's League
of Health and Beauty this morning.

Lavinia Godfrey finally persuaded me.

Physical culture?

I have gained little weight.

But Lavinia believes
it empowers women generally.

Can't you coax Persie to go with you?

I find her such a dispiriting presence.

No friends, no charitable interests.

No occupation of any kind.

I suppose that's what happens
when a love affair ends badly.

I invited her to join me at the museum.

I'm sorry to say she merely
glared at me and smoked.

"I met a traveller from an antique land,

"who said two vast and trunkless legs
of stone stand in the desert.

"Near them, on the sand, half sunk,

"a shattered visage lies..."

I rather think you're the traveller
from the antique land, Portia.

So many years have passed.

Three. Nearer to four.

I wrote to you, Blanche.
I wrote last autumn.

- I know.
- Did you burn it?

I thought you might.

I thought it would be just like you
to consign it to the flames

without reading it first.

Mama! Mama!

(CHUCKLES) I don't know
what Nanny would say

if she saw you running in a museum!

Violet, will you take Gawain
to look at the Rosetta Stone?

It's indescribably interesting.

It won't be to them.

I know. But motherhood has made
the most enormous fibber of me

and the children swallow
everything I say.

I've another at home in the nursery now.

- Did you hear?
- Yes.

I called her Isis.

I heard that, too.

Zip fastener's all mended,
your ladyship.

Thank you, Beryl.

Would you help me with my hair
before you go back to Nanny?

Of course, your ladyship.

I need something more robust than usual.

I'm told the exercises at the
Women's League of Health and Beauty

can be quite vigorous.

I've seen them on the newsreels.

They reckon Lady Prunella is
the perfect specimen of womanhood.

She certainly has
an extremely trim waist.

Perhaps if I apply myself,
I'll stop breaking my zip-fasteners!


Beryl, it seems to me
that you're rather wasted

tucked up in the nurseries with Nanny,

so it might suit all of us
if you and Eunice reversed roles.

If she became nursery maid?

Yes. And you took on looking after me,
along with parlour duties.

I see.

You have just the right manner
for the drawing room

and Eunice is fond of the children.

I've noticed that
on your afternoons off.

Very well, your ladyship.

I'll see Mr Pritchard and sort out
the finer points before my class.

Embalming jars.
Is there anything in them?

Kidneys and livers
and hearts, in the main.

All very desiccated.

Desiccated hearts? I rather like that.

Portia, much as I would relish giving
you a guided tour of the exhibits,

I am drawing up an inventory of...


The Golden Blaze is to be published.

But you always said
that was the one story

- you would never show to anyone.
- And I meant it.

But nothing else I ever wrote
was going to make the grade.

I'm not like you, with your definitive
lexicon of Upper Nile dialects.

Your monograph on the tomb
of Ramses the Third.

- The Second.
- I tried to tell you.

You are Evelyn on those pages,
just as much as I am Rosalinde.

It's your story, too.

And your novel.

I did consider making Evelyn into a man.

Evelyn can be a man's name.

All I would have had to do was
change the pronouns.

But we never could
change the pronouns, could we?


No one will know that it's you.

They won't even know that it's me.

Edmund made me swear that
I'd use a pseudonym.

I was going to ask what Edmund thought.

He left for Donegal this morning.

A fishing trip, with friends.

He always understood, you know.

Yes. And I was glad.

My book...

Will you read it?

I don't have to.

Well, I knew Eunice's days were numbered
when Lady Agnes found

potato peel in the
pocket of her peignoir.

Well, I was hired for kitchen work.

Miss Buck did all the lady's maiding
till she got TB.

Lady Agnes said nothing to me
about kitchen work.

Beryl is to be entirely relieved
of nursery responsibilities.

Her position is to be redefined as
Senior House Parlourmaid,

with all the duties thereby implied,

along with providing care for
Lady Agnes' wardrobe and person.

Will I be working longer hours?

If I am, I ought to have a pay rise.

No change in remuneration was mentioned.

Eunice, meanwhile, is to have her time
apportioned across the day.

In the morning, two hours with Nanny,

after which she will aid
Mrs Thackeray in the kitchen

and return to the nursery
from 2:00 till 6:00.

In the evening,
she will assist in the preparation,

serving and clearing away of dinner.

That doesn't make any sense!

It's murder in the nursery
of an evening.

Baths for both of them,
Miss Veronica's had colic!

I'm good with colic.

You're good with dishes, too.

I will say who's going to do the dishes!

Agnes! Such luck that you came.

There's a torchlight display
in Hyde Park looming,

and our section can't quite
rustle up the numbers.

My word, what perfectly
delicious pins you have!

Well, I was quite surprised
by how brief the shorts are.

Well, no point in all this kicking and
marching if the nethers don't get aired.


We're all wearing as little
as each other, that's the main thing.

The League of Health and Beauty
isn't just a system of exercise,

it's about equality for women
from every walk of life.

Now, let's trot along
and you can take the plunge.

I think it all sounds
perfectly marvellous.

We have a duty to cherish our bodies.

Shop girls benefit
just as much as duchesses.

Right then, ladies, let's get started!

LAVINIA: Swing those shoulders!

Chin up, Petronella!

And remember. Accept your bodies!
Liberate your lives!

You can't touch her knickers
with your hands!

You use the silk, like this.

Is that because of germs?

No, we just aren't allowed
to touch them. They're personal.

LAVINIA: Left leg, right arm,
right leg, left arm!

That's the ticket, Lady Agnes!

LAVINIA: If anyone's perspiring,

there's some eau de cologne
on top of the piano.

Feel your heart beat!

Breathe. Breathe.


- Are we driving you to drink?
- No.

I just rather thought a gin might
hit the spot, that's all.

I'd be on more than gin if I was shut up
in these four walls all day.

Why don't you come out riding?

You used to be a
perfect Valkyrie on horseback.

Oh, don't. You can't imagine
how appalling Wagner is

until you've sat through
five hours of caterwauling

with a Standartenführer's hand
placed lightly on your thigh.

I suppose you're talking
about this Friedrich?

He sounds like a bounder, if you ask me.

He was. It was why
I liked him, to begin with.

He's the reason I came in for the gin.

I was going to drink it
sitting in a hot bath.

That's what girls do, isn't it?

When they get in trouble.


Does Agnes know?

No! And don't you bloody dare tell her!

I've made it right with her at last

and if you told her
what an idiot I've been

we'd be lost to each other
all over again.

What do you want me to do?

An abortion costs 60 guineas.

I don't care if an abortion
costs sixpence!

It's against the law.

You can get one on Harley Street.
Well, just off.

It's a filthy game, Persie,
and I'm not playing it.

Hallam, I need your help.

LADY PORTIA: Chapter One.

It was the hair
that Rosalinde saw first.

Coiled like wire beneath
its heavy metal pins...

All Egypt was in her glance.

The dry heat of the sands,

the deep green of the
malachite in amulets...

There was no one word with
which to brand the moment.

Rosalinde's body was being
filled with spices...

This was a journey beyond the map,

a road they intended
to travel for eternity.

It would be a very great shame
if there weren't enough ladies

to represent our troupe by torchlight.

So I told Mrs Godfrey that 165
would make up the shortfall.

I'm afraid we have duties
in the afternoons, your ladyship.

That's very diligent of you, Beryl.
But the wonderful thing about the League

is that it runs classes
throughout the working week,

so there'll always be one
to coincide with your time off.

We may well go to some of them together.

Everyone's treated the same
and dressed the same.

The classes put us all on
a completely equal footing.

Bare legs? In broad daylight?

You're just jealous, Mrs Thack.

You could quite fancy yourself
in some black satin bloomers.

It's just tawdry exhibitionism.

And I don't like seeing
Eunice made a game of.

I'm being made a game of, too!

I came here to work and save,

not prance around Hyde Park
doing high kicks in me knickers.

Maybe they'll just let me bang the drum.

I always banged the drum
in country dancing at Barnardo's.

I know whose drum I'd like to bang.

Come on, Bee. Swallow your pride.

You don't want to get the sack
any more than I do.



That's exactly what I told them.


I read the book.

Could you bear it?

I was enthralled by it.

I couldn't believe your courage.

Come into the drawing room.

It's not a party as such.

The publisher's budget
couldn't stretch to one,

just a few friends who've gathered
to wish me well.

- I daren't.
- They'd wish you well, too.

No. I... I didn't realise
you had guests.

I... Oh, I just wanted to see you.

After I came to you at the museum,

I thought, "If I never see her again
I shall die."

Will you promise to
come to me another day?

When I'm alone
and the babies are in bed?


Portia, darling, I simply have to fly.

I have a meeting to attend
at the Factory Inspectorate.

Nothing if not a man of contrast,
Your Highness.

You know Blanche Mottershead, don't you?

But of course.

À bientôt.

KENT: The Golden Blaze
will be widely reviewed.

It's the most exquisitely
wrought little tale.

It's rather like Lady Alresford herself,
all curlicued pallor,

like ormolu,

with just a hint of musk and roses
when you rub it in your hands.

I never have time
to read fiction nowadays.

Now, listen, old chap.

The Golden Blaze isn't fiction
and it's really... It's very short.

I must urge you to read it.

It sounds like the sort of book
Agnes would ban.

Servants getting hold of it,
all of that.

Well, they'll get hold of it
one way or another.

One suspects it might become
a sort of cause célèbre.

Sir, I was hoping to pick your brains
about Czechoslovakia.

Halifax is sending me to Germany

to support negotiations
at the British Embassy.

Very well.

The worst thing Czechoslovakia ever
did was to create the Second Republic.

The new border is
militarily indefensible

and President Hâcha
is not a healthy man.

His heart is almost giving out.

He's on a ticking clock,
just like his country.

Those twin facts
colour everything he does

and your trip to Berlin
is very likely to prove fruitless.

Now, may we return
to the topic of The Golden Blaze?

Sir, why are you hell-bent on
discussing this lurid novel?

Because tonight, when you return to
your blameless and elegant townhouse,

you'll need to have a little tête-à-tête
with your Aunt Blanche.

Darling, you're in perfect time
for a nightcap.

I don't want a nightcap.

- Pritchard, you may leave us.
- Sir.

Well, Hallam.

Don't you "Well, Hallam" me!

You've evidently heard about the book.

What book?
Are you writing another dictionary?

No. A friend of hers
has written a novel!

Not a friend. A lover.

Oh, how perfectly thrilling.

Is it anyone we know?

I think you might have been
debutantes in the same year.

Portia St Clair.

But she was married to
Viscount Alresford.

She's still married
to Viscount Alresford.

And when the newspapers
strip her of her pseudonym,

there'll be hell to pay
in this house as well as theirs!

Because they'll strip Blanche
of her pseudonym, too.

Well, Hallam,
you must talk to the papers!

You must try to intervene!

It's too late to intervene.
According to the Duke of Kent,

there's at least one gossip columnist
running the story tomorrow.

For God's sake, Blanche,

there's a picture
in the Tate of Lady Alresford,

posing with her children
called Radiant Motherhood!

Her husband's the MP for Lymewold.

It's a bloody good job my mother's dead.

And it's a bloody good job
my father's dead.

He was a bishop who thought
all inverts should be horsewhipped.

It's in the Express.

"Smart circles are
humming with speculation

"that The Golden Blaze, a torrid tale
of unnatural female passions,

"actually details the friendship
between Viscountess Alresford,

"the book's true author,

"and the noted Egyptologist
Dr Blanche Mottershead,

"former amanuensis to
the late 5th Earl of Carnarvon."

Aunt Blanche is a lesbian?


This is the sort of talk that
spreads like influenza.

Hallam, is this in any way
likely to affect

the current state of play
in European politics?


Then I suggest you calm down
and read a different paper.

Agnes, the social humiliation
is going to be appalling.

I shall ensure we weather it somehow.

I'd like to welcome
two new members of the class today,

Beryl Ballard and Eunice McCabe.

They've been kindly brought to us
by Lady Agnes Holland,

on whose staff they serve.

Splendidly, we're now
sufficient in number

to make up a torchlight troupe.

Thank you, Mrs Davis!

We'll start with knee kick, high kick.
Arms raised to the bust.

And one and two and three and four!

And one and two and three and four!

Splendid, ladies.

This feels like quite the assignation.

I'm surprised you don't have
a carnation in your buttonhole.

It's hardly a discussion
we can have at home.

I don't care whether have it here,
in the house or on the 2 3 bus.

I'm not going to be
hidden away at the seaside

with some ghastly couple who are
only out to make a profit from me.

It's the only
respectable way around it.

I would also hope that once
you've adjusted to the circumstance,

you will agree that I can inform Agnes.

- No.
- This is an adult dilemma, Persie.

It's time you stopped
behaving like a child.

I have no intention of having a baby.

I don't see anything
childish about that.

I will not have
Dr Mottershead embarrassed.

None of the junior servants
will be allowed to see any of this.

And anything that refers to the affair
will not be allowed to go upstairs.

I don't know how the papers
can print such smut.

I have to say, this Lady Alresford
takes a lovely photograph.

To her credit, Dr Mottershead
does not deny the allegations.

I'm inclined to say a lady's
private life is her own concern.

It's not her private life, is it?

Not if it's in the
London Illustrated News.

Harry, would you have a look
at the workings of this vacuum?

It seems to be spitting out
more fluff than it swallows.

It's probably the belt-drive.

Give it here.

Take a pew.

So, what's the latest
with Dr Mottershead?

Mmm. She's quiet in front of Sir Hallam,
and then cheerful when he's out.

Johnny heard her whistling this morning.

Whistling women and crowing hens, eh?

Lady Agnes has had
two invitations cancelled.

One of them a private view,
the other a dinner.

- Ouch.
- The dinner was for tonight.

I'd just pressed her lavender chiffon

and that would
try the patience of a saint.

Are you not enjoying
this swapping round lark?

Not really.

Eunice is struggling.
We're both worn to a thread.

You'll have to do something
nice on your afternoon off.

I don't get an afternoon off.

I get to play at being equal
with her ladyship.


Good afternoon. The garage.

Beryl? What are you doing in the garage?

I need Spargo to take me to Selfridge's.

You once told me about the
beauty of things that were incomplete.

Do you remember?

I'm an archaeologist.

I live the beauty of things
that are incomplete.

In all the years that we were apart,

I thought of you every time
I saw a broken statue

or a marble fragment.

Things could have been otherwise.

Things should have been otherwise.

I don't mind you
putting it all on account.

I'm just not sure you should have
chosen quite that cut of jacket.

You've been looking so much
bigger in the bosom.

Stop looking at my bosom!

I'm on my guard already
with an invert in the house!

Persie, why must you say
such provocative things?

Oh, why don't you throw
the old trout out?

She's brought this
entire address into disrepute

and Hallam's like a bear
with a wasp up its nose.

He's been like a bear with
a wasp up its nose since last September.

People have quite stopped thinking
there might be a war.

But Hallam hasn't.
His department haven't.

He has such strong principles.

Yes. I know he has.

Persie, what are you doing on horseback?

You invited me to join you for a ride.

When I wasn't aware of
your state of health!



For Christ's sake, Persie!

Persie, slow down!


You could have been thrown.

Well, I wasn't, was I?

You'll go blind doing that.

Yeah, and get hairs
on the palms of my hands,

I don't think.

I can't see why they're all
making such a fuss!

Do you reckon it is about
old Mottershead?

Well, one of them's got glasses.

Have you ever come across one
of these you-know-whats?

I met someone who thought she was.

Turns out she made a mistake.

They all just come falling
at your feet, don't they, Harry?

- Not all, no.
- Not Beryl?

You want to stop sidling round her.

Take her by surprise,
ask her somewhere really swanky.

- Dancing?
- No, she needs a sit-down.

Pictures. And none of your flea pits.

Curzon Mayfair's got
purple velvet seats.

Or so I've heard.

Do you want a go of this?
Before I put it back upstairs?

Not really.

Going to have nightmares
about them star jumps.

People laughing at me falling over.

You ought to get an ice pack
round that ankle.

It'd be cold. It'd keep me awake.

Nothing could keep me awake.

This is going to make me
even slower, Beryl.

The kitchen and the nursery.

I can't get stuff done quick enough,
even without a bloomin' gammy foot.

LADY PERSIE: Back to Berlin?

I thought it had gone quiet.

It will never go quiet.

What are you doing
wearing riding clothes?

I should have thought
that was perfectly obvious.

When I come back,

I'm going to raise the notion
of the seaside one more time.

And if you don't agree with that,

I'll have no choice
but to involve your sister.

Hallam, how much do you
want to distress her?

She can't have any more children.

She'd want to pretend it was hers
and bring it up,

as if this was some sort of
penny novelette!

Given that you're behaving
more and more like a character

from a penny novelette,

I don't think that would be
entirely inappropriate.

Oh, Beryl, there you are.

I desperately need
to have my hair washed,

and I can't get
an appointment at the salon.

Could you pop upstairs to the bathroom
with half a dozen eggs?

Eggs, your ladyship?

All the best salons
offer a protein rinse.

I shall show you how they do it,
you'll find it rather interesting.

Lady Agnes seems to think
eggs grow on trees.

She was the same with cucumbers
when she fancied she had eye bags.

And when there was none
left for sandwiches,

she read the riot act.

Don't forget to change.

You wear your afternoon dress
for lady's maiding.

I do think it's more effective
when the eggs are absolutely fresh.

Come on. You're carrying on
as if they've got you beat.

They have got me beat.

And my tooth hurts now,
as well as my ankle.

So, you began your employment
as a nursery maid?


You said this would be confidential.

But you were then assigned
housemaid duties

and expected to perform those
of a lady's maid

without any additional remuneration?


- You're taking notes.
- I always take notes.

I like to make a dispassionate record
of girls' complaints.

So many come to us in tears.

It's not so much me.
It's Eunice, Miss...


And that would be Eunice McCabe,
aged 15,

formerly of Dr Barnardo's Girls' Village
at Epping.

Yes. She's got no one, Miss Poulson.

No one to go to, nowhere to turn.

It's what the Girls' Friendly Society
is for.

I wasn't sure. I thought you might
only help girls on the streets.

For girls like Eunice,
with limited education and no family,

it's sometimes service or the streets.


Is there a housekeeper at this address?

There was a Miss Buck,
but now she's in the sanatorium.

Help yourself to a Garibaldi, dear.

I'm tired of snatching moments together.

All these fragmentary hours
and half-hours.

It's more than we've had
in a very long time.

Did I tell you that
Edmund's mother died

and we took over Flandermayne at last?

I suppose we've had other things
to discuss.

It's almost the oldest house in England.

I'm certain you'll love it
just as much as I.

I want us to go there together.


Quite alone.

I don't know.

Poulson, Miss. Girls' Friendly Society.

- If you'd care to step into my pantry...
- No, thank you.

I've come to inspect the working
conditions of the girls,

and the girls themselves.

Where is Eunice McCabe?

She spends the afternoon in the nursery,
helping with the children.

This light isn't bright enough
for close work.

If I may introduce Beryl,
our Senior House Parlourmaid.

Beryl and I are already acquainted.

- Is that the servants' lavatory?
- Yes, it is.

And none of us cares to use it,
it's riddled with black beetles.

That is sufficient, Mrs Thackeray.

I should like to speak
to the mistress of the house.

But the maids didn't seem to mind
the switch of duties.

The actual terms of engagement
didn't change...

I know they didn't change.

Still low wages, still excessive duties,

and still insufficient time at leisure.

But they all have an afternoon free
each week,

not to mention alternate Sundays.

It was what Miss Buck suggested.

I take it Miss Buck suggested
they both sleep in the one bed?

It's not hygienic.
Physically or morally.


There has been speculation
about this household

in recent popular publications.

I won't respond to that remark.

You'll respond to the need
to improve these maids' conditions.

Or you will be placed on the blacklist.

I'm not afraid of any blacklist.

But I am afraid of my conscience,
if I haven't done what's fair.

Of course I'll arrange separate beds.

And of course I'll look at their
afternoons off.

You can look at cancelling
those foolish classes.

And I would like to have a look
at Eunice.

Take your spectacles off, dear.

Your record at Barnardo's said
you have a lazy eye

which needed treatment.

Have you seen an oculist
since you've been here?

No, miss. These were the glasses
that I came in.

Open wide, please.

There's a molar in there
that's as black as a spade.

And an abscess starting,
unless I'm much mistaken.

EUNICE: I don't want to go!
I don't want to go!

A South Audley Street dentist?

You should count your lucky stars.
Shouldn't she, Mr Pritchard?

There'll be flowers in the foyer
and I don't know what.

I imagine anaesthesia will be deployed.

I don't want gas!

I hate you, Beryl Ballard!

I have never witnessed such behaviour!

If I had my way,

you would be dismissed
for disloyalty to her ladyship!

We are all staff together.

It's Eunice and me
you should be siding with!

I'm not taking sides.
I am showing respect!

Respect cuts both ways, Mr Amanjit!

Lady Agnes was treating us like
domestic appliances!

Beryl! You are in service.

You are here to fulfil
her ladyship's requirements.

Servants have requirements, too.

This is absurd!

JOHNNY: What about my requirements?

The old bat never inspected my room,

and my mattress has got more lumps
than a slag heap!

It obviously doesn't matter,
because I'm not a girl.

- Johnny, get on with the bottles!
- This isn't my job.

This is Belgravia. Not Leningrad!

A cottage suite.


We're getting a cottage suite.

I complained to Miss Poulson

about the lack of upholstery
in the cosy corner.


You look almost funny, standing there.

As though you're wondering
whether you ought to pounce.

Strictly for old times' sake, of course.

I'm not going to be doing anything.

Not for old times' sake
or for any other reason.

It was hot that summer, wasn't it?

I think of it every time
I smell motor oil.

Which isn't very often, obviously.

Are you looking for something,
Lady Persie?

You keep the old newspapers down here,
don't you?

In the crate under the workbench.

Take as many as you like.

Three gold fillings?

I wouldn't go flashing them about.

You'll be worth more dead
than you are alive.

I've spoken to Mrs Godfrey, girls,

told her you're withdrawing
from the class.

She quite understands.

- Thank you, your ladyship.
- What about the display?

That's not for you to worry about.

Miss Buck's methods were
exceedingly highly honed.

But they perhaps became entrenched
across the decades.

It's 1939, not 1899.

We need to adjust our principles
to suit.

It also seems that Miss Buck
signed guardianship papers for Eunice

because she was only 14 when she came.

Shall I take them to her

and arrange for the responsibilities
to be transferred?

No, Mr Amanjit. I shall see to this.

- You first.
- No, you.


Miss Buck?

Oh! Your ladyship!

Don't move a muscle.
You must stay exactly where you are.

Besides, this room is freezing!

Yes, I'm on the fresh-air cure.


Well, it must be doing you good.

You look very much better than you did
when you were first taken ill.

- Do I?
- Yes.

I wondered what you'd do
for a lack of a lady's maid.

But that skirt...

It's beautifully pressed.

I must say,
I think a sweet sherry is in order.

If you would oblige.

I'm on my break. 11:00 till half past.

Thank you, Miss Buck.
That puts everything in order.

The Girls' Friendly Society
will want to see the documents.

Joan Poulson was always a meddler.

I spent my whole life in service
and I've no complaints.

Eunice didn't have any complaints.

She didn't realise she deserved better.

In the drawer, your ladyship...

There's a key.

But this is the key to 165.

I shouldn't have it any more.

It isn't right.

It's absolutely right.

How else will you let yourself in
when you come home?


You used to wear Shalimar.

You must be Sir Hallam Holland.

- Standartenführer Erlichmann?
- Oberführer now, as a matter of fact.

Forgive me.

Thank you for responding to my note.

You have nothing to accompany
your whisky.

You should ask for
some ham and dill pickle, perhaps.

It is very good here.

I didn't come here for small talk,
Oberführer Erlichmann.

A figure of speech, I presume?

We can speak German, if you prefer.

But I understand your relationship
with Lady Persephone

was conducted entirely in English.

Darling Persephone!

She never seemed to see the sense
in mastering the foreign tongue.

Seeing sense has never been
her strong point.

She's with child, Oberführer Erlichmann,

and it falls to me to defend
her interests.

I wish you well with that.

Half the men in Munich
tried to defend her interests

and she slipped through the fingers
of each one of us like mercury.

Persie once said to me that

all a bad girl needs is one good mink
and the love of a decent man.

You obliged her with the mink, at least.

She threw it into the canal
outside the Lustheim Palace.

You are doubtless familiar
with that type of gesture.

I'm her brother-in-law, not her lover.


I leave it to you to play the role
of a decent man.

We're going for a walk.

- You rang, Lady Persie?
- I'm surprised you came.

I imagined it was going to be all
cushions and barley sugar for you lot.

I need the car. Tell Spargo, would you?

Of course, your ladyship.

HARRY: Are you sure this is the address,
your ladyship?

I was told to go in the back way.

The front is probably a great
deal smarter.

Are you wondering
why I've walked you all this way?

Oh, no. I'd be content
to walk with you forever.


Follow me,
or you won't see your surprise!


Who lives there?

No one. Yet.

But wait till you see inside.

There are fireplaces older than
the house itself.

And alcoves we'll cram with shelving
for your books.

Of my books?

And your books?

Perhaps just one shelf,
with The Golden Blaze

sitting on it on a cushion.

I very much doubt I have another in me.

But I'll always be grateful to it,
because it brought you back.

I was never far away from you
in my heart.

I know that, now.

We can forget the years
that have passed.

You can forget Belgravia
and that starchy nephew.

That's where we'll sit.

That's where we'll talk,
where we'll love.

- The Dorchester, Spargo.
- The Dorchester?

I'm not going dancing
but I am in need of a brandy.

Your ladyship,
I would prefer to take you home.

I've made a reservation here.

Give my bag to the bellboy and then go.

I've been ordered to collect
Sir Hallam at the aerodrome.

But I could go past the house
and give a message to Lady Agnes.

Don't you dare give a message of
any kind to Lady Agnes!

Persie. You're not well.

You can give a message to Hallam.

Do you really believe
you'll never write again?

The secret house would be
the perfect place to try.

I did my best work on
The Golden Blaze when I was miserable.

After you left.

After you decided to stay with Edmund.

I'll never be so unhappy again.

With you just a walk away
through the woods.

A walk away?




It doesn't happen like this
in penny novelettes.

She was highly experienced.

She washed her hands with carbolic soap.

In fact, one way or another

there was quite a lot
of carbolic soap involved.


For God's sake, Persie,
I'm ringing for a doctor.

I've broken the law, Hallam!

She said it would just come away.

And what if it doesn't?

I'll be in frightful trouble, won't I?

No. No!

You mean to keep me in the woods,
like a tame fox?

Like some sort of mistress.

Blanche, I can't understand
what you're so upset about.

I'll be in the main house
with the family

and I'd visit all the time.

I could stay with you for days on end.

It would all be like today and yesterday

but Blanche, it would last for years.

And you'd be happy?

Mundy would be happy.

And what, precisely, does that signify?

He wouldn't divorce me.

I have three children, Blanche.

I didn't just find them under hedges.
I made them. With him.

They're more his than they are mine.
If we divorced, I'd lose them.

You're in thrall to him.

No. I love him.

I love you.

And if that means that I can only have
a part of each of you then...

No, Portia.
We can each only have a part of you.

But that's the beauty
of incomplete things.

Isn't it?

Did Friedrich speak kindly of me?

Not really.

Is it feeble of me to wish that he had?

Everyone wants to be thought well of.

Do you?

When I was at prep school,

I won the prize for
Most Helpful Boy in the House.

At least, I shared it
with a boy called Franklin Minor.

What did you win?

A box of Huntley and Palmer's
Afternoon Tea biscuits.

But we decided we would
split the prize in two.

Franklin Minor got the biscuits
and I got the box.

And I was glad,

because I knew it would last longer.

I used to keep it on our dressing table

with my brushes and cufflinks.

But Agnes never could embrace
its charms

and one day I came home and it was gone.

Replaced by a smart leather caddy
from Hermès.

I'm afraid you're going to have to be
the Most Helpful Boy in the House again

and take me to the bathroom.


Shh, it's all right. It's all right.


PAMELA: Careful.

Pamela, go up to Nanny,
there's a good girl.

I'm sorry, Blanche,
should I leave you alone?

I am alone.

No, you're not.

Yes, she suffered a miscarriage.

In the small hours...

I'd like the doctor to attend her.

Thank you.

- I thought I'd wait, sir.
- Thank you, Spargo.

We'll say the flight was delayed.


You rang, your ladyship?

Miss Pamela will be dressing
for dinner this evening.

She has a new gown
which will require ironing,

if you would be so kind.

Of course, your ladyship.

And would Miss Pamela
be needing help with her hair?

If you can spare the time.

Eunice and I have been thinking,
your ladyship.

And we don't like to think
that we've let you down

by dropping out of the troupe
for Hyde Park.

- Beryl...
- It's wrong.

And you did what was right by us.

We'll do it.

Although you'll have to make
allowances for Eunice.

I shall always make allowances
for Eunice.

Thank you.


RADIO ANNOUNCER: A meeting has taken
place this morning between Herr Hitler

and the Czechoslovakian president,
Emil Hâcha.

President Hâcha has since agreed
to the free movement of German troops

within Czechoslovakia.

Well, it'll knock Dr Mottershead
out of the headlines.

RADIO ANNOUNCER: It is believed
that German troops

have already entered
several Czech provinces.

The move has been denounced
as an audacious gesture

on the part of Herr Hitler

and one that might be seen
as leading Europe

one step further towards war.

Meanwhile, in the capital,

preparations are underway
for a display of perfect womanhood.

Tomorrow evening, Hyde Park
will play host to a torchlight rally

of the Women's League
of Health and Beauty.