All language subtitles for The.Trial.Of.Christine.Keeler.S01E03.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV

If I hadn't ducked,

the bullet would have hit me.

Johnny wanted to kill me.

This ain't right!
It's a stitch up!

Christine, I'd never hurt you.

So you do know this girl, Jack?
Christine Keeler?

Will you get me
a direct line for Hollis?

Yes, MI5!
What other Hollis is there?

Once the trial is over,
the circus will have moved on.

Now is the time
to cash in, Christine.

I've got this.

You won't be the first girl
who's lost her head

over an offer to sell her story.

Tell them you exaggerated
about Jack.

What about his note, though?

He calls me "darling" in it.

Stephen introduced me
to John Profumo, the politician.

And a spy, a Russian.

- Crikey.
- Yeah.

It's gonna be a really big story
in the Sunday Mirror.

Like any girl,
I had my dreams growing up.

The usual things.

The house, a family, a husband.

Wake up, darling.

You've got to wake up.
The phone.

Then I dreamt
of running away...

escaping to London
to find my fortune.

I suppose I'm proof
dreams really do come true.

But so do nightmares.

My worst nightmare
is always the same.

I'm trapped.

Trapped in a terrible place
with no escape.

I scream and scream,
but I have no voice.

Thank goodness
you can always wake up.

Even from the worst nightmare
you ever had.

Can't you?

Right, head down,
look up and through your lashes.

Lovely. Beautiful. Look up.

Gorgeous. Extend that arm.

Lovely, gorgeous. Hold that.

Relax your mouth,
so you have two fingers between your teeth.

Lovely. Just like that.

Perfect.

Three photographs.

I want it on record they've
been stolen from my flat.

Look, if these photographs
are leaked to the press,

it could bring down
the government.

Eh... One of them is of the War Minister,
Mr. Profumo, with a girl.

Christine Keeler.

One moment.

Sorry to hear
about your burglary, Dr. Ward.

You don't seem to have much luck
at the moment, do you?

The shooting and all.

As I've tried explaining
to your man,

national security
may very well be at stake.

Yes, we've been hearing something
about that from Christine.

Chin down.

Look up and through your lashes.
Gorgeous.

Hello.

Yes, gorgeous, hold that.

It's Stephen,
he wants to talk to you.

- Tell him he can do one.
- Tell him yourself.

He said it's urgent.

Oh, sorry to interrupt!

This is Mandy.

Kim's doing me
for the Mirror, at home.

It's going to be out
just after the trial.

- Well, aren't you clever?
- Gorgeous.

I've never met
a lady photographer before.

Thank you, Mand.

This way.

Profumo!

Wigg. Mrs. Castle...

- Oleaginous charlatan.
- Hmm.

- We've got him, Barbara. Got him on toast.
- Tell me more.

There's plenty more to tell,
believe you me.

My Fleet Street mole
has come good.

His days are numbered!

- Minister.
- Hollis.

It's this business
with Miss Keeler.

We need to issue a D-notice.

To the Sunday Mirror
in the first instance,

then to any other
newspaper editors

who's considering publishing
this preposterous rubbish.

Just a moment, Minister.

Halting publication,
on what grounds?

What can a teenage girl,
relaying her life story to the newspapers,

have possibly said
to jeopardise national security?

You tell me! I haven't
been near her for months.

God knows what bilge the wretched rag
has persuaded her to put her name to.

A D-notice is an extremely
serious measure.

It isn't meant
as a sort of nappy

to preserve members of the government
from embarrassment by the press.

No, of course not.
What about Captain Ivanov?

Ivanov?

Come off it. I know it's neither
confirm nor deny with you chaps,

but I was led to believe MI5 consider
him to be a threat to security.

- That is correct.
- Yeah.

You wanted Miss Keeler to, err,

parade her wares
in front of the Russian.

Presumably to open him up
to the possibility of blackmail,

which is fair enough, it's only what
Moscow's been doing to our chaps for years.

That may be
your interpretation, Minister,

but I can assure you we only wanted
to warn you away from Doctor Ward.

It had nothing to do
with the young woman,

since we had no idea
you were foolish enough

to become intimately
involved with her.

For Christ's sake, Hollis!

What did your chaps think
I was there for? Backache?

No wonder the Prime Minister thinks
MI5 to be a band of incompetents!

If you have managed
to turn Ivanov,

then Christine Keeler blurting a double
agent's name all over the newspapers

is bound to blow the whole
operation out of the water.

A D-notice is the only way
to prevent that from happening.

Thank you
for your consideration.

But with Ivanov back in Moscow,
he's out of the picture.

So, there's no need to stop
publication of any story

Miss Keeler is prepared to tell.

Publish and be damned.

Hollis.

I trust this all remains
in the strictest confidence.

This business
between Christine-

Between Miss Keeler and myself.

That is rather the point of us.

Don't you think
it needs taking in a bit?

That's the style, Chrissie.

That's how they're wearing it.

Oh!

Been shopping?

Little something from us,
for Johnny Edgecombe's trial.

Lovely.

We have got to improve
Christine's image,

now we've signed her up.

Very nice.

Want you girls looking
your best in court!

Don't remind me.

Makes me feel sick
every time I think of it.

You'll be fine!

We can have a little rehearsal
if you like.

You in the witness stand,
me being the barrister.

Oh, bags, I be the judge.

It'll be just the same
as the magistrates, won't it?

Just them asking
about Johnny shooting me.

'Course, yeah.

You're a bright girl,
Just answer the questions,

but think about everything
else we've talked about.

No harm slipping in
a bit of Profumo, bit of Ivanov.

Get everyone dying
to read the full story.

They are going to love you.

Darling, I love it.
Wait here for a second.

Someone would like to show you
the picture he's drawn.

For god's sake, is it possible
to have a moment of privacy?

Sorry.

Sorry to be a bear.

Little baby.

Just you and the drug squad,
is it?

You've got a cheek, Stephen,

telling tales
about me to police.

I could say
much the same thing.

Thanks to you and Mandy,
poor Sergeant Burrows seems to think

Wimpole Mews is a cross between the
Kremlin and a Soho knocking shop.

I never said anything
that wasn't true.

Life's too short
to bear grudges, little baby.

Shall we call it quits?

I thought since you wouldn't
listen to me about
the amount
of hemp you've been smoking,

a word from the law
might set you right.

But I accept
it's none of my business.

A coffee, please, doll.

- Coming right up.
- Unless you're cutting down.

The photos I have of Cliveden,
the ones of Eugene,

of him with you, with Jack...

Did you take them
from Wimpole Mews?

I've been nowhere
near Wimpole Mews.

Maybe Eugene took 'em.
Try asking him.

He's gone.

You haven't heard?

Recalled to Moscow!

He didn't even telephone
to say goodbye.

Are you joking?

Poor you, Steve,
everyone's doing a bunk.

You'll have no friends left
if you're not careful.

Here you are, love.

Maybe Eugene wanted
the photos to remember you by.

Jack.

Is he angry with me?

No one is angry
with you, darling,

but before Johnny's trial,
Jack would very much like

to discuss an alternative to
your story in the Sunday Mirror.

What? Shut me up you mean?

Why are you on his side?

It's not a question of sides.

Why cause unnecessary trouble
for Jack or for yourself?

Why can't everyone
have what they want?

I don't know! You say one
thing, Paul says another.

It's all getting a bit...

To be honest, I feel like I'm
having words put in my mouth.

By the papers, I mean.

Well, there you are.
Trust me, little baby.

The last thing Jack wants
is to see you out of pocket.

You may be
in the best position of all.

Missionary?

Having your cake and eating it.

I'm free Friday.

Got the night off.

Friday might be tricky.

I'll have to keep you
posted on that.

Aren't you going
to open your present?

You distracted me!

Oh.

Lovely.

Really nice.

- Thanks.
- Well, I hope you like it.

It's hard to know
what to give you, darling.

I told you, you don't have
to give me anything.

You're a sweet girl.

My mum...

Well, she hasn't got much.

I like to help her out,
you know.

Send her a bob or two,
when I can.

It's like trying to conduct an affair
in the middle of St. Pancras station.

Have you ever thought
of taking a place of your own?

You offering?

Perhaps I am.

I'll drop you a line
about Friday.

If there was no affair,

why are you seeking a financial
settlement with this young woman?

She has me cornered, Derek.

The story
could scupper me entirely.

My career, my family.
Quite apart from anything else,

I can't put my poor wife
through it.

Quite. But, erm, the firm's
not inconsiderable reputation

is based on our success
in prosecuting libel cases.

If the story's untrue,

as your solicitors,
we could warn the newspapers.

Yes. But it's not just
the story,

it's this wretched trial!

If the poor girl is primed

to parrot Fleet Street's lies
up there on the witness stand,

then every newspaper in the country's
free to report on what she said

without any fear of libel
whatsoever.

And mud, as they say, sticks.

She may as well book
a night at the Palladium.

Very well.

Mr. Profumo is mindful of the
fee your client will forgo

if she withdraws her article
from the Sunday Mirror.

Yeah, it's not just the article.

If Christine agrees to keep quiet
about everything that happened,

she's going to be giving up a lot of
other opportunities coming her way.

We're looking at a sum
that takes account of that.

My client appreciates the toll this
matter has taken on Miss Keeler,

it would be reasonable for her
to take a holiday
directly
after John Edgecombe's trial.

We intend to provide funds for
this and her other expenses,

as long as Miss Keeler agrees
to remain incommunicado.

Incommunicado?

There will be no further
press interviews

or other contact with the press

after John Edgecombe's trial.

A long holiday the minute it's over,
out of the country.

And no further association
with Marilyn Rice-Davies.

You've got to be joking!

That's a lot to ask, Derek.

Christine will be walking away from a
hell of a lot if she agrees to all this.

They're considering a sum.

Excellent!

It's not fair, though. I mean,
it happened to me, I was there!

Am I supposed to keep
my mouth shut forever?

No one's saying that.
A year or two.

- God!
- Maybe a few months.

What's a few months?

But me and Mand
not seeing each other,

why do they want to split us up?

You're a dangerous combination,
you two.

I need to give them
an answer, Chris.

Do you want the money or not?

You should see where Jack lives.
It's like Buckingham Palace!

If I could buy my mum a house as
nice as even one room of that place,

it might be worth it.

Three thousand.

Half of that, you could easily
buy your mum a place.

You really think
they'll pay that?

You said it, Profumo's loaded.

It's not just giving up the eight
hundred from the article, Chrissie.

They want you out of the country
right after Johnny's trial,

plus future income.

He probably spends
that on cufflinks.

Five thousand.

Atta girl.

Miss Keeler's representative
says that she's asking for five.

Yes. I think
that should be fine.

It might be cleaner
for Doctor Ward's people

to handle the payment,
don't you think?

Mum? Mum, I've got
some good news,

thought I'd tell you in person.

No, I'm not telling you,
I'll tell you when I see you!

Good news.

Yeah, yeah,
it's a surprise. A present.

Right, see you soon.

Five grand!

Not too shabby, is it?

We've got to get the money off
Stephen's solicitor.

Your boyfriend doesn't want
to get his hands dirty.

Oh, well, as long as
we get it, who cares?

I'll drink to that.

Hmm, wait.

Will I still have to go
to Johnny's trial?

Yeah, of course.

It's just you've been talking
to lawyers all day, that's all.

It's not the same as you
being a witness, Chrissie.

Well, they all bloody
know each other!

You've got that one right.

The wages of sin...

Thanks, Bill.

My representative
will handle it from here.

I'm sure Jack will repay me at some
point when the smoke has cleared.

Look, I presume Mandy will be
following Christine's lead?

Keeping quiet about
our, er, friendship.

I have no doubt she will.

Mandy's greatest talent is recognising
which side her bread is buttered.

Listen, I am sorry to have
brought this trouble to you.

Oh, my dear chap, not a word.

After all the hours
of treatment you've given me,

not to mention friendship.

Hmm.

Although for absolute
peace of mind,

the letter that Jack sent to Christine,
the one that the Mirror have hold of,

he'd like it returned
for safekeeping.

Of course.

Er, I'll-I'll see
what I can do.

- Oh, please.
- Oh, thank you.

Teeth and tits.

Christine and Mr. Profumo...

Stephen was always
a good talker.

He could talk the birds
out the trees.

Trouble is, once he started,
there was no stopping him.

Stephen normally
cashes cheques for me.

No worries, I'll handle it.

That's why I'm your manager.

When will we get the rest?

The agreement was
the full five thousand, today.

Five thousand?

Well, there's-there's been
a misunderstanding.

You said five hundred, surely.

You can't honestly have expected
five thousand pounds.

Jack's got a bloody nerve.

Offers me less than what
the Mirror wants to pay.

What a lousy trick!

And he won't even talk to me face to face,
like I'm shit on his shoe.

Yeah, well, fuck him, Paul!
Fuck him!

Five thousand pounds,
in return for her silence.

That's blackmail!

I suppose. It's an attempt.

I can only be frank
with you, Martin.

The thing is, no one
is going to believe for a moment

that you didn't go to bed
with the girl.

I know!
But it happens to be true!

Surely no one should be able
to hold a minister of state

to ransom
over a concocted story,

purely because a newspaper wants
to force him out of office!

I know you'll have
to speak to the PM

if it's a resigning issue.

Steady on.

We need you in government, Jack.

Never more so
than at the moment.

Perhaps we should consult the
Director of Public Prosecutions.

Hmm.

Hopefully the threat
of a blackmail charge

might be enough to keep
the little tart quiet.

I don't want to hear
his fucking excuses...

I've got to go.

Christine.

I can't wait for this to be in the paper.
I can't bloody wait!

Do you want me to go over anything?
Add a few extra juicy details?

Didn't, er, Alan tell you?

Sorry, haven't had
a chance, guv.

We're, erm...

We're pulling the story.

What?

It's just not worth the risk.

Why?

You've got yourself in a bit of trouble,
haven't you, Chrissie?

What right do you have to go marching into
those offices telling him I'm a liar?

Better that, than to see you pay
thousands of pounds you don't have

to defend a libel case!

- Or blackmail.
- Oh, yeah.

'Cos you're only thinking of me,
aren't you, Stephen?

Yes! You seem unable
to believe it, but yes, I am!

Jack Profumo is a millionaire
many times over,

he has got the best lawyers
in the country!

You are out of your depth,
Christine!

Who chucked me in the deep end
in the first place? You!

- Little baby, it's only money.
- No! No more of that.

I've had it with you.

All of you.
You're all the fucking same.

Good man, Ward.

Bloody-nora!

Ten guineas these cost
and I've still got blisters.

Thought you were off
to see your mum.

Change of plan.

Thank God nobody looks
at your feet.

Except Stephen, maybe I'll pop
them through his letter box.

Don't talk to me about Stephen!

I've told you,
you can't trust him.

Stephen only thinks about
what's good for Stephen.

Anyway, sod the Sunday Mirror.

Once Johnny's trial's over,
you'll have papers fighting over you.

You'll be able
to name your price.

I wish it was over.

God, if Johnny looks at me the way
he did at the magistrate's court...

I've told you. Never look!

Bloody hell, Mand.

Girl, you could have been
a hairdresser.

Gives you varicose veins,
all that standing.

Anyway, you'll look smart
for tomorrow.

Teeth and tits.

Christine. Phone!

It's a bloke. Not Lucky.

Hello?

Hello, this is Christine.

You need
to watch out, bitch.

You've betrayed your country.

Be careful what you say
in court tomorrow.

Where are you going? Chris!

At least let me put
a bit of spray on it.

I need something
for my nerves.

Is Darrell about?

Hey, Darrell!
What you got for me?

No, nothing for you, girl.

No? Got cash, for a change.

Think I owe you
from last time, actually.

Go on back
to the West End, Chrissie.

What's going on?

Is it Lucky?

Has he been putting
the pressure on?

Brother's a friend. Johnny too.

Tell me something.

You been to see him all the time
he's banged up in Brixton nick?

He tried to shoot me!

You crazy.

Why d'you think he's in court?
He could have killed me!

Lucky says you put a spell on the man,
like you tried to put one on him.

Him love you, girl.

He's got a funny way of showing it,
hasn't he? Knocking me about.

No other way to keep you,

you soon fly out
of Notting Hill.

Yet you always come back.

Why is that, Christine?

Why you never stay?

Everyone looks at a white girl
with a black fella, everyone.

You think that feels good?
The names you get called?

Anybody here
not know about names?

Why was Edgecombe different?

If that's why
we cannot be together.

"White girl
with a black fella."

You don't think things through.

You change your story.

How's a man meant to know
where he stands with you?

I haven't changed my story.

I've tried telling you-

asking you nicely to leave me alone,
but it never bloody works.

If you didn't care about
the names with him,

why did it matter
going with me, Chris?

Why you with Edgecombe?

- I don't know!
- She don't know.

Don't know her own mind,
you know.

Stop twisting what I'm saying!
That's what you do.

I wanted to be with Johnny,
alright?

I don't want to be with you.

Why you do it to me,
Christine? Hey?

Why you do it to me?

Why are you in my head?

Better go now,
Chrissie darling.

There was nowhere
left for me to run to.

Not Notting Hill,
not Stephen's.

How much, darling?

Piss off, you disgusting old git!
Or I'll call the police!

- Go on! Piss off!
- Alright.

No safe place in the world.

You sure about this,
Chrissie love?

You could get in trouble.

Definitely.

Mr. John Edgecombe is being
tried for an attempted murder

at the Old Bailey today.

In an unexpected turn of events,
the key prosecution witness,

twenty-year-old model,
Christine Keeler,

has failed to attend the trial.

The authorities have been unable
to contact Miss Keeler

and her whereabouts
is currently unknown.

Mr. Edgecombe is charged...

Yeah.

When am I gonna be taken up?

Hello.

Can I get some information here?

Where's Christine, Mandy?

Oh, I haven't got a clue!
Sorry, boys.

Will you be giving evidence
against Mr. Edgecombe today?

Well, that's what
I'm here to do!

And I always do
as I'm told, you know me!

You think justice
will be done today, Lucky?

I don't think there'll be no justice,
not without Christine.

She's the reason for all this,
not Edgecombe.

Have you seen Johnny,
Mr. Gordon?

He cut me,
you can see what he did.

But I feel sorry
for the man, I really do.

He only done it for Christine.
And I know how that feels.

Strong feelings.
Strong feelings!

The judge has decided
to proceed.

What? Without Christine?

Is that allowed?

It's an unusual decision,

given Miss Keeler's the
principal prosecution witness.

But it means the case against you
becomes very flimsy, Mr. Edgecombe.

Your barrister is confident.

It's good news!

Being a long time since
I had any of that.

Shall we?

Shit.

You know, maybe Christine
was thinking about me all along.

Uh-hum.

You know, can't stand
to see me put away.

It never made sense to me.

How-how she turned.
She knew how I felt about her.

I tell you, man,
the bitch be crazy!

You can never guess
what she's gonna do.

What on earth's this?

Did you really offer
the PM your resignation?

No, of course not.

That's the usual codswallop.

Vee, as though I wouldn't tell you.
You know how much Beaverbrook hates the PM.

It's a pathetic attempt
to stir things up.

Sexy girl, don't you think?

Hmm?

Well, if you like
that sort of thing.

For God's sake!

Why are you being so prudish?

I mean, she's a sexy girl.
Admit it.

Haven't we-?

Is that one of the girls
that we met at Cliveden?

Oh, I really couldn't say.

I'll sue the lot of them,
Martin.

My pockets may not be as deep as
Beaverbrook's, but they're deep enough.

They will rue the day.
I would rather spend my last farthing

than have rags like
the Express or the Mirror

dictate how we govern
this country!

I wouldn't put it past them to have cooked
up the girl's disappearance themselves,

it would shift a few copies.

- Ah, golly.
- Don't you think the timing is rather odd?

Oh, most odd.

I have to tell you, Jack,

there's a school of thought,

that you've got the little
baggage out of the way yourself.

Don't be so ridiculous!

Quite.

- Mr. Ward!
- Morning!

Have you any details of the
disappearance of Miss Keeler?

I can't comment on Miss Keeler.

As far as I know,
she's extremely well

and blissfully unaware of all
the fuss over her disappearance.

Why was she not in court?

Beautiful day, gentlemen.

Anything to add,
anything at all?

Foreman of the jury,

how do you find the defendant
on the first count,

wounding with intent
to do grievous bodily harm?

We find
the defendant not guilty.

On the second count, shooting
with intent to murder?

Not guilty.

How do you find
the defendant on count three,

shooting with intent
to cause grievous bodily harm?

Not guilty.

Count four, being
in possession of a firearm

with intent to endanger life?

We find
the defendant guilty.

Seven years...

Seven years
for having a gun on me!

I was fitted up!

Tell my brief to get down here.

I want to appeal.
I'm gonna appeal!

Did Johnny get off?

See for yourself.

Seven years!

How'd he get seven years without me
even being there to say what happened!

He did have the gun.

He won't get out till 1970!

I thought they'd give him
a couple of years tops.

Oh, my god.

God, Paul, I'm in all of 'em!

What did you think would happen?
You're the story, Chrissie.

The only story.

- Stephen! Speaking to the Mirror.
- I know.

I thought he only talked to them
to get my story pulled.

Ah! It's all about him!

Cheeky bastard.

"In a world becoming more
complex and ever more cruel,

friendship appears
to be a dirty word

and simple human kindness,
a crime."

Well, I think Stephen makes
a very compelling case.

It's the gutter press,
after all.

You know how I've always
felt about him.

He's a kind man, Bronwen,
and an honourable one.

He's disgusting.

He disgusts me.
Makes my flesh crawl.

Your bachelor loyalty...

He's always put it about that
he introduced us, you realise.

As though I'm one of his girls.

I don't think Stephen
would have said-

To those who don't know the difference
between walking the runway in Paris

and opening your legs
in a Soho bedsit,

I'm just another
of his "models".

Well, that's what
your mother's always thought.

You bought me.

This'll just confirm it.

No. Darling!

"I feel sorry for Christine.

Her life was so full of promise,

but she was utterly deaf
to my advice

that it would be madness
to play fast and loose

with the affections of her attractive,
but primitive admirers."

Jesus!

Jack doesn't even get a mention!

Oh, Mand as well.

"It was about this time that Christine
began to spend secret afternoons

with a well-known man
in the public eye."

Profumo's got his lawyers
on to them.

They're all shitting
themselves he'll sue.

So Jack's in the clear, but they can
make up anything they like about me?

You're not getting it,
are you, Chrissie?

I told you,
you're the only story.

You're what the papers
really want. All this is filler.

The longer you stay away,
the more they'll want it.

The more they want it,
the more they'll pay.

If you don't think-

I know it's not your style,
love, playing hard to get.

It's cool, though.
It's all cool, trust me.

What on earth are you doing?

Nametapes for school.
I thought I'd rather be busy.

Surely Nanny can do those.

Of course,
she'd bloody do them, Jack.

They've named no names.

A prominent minister
with a well-known actress wife?

They may as well
have published our address.

None of it happens
to be true, you know.

The business about the Russian and a
security risk is absolute nonsense,

you've met those girls,
they can barely hold a conversation.

Well, they're not wanted for their
conversational abilities, are they?

Or you tell me.

I swear to you, Val.

I know, in the past...

That's what makes it
so bloody unfair.

I'm being tarred
with Ward's brush.

You know what he's like,
everyone does.

He can't stop talking,
the man's got bloody verbal diarrhoea.

Anyway, there it is.
You either believe me or you don't.

The car's waiting
to take me to the House.

And please, Vee,
don't talk to any journalists.

Believe it or not,
I'm not a complete idiot.

George, you know I'm with you
all the way on this business,

but we need to give it
proper thought.

I've thought about nothing else,
I assure you.

Obviously, Profumo's been putting it
away like a sailor on shore leave,

but let's face it,
so have half of our lot,

probably including you.

Spare me the details.

I'm just saying, George,
if we try to bring the Tories down with sex,

it might go off in our face.

We need to get them
on a different angle.

I've waited long enough.

George!

See you in the chamber.

- Do you like dancing?
- Yeah, I do.

Is there anywhere nearby,
where we could go and dance?

I know a place
close to here.

You need to pack, Chris.
We've got a flight to catch.

I thought we were here
for a few days.

Change of plan. We need to go.

Where?

Madrid.

Hang on, what's in Madrid?

A flight to Paris,
then to London.

Then more cash than you've ever
dreamed of, love.

Screw a house for your mum,
Chrissie.

Money the papers
are talking about,

you buy one for her, one for you
and a couple spare.

You'll never have
to worry again.

How long have we got?

Let's go.

There is not an honourable
Member in the House,

nor a journalist
in the press gallery,

who in the last few days
has not heard rumour upon rumour

involving a member
of the government front bench!

Who didn't even have
the decency to turn up.

I am rightly using the privilege
of the House of Commons,

that is what
it was given to me for,

to ask the Home Secretary
to go to the dispatch box,

he knows the rumours to which I refer
relate to a Miss Christine Keeler

and a Member
of the House of Commons,

and categorically deny, on behalf of the
Government, the truth of these rumours.

Christine!

My Honourable Friend,
the member for Dudley,

is determined to enlarge
these rumours.

- Yeah!
- And what do they amount to?

A minister is said to be acquainted
with an extremely pretty girl.

Well, I would have thought that
was a matter for congratulation!

Christine!

My Honourable and Learned Friend
says that if it is simply a case

of a minister having been found
with a pretty girl,

good luck to him!

Quite right.

But what if there is something
else of much greater importance?

Yeah!

What if a perversion
of justice is at stake?

The press is at this moment
pursuing the question

of where Miss Christine Keeler
has gone,

the missing "call girl",
the vanished witness.

Surely the honourable lady should tell
us where this rumour is coming from,

other than from herself.

I have seen it stated
in no newspaper.

I have seen it suggested
nowhere until this evening.

Bugger off!
She's with The Express!

All I can say is that my
honourable and learned friend

must be the only person
in the House,

perhaps in the country,

who has not heard it mentioned!

A conspiracy of silence may be
convenient for people in high places,

but is not
in the public interest.

The press has its faults.
So have we.

The press has a role.
And so have we.

The press commits scandals.
Well, so do the government!

Jack, Jack, wake up.

You've got to wake up.

- Why? What?
- The phone.

- Hello. Hello.
- Jack, Martin here.

We need to speak to you.

- Martin, what on earth? What?
- We're sending a car.

When?

- Do you know where she is, Jock?
- I have absolutely no idea.

We need to lance this boil.

We'll draft a statement,

you'll make it
in tomorrow's session.

Today's.

- Indeed. - That bastard Wigg's
been gunning for me for months!

And Castle.

It's absolute concoction!

There's been some sort of conspiracy,
or security breach,

It's nothing short
of ridiculous!

Maybe, but we need
to end it here,

before Labour
tears us limb from limb.

Does the Prime Minister know about all this?
Have you spoken to him?

He wants to sign off on the
statement when we're finished.

This letter
the papers mention...

You call the girl
"darling" in it-

They don't actually have
the letter.

My wife's an actress, for God's sake,
everyone's "darling".

Once and for all, Jock,
did you fuck her?

No.

Thanks.

I can't come to the flat any more,
my darling. It's too risky.

- Is it your job?
- Yeah...

In a manner of speaking.

It must be amazing,
being so important.

You're a sweet girl.

Perhaps I could put you up
somewhere. Away from Ward.

I like living with Stephen.

We have a laugh.

Besides, I'd get lonely
on my own.

I'm just used to people
being round. That's all.

Yeah, me too.

Public school. The army.

It's a tricky old business.

Yeah.

Better in a bed, really.

For your stockings.

- I don't want-
- Or your mum.

Thanks.

I'll see you around then.

Bye, darling.

As your solicitor,

I'm happy with this.

Legally speaking.

Must we keep the piece
about the girl?

It sounds so bloody cheap.

Yes, absolutely, Jack.

This is my last opportunity,

as principal law officer,
as well as your friend...

The House will accept this as your personal
statement, absolutely without challenge.

If anything in there
is untrue, Jock,

and you're lying to the House,

you'll be exposing yourself to
blackmail for the rest of your life,

and violating one of this country's
most sacred institutions,

committing an act
of the very gravest dishonour.

Then I have nothing to fear.

We're heading to the airport
in a couple of hours.

Yeah, we'll be back
in London tonight.

Nah, don't worry,
dead to the world.

Yeah, it's all going
smooth as silk.

Just tell 'em to get the studio
ready and we're sorted.

You leave her to me.

I say jump,
she says how high, mate.

Okay, okay, cheers.

The Express are putting you up in a
proper hotel when we get back to London.

Your mum's already there.

My mum?

Don't worry, you won't have to share.
They've signed her up.

She's got an angle,
might as well make a few bob for herself.

This is just the beginning,
Chrissie, you can name your price.

Fuck the Mirror 's poxy grand.

We're talking thousands,
tens of thousands.

Twenty-five percent.

Sorry?

It's not fair, you taking half.

Twenty-five per cent
of whatever I'm earning.

- Sounds more like it to me.
- Okay.

Steady on, love,
you can't just pluck a figure from thin air!

You did.

It's my life you're selling!

If you don't like it, Paul,
I'll find someone else to be my manager-

Ey, ey, I've done everything
for you, girl.

You wouldn't be here
without me.

Get off.

Now!

Okay, then...

Twenty-five it is.
We don't want to fall out.

Mr. Speaker, I would
like to take this opportunity

to make a personal statement
to the House,

regarding the disappearance
of Miss Christine Keeler.

I last saw Miss Keeler
in December 1961,

I have not seen her since.

Any suggestion that I was
in any way responsible for,

or involved with
the absence of Miss Keeler

from the trial of Mr. John
Edgecombe at the Old Bailey

is entirely and wholly untrue.

My wife and I
first met Miss Keeler

in July 1961,
at a house party at Cliveden.

Amongst the guests attending
there were a Dr. Stephen Ward,

whom my wife and I
already knew slightly,

and a Mr. Yevgeny Ivanov,

an attaché
at the Russian Embassy.

The only other occasion upon which
either I or my wife had met Mr. Ivanov

was briefly at an official
reception at the Russian Embassy.

And both myself and my wife
had a standing invitation

to visit Doctor Ward
at his home.

Between July and December 1961,

I met with Miss Keeler
on about half a dozen occasions

at Doctor Ward's flat,

when I called in
to see him and his friends.

Miss Keeler and I
were on friendly terms.

There was no impropriety
whatsoever

in my acquaintanceship
with Miss Keeler.

And I shall not hesitate to
issue writs of slander and libel

should any scandalous
allegations be made or repeated

outside of this House.

Sir?
Any comment, sir?

You did well.

I've never been prouder of you.

Shit!

Remember,
don't give it away.

Stick to what Profumo said
for now, nothing happened.

Here we go, enjoy it!

Christine! Christine!

Will you be seeing Mr. Profumo
whilst you are here?

Christine! Christine!

Christine has nothing to say, fellas.
You'll have to read the details this Sunday.

What Mr. Profumo said
is correct.

I have not been
in his company since 1961.

One more please!
Christine! Please! Christine!

And just like that,
I was someone else.

A very important person indeed.

This is you here.
This gent will look after you.

- I just got to make a few calls.
- Who to?

Nothing to bother yourself about.
You go and freshen up.

Go on! Order what you
like, put it on the room.

I'll be back in a bit!

Hello, Mum.

Oh. You've caught the sun.

Your nose will peel
something rotten.

You don't have to do that, Mum.

No, I know, they do it for you,
every day, Chris.

I feel like the Queen!

Let me run you a bath.

You must be shattered.

Thanks.

Hello?

Congratulations, little baby.

You're the most famous woman
in England.

God, Stephen,
you've got some brass balls.

Give me one good reason I should speak
to you, after everything you've done.

How do you know I haven't been working
in your best interests all along?

Because you haven't!

Who do you think
was paying the bills in Spain?

Paul was, he cashed a cheque-

What are you saying?
Are you saying it was you?

I can neither confirm nor deny.

As I have always told you,

in this life you should aim
to have your cake and eat it.

Look around you, little baby.

Didn't I always say
you'd go far?

How does it feel?

I don't know.

It doesn't feel real.

It feels like a dream.

I wasn't me anymore,
scruffy Chris from Wraysbury.

I was Christine Keeler.

Maybe all a nightmare really is,
is a dream that comes true...

My nightmare, and Stephen's,
was about to begin.