All language subtitles for National Theatre Live Small Island 1080p Webrip-PoNg

[RUSH OF BREAKING SURF]

[♪ GENTLE BRASS THEME]

RADIO ANNOUNCER: ..the treacherous coral waters
of the mysterious Caribbean sea,

these islands cast their spell...

[MUSIC DROWNS OUT WORDS]

..away across the widest and deepest stretch
of the mighty Atlantic Ocean

lie the cluster of strange, tropical islands
known as the West Indies.

Magnificent as are the attractions
of these islands,

the richest and the most beautiful
of them all is Jamaica.

[WAVES CRASH]

Arriving at Kingston, the capital of the island,
from the great harbour,

which is one of the six
largest harbours in the world.

The city of Kingston
is nothing more than an oasis,

unchanged throughout the centuries,

and is likely to continue so
into eternity.

[WAVES CRASHING]

[WIND HOWLING]

[THUNDERCLAP]

[RAIN FALLING]

♪ Master, the tempest is raging

[WOMAN LAUGHING]

♪ The billows are tossing high

♪ The sky is o'ershadowed with blackness

♪ No shelter or help is nigh ♪

[WIND HOWLING, THUNDER RUMBLING]

[WOMAN SCREAMS]

[WOMAN LAUGHS]

Why, listen to that wind, Hortense!
I do believe it's on its way.

Yes, Mrs Ryder.
It is certainly drawing closer now.

Oh, look how the trees are starting to sway!

– Why, it's as if they are dancing!
– Yes, Mrs Ryder.

My very first hurricane. How thrilling!

[SQUEALS WITH DELIGHT]

I think, perchance,
that you are wondering

how I come to find myself in this schoolhouse
with this fool-fool American woman

who believe a hurricane on the island of Jamaica
is something to look forward to.

[LAUGHING]

Oh, my! I do believe it's almost here.

I must confess I feel
just a little bit sorry for this lady.

Mrs Ryder, evangelist, schoolteacher.

She clearly believe that she
is the heroine of this situation.

But I can assure you,
she is most certainly not.

Let's leave the door unlocked, shall we?
In case someone wants to join us.

– Like Mr Ryder
– Yes, Hortense, exactly. Like Mr Ryder.

Now, where is my purse?
I think this calls for lipstick.

The reason I am in this schoolhouse
is that I choose to be.

I am only a classroom assistant,
after all and, like the pupils,

I could have left at lunchtime when word
of the approaching storm was verified.

But to do such a sensible thing

would be to deny the man I love
the opportunity to come and rescue me.

For him to say, 'Hortense!
But where is Hortense?'

'Perhaps she's in the schoolhouse.
Perhaps she is alone, afraid.'

'I must risk my life and run to her at once.'

[THUNDERCLAP]

I swear the Lord is present in that wind.
Oh, come wind, for I am ready!

I will tell you the story of my love.

It is a love with deep-down roots.

Hortense!
Hortense, come, come, me sprigadee.

How much further to the big house
with the chickens?

Not much further nah.

Miss Jewel, if I no like the big house
with the chickens, can we go back to Mama?

No, no. I tell yah nah. Your Mama gone work
in another country. She far, far away. In Cuba.

– But what if she come back to look for us?
– No, no.

She know we gone look for your papa folk.

Who is my papa? Miss Jewel? Grandmama?

Your papa him a big, big man. Important man.

– At the big house?
– No, no. Him a government man.

Him far, far away. In Kingston.

Miss Jewel, I no want to go
to the big house with the chickens.

Come.

– This your papa's skin.
– My skin is the colour of warm honey.

You is a lucky, lucky chile.

This skin is a golden life.

– Now you want a golden life, me sprigadee?
– Oh, yes. I want golden life.

So shift yuh bottom nah.
This the place.

A long track.
A white house nestled amongst palm trees.

The biggest house I've ever seen.
Made of stone, with tiles upon the roof.

– So, this is Lovell's child?
– Yessir. This Hortense, sir.

Hm. I am your father's cousin,
Mr Philip Roberts.

You may call me Mr Philip.

This is my wife, Mrs Martha Roberts.

You are a fortunate child.

Your father wishes you to be raised
in a decent home and to have some teaching.

So from now on you will live with us.

This is a God-fearing house.
I hope you are acquainted with the Lord?

Oh, yessir. The Lord him a very good man, sir.

Hm.

Michael, don't be shy now.
Come and meet your cousin.

Hortense, this is our son, Michael.

– Hello.
– Hello.

[SCREAMS]

Michael, put that down.
You are a mischievous boy.

– Why don't you jump?
– Because it is a gecko. I like geckos.

Show Hortense to her bedroom now.
Miss Jewel, I will show you where you sleep.

– But I sleep with my grandmama.
– No. Miss Jewel will sleep in the washhouse.

– But...
– No fret, me sprigadee.

And there will be no more of that talk.
This is Miss Hortense. This is Master Michael.

Come on.

Come!

She tell you to show me where we sleep.

Look, you see that hole in the tree?
There is a woodpecker's nest in that hole.

There must be,
I've seen them coming and going.

Climb on that branch and come up here.

– What?
– I need you to hold my legs.

– Yes, I can see it! Keep still.
– What are you doing?

– I just need to...

– I'm trying to reach an egg.
– No!

Agh!

Michael? Michael!

[PAINED CRIES]

[LAUGHING]

– Boo!
– [BOTH LAUGH]

– I'm sorry about your head
– I forgive you. But I will get you back for it.

– How?
– It will be a surprise.

You must tell my father
about everything you have done today.

– All right.
– Tell him at supper time.

He will like that very much.

God is great and God is good,
and we thank Him for this food.

By His hand we all are fed. Give us, Lord,
our daily bread. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

– Amen.
– [ENTHUSIASTICALLY] Amen!

Amen.

'I am the way, the truth and the life.
No man cometh unto the Father but by me.'

'If ye had known me,
ye should have known my Father also.'

'And from henceforth ye have known Him
and have seen God.'

– You may serve.
– Water first.

– I have a lot of fun today.
– No speaking at the table, child.

But Mr Philip will want to know.

I have been looking at a woodpecker's nest
and I have been climbing trees...

– No speaking!
– Wait. You have been doing what?

Climbing trees. I climbed the tree with
the branches that go out across the water and...

What ungodliness is this? You think it is godly to lift
yourself into the branches of a tree like a monkey?

– But Michael...
– Little girls do not climb trees!

Principle! Each one of us will stand accountable,
puny and small, in front of the Almighty.

You will learn principle. Get out of my sight.

– But she no have her...
– Be quiet! Leave the table.

You will have no supper.

– Hortense! Hortense!
– Go away.

– What are you doing in the chicken shed?
– Don't try to come in. There isn't any room.

– I brought you this.
– I don't want it.

You're eating chicken in a chicken shed.

Why wouldn't you let me take
the woodpecker's egg?

Because when you take things
away from their mothers they die.

But you're taken away from your mother
but you're not dead.

Do you like night-fishing? We'll go down to the stream
and we'll make rods from branches.

– I don't want to get in trouble again.
– We won't. I'll make sure. Trust me.

– I'm sorry about your supper.
– I forgive you. But I will get you back for it.

– How?
– It will be a surprise.

All my days when I was small
were filled with Michael Roberts.

He was allowed to play all day
but I had chores to do.

I had to help Miss Jewel in the washhouse,
I had to clean the kerosene lamps

and keep the area around the tamarind tree
free from dirt and a pleasure to sit in.

– But Michael was always...
– Come now, Hortense. Leave all that. Come now!

And we would run away into the fields to fill our tummies
with star apples and raspberries and mangoes.

Or chase the goats around the yard
and ride them like horses.

It is time to surrender the deeds of thy younger years
and to walk in the way of God as a man.

The day Michael left
to attend boarding school in the city,

I squeezed my nails into my hand until blood
pricked on my skin, because I did not want to cry.

Your tie is not straight. Straighten your tie.
And don't forget to keep your ears clean.

Oh, my boy.
Go and say goodbye to your papa now.

[ORGAN PLAYING SOLEMNLY]

– You will make me proud, son.
– Yes, I will, Papa.

– The time will pass quickly.
– The van is coming. I hear it, I hear it!

Michael.

I am going to the best school
in the whole world, Hortense.

And you will be staying
at a penny-a-week government school,

– skipping silly rhymes and doing baby sums.
– No, I won't.

– And counting frogs at the base of the tree.
– No, I won't.

– I feel sorry for you.
– Sorry for me? No one needs to feel sorry for me.

Michael... Michael, come now!

– Go then.
– Sorry. I said sorry.

– I forgive you. But I will get you back for it.
– Goodbye.

[ENGINE ROARS AWAY]

He came home only three times
and each time his head was bigger.

The last time, his voice was strange

and he did not want to talk to me
or to look for the woodpecker's nest.

But then, six weeks ago, Michael Roberts finished
school and came back home for good. And he was...

Michael? Look at you, son! I send a boy to boarding
school and see what they send me back. A man!

Hello, Mama.

– Papa.
– Welcome home, Michael.

Miss Jewel. Miss Jewel!
Oh, boy, how I miss you spice-up chicken!

– Ha-ha!
– [SCREAMS]

[HORTENSE LAUGHING]

– And who is this?
– You know who I am, Michael Roberts.

My, but Miss Hortense, you are all grown-up.

MR PHILIP: 'And God said let there be light,
and there was light.

'And God saw that the light was good,

'And God separated the light
from the darkness.

'God called the light Day
and the darkness he called Night.'

This is very interesting, Papa. But I have been taught
at school that the Earth moves around the sun.

– And that it is this movement which causes...
– Michael. It is rude to speak at the table.

Oh, Mama. I am a grown man now.

And I can assure you that it is quite normal
to discuss things at the table.

Tell me, Papa, what do you think of the notion
that men are descended from monkeys?

– Michael!
– Are you questioning the Lord thy God?

Are you presuming to question the teachings
of thy maker, the Almighty, the King of Kings?

No, Papa, but I believe it is a popular scientific
opinion that men are descended from apes.

– Have you heard of Mr Darwin, Papa?
– Enough!

There will be no blasphemy in this house.

[HORTENSE GIGGLES]

– Get out!
– I am asking for a civilised discussion.

Get out!

No.

Come. Come!

We will not eat with a blasphemer.
There will be no blasphemy in my house.

– Still cleaning the lamps?
– Yes.

– I'm sorry about your face.
– I forgive you.

Let me see.

Hm. No harm done.

[LAUGHS] I like the dress.

Oh. Mrs Ryder gave it to me.
It is one she has finished with.

– Mrs Ryder?
– The schoolteacher.

I am working at a church school.
Only as an assistant but...

– That's good.
– Yes.

I had to take in the dress a little
because Mrs Ryder is more...

We are very different shapes.

– And is there a Mr Ryder?
– Oh, yes. But...

But he is not as good as he ought to be.

You will see him driving around town
in his big American car,

– going places he should not go.
– Is that right?

No one can understand it
because Mrs Ryder is still quite a pretty lady.

She has blonde hair and pale, pale skin.

All the men are saying it is a crime
that she is left to walk around the town unescorted.

I don't know why I'm telling you all this.

We're making conversation.

There's not enough conversation
in this house.

So, Hortense,
are we going to look for the woodpecker?

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

– If you want to.
– Sure I want to.

– You are going to hold my legs?
– Of course I am. Trust me.

[THEY LAUGH]

– Three eggs! It is a fine sight!
– Not as fine as the sight from up here.

Michael Roberts!
You are a very mischievous boy...

man.

These last few weeks he has barely left my side.

Why, two weeks ago, at the end of the day,
I found him looking for me inside this schoolhouse.

[BIRDSONG]

– Michael. What are you doing here?
– I've come to escort you home. What else?

– I am perfectly capable of walking home alone.
– Woo-hoo!

– Mrs Ryder, this is my cousin, Michael Roberts.
– Mrs Ryder and I are already acquainted.

– Are you?
– Yes, of course. We... we met in church.

In church?
Oh, but Michael does not go to church.

– You must be mistaken.
– Oh, yes.

– Now where could we have met, Mrs Ryder?
– I... Well, I...

You ready, Hortense?

– Michael is always worrying about me.
– How sweet.

– Good day, Mrs Ryder.
– Good day.

[WAVES ROLLING]

Yesterday, we walked through the town together
and I heard someone murmur...

'What a fine young couple.'

I almost fainted with pride.

So you see, tonight I am certain
that he will come for me.

And if he does... when he does,
I will know that our destiny is sealed.

– [THUNDERCLAP]
– [MRS RYDER SCREAMS]

Please Mrs Ryder,
you must try to keep calm now,

What is happening? This can't be right.
Oh, my Lord, my Lord!

– [SOBBING]
– Please! You must try to breathe.

Oh, where is he? I want him. I want him!

Yes, I'm sure Mr Ryder is safe.

Wherever he happens to be,
I'm sure he will find shelter.

– [PIERCING SCREAM]
– Please Mrs Ryder, this will not help.

– Hello? Hello?
– Michael? Oh, he is here! He has come!

Michael Roberts. I am perfectly capable
of surviving a hurricane.

– [SCREAM]
– You should not...

It's all right. It's all right, I'm here now.

– Make it stop!
– Stella, Stella!

Stella?

No!

[YELLING]

[WIND ROARING, TREES CRACKING]

[BRAKES SCREECH, WIND SUBSIDES]

Road closed!
Move now. Find another way round.

– What's happening?
– Car gone into a tree. What an awful sight.

– Who is it? Whose car?
– The schoolteacher, Mr Ryder.

His body wrapped around the tree.
His clothes blown clean from his back.

Does anyone know where Mrs Ryder is?
She ought to be told.

– Does anyone know where Mrs Ryder is?
– I know where Mrs Ryder is.

Mrs Ryder is in the schoolhouse,
kissing Michael Roberts.

[DISTANT THUNDER RUMBLING]

Oh! Oh, it you, me sprigadee.

– Oh, where you bin nah?
– I took shelter for the night.

– What's happening?
– The boy he done a bad thing. A bad thing.

Where have you been?
Were you at the schoolhouse? Were you?

I was there yesterday.

They are saying that my son was caught
in an unholy embrace with that woman.

Did you know what he was doing with her?
Did you know?

No! Why are you shouting at me?
Why is this my fault?

MICHAEL: Go away! There's nothing to see.
Yeah, yeah! Nothing to see.

You'd think there'd be bigger stories today,
even in this sad little town.

– Where's Papa?
– Lying down.

– You'd better fetch him, tell him I'm leaving.
– What?

I'm going to England.
There's going to be a war, you know.

I will join the Royal Air Force,
fight for the Mother Country.

No. No. What are you talking about?
You can't go.

MR PHILIP: Let him go.
He is not welcome in this house.

He has brought shame to my name,
shame to this family. Let him go.

– Fine by me, Papa.
– No! No!

[SOBBING]

– Is she going with you?
– Who?

– Mrs Ryder. Stella.
– Course not!

She's with her God folk. She'll be back
in New Jersey by the end of the week.

– I don't understand.
– I wouldn't expect you to.

Do yourself a favour, Hortense
get away from this house,

from this small, small town
as fast as your legs can take you.

There's a whole world out there with real things
happening and people are really living their lives.

If by that you mean forgetting all God's teachings,
and losing all your morality and standards,

then thank you,
but I would prefer to stay at home.

You sound like Papa.

Goodbye, Hortense.

– I'm sorry.
– MISS MA: Michael! Michael!

♪ Master, the tempest is raging

♪ The billows are tossing high

♪ The sky is o'ershadowed with blackness

♪ No shelter or help is nigh

♪ Carest thou not that we perish?

♪ How canst thou lie asleep

♪ When each moment so madly is threat'ning

♪ A grave in the angry deep? ♪

[CRYING]

– No!
– Bernard...

I have said no. Let go of it!

But Bernard, we'll get it back.
We're just lending it.

It's doing nothing upstairs,
just sitting in those rooms covered in newspaper.

– It's a couple of beds, a table and...
– No, stop! Let go!

Oh, for goodness' sake. It's just
for a few months. They'll give it back!

– Who will? Who?
– Dora and her family, Mrs Palmer.

They came into the Rest Centre.
They've been bombed out...

– Oh for... No!
– Her husband's in the hospital.

– They've been given a flat but they haven't got...
– Are they our sort of people?

– What do you...?
– Are they?

Or are they like that last bunch you dragged in here
trying to help with their lice-ridden children...

Oh, we'd all be lice-ridden
if we'd been bombed out in the East End.

We most certainly would not!

[DING]

To be honest, I'm actually enjoying this.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

This is the most lively Bernard's been
since I married him... since I met him.

If only I'd known it took furniture
to get him going. Look at him!

He's so furious that the vein in his temple
that annoys me when he eats

is pumping away
like it's got a heart of its own.

– Take it to the van!
– No! Put that down!

You will not take it. I have said no.

How did I end up here?

In this lanky house in Earl's Court

married to a fella I've as much in common with
as a creature from another planet.

It's not what I imagined for myself.

But then again, I don't come from a place
where you do much imagining.

[PIGS SNORTING]

Growing up, I knew just one thing.

That I didn't want to spend my whole life
on that stinking farm!

With my dad butchering the animals
in the shed,

helping my mother with the meat pies.

[PIGS GRUNTING]

Swilling the blood
from my brothers' overalls.

Maid of all drudgery, that was me.

I'll tell you the story of my deliverance.
It came in an unlikely form.

The shop's getting too much for me
now that my poor dear Montgomery's gone.

[SIGHS]

It's very difficult when you've been
treated like a princess for 25 years

to find yourself alone again
and with everything to do.

It's a nice little earner, mind, and I do newspapers
now as well as the sweets and tobacco.

But I can't cope with being on my feet all day,
not with my bunions as they are.

You should try wearing proper shoes, Dot.
I've always said so.

So I was thinking about taking on a shop assistant.

I did start to look for someone locally, but then
I thought, what about my niece, Queenie?

I wonder if she might like to come and live in London
for a while and help her poor Auntie out.

– You what?
– Me?

I'd pay you a small wage
as well as your board and lodging.

And we'd have to sort you out
with some pretty clothes to wear.

– Do you always dress like that?
– She's been cleaning out the chicken sheds.

– What else is she supposed to wear?
– I have got one nice dress, my Sunday dress.

Well, we could go on a little shopping expedition
to Oxford Street. Ooh, I would enjoy that!

– So would I, Auntie.
– Now just a minute. We need her here.

It's the pies, you see. She's up at dawn
helping me and we've to work fast...

Couldn't you get someone from the village,
a miner's daughter like you did when I was little?

Oh, you know what they're like.
They never put the jelly in right.

– I've always to be watching them and...
– Mum, please.

You know I don't like working on the farm.
I wish I did but...

I should have seen this coming. Ever since
you announced that you're a vegetarian.

– I am a vegetarian.
– Have you ever heard the like? Queenie Bee.

– Our meat's not good enough for the likes of her.
– Now then. She didn't say that.

You're a butcher's daughter,
from a long line of butchers.

– It's supposed to be in your blood.
– Well, it's not in my blood.

Oh, dear. I can see I've put the cat
among the pigeons.

You haven't. You haven't, Auntie.
Mum. Dad. Please.

[♪ UPBEAT SWING]

[TRAM BELLS RINGING, HORNS HONKING]

– Are you going to show me?
– QUEENIE: Almost there.

Oh, you do scrub up well.
I knew you would.

– Yellow's definitely your colour.
– Is it?

Oh, yes. Turn round.

Yes. [CLICKING FINGERS]
We'll take both.

– And we'll take a cardigan in pink as well.
– Are you sure, Auntie?

Quite sure.
You look a proper confection.

Leave them on.
We'll go and have cake to celebrate.

I can see I'm going to have to be careful with you.
I shall lose you as soon as I've found you.

– You'll be snapped up by some lucky young admirer.
– Auntie!

You will, you know.

You'd like that, wouldn't you?
A nice young gentleman to walk out with?

It turned out I would.

Once I'd made my escape I found myself thinking
all sorts of possibilities in that department.

I knew what went on of course.
You can't grow up on a farm and not know.

I'd even been asked out once or twice by some
snotty-nosed miners' lads who I'd laughed at.

But I'd been to the pictures, too.

I'd seen those movie stars with the beautiful
powdered faces and glossy curls.

I knew there was such a thing as romance.

What if that could happen to me?
What if I could be adored, pursued?

I could get married,
have a home of my own, have babies.

Babies! When my brothers were very little
it'd been my job to look after them.

I can still remember
how they felt in my arms.

The warmth of them, the softness
of their little necks and hands.

Auntie kept a mirror behind the counter
in the shop for purposes of 'titivation'.

Sometimes, when it was quiet,
I'd take it out and stare at my reflection.

Miss Queenie Buxton.
Pretty, grown-up. This was me.

The first time Bernard came into the shop,
I hardly noticed him.

[BELL JANGLES]

Go on, I'll have two ounces
of Cherry Lips as well.

– I bet your lips taste like cherries.
– You're not likely to find out.

Ooh!

You're new here, aren't you?
What's your name? Let me guess.

– Sugarbaby? Sweetheart? Get it?
– It's Queenie.

Queenie? Well, if you ever need an handsome prince
to sweep you off your feet, I'm your man. See ya!

[BELL JANGLES]

– Can I help you?
– I was...

– I'm looking for The...
– The Times?

Yes. Yes, thank you.
I will take The Times.

Thank you. Good day.

Good day.

[BELL JANGLES]

– Did I just hear someone ask for The Times?
– Yes.

Oh! That'll be a proper gentleman then.
No spivs or cockneys ever read The Times.

– What did he look like?
– Er... tall, skinny. Not bad looking.

Ooh, we shall have to watch out for him.
Fetch me some more coconut ice, will you?

The second time he came in...

[BELL JANGLES]

– Good morning.
– Good morning. The Times?

Yes. Thank you.

Thank you.

– Rather inclement for the time of year.
– What's that?

– The weather. Rather cloudy.
– Yes. It is.

– Good day.
– [BELL JANGLES]

The third time he came in,
he just came straight out with it.

– Like he'd been practising.
– [BELL JANGLES]

I was wondering if you'd care to come for
a walk with me tomorrow afternoon in the park.

I've been assured it's to be a lovely day.

– AUNTIE: Yes!
– Good. I'll call for you at one.

I'm sorry, I don't believe we've ever
been introduced. Bernard Bligh.

– My name's...
– Queenie. Yes. I know.

Do you live close by?

About 15 minutes walk in that direction.
Nevern Street.

– Where do you work?
– Lloyds Bank. Clerk.

– Do you like it?
– It's a solid job. Some prospects, I like to think.

– Do you live on your own?
– With my father.

He was in the Great War.
He's... he has what they call shell shock.

Oh, dear. Shame. My dad tried to sign up
but they wouldn't have him. Weak heart.

[CHUCKLES]

They say silence is golden, but this one
was in danger of being burnt to a crisp.

– I grew up on a farm in Lincolnshire.
– Oh.

I ended up telling him anything and everything I could
think of, nattering away until it was time to go home.

Thank you. May I call for you on Sunday?
Around two?

Yes. If you like.

But he never says anything.
Except about the weather.

It's been over two months now
and I hardly know anything about him.

He's reserved.
That's a sure sign that he's a gentleman.

– Does he open doors for you?
– Yes.

Does he walk on the outside of you
when you're going down the road?

– Yes
– That's so you don't get splashed by a carriage.

When was the last time
you got splashed by a carriage?

He's odd, You should see him when
he's counting out his money to pay for tea.

Checking each coin,
putting them down in little piles.

– It's like he's backward.
– Oh, don't be daft.

You've found yourself a little gem, Queenie.
You'll be safe as houses with him.

– You don't think we're courting, do you?
– Of course you're courting.

But I thought... Well, don't people get
all dreamy when they're courting?

Oh, you don't want to bother
with any of that!

– ON FILM: I love you!
– I don't know.

– I have always loved you.
– I don't know. It...

– I will never stop loving you.
– It doesn't feel right.

Oh, my darling! My darling!

Kiss me.

Bernard, I've enjoyed our little outings together,

but I don't think we should
see each other any more.

No, Queenie, Please don't say that.
This means a lot to me.

I really am very fond of you.

I know that I'm older than you
and perhaps not as lively as you'd like,

– but over these last few months...
– Oh, I didn't think you'd be upset. It's just...

Please, please don't say any more.
Just give me another chance.

I was hoping to persuade you that...
that we should get engaged.

Oh!

Well... something to think about perhaps.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

– Never mind, then. See you again on Thursday.
– Yes. Thursday. Thank you.

In the end it was tragedy
that brought things to a head.

[NO VOICE]

[BELL TOLLS]

(LAUGHTER, APPLAUSE)

♪ Abide with me, fast falls the eventide

♪ The darkness deepens
Lord, with me abide

♪ When other helpers fail and comforts flee... ♪

Eh, dear. Death by coconut ice.

Yes.

Well, I suppose that's it now then.

The shop'll be sold. Never mind,
you can come back home now.

– There's plenty for you to do around the farm.
– What? Not on your Nellie, mother.

– But...
– No.

Actually, I've some good news for you.
I'm getting married, mother.

To Bernard Bligh.

[CHURCH BELLS PEELING]

[♪ ORGAN PLAYING 'ABIDE WITH ME']

[CLOCK TICKING]

– Queenie, this is my father, Arthur.
– Hello. It's very nice to meet you at last.

Oh, thank you.

It's a big place you've got here.

Three stories. But we only use four rooms
since mother died.

– When was that?
– 15 years ago.

– Well, perhaps we can open things up a bit.
– I'm not sure about...

I could give the whole place a clean
from top to bottom, get some more light in.

I think we could make it proper grand.

Father, would you put the kettle on?

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

Queenie, before we go upstairs...

I've rather made the assumption
that we'll be sleeping in the same bed.

– I hope that that's not...
– Oh, yes. Yes. That's fine.

Queenie, I probably should have said this
before we got married. I would like children.

Yes. Good. So would I.

He's very polite about it... 'relations'.

He unties his pyjama bottoms
and bunches the fabric into his hand

so they don't drop down
and spoil the surprise.

– Darling?
– He always asks like that,

Then he gets into bed,
pulls my nightie up under the covers

until he can slip his hands
between my legs and part them.

Then he rolls on top of me, fumbles about
like he's searching for a light switch in the dark...

..and sticks it in.

A held breath that turns him pink, a grunt,
spittle all down my neck, and then it's over.

There's been no babies yet.

I even went to the doctor's
a couple of months back to see if he could help.

'I take it you are having normal conjugal relations,
Mrs Bligh? Do you relax? Do you enjoy it?'

'Not so's you'd notice,' I said.
He told me to go back home and try harder.

– Queenie! Are you listening to me?
– Yes.

It isn't even our furniture to give away.
My mother and father bought that furniture.

Right. Let's ask Arthur, shall we,
see what he thinks?

Arthur! Can you come here?

– Don't be... You know he can't say...
– Course he can. He's not daft.

– Arthur, there's a family at the Rest Centre...
– She has no idea what they'll do with it.

..who have absolutely nothing.
Can we lend them a bed or two?

– She doesn't know a thing about these people.
– A chair to sit down on. They've got kids, Arthur.

– Can we?
– Good. Right. Take it to the van, please.

– I want something in writing, a contract.
– Oh, for goodness' sake!

You're too trusting. You can't help everyone.

Isn't it enough that you're working
at the Rest Centre day and night?

– You're worn out.
– There's a war on, Bernard.

– I am aware of that.
– Are you?

Because there's thousands of people out there
having much more of a war than you are.

– Look, Bernard, that was...
– [AIR-RAID SIREN]

Oh, no, no! Could you not just
give it a rest for one night?

– Where's his gas mask?
– It's all right, Arthur.

– We have to go to the shelter, Father.
– They're coming already.

What sort of a warning's that?

– Father!
– It's too late. Forget the shelter.

– He has to.
– Just get down, will you?

– We should go to the shelter.
– They're close by.

– [AEROPLANE ENGINES]
– Oh, God. Oh, God.

– [BOMBS WHISTLING]
– Oh, no!

[CRASH]

[BERNARD SPLUTTERING]

– That was the roof. Oh, God!
– I don't think it was us.

The whole thing's going to come down.
It's going to come down.

It's all right.
It's all right, Bernard. I'll go and look.

No. No. No. Not you. Not you.
Never. Never. Never you.

It was close but I'm sure it wasn't us.

It wasn't us. It's all right.

There, there. There, there.

I want you to know, Queenie...
I do love you.

Here have some PC3s.

I'm that tired I don't know
whether I'm coming or going.

– Look at them all
– Best not.

Just look at the next one in front of you.

Oh, I've got a favour to ask. Didn't you say
you've some spare rooms in your house?

Yes, but...

Could you put a flight crew up
for a couple of nights?

– End of next week?
– Franny...

It's just three of them. My sister's sweet
on one of them and if they stay locally...

– Franny, I can't. Bernard won't have it.
– They're none of your rubbish.

They're proper flyers. 103 Squadron Lancasters.
They've only got three days' leave.

– I'm sorry. You know I would if I could.
– Ah, well. Worth a try.

– Queenie?
– What are you doing here?

– Is something wrong? It's not Arthur, is it?
– No. But I need to talk to you and...

You didn't come home last night
or the night before so...

Sorry. It just wasn't worth trying to get back.
We've been that busy.

– And with the streets as they are...
– I've signed up. RAF. Boys in blue.

Is this because of
what I said the other day? I didn't...

You were right. Can't leave it any longer.
Have to do my bit.

– Are you not too old?
– Apparently not. Keen to have me.

Won't be flying of course, eyesight.

But I go up to Skegness for basic training.
Then I'll be shipped out.

– When?
– Tomorrow morning.

So, you'll come home tonight?

– Yes.
– Good.

I wonder where they'll send you.

– You will write?
– Of course.

About father. I realise it's a lot to ask...

It's fine. We'll be fine.
You'll be back before we know it.

Right.

Goodbye, Father.

– Goodbye.
– Bye, then.

[DISTANT RUMBLE OF EXPLOSIONS]

[ARTHUR WEEPING]

Eh!

Look on the bright side, Arthur.

He's that thin, the enemy'll have a job
to hit him. Especially if he turns sideways.

[LAUGHS, CRIES]

Has that tickled you, has it?
Come on then. I'll pop the kettle on.

[DOORBELL]

Arthur, that'll be them.
Get the door, will you?

[DOORBELL]

Oh, Arthur. It's just the front door.

– Mrs Bligh?
– That's right. Call me Queenie.

– I do hope you were expecting us.
– Yes. Come in.

Just through there.
This is my father-in-law, Arthur.

– How do you do, sir?
– He doesn't speak.

How do you do, sir?

– This is Ginger, by the way. And I'm Kip.
– Sleep a lot do you?

It's short for Kipling. My mother loves him.
She also loves Trollope so I got off lightly.

– I was told there'd be three of you.
– Yes, there's one more just coming.

– Good. Because I've made up three beds.
– Here we are.

Good evening.
This is really very kind of you, Mrs Bligh.

I'm Michael.
Flight Sergeant Michael Roberts.

[♪ 'Goodbye, Little Girl' by Archie Lewis]

♪ Goodbye, little girl, goodbye

♪ Just wipe off those tears, don't cry

♪ Whatever I do... ♪

My mother always say violence solves nothing.
And I always say she right.

But man, I got to confess to you,
right now, this feels good.

♪ ..I will think of you
Your cheerful smile... ♪

One part of my brain is saying,

'Gilbert, you will be made to pay dearly
for this moment of profound satisfaction.'

But man, this the sweetest moment
of my war so far.

♪ Our love will remain ever true... ♪

But please, don't judge me yet.
Allow me to explain.

[PANTING]

Let me take you back to the RAF recruiting office
in Kingston on the day I sign up.

– So. Gilbert Joseph
– That's me.

– Born in Jamaica? Both parents British Jamaican?
– Yes, sir.

Although my father is Jewish.
Was Jewish. I don't know if that...

Good Lord! I didn't know
there were any Jews in Jamaica.

Oh, yes, sir.
There are quite a number of Jews here.

Although my father is a Christian now.

Ever since he meet Jesus
on the battlefield at Ypres.

He says that the Lord shared a tin of fish with him
and lent him some writing paper.

[LAUGHS] He only says that when he's drunk, mind.

Well, Jewish heritage. Even more reason
to join the fight against Herr Hitler.

– Yes, sir!
– And you've passed some exams, I see.

Yes. At St John's College. It is my plan
to go to a university and study the law.

– I mean to be a lawyer.
– Do you?

Excellent. Well, you're certainly
the sort of chap we need.

With these grades we'll be getting you trained up
as a wireless operator, or an air engineer.

Or an air gunner, second only to the pilot,
in terms of respect.

– How does that sound?
– That sound fine, sir.

Then after the war,
with an impressive service record...

..I think Civvy Street will positively welcome you
for further study. Congratulations.

Why you wanna go licky-licky
to the British?

– [SIGHS] This is mi cousin, Elwood.
– Cha!

Good man!

This is a white man's war.
Why you wanna go lose your life for a white man?

Have you heard
what this Hitler fellow is saying?

He is saying we are like monkeys.
'Anthropoid'.

I looked it up in a dictionary. 'Resembling a human,
but primitive like an ape'

Lose your life for Jamaica.
Independence, that is worth a fight.

Lose your life to see a black man
in the Governor's house

doing more than just sweeping the floor.

– This war will change nothing for you and me.
– It will get me off this island for one thing.

And I will be an air gunner.
And I will go to an English university.

Is that what them tell you? [LAUGHS]

Man, the English are liars. They will tell you
anything to make you do their dirty work.

The British have their back turned now.
Now is the time to step up the fight.

Elwood, I'll tell you what this is about.

– You are jealous.
– What?

Look at me and tell me honestly that I do not look
devastatingly handsome in this blue uniform.

[LAUGHING] What?

Tell me the women are not going to take
one look at me and fall down at mi feet.

[LAUGHS] You kidding me?

[BOTH LAUGHING]

Now come. The bar is waiting.
You can use me as bait.

Yes!

Now I will show you what happened when I finally
arrived in England after my basic training.

[AIRCRAFT PASSING]

I was posted to an RAF camp
in a place called Lincolnshire.

At ease. Stop shivering!

This is Flight Sergeant Thwaites, better known
to us West Indian recruits as Sergeant Bastard.

Right, Airmen. You lot are being
remustered for trade training.

– As of today.
– What?

We need ground staff,
and plenty of them. Pronto. Stop that!

I think there has been some mistake, Sergeant.

When I joined up I was told I would be
an air gunner, or a wireless operator or...

This is a war, not a shop.

– I was told a posting overseas.
– Well, you are overseas, aren't you? Bingo.

Now, a little bird tells me you can
drive a car, Joseph. That right?

– Drive?
– Yeah. You know... brum, brum, beep, beep.

No, sir. How would I learn to drive?
No cars where I come from, sir.

Driving since the age of ten.
That's what I heard.

No, Flight Sergeant. That is someone else.

– Stop taking the piss, Joseph
– I...

Motor transport. Dismissed.

Man! I could almost hear Elwood laughing.
Six months of driving a coal truck.

Six months of driving to railway stations
and shovelling that filthy stuff around.

Man, it felt like a punishment. Coal dust in mi hair,
under mi clothes, mi lungs thick with silt.

I tell you, I lived for my few hours off.

Sometimes, mi comrades and I
would walk into the village near the camp.

The first time we saunter down
that pretty little main street...

It wasn't hostility. More a mix
of amazement and curiosity and fear.

I swear, if they'd had a stick long enough
they'd have poked us with it.

– Hello.
– Good afternoon.

They do speak English!

– Where you from, then?
– The West Indies, ma'am.

– The what now? Is that in Africa?
– No, ma'am. It is in the Caribbean.

[BABY CRIES

Africa? How come they know nothing
about their own empire?

Two weeks ago,
I came into the village on my own.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

Is there something I can do for you, sir?

Can I help you?
Do you want this bench, is that it?

There. It is all yours. You are most welcome.

Hey!
What is it you want, sir?

You want to touch my black skin
for luck, is that it?

[BOMBERS PASSING OVERHEAD]

Go boy!

You can make it! Go boy!

[LAUGHS] You see that?

You all right, man?

Calm yourself, my man.

I don't want people thinking I harmed you.

What is it you want, sir? Tell me.

What!? No! You dirty, dirty little...

Oh.

'My name is Arthur Bligh.

'If you find me please return me
to 21, Nevern Street, London SW5.'

London? You a very long way from home.

'Please return me to Hollishead Farm,
Honington, Lincolnshire.'

I know this place,
I have passed it a few times.

Come on then, Arthur.
We'd better do what it say.

– Sergeant Michael Roberts... Oh!
– It's all right, madam. I don't mean you any harm.

– Where did you find him?
– In the village. He wouldn't leave me alone.

– Started following me.
– Did he now?

It's not him, you daft beggar. It's not him.

Sorry. Inside now, Arthur.
Get those mucky boots off.

Oh! Now I, like every Jamaican man.

am adept at taking in the whole spectacle
of a woman in the blink of an unsuspecting eye.

But it is hard to say whether this is a training
or a natural-born gift.

Man, this woman was so lovely
I wanted to rub my hands together

and kiss that crazy man
that brought me to this place.

Sorry. He brought you home for me.
He thinks you're someone else.

Don't tell me. Paul Robeson.

Paul Robeson?
You think a lot of yourself, don't you?

Anyway, he wouldn't know Paul Robeson
if he fell on him.

Madam, if Paul Robeson were
to fall upon him,

there would have been no need
for you to come to the door.

I could have posted
the gentleman underneath.

– Thank you for bringing him back.
– Is he your father?

– Father-in-law. A wedding present.
– Is he all right?

I don't think so, do you?
He hasn't been right since the last war.

I brought him here to get him away
from those blinking buzz bombs in London.

This is my Dad's place,

but you lot make such a racket I'm thinking
of taking him back for some peace and quiet.

– So, if not Paul Robeson, who him think I was?
– Oh, just someone else I knew. Like you.

– An RAF man?
– A coloured chappie. Like you.

I can assure you, madam,
there is no other coloured chappie like me.

– [SHE LAUGHS]
– I make you laugh at last.

– Trying to make me laugh, were you?
– Laughter is part of mi war effort.

Queenie Bligh.
That's Mrs Queenie Bligh to you.

Gilbert Joseph.
That's Airman Gilbert Joseph to you.

[LAUGHS] Well, Airman,

I suppose I'd better invite you in for a cup of tea,
seeing as you've come all this way.

Regrettably, I will have to decline
your kind offer, Mrs Bligh.

My sergeant, Sergeant Bastard,
will be awaiting me at the camp.

Wait a moment, then.

Oh! Although having a cup of tea with her
would almost have been worth a court-martial.

Take this for your walk back.

Oh, no. I can't.
Surely your husband would miss it?

My husband's in Burma.
I don't think it'll keep till he gets back.

Sergeant Bastard says we mustn't accept food
from the locals because of the shortages.

And I say, never be polite
in a butcher's house.

– Thank you.
– No, thank you.

– Good day, Mrs Bligh.
– Good day, Airman.

Ha! Ah! Mm!

Mm... Mm... Mm...

Man, that pie taste good!

Partly because it came from her hand,

and partly because it was the first thing
I had eaten in England

that did not look like
it had been eaten once before.

(LAUGHTER)

Why the British boil up everything?

How they built their empire
when them army march on nothing but mush

should be one of the wonders of the world.

Hey, you!

So, we arrive at today. Today is the last day
before I am posted further north.

A last afternoon off, and I come into
this small town in search of some amusement.

Hey you! Salute your superiors, boy.

White American GIs, they all over England now.
And why, how they hate us black British recruits.

These GIs want to kill me
more than the Nazis do.

– Salute your superiors!
– I don't see any superiors.

– You a private. You no different from me, man.
– What the fuck did you say?

Airman!
You haven't seen Arthur, have you?

Don't tell me you lose him again.
You have to take more care of the man, Mrs Bligh.

Don't be cheeky.
I only turned my back for a minute.

Oh, there he is.
Arthur, where've you been?

– AUDIENCE: Ah!
– Oh, you soft beggar.

Perhaps we should go somewhere else?
I could take you for a cup of tea.

We were just going to the pictures.
I love the pictures. Do you fancy joining us, Airman?

Oh! Why, that would be delightful, Mrs Bligh.

– Good. Come on then.
– What's playing?

– Gone With The Wind.
– Appropriate.

[♪ NEWSREEL THEME]

ANNOUNCER: This is the Gaumont British News,
presenting the truth to the free peoples of the world.

Tickets.

♪ Goodbye, little girl, goodbye... ♪

You! You! You have to go up the back.

Queenie, she say we have to sit at the back.

– Not her. You.
– But we're all together, madam.

– Ssh!
– It's the rules. You have to sit with them.

Madam, I am not an American soldier.
I am with the British RAF.

– No segregation in the British Forces.
– QUEENIE: What's going on?

Our other customers don't like
to sit next to coloureds.

What other customers? Yanks you mean?

– Look, it'll be all right. He can sit between us.
– Wait, Queenie.

– Madam, in this country I sit where I like.
– Ssh!

There is no segregation,
no Jim Crow in this country.

– Who?
– Jim Crow.

Well, if he's coloured
he'll have to sit up the back.

– This is England, not Alabama.
– Sit where you're told, boy.

None of these coloured men
should have to sit at the back.

– Boy, I said sit where the lady tells you.
– Oh, put a sock in it.

You tell 'em love! Ruddy loud-mouthed Yanks.
Think they own the place.

– Come, Queenie, let us sit down.
– You do as you're told, nigger.

Hey! Who are you calling nigger? Stay man!

– Why don't you shut up?
– You shut up, nigger lover!

– Oh, any day over you lot!
– You tell 'em love.

– Come, Queenie.
– Stay, stay, stay, stay!

[CHANTING, ANGRY VOICES]

Stop the film!

[WHISTLE BLOWING]

[GUNSHOT, GUNSHOT]

– Goddammit!
– Arthur!

– Stay back! Everyone stay back!
– Arthur!

– Stay back!
– But it's Arthur!

– What a bloody disgrace!
– Move out! Everybody move out!

Arthur! Come on, now. Come on.

[MOANING]

Queenie.

Arthur.

What have you done?
What did you do that for? It's only Arthur!

[VOICE BREAKING] No! No! Queenie!

CHURCHILL: Yesterday morning, at 2.41 am,

the representatives
of the German High Command

signed the act of unconditional surrender
in Europe to the Allied Expeditionary Force.

[♪ JAMAICAN MENTO PHRASE]

Advance Britannia!
God save the King!

♪ Long time, gal, mi never see you
Come mek me hold your hand!

[♪ MENTO RHYTHM]

♪ Long time, gal, mi never see you
Come mek me hold your hand!

♪ Long time, gal, mi never see you
Come mek me hold your hand!

♪ Hear that John Crow sit on the treetop
Pick all the blossom

♪ Mek me hold your hand, gal
Mek me hold your hand! ♪

Michael?

♪ Mek me hold your hand, gal
Mek me hold... ♪

– Michael!
– Oh, sorry. Sorry, I didn't see you.

– You are not Michael.
– No. I...

Get your hands off me!

– Woah! Calm down, nah.
– Look what you have done!

[LAUGHING] I'm sorry. It was an accident.

You are a big, clumsy oaf!
You should look where you are going.

Whoa! This your idea of a hero's welcome, miss?

– You want me to do the back for you?
– No, I do not.

[LAUGHS] Man, you some kind of spitfire!

♪ Away and wheel and tun mi

♪ You wan' me fi follow
Knock mi belly pon tambourine! ♪

Go away!

♪ Wheel and tun mi
Away and wheel and tun mi

♪ You wan' me fi follow
Knock mi belly pon tambourine! ♪

Wait! Are you perchance acquainted
with an airman named Michael Roberts?

Ah, that's why you down here and all dressed up.
You are looking for your sweetheart.

– He is not my sweetheart. He's my cousin.
– [LAUGHS] Oh, your cousin.

– Do you know him or not?
– You know his squadron? When you last hear from him?

My family had a telegram in April 1944
to say that he is missing.

I am still waiting for him to return.

What?

– This telegram say 'Missing in action'?
– Yes. I believe that was the phrase it used.

Miss, when a telegram say 'Missing in action',
it generally mean that the person is...

Man, no one ever tell you this?
It means that the person has passed away.

This is the British.

If they had meant 'passed away'
they would have said 'passed away'.

Michael is not the sort of person
to 'pass away'.

You want to come and get a glass
of that lemonade they serving?

You on your own.
Looks like I'm on my own now.

I do not walk about the streets of Kingston
on my own. I am with my friend, Celia.

She your imaginary friend?

She is my colleague
and she is over there somewhere.

Oh, colleague? What you do then?

We are teachers.
Not that it's any of your business.

Man, if my teachers had looked like you,
I would have gone to school more often.

– That is a joke. I did very well at school.
– Congratulations.

– I'll see you around, Miss Spitfire.
– That is most unlikely.

Why? This a small island, you know.

♪ Oh... come let me hold your hand
Wheel and tun mi

♪ Hold your hand
Wheel and tun mi

♪ Hold your hand

♪ Oh, come let me hold your ♪

I've been looking into your husband's case
since receiving your letters... Letters.

"Bernard Bligh. Airman.
298 Repair and Salvage Unit.

– Maintenance Engineer.
– Yes.

– I take it there's still been no word?
– No. The last letter I got was around VE Day.

The thing is, Mrs Bligh,
according to our records,

your husband was demobbed
at the end of last year, November 1946.

Right. I see.

Rather late, of course.
His unit was one of the unlucky ones.

After business with the Japs was wrapped up
they got sent into India, peace-keeping.

But Bernard didn't sign up for that.
He just signed up for the war.

Quite. I'm afraid a lot of the men felt
the same.

– So, where is he then?
– Yes.

I must say that, very often when a chap
fails to come home after his demob,

it's because he...

Because he doesn't want to come home.
Well, Bernard's not like that.

– Bernard would want to come home.
– Oh, I'm sure.

I must say, if I were married to you
I would want to come home, too.

There is one piece of information I could give you.
I have rather hesitated to do so.

What is it?

I can see you are a strong
and sensible woman.

Your husband served a short spell in military prison
towards the end of his time in India.

– Prison?
– A two-month sentence.

– What on earth for?
– Disobeying orders. Losing his weapon.

There are always reasons,
stories behind these things.

The lead-up to this Partition business
was particularly testing.

Seems he was a good chap in all other respects.

But what am I supposed to do now?

I've got a ruddy great house in Earl's Court
that's falling down. I've got bills to pay.

And what am I? Am I widow or what?

[DRUM TAPS]

[GIGGLING] Hortense, I am so excited
that you will meet my RAF man at last.

[CLAMOUR OF VOICES]

We should not stay here. There is another of those
rallies happening. People were injured yesterday.

Hortense, my honey, you worry too much.

I'm sure my RAF man will ask me again
if I will go to England with him. [CHUCKLES]

What do you think of that?
He served there in the war.

– Have I told you that before?
– Once or twice.

In England I will have a big house
with a bell on the front door,

and I will ring the bell
'ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling'!

– What do you think of that, Hortense?
– My, my, Celia Langley.

In England, I will have a lace tablecloth
with fine bone-china tea cups.

What do you think of that, Hortense?

– I think it is a pleasant dream for you, Celia.
– It is not just a dream.

I do not see how you can go to England,
given your particular circumstances.

[ANGRY VOICES]

Oh, look, there he is!

– Is my hair still neat?
– Hair like yours will never be neat. But it will suffice.

Gilbert!

Well, hello again.

– You!
– Have you two met before?

Don't tell me this the friend
you always talking to me about?

Why not tell me it little Miss Spitfire?

– Have you found your cousin yet?
– What cousin? What are you two talking about?

– I met her on my first day home. I picked her up.
– You knocked me down.

You picked her up? He picked you up?

Gilbert, you coming to the rally?

What is this? You have two women on the go
and you keeping them both to yourself?

I am not 'on the go'.

This Celia's friend, Miss Spitfire.

GILBERT: She a bit ferocious.

Gilbert, this is my very best friend, Hortense.

– You coming to the rally?
– Do I look like I'm coming to the rally?

– Are you going to hear Mr Bustamante speak?
– When Busta speak I'm always there.

Not like him. He is not interested
in his country's independence.

– He prefer to go licky-licky to the British.
– Hey!

There's no licky-licky about it.
Way more opportunities in England.

Dirty work! What job is it they offer you
when you finish your soldier-boying?

Baking! [LAUGHS]

– What happened to the big promise of university?
– They just sorting themselves out nah.

Even baking got to be better
than standing in line fi hand-outs.

Better than the job we did last week. We spend last
week in a field burying the corpses of dead cattle.

– You nah know what you talkin' 'bout!
– Diseased cattle.

That the only work we could get.
Just about sum up this island right now.

You need to have a likkle faith.
You see, when we in charge of Jamaica...

You will work for a black man
instead of a white man.

– You're dreamer, Elwood.
– And you not?

If you two boys were in my class I woulda told you off
for squabbling. Wouldn't I, Hortense?

– MAN: Elwood!
– Yeah, man. Soon come.

[DISTANT SPEECH]

Would you like to come to the rally with me?
Listen to Busta speak some sense?

I do not attend public rallies.

Oh! Well, I can lift you high-high on mi shoulders
so that you can see above the crowd.

[LAUGHING]

– You think this is funny, Celia?
– I'm sorry, but it was quite funny.

Later, man. We make a nice foursome.

'When Busta speak, I'm always there'.
Only a fool would stay on this island right now.

– Oh, I agree, Gilbert.
– England is where the future lies.

Oh, Gilbert, tell Hortense
about all the things you saw in England.

Why not?

There are so many fine sights in England.
Let me ask you this one question

You ever see a picture
of the House of Parliament in London?

It is some sight, let me tell you.

When you stand there before it,
it look to all the world like a fairy-tale castle.

You think dragons will come out
and breathe fire on you.

– Oh, I would love to see that. Wouldn't you, Hortense?
– Yes. Yes, I would.

– Then come to England with me, Celia.
– Oh, Gilbert.

What do you think, Hortense, shall I go?

Why not? As soon as I have saved up the money
we will get on a boat.

– But what about my class? I have a job, you know.
– Your friend here can teach your class for you.

– What do you say? Will you come, Celia?
– Yes, Gilbert. I shall go.

Good. Good!
Hortense will take care of everything.

[RAISED VOICES]

She will stay here and write to us of the rallies
and the fights and the blights

– and the earthquakes.
– And the hurricanes.

While we sip tea and search for dragons
in the House of Parliament.

Oh, poor Hortense! I feel sorry for you.

But Celia, what about your mother?
Am I to look after her, too?.

Bring your mother.
We will row her on the Thames.

Or leave her.
What is wrong with your mother?

Surely she has told you?

Oh, dear.

Celia's mother is not at all well.
In fact, you might have seen her about the town.

She is the one who wears
the child's party dress and the orange wig.

Sometimes she grabs people in the street
and tries to kiss them.

Poor Celia is the only one who can control her.

Because, you see, Celia's mother
is unfortunately completely mad.

– I'm sorry to hear that about your mother.
– Yes, I am also sorry for her.

Because it is quite impossible that Celia
could leave her, being an only child as well.

– May I speak to you alone for a moment, Hortense?
– Why of course, Celia.

I thought it would be better if he...

Celia!

[CELIA SOBBING]

Hello?

– Hello?
– Oh!

Sorry. The front door was open. I called out.

– Sergeant Michael Roberts.
– Just Michael Roberts now.

– Nice suit.
– Thank you.

– You want a hand with that?
– Oh. No. Don't worry.

I wasn't expecting anyone.

I'm glad to find you still live here.
You on your own? Where's Arthur?

– That's a long story. But... he's dead.
– Oh, no. I'm sorry to hear that.

I was looking forward to playing
another hand of cards with him.

I was hoping he would show me
how he cheated me out of all mi money that night.

[LAUGHS] There was more to Arthur
than met the eye.

There was.

– What about your husband?
– Another long story. He's not back.

I was hoping... Would it be possible
for me to stay the night?

Yes. Er... Yeah, it would.
I think I can accommodate you.

In fact, you can take your pick of rooms.

Thank you. I'm sailing to Canada tomorrow,
so I won't be under your feet for long.

– Blimey. Canada.
– I did my training there.

Huge skies. Huge opportunities.
I can't wait to get back.

Come in!

– I've been quite worried about you, actually.
– Oh?

Only I bumped into Franny last year
and she told me about Kip. And I thought perhaps...

No. I was the lucky one. I had a soft landing.
Sprained ankle, that's all.

Kip went down with the plane, and Ginger...

We used our parachutes,
but Ginger's caught fire.

– I'm so sorry. They were really nice lads.
– They were.

– Where were you? I mean, where did you land?
– Over France.

I landed in a field. Managed to hide.
[LAUGHS]

I dug turnips from the soil
with my hands and eat them raw.

Then the farmer found me. Couldn't believe his eyes,
a black man in the middle of his field? Hey!

He hid me for months. Then he handed me over
to the Americans. They passed me on to the British.

– Thank God.
– Funny. I'd had a bad feeling about that mission.

I'd lost my good luck charm.
Kip said I could share his.

Must have taken more than
my share of the luck.

It wasn't in here, was it? Your wallet.

I found it on the steps just after you'd left.
I tried coming after you but you were all long gone.

Is the picture of your family?

I hope you don't mind, I looked inside
in case there was an address.

Sweet little girl. Is she your sister?

I lost my family...

..in a hurricane.

This was my good luck charm.

– You kept it.
– Yes. I hoped you might come back.

You kept it in your pocket.

– What's funny?
– Your palms. They're blacker than mine.

GILBERT: [LAUGHING] Miss Spitfire!

You seen this? Empire Windrush,
sailing for England. Empire Day.

– Man, I wish I could be on that ship.
– Perhaps you could be.

You seen how much it cost?
£28 and ten shillings.

That's £28 and ten shillings I have not got.

– I will lend you the money.
– What? Sorry, I don't understand.

Prudence. Something my uncle taught me.
A little of my wages every week.

– You can pay me back.
– Oh, I surely would.

No, what I don't understand is
why you would lend me the money.

So you can go to England.

I will lend you the money, we will be married

and you can send for me to come to England
when you have a place for me to live.

– Whoa! Whoa!
– (AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

Just say that again,
because I think mi ears playing a trick on me.

A single woman cannot travel on her own.
It would not be respectable.

But a married woman might go
wherever she pleases.

Marry me, and go to England.

QUEENIE: This isn't me!

Mrs Queenie Bligh isn't even here.

This woman is a beauty.
He can't get enough of her.

This woman is as sexy
as a starlet on the silver screen.

This woman is desirable, wild with desire,

clawing his back and crying out
till his mouth fills hers with his eager tongue.

This isn't me.

Mrs Queenie Bligh works out what's for dinner
during conjugal relations with her husband.

But this woman... this woman pants
and thrusts and bites and yelps.

This woman is far, far gone.

Live. Electric. Bright. Bright. Bright!

Man, this woman don't even like me
as far as I can tell.

My face seems to distress her,
mi jokes confuse her.

She surely thinks she's better than me.

Oh, she's pretty. Even her lips might be sweet
if they weren't always pinched up.

How this woman learn to sneer so?

But England...

I am sorry. Celia, I am sorry but I cannot be
the fool who is left behind again.

It is better that I go to England.

England will give me a fine welcome
because of my pale, pale skin and my education.

England is my golden life.

I'm done with this small island.

I stay here,
I become one of those big-talk men

with small coins jangling in mi ragged pockets
even as I tell my tales.

How I ever become a lawyer if I stay here?

Man, there is no decision to make.

But this is not what I imagine. This...

In England, I will have a smart front door

and I will ring the bell, 'ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling'.

I will be a teacher,
greeted with manners and respect.

And no one... no one will feel sorry for I.

No. Come, Gilbert.

This woman has guessed your price,
and it is the price of a ticket to England.

[♪ SENTIMENTAL STRINGS]

[MUSIC OVER CONVERSATION]

You won't get to England forgetting
all about me and leave me here?

Of course not. As soon as I have
somewhere to stay I'll write to you.

Hortense, can I have a kiss nah?

Just one? We married, after all.

There may be women
who will turn your head in England.

You jealous already?

No. But you must always remember
what you have promised me.

We have a deal, Hortense.

Look, I give you my RAF salute.

That is the salute of a gentleman.

I will see you soon, Hortense.

[♪ MUSIC SWELLS]

Gilbert! Gilbert!

Send for me!

Don't forget! Send for me!

Please.

[DOORBELL RINGING]

[DOORBELL FADING]

HORTENSE: A little of my wages every week.
You can pay me back...

[DOORBELL]

HORTENSE: I will lend you the money.

We will be married,
and you can send for me to come to England

when you have a place for me to live.

I do hope the weather is pleasant there.

And you won’t get to England,
forgetting all about me and leave me here?

And see... And see that you haven’t
forgotten about me...

[DOORBELL]

[DOORBELL]

– [DOORBELL]
– [GROANING]

[SIGHS]

[CLEARS THROAT]

No! No! Oh, no, no, no, no!

No, shit!

[DOORBELL]

Not much further now!

[CLEARS THROAT]

Here we are!

[HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY]

Yes.

Well, show me the rest.

Show me the rest, nah.
I am tired from the long, long journey.

The other rooms, Gilbert.

The ones you say you so busy
making nice for me

that you forget to come
and meet me at the dock.

– But... this is it.
– I beg your pardon?

This is it. This is the room I am living.

– Just this?
– Yes. This is it.

– Just this?
– What you expect? Yes, just this.

There has been a war. Houses bombed.
I know plenty people living worse than this.

Gilbert!

Sorry. You're going to have
to move that trunk, you know.

– You can't just leave it by the steps.
– Course. I come nah.

I would say someone'll make off with it
except it's that bloody heavy.

I come nah. I get Winston to help me.

Oh, I don't think that's Winston in his room.
I think it's Kenneth. They're twins, you see.

But the one who's in there now just tried to look
up my skirt so I'm pretty sure it's Kenneth.

Right. I'll get Kenneth to help me, then.
I won't be long.

So, you're Gilbert's wife!
What's your name again?

– Hortense.
– Hortense. Funny name.

My name's Mrs Bligh, but you can call me
Queenie if you like. Everyone here does.

Would you like that?

– Cat got your tongue?
– What cat?

Oh! No! It's just an expression.
It means... It means you're not saying much.

Don't worry, you'll soon pick up English.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

He didn't come to meet you, then?
Men, eh?

I'm sure he meant to.
He told me he was going to.

So, how long have you
and Gilbert been married?

How... long... have you...?

Gilbert and I have been married
for six and a half months.

– Six? Six months?
– That is what I said.

What, altogether?
But Gilbert's been here about four.

– You're newly-weds then. Sweet!
– I suppose so.

Did you say 'I suppose so?'
You don't sound too happy about it.

Oh no, what are they doing?

You know that bannister's dodgy,
don't you? Watch out for the paintwork.

Man, what you got in here? Your mother?

You may place it in that corner
and please be careful.

Be careful! That is a very expensive trunk.

– [BREATHLESS] Kenneth, this is Hortense, mi wife.
– How do you do?

– What part of the island you from?
– I have been living in Kingston but...

– What your name before you marry him?
– My name was Roberts.

– What ship you come on?
– I...

You meet a man on the ship from Buff Bay?

– Him name Clinton?
– No, I...

So, what you got in the trunk?
Apart from your mother.

– I have my possessions in that trunk.
– Any rum? Mango? Guava.

Tell me you got guava.
Guava fetch a good price right now.

I know one of the boys give me half his wage
to place him tongue in a guava.

– Thank you for your help, Kenneth!
– What? Surely you got something for me, man?

[LAUGHS] I tell you what.

You can take a shilling off
the six shillings you already owe me.

You sure you haven't got any rum, nah?

Cha, why don't you tell her to bring
some rum with her?

– Goodbye, Kenneth!
– You goin' man?

Oh! Oh. I must be gone.

Leave you two alone.
Six months! Ho! That a long time.

– That man is your friend?
– Why you no sit down nah?

– Why would you choose such a friend?
– Any boy from back home a friend here, believe me.

Take off your coat nah. The fire is on so...

Oh, it gone out.
I'll have to put more money in the meter.

Where I put that shilling?
I had it put aside special.

– You keep your money in the bed?
– No.

But when I was sleeping
it must have fallen out of mi pocket.

– Oh. So you were sleeping then?
– No. I just lie down...

– So that why you no there to meet me.
– No. I came...

What is it you write in your letter?
'I will be at the dockside to meet you.'

'You will see me there, jumping and waving
and calling your name with longing in my tone.'

Hortense, Hortense, let me tell you.
I worked a shift at the Post Office last night.

In the morning I went straight to the dock
but there was no ship.

So they tell me to come back later
when the ship will arrive.

So I go home and take the opportunity
of fixing up the place nice for you.

Oh, yes. See how nice it is(!)

And I just lie for a minute and I fall asleep.
I so tired.

Next thing I know you are ringing the bell...

Do you know what a fool I feel
waiting on that dock?

Waiting and waiting.

– I know...
– And everyone else is meeting people.

– Or going off in little twos and threes.
– I'm sorry.

And then the taxi driver could not understand
what I am saying when I tell him this address.

– And I begin to wonder if this place even...
– Sorry. I am sorry.

Hortense, I am glad you are here.
Man, I look forward to this day so long.

– Really?
– Yes. Of course. I have my wife with me at last.

Let me sort out the fire now.
Ha-ha! [TAPS COIN]

Let me show you
how to put money in a meter. [CHUCKLES]

You think I don't know
how to put money into a meter?

[COIN RATTLES]

[BANGING]

Ha-ha! Yes.

You want a cup of tea?
I will make you a nice cup of English tea. Yes?

– [GAS ON]
– [HE CHUCKLES]

[STRIKES MATCH]

GILBERT: Woo! [CHUCKLES]

Nice, man. Nice.

Right... Hm.

Look, take off your coat nah.

Oh!

– Only one bed
– Yes. But nights here are very cold, you know.

– And we...
– At least you will have a chair to sleep on.

– Who is the woman downstairs?
– Queenie. She own the house. She is the landlady.

– She married?
– Her husband lost in the war.

– She on her own?
– Yes.

– You friendly with her?
– I knew her during the war. She was kind to me.

Lucky I remember her address.
Lucky she still here.

Places hard to come by,
especially for coloured boys.

– She seem to know all your business.
– What? No. She just friendly.

– Who else live in this house?
– Winston. Him exactly like Kenneth, but honest.

And a white woman called Jean.
You won't see her much. She works nights.

She a nurse?

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

Something like that.

Come. Let me show you
how to use the gas ring.

It only small but it surprising
what you can cook up on it.

– I will cook in the kitchen.
– But this is the kitchen.

– Where?
– This ring. This sink. This is the kitchen.

– Just this? There is no kitchen down the stairs?
– No, not for us to use.

This is the kitchen. That is the dining room.

And what about the lavatory?
Tell me we have our own lavatory.

No. The lavatory is on the ground floor.
It is a shared lavatory.

Do you mean to tell me
that every time I need the lavatory,

I must go all the way down those stairs
and then come all the way back up again?

Well, yes... No, no!

Ha-ha!

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

Sometimes I use this.

[SCREAMS] Disgusting! What are you doing?

Sorry! I forgot it was... Oh, no...

– This place is disgusting! How you bring me here?
– Hush, man.

I caan believe you bring me all this way
for a place like this!.

You tell me you have somewhere nice to live.
You want me to live like this?

– Hush, man.
– Get that away from me!

I caan believe you bring me here.
You live like an animal!

You should see the place I was living
when I first arrived,

crammed into one room with eight other boys
lying in each other's sweat..

I don't want to know!

You should see the number of doors I knock on,
the faces that cloud at the sight of me.

'The room has gone. The room has gone.'
But that if they even deign to speak to me.

'If it was just me I would let you have it,
but it's mi husband, you see.'

'It's mi wife, you see. It's the neighbours you see.
There are children in this house, you see?'

Shit!

What did you just do?

There are cups in that basin.

You tell me... you tell me you wash your cups
in the same place you throw your doings?

No. No, I don't. I take it down to the toilet.
But you are getting me so...

You wash in filth! This place is disgusting!
You make me come here to live like an animal!

Yes! Yes! And you know what else,
Little Miss Stick-up-your-nose-in-the-air?

You will have to wash your plate, your vegetable
and your backside in that basin too.

This room is where you will sleep,
eat, cook, dress.

and write to your mummy
to tell her how the Mother Country is so fine.

And let me tell you this one thing.
You are lucky.

[KETTLE BOILING]

Mrs Bligh?

– Mrs Bligh?
– Oh, no.

Mrs Bligh!

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

Ah. You are here. One of them let me in.

Gilbert. On his way to work at the Post Office.
Works very hard, does Gilbert.

I need to have a word with you, Mrs Bligh.

Actually, Miss Todd,
I was just finishing my breakfast so...

– How has the chimney been since I had it swept?
– Much better, thank you.

– Good. And no more pigeons in the roof?
– No.

That's what neighbours are for. We have to look after
one another, don't we? Think about each other.

So, what can I do for you, Miss Todd?

– It's about your paying guests.
– Oh, really? Again?

We couldn't help but notice that another one
arrived yesterday, a female.

That's Gilbert's wife. Just come over
to join him. Sweet, isn't it?

– Mrs Bligh...
– Queenie.

I'm not sure you quite understand the amount
of unease this is causing amongst your neighbours.

And you're not the only one
taking them in now.

There are two households further along
which have started to follow your example.

They're just lodgers like anyone else.
And I need the money coming in so...

I don't blame you, of course. It's the Government
who are to blame. That new National Health Service.

Giving things away at our expense.

It's the teeth and glasses
that are bringing them here.

And now that they are here we shall have
a struggle to get rid of them. Short sighted.

Are they? I hadn't noticed
any of them being especially...

– The Government policy, I mean.
– Oh.

Do you know that Mr and Mrs Smith at number seven
are being forced out because of this?

I know that they're moving. Bromley, isn't it?

That house has been in her family for generations.
She cried when she told me they have to leave.

But her husband just won't have it.

He's got two young daughters
to think about.

He doesn't want them being eyed up by these coons
every time they step out on the street.

I'm quite sure none of my lodgers would...

He's just back from fighting a war and now
he feels like a stranger in his own country.

'What was it all for?'
That's what he said to me.

Crikey. Anyone would think
I was renting rooms to the Gestapo.

I'm quite sure that Mr Bligh
would not approve of this situation.

Well, he's not here, is he? And if he was,
I wouldn't be so desperate for the money.

I really do want to get on now, Miss Todd.

There was a very unpleasant incident
yesterday morning involving my sister Alice.

She was walking home from the shops
with a heavy bag, when two of them...

Two of those darkie women came walking
towards her, and my sister...

My sister was made to step off the pavement
and walk into the road to get by.

They had no intention whatsoever
of letting her pass undisturbed.

So I would like you to make it very clear to your
lodgers, that as they are guests in this country,

it should be they who step off the pavement
when an English person approaches.

Well, here's one of them now, Hortense.
Why don't you tell her yourself?

Hortense, Miss Todd was just saying that you must
step into the road if you see her sister coming.

– I didn't...
– She needs a lot of room to get past.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

I hope you will consider what I've said.

– Oh, certainly.
– Good day.

Ridiculous woman!
Sorry, Hortense. Please, come in.

– No. It's...
– No, please, please.

Did you sleep well? Quite cosy up there, isn't it?
Heat rises, isn't that what they say?

I wonder if you might have another basin
I can have a use of?

– A what?
– A basin.

– Sorry. A bees what?
– A basin.

A sort of bucket for putting in the sink
for washing and cleaning.

– Oh, a basin!
– Yes.

– But there's one up there, isn't there?
– Yes.

But I will be needing three.
One for the washing, one for the vegetables...

No, you just use the same one.
You don't need three. You just keep it clean.

– Do you want me to show you how to keep it clean?
– I know how to keep things clean.

Yes. I'm sure. I didn't mean...

Yes!

– So, what are you going to do today?
– I will go to the shops.

Good idea. I'll come with you if you like.

– No, thank you.
– I will. It's no bother.

– Do you have shops where you come from?
– Yes.

We have everything here – grocers,
butchers, bakers... they sell bread.

You'll have to use your ration book.
It's not difficult. I'll show you how if you like.

– No thank you.
– I don't mind being seen in the street with you.

– I'm not like some.
– I...

To be honest, I'd be quite glad of the company.

It's ages since I've had a proper
woman to chat with.

– Shall we say half an hour then?
– Very well.

Good. Just knock on the door
when you're ready.

I wonder if you might tell me where I can find
the department in charge of education?

Education, did you say?
Oh, do you want to have English lessons?

I'm not quite sure where it is,
but I'm sure I can find out.

– Thank you.
– Pleasure.

[WHISTLE BLOWS]

[TRAIN WHISTLE]

– Oi, you!
– Yes?

– What you doing?
– I'm on my own today. Bert's sick, so...

Oh, yes? Caught something, has he?
There's a surprise.

I'm not sure which bags I'm supposed to take.
Bert usually finds them.

Over there. Get a move on.

[MAN TUTS]

[MAN COUGHS]

– Which ones are post?
– Did I hear someone speak?

Can you help me, please?

Oi, look! A darkie's stealing from the railways!

[MAN LAUGHS]

Oh, my God, what's the coon doing now?

– You don't want to do that, mate.
– Can you help me, please, then?

– Speak. English.
– It is English I am speaking.

What? Anyone understand
what this coloured gentleman is after?

Can you please tell me
which bags I am to take and I will go?

All right. I'll tell you
if you answer something for me.

What?

– When are you going back to the jungle?
– [LAUGHTER]

[GILBERT LAUGHS]

Oi, darkie. You ain't answered me.
When are you going back where you belong?

But I just get here, man,
and mi no fucked your wife yet.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS, APPLAUDS)

What did you say? What did he say?
Fucking wog! What did you say?

– Me? Nothing.
– Hit him. Go on, fucking hit him!

Oi!

Fucking uppity nigger!
Needs teaching a fucking lesson.

– Are you causing trouble?
– BULLY: Yes.

– Are you? Answer me.
– Sorry, OK. I don't want to cause no trouble.

You better bloody not do,
or I'll see to it you get your cards.

– Sorry, man.
– You're all the fucking same.

– Hey, I work hard. We all work hard.
– Yeah, right.

I'm sorry. OK? No trouble.

There's decent Englishmen
should be doing your job.

That's enough!

– That trolley. That trolley. Got it?
– Yes, sir.

I'll have to wash my fucking hands now
I've touched him.

Hurry up, and fuck off. Tea break's over.

ELWOOD: [LAUGHING] You'll be back, man.

Tail between your legs.

Why you fall for their lies again?

Big talk man?

Get up.

– Get up!
– What's the matter?

– Get up off your knees!
– What are you talking about?

I will not see you on your knees. No wife of mine
will be on her knees in this country.

What are you shouting at me for?
Is this how you come home?

I have been cleaning
this place from top to bottom.

Look! I even buy you a blanket
so you will be warmer on your chair tonight.

Now you think you can shout at me!

– You are a very rude man. A very ignorant man.
– Shut up, woman.

– What is this?
– I have also made your dinner.

– What is this?
– It is egg and chips.

– You tell me you like egg and chips.
– These are not chips. What is this?

The woman down the stairs, she say you peel
a potato and slice it into fingers...

And cook it! You have to cook it!

– A chip is fried!
– Well, she did not tell that to I.

What have you done?

You oaf, you...

– Where are you going?
– Out. I will not stay here.

No! No! No! I am going out.

[CRYING]

Tell me de likkle rhyme you is learnin'
in at de school, me sprigadee.

De Mr William rhyme. Come nah.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills

When all at once I saw a crowd

A host of golden daffodils

[LAUGHS HEARTILY]

– Dem nuh have none ah dat daffodil inna Jamaica.
– No, it is in England where the daffodils are.

Ha! Hengland. Di mudda-land.

You should learn to speak properly, Miss Jewel,
like the King of England does.

Ah walk under de cloud...

And den me float over de 'ill

And me see Miss Hortense
a look pon de daffodil dem.

[SCREECHES WITH LAUGHTER]

Hortense, come and sit with me nah.
I bring you a present.

Come.

These are chips. This is fish and chips.

You want a plate? Or you want to eat it like
the English people do, straight from the paper?

– I will not eat from dirty paper.
– No, no. You are quite right.

So, I see you went to the shops today.
You find everything you need?

– What is a darkie?
– Someone call you that?

Some boys shouted at I in the street.
One of them threw some rubbish.

The woman down the stairs,
she say not to take any notice but...

It is not easy to live in this country, Hortense.
I wish I could protect you from it all.

I do not need protecting. I will not be staying
in this vicinity. It is not a nice vicinity.

As soon as I have a teaching job
I will move to a better place.

– Hortense...
– Did you find out where the department for education is?

– I...
– No. Of course you did not.

Don't get your hopes up nah,
about a teaching job.

I will not be staying in this place for long.
Even if you do.

[CLOCK TICKING]

Queenie, it's me.

Sorry.

Queenie, it's me.

Sorry.

I should have...
I should have thought, written ahead.

– Perhaps you should sit down?
– Oh, my God, oh, my God.

Where's Father?

– Didn't you get my letters?
– Not for a few... For a while.

– He died.
– Oh.

I did write to you, lots of times.

– When did he...?
– 1944.

– Shall I make you a cup of tea?
– Where have you been?

– India. Mostly.
– Mostly?

Arrived back four months ago, but I had to go
to Brighton for a while, check on Maxi's family.

– He has three children...
– Who's Maxi?

Oh. George Maximillian, my friend.
I'm sure I mentioned him in my letters.

Didn't I? I was concerned about his family,
you see? He has three children.

– You've been back in England for four months?
– Yes.

Had to make sure they were coping.
Didn't mean to stay so long.

[SHE LAUGHS]

Queenie?

I thought you were dead. Since the end
of the war I've thought you were dead.

– I...
– Why didn't you write to me?

– I...
– Yes?

– I wasn't very well.
– Not well?

What, did you lose the use of your hand?
You couldn't write?

– No, I....
– Your mind? Well, did you?

– I don't see that there's any cause to shout.
– Don't you? Really, don't you?

– [BANGING]
– GILBERT: Queenie, you all right?

Who on earth is that?

– Who are you? Where's Queenie?
– Who is he?

– It's all right, Gilbert.
– I'm asking if Queenie's all right.

– I beg your pardon?
– It's all right. Gilbert's a lodger.

This is my husband, Gilbert. This is Bernard.

Bernard? Man! You come back, man!

It's a pleasure to meet you... Mr Bligh!

– Don't do that!
– What the devil do you mean, a lodger?

He rents the room at the top.
His wife's just come over to join him.

Have you been sharing this house with...?

There's another one on the middle landing,
Winston. They pay their rent.

And it's a good job they do
cos it's the only way I've managed.

– Tell them to leave.
– No!

Yes! I will not have coolies living in this house.

– You don't walk in here and start telling me what to do.
– This is my house and I will not have them in here.

You have no idea how hard I have worked
to hold on to this place. No idea.

I could have sold it. I almost did.

You could not have sold it.
You would have had no right.

Yes, I would! I could have had you
declared dead, but I didn't.

And then you'd have come back to nothing.
No house, no Arthur, no me.

Would that have been better?
You idiot man!

You could have chosen white lodgers.

Where's Father's chair?

I moved it upstairs.
It made me sad, looking at it empty.

How did he die?

He was shot
by some Yankee policemen.

What do you mean?

It was an accident. Or they said it was.
They covered the whole thing up.

It was in Lincolnshire. He's buried up there.
I managed to get a stone made.

You thought he was alive!

All this time, but you didn't
come back to him when you could.

I suppose you thought it was all right
to let me go on looking after him.

Did you lose your memory?
That's what some people said. I...

– Bernard!
– I don't want to talk about it.

I'm back now, Queenie.

– Where are you going?
– To make a bed up. You can have Arthur's room.

Can't I...? I rather thought
I might sleep in our bed.

All right, then. I'll go in Arthur's room.

[RUMBLE OF TRAFFIC]

[LAID-BACK JAZZ]

Hortense! How you get on?
They say you have a job?

– Why are you here? I told you not to wait for me.
– Wait! What they say?

What business is it of yours?
Leave me alone! I don't want you here.

You don't even know where you are.

– Oh sorry!
– Watch where you're going!

Hortense, no more cuss me, man
Tell me what happen.

– They say I can't teach.
– What they mean?

They say I would have to train all over again.

That none of my qualifications count for anything,
none of my letters of recommendation.

– They speak to I like I am a fool.
– Man, that...

Here.

– I walk into a cupboard.
– Why you do that?

Because I thought
it was the door to leave by.

– Oh.
– But it was a cupboard.

The office women, they all laugh on me.

Right. And tell me,
what was this cupboard like?

– There was a bucket and a mop.
– That is a broom cupboard.

I have walked into
many broom cupboards.

I walk into a broom cupboard,
I walk into a stationery cupboard...

– This one had paper also.
– Oh! Did it? Two functions.

– Now that is an interesting cupboard.
– Are you teasing me, Gilbert Joseph?

And tell me, what you do
when you come from the cupboard?

I left the room.

You no say anything to the women
who was laughing on you?

You should have told them
it was an interesting cupboard.

– It was a dirty cupboard!
– Well then, cha,

you shoulda tell them you are used
to clean cupboards where you come from.

– I am!
– Oh, I don't doubt it , Miss Spitfire.

– I tell you what, you wan' see the king?
– What are you talking about?

– Have you ever been on a London bus?
– No.

We will take a ride on a red London bus.
We will sit on the top deck.

I will show you the Houses of Parliament,
Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Piccadilly Circus.

All the fine sights. You like that?

I dreamed of coming to England.

And you are here.
Not many people have their dreams come true.

Yes, but what am I to do now
if I can't teach?

– Don't worry. Don't worry, Hortense.

– I can look after you.
– I don't need looking after.

[SIGHS] Right.

– Tell me. What else can you do? Can you sew?
– Of course.

Is that 'of course' like you can cook?
Or can you actually sew?

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

– I have been sewing since I was a child.
– Good.

Then I talk to this boy I know.
I might be able to find you some work.

– But I am a teacher.
– Yes. And a teacher you will be

Even when you are sewing.
Look at me. I am a delivery driver.

But one day, I...

What?

One day, I will study the law.

– I can cook, Gilbert Joseph.
– No you can't.

My teacher say my sponge cake
was the best outside a tea shop in England.

She say where this tea shop is?
Because we must be sure not to go there.

Come, madam. Your bus is awaiting.

[♪ GENTLE SWING]

[KEY TURNING IN LOCK]

What are you doing in here?

Looking round.
There seems to be a smell of gas.

Hope you know how to use it correctly.
You'll have the whole house up in smoke.

– This is our room. You shouldn't be in here.
– I beg to differ. My house. My room.

– I pay rent for this room.
– How you get in here?

I have keys to all the rooms,
not that it's any of your concern.

Don't speak to her like that.

– You're going to have to leave.
– What?

Leave. All of you, as soon as possible.
I'm selling the house.

– What are you talking about?
– Do you speak English?

What Queenie say about this?
She the one who rent us this room.

– Do you mean Mrs Bligh?
– She not say anything about selling the house.

This is my house and I wish you to leave.
That's all you need to know.

– I talk to Queenie first.
– I know what's been going on!

I've been talking to the neighbours.
You took advantage of her good nature.

– I did what?
– Met your sort out east.

But now I'm back,
and we intend to live respectably again.

It's what I fought a war for.
I want you out by the end of the week.

I fought in the war too. I fought in the same war
as you. Now I just looking for a decent life.

Decent? Decent? You call this decent?
Look at what you've done to the place!

– It's a disgrace.
– We do our best to make it nice.

This used to be Mother's sewing room!
It used to be spotless.

What can we do
when all the furniture is broken

– and the fire does not work and...
– Well, my dear, you could try harder.

– Get out!
– Gilbert!

– You don't speak to my wife like that.
– I'll call the police.

– What the bloody hell is going on?
– I was just telling these...

..these people that
they're going to have to leave.

He come in here without asking,
talking about you selling the house.

– This true?
– I'll thank you to address your questions to me.

– Shut up, Bernard. Shut up and calm down.
– You gonna listen to your wife nah, man?

You will leave this house tonight.
I will not have wogs living in my house.

– You ras clot!
– Savages! Savages!

[QUEENIE MOANING]

– Queenie? You all right?
– Don't touch her.

– Queenie?
– Leave me alone.

– But what's the matter?
– Don't touch me! Don't touch me!

– Go away.
– But what's the matter?

– Hortense, you stay.
– You want Hortense to stay with you?

– What?
– Please. Please.

– This is ludicrous. I will stay with you, Queenie.
– No. Just Hortense. Just Hortense

I think this a woman thing.
I will be close by, Hortense.

– What? No.
– You should leave, man.

– Don't tell me what to do.
– I'll be just outside.

– Queenie, I am fetching a doctor.
– [MOANING] No.

I don't need one, Bernard, honestly.
I just need to...

– Queenie?
– Just go, Bernard! Just bloody go!

Close the door.

– Put something in front of it.
– But... You want me to shut him out?

– Boil some water.
– You want a cup of tea?

God. Oh, God.

Help me.

Mrs Bligh. Are you with child?

Not for much longer, I'm not.

It's coming, Hortense.

Oh, no. No. You must have a doctor.
You must go to the hospital.

No time. There's no time.
It's been coming since this morning.

– I need you to look.
– What? No, I don't know anything about...

– Yes, you do.
– I don't. I can't.

Oh, please, Hortense.

[QUEENIE MOANING]

Can you open your legs a little wider,
please, Mrs Bligh?

For Christ's sake, call me Queenie!

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

– Oh, my!
– Is it there?

– Yes. Your baby is definitely coming, Mrs Bligh.
– Is it? Did you see the head?

– Yes.
– Oh!

– I think perhaps you need to push, Mrs Bligh.
– Yes. Yes.

– BERNARD: Queenie! What's going on?
– [LIGHTLY] Just a woman's matter! No worry!

– Oh! The head is out!
– Is it? Is it?

Yes. You must push again. Push again now!

– You'll have to catch it.
– Don't worry. Push again now.

BERNARD: Queenie!

[MOANING]

Oh my, oh my. Your baby is here.
It's here. I have it.

– Let me see.
– It's still attached.

– [BABY CRYING]
– Oh, it's all right.

It's all right, little one.

It's a boy, isn't it?
A lovely perfect boy. It's all right.

Oh, look at him. Look, Hortense.

Mrs Bligh.

Your baby is...

I think your baby is black.

Oh, you're beautiful! My beautiful boy.

Can you hear me, Mrs Bligh?
Your baby is black. How come your baby is...?

[BANGING]
GILBERT: Queenie! What happening in there?

– Let me in!
– BERNARD: Get away from that door!

Stand away from me!

– But...
– You!

– No.
– It's not his!

Gilbert has nothing to do with him.
I swear it, I swear it on his life. He's not his.

We have a bird in Jamaica, a humming bird.

– [WAVES ROLLING]
– It is very small but beautiful.

Blue, green, purple,
red in its tiny feathered body.

And when it flies, its wings flicker so fast
your eye cannot see them.

One time in this city
when the bombs had fallen,

everywhere I look is devastation.

But then you know what I see?

A humming bird.

In the middle of the rubble
and the bricks, a humming bird.

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me,
a madness from the flying and the fight,

but not only I saw it.

A humming bird on a London street.

I watched that bird like I see an old friend.

It looked dowdier in the grey British light,
no sun to sparkle it up.

But there it was, so far from home.

And happy to sample
the nectar of the English flowers.

[WAVES CONTINUE TO LAP]

This is our son, Michael.

We made him.

This is our beautiful boy.

[BABY CRIES]

[CRYING CONTINUING]

Hush now.

[CRYING SUBSIDES]

There, there.

♪ Hush, here comes the Dream Man

♪ Hush, here comes the Dream Man

♪ Now you children run up the stairs ♪

He was crying.

Sweet little fellow.

I'm sorry.

His father was an RAF man, a brave man.

I was so lonely, especially after Arthur went.

I thought you were gone. I was so lonely.

I should have been
a better husband to you, Queenie.

I meant to be.
I did want to come home. I missed you.

What happened out there?
I know you went to prison.

– Who told you that?
– The RAF, when I tried to find you.

– No business telling you that.
– I wanted to know.

I want to understand what happened.
Bernard, please!

They sent us in
to break up the riots in Calcutta.

Only they weren't riots.
It was a bloodbath, slaughter.

Hindu against Muslim against Sikh.
Slaughtering each other.

Brown bodies everywhere,
guts pulled forth, vultures feeding off the dead.

Ordered to break up a fight. Maxi went in first.
He was like that, always the first.

– They set fire to him.
– No.

I tried to help him, dropped my weapon.
One of the bastards stole it.

And you were put in prison for that?

They put me in with the natives, Queenie,
with the thieves, with the murderers.

– Like I was no better.
– Bernard.

He was my only friend out there.

The only one who didn't think I was... a joke.

He called me 'Pop'. That bit older, you see?

Never had a nickname before.
He saw me through.

– I'm so sorry, I...
– I think I lost my mind.

Did some things that I'm ashamed of.

Dreadful things. Repulsive things.

Thought I had VD for a while. Turned out to be malaria.

Don't remember much about that.

Why didn't you write to me?
I would have done anything I could to help you.

Felt I didn't deserve you.
Didn't want to come home like Father did.

Home from the war,
lifted out of the back of a truck.

Dumped on the doorstep, gibbering,
neighbours watching.

Didn't want that.

Bernard.

– Don't know what's happening, Queenie.
– [BABY STARTS CRYING]

I'm afraid my finger won't do any more.

I'm sorry.

[BIRDSONG]

– [BABY GURGLING]
– Hey.

That's it. Make you smart.

Gilbert, Hortense.
Will you come in for a moment?

– Sorry, Queenie. We only come back to change.
– Just for a moment.

It's good to see you up and about.

I wanted to give you this for the cleaning.
For your dress, Hortense.

– Oh no, there's really no need, Mrs Bligh.
– There is. And it's Queenie.

Thank you.

– Bernard tells me you're moving out.
– Yes. End of the week.

– Where will you go?
– Finsbury Park.

Winston have a bit of luck.
He inherit some money from an uncle back home.

He bought a place in Finsbury Park,
a bombed out house. It need a lot of work but...

It is going to be a fine house.
We will make it very fine.

Good. That's good. I'm sure it will be.

– Sit down.
– No, sorry, we...

I made tea and I've got biscuits.

– Where's your husband?
– Oh, don't worry about him.

He's just in the garden, Arthur's veg patch.

Sit down. You'll want to see the baby.

Here he is. He's a bit less of a fright now.

– Do you want me help you?
– Oh!

Just bend your arm a bit.

– No... Have you never held a baby before?
– Of course.

That's it.

He's a lovely boy – good as gold, no bother.

[HORTENSE, LOUDLY] Hello!

He's very sweet.

– [BABY GURGLES]
– Oh, no, you keep hold of him.

He likes you. That's his happy noise.

– You have a name for him?
– Michael.

– Michael?
– Do you like it?

Michael was the name
of someone very dear to me.

My cousin. It is a favourite name of mine.

– Good. I'm glad.
– [DOOR SLAMS]

– That your husband?
– Don't worry about him.

Hortense, we should go.
I don't want him to find us here.

– Sorry about the tea.
– Will you take him?

But I already have him.

No. I mean...

I mean will you take him with you
when you leave? When you move?

– Take him and look after him.
– What are you saying?

Please. I know you.

– I trust you. You're good people.
– HORTENSE: No, Mrs Bligh.

Oh please. I'm begging you.

Please. For his sake. Take him
and look after him. Please. Please.

Queenie.
What in God's name are you doing?

That's your child. What are you thinking?
You're his mother.

– But I can't look after him.
– Why? Why ever not?

How can I?
I don't even know how to comb his hair.

But that's ridiculous.
We would work something out.

You're not giving your child away
to these people.

– We'll bring him up. Together.
– What?

We'll say he's adopted. It's quite simple.
An orphan. There's been a war.

– All sorts of things have happened.
– No, no!

No, it wouldn't work. I know it wouldn't.

– You wouldn't be able to bear it.
– Yes, I would. If I had to.

No. You might think you can do it now.
It's easy now. He's little. He's sweet.

But he's going to grow up into a...
a big, strapping coloured lad.

And people will snigger at you in the street
and ask you awkward questions.

– We'll tell them he's adopted.
– Those proper, decent neighbours in the suburbs

who'll turn their backs on us.

Are you going to punch the other dads
cos the kids call him names?

Are you going to be proud of him?

Glad that he's your son?

I've thought about nothing else, and...

And you know what?
I don't think I've got the guts for it.

I thought I would have. I should have,
but I haven't. And I'm his...

I'm his mother.

– I'd have to give him to an orphanage.
– Queenie.

– And they don't want the coloured ones.
– We should talk about this in private.

They're sending all the half-caste babies to America.
America, Gilbert. Can you imagine?

They'd treat him like dirt. They'd send him
up the back in the picture hall.

– You would love him. I know you would.
– Queenie, this is not the solution.

You could write to me
and you could tell him that I loved him.

So much. So much.

[YELLS] Get your filthy black hands off my wife!

– You know what your trouble is, man?
– I'm not interested in your opinion.

Your white skin. You think it give you the right
to lord it over a black man.

But you know what it make you?
White. That is all, man. White.

No better, no worse than me.

We both just finish fighting a war
for a better world we want to see.

But still, after all we suffer together,

you still wan' tell me that I am worthless
and you are not?

Am I to be the servant and you the master
fi all time? Because you white?

No. Stop this, man.
We want the same thing, Mr Bligh.

A decent home, some work,
some self-respect, some love.

We can work together.
You no see? Man, we must.

Otherwise we just go on fighting
each other to the end.

Fighting and fighting.
And what then? What then?

I'm sorry, but I simply cannot understand
a single word you're saying.

[BABY GRIZZLES]

GILBERT: [GENTLY] All right, come on. Ssh, ssh.

– Come, Hortense, let's go.
– No, Gilbert.

That just happen?

This is not what I was expecting
in England.

That poor little child!

A child belong with its mother,
doesn't it?

I was given away... by my mother.

Because of my skin.

She thought there was the chance
of a golden life for I.

I barely remember her. A flapping black skirt,
bare black feet skipping over stones.

But I remember the people who love me.

Miss Jewel.

Michael.

So, this Michael, he really was your cousin?

Yes. Michael Roberts was my cousin.

That little baby can't be left alone
in this country.

– This country full of people like Mr Bligh.
– I know.

What sort of chance will he have?
What sort of life?

Always different. Always despised.

He will grow up feeling he is inferior.
I can't have that.

I can't allow that.

I was proud of you...

..Gilbert Joseph.

The way you spoke to Mr Bligh,
the words you said, your dignity.

You will make an excellent lawyer.

Hortense, we...

It is very cold this evening.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS, APPLAUDS)

Er... It is always cold.

You want us to take the child, Gilbert?

[WAVES CRASHING]

There are some words that once spoken
split the world in two.

Will you take my son?

We cannot know for certain
what his future will be.

But we do know
that we will be proud of him.

And he will be loved.

[BABY GURGLING, WAVES CRASHING]

(APPLAUSE, CHEERS)

(HUGE CHEER)