Original subtitles

I better let Lestrade handle this thing by himself.

Well, after all, he does represent you in this place, you know.

Him doing the questioning and looking out of the seat cushions for diamonds.

I won't let him hold me through what we do now.

I'll do it better myself.

Why don't you, O 'Connor?

Huh?

First of all, I think I will.

Probably find out just as much as Lestrade would anyway.

I'll do it at once.

Well, where did you come from?

I don't know.

What? Huh?

Oh.

Come here.

Well, we'll start with this one.

My name's Watson.

Dr. Watson.

Oh, you want my indebted for this, do you?

Well, I've got to ask you one of your questions, which you're doing on the

train. Where you're going, things I get you.

Why? Customary.

There's been a murder committed.

Did my food come?

It's in the kitchen.

Thanks for that.

Are you a policeman?

No? Then by what right do you force your way into my compartment?

If you need anything just call.

Thank you.

The young lady is taking her mother to Scotland for burial.

In a coffin?

That is the customary method, I believe.

Mr. Stroud, I think we'll take a look at that coffin. Might be interesting.

Hmm. I was about to suggest that beneath my sofa throne.

Conductor, I'll have a look in the luggage bay. This way, sir.

I've barely put my bags down. Is this because it looks in the brochure?

I'm just in the door. Oh, it looks lovely in the brochure.

Oh, just give me a sec, love.

I've just got to answer the door.

Sorry, love, that was just a package for Dad.

So, what's the impression?

So far, so good.

I'll call you later and report.

Do.

Of course, Mum.

Let me get settled and I'll call you soon as.

Okay. Okay, love.

Dad sends kisses.

Yeah, kisses back.

Love you.

Love you.

Thank you.

Hi, Dad.

Well, will you too?

Perfect, Dad.

Oh, guess what?

I am the first person to stay here. It's been renovated.

Ah, excellent.

Excellent.

Book five, love.

It's fine, Dad.

It'll come.

It always does. I just need a couple of days cooling off and I'll be able to

jump right in.

Absolutely.

Sophie's lovely.

Tell her thanks for me, for keeping the flag flying.

I know you've been kind, squirrel.

She's away.

It's only a village bookshop, but we're proud of you. That's all.

No one else from this quaint corner of the world has ascended to such a dizzy

height.

I'm not exactly J .K. Rowling, Dad.

Ah, well, she wasn't either until Hollywood came calling.

I think you'll find she's always been J .K. Rowling.

That means the world to me, you know it does.

Stop worrying.

I know, I know.

I just... Well, I just don't like to think of you being unhappy, that's all.

It breaks my heart.

Stop, Dad.

You'll make me cry again.

And I'll get sorted one way or the other.

Dad, I love you.

Annabelle. Our guests are here, unfortunately still alive.

Is your face on yet?

Dust and dirt everywhere, and the water barely trickles.

Couldn't you have had the place cleaned?

Atmosphere, darling. You know how ghosts are. They never tidy up.

And that's a very fetching outfit, but hardly suitable for a party.

I'm not going to the party.

This spend -the -night ghost party was your idea, remember?

Since it's going to cost me $50 ,000, I want you to have fun.

The party was my idea until you invited all the guests.

Why all these strangers? Why none of our friends?

Friends? Do we have any friends?

No, your jealousy took care of that.

I had a reason for inviting each guest. I wanted kind of a cross -section.

From psychiatrist to typist, and from drunk to jet pilot.

They share one thing. They all need money.

Now let's see if they're brave enough to earn it.

And you call this a party?

Could be.

Why do you always do that? It spoils the champagne.

It might explode.

Never does.

Would you guarantee that?

That isn't funny, Frederick.

Make a good headline.

Playboy kills wife with champagne cork.

Where'd it come from?

From in here.

Aesop's Fables, a new translation by V .S. Vernon Jones, with an introduction

G .K. Chesterton, 1912 edition.

Introduction Aesop embodies an epigram not uncommon in human history.

His fame is all the more deserved because he never deserved it. The firm

foundations of common sense.

The shrewd shots at uncommon sense that characterize all his fables belong not

to him, but to humanity.

In the earliest human history, whatever is authentic is universal, and whatever

is universal is anonymous.

In such cases, there is always some central man who had first the trouble of

collecting them, and afterwards the fame of creating them. He had the fame, and

on the whole he earned the fame.

There must be something great and human, something of the human future and the

human past in such a man, even if he only used it to rob the past or deceive

future. The story of Arthur may have been really connected with the most

fighting Christianity of falling Rome, or with the most heathen traditions in

the hills of Wales.

To many, the frost of custom has made even these imposing annual ceremonies

and lifeless.

To you, at least of those present, they should have the solemnity of an

ordinance, called as you are this day to a high dignity and to so weighty an

office and charge.

You have chosen your genius, have passed beneath the throne of necessity, and

with the voices of the fatal sisters still in your ears, will soon enter the

plane of forgetfulness and drink of the waters of its river.

ere you are driven all manner of ways like the souls in the tale of air the

pamphylian footnote the republic book x it

is my duty to say a few words of encouragement and to bid you in the name

faculty god speed on your journey i could have the heart to spare you poor

careworn survivors of a hard struggle still lean and pale and leaden -eyed

study

and my tender mercy constrains me to consider but two of the score of

which may make or mar your life, which may contribute to your success or help

you in the days of failure.

In the first place, in the physician or surgeon, no quality takes rank with

imperturbability, and I propose for a few minutes to direct your attention to

this essential bodily virtue.

Perhaps I may be able to give those of you in whom it has not developed during

the critical scenes of the past month, a hint or two of its importance, possibly

a suggestion for its attainment.

Imperturbability means coolness and presence of mind under all

calmness amid storm, clearness of judgment in moments of grave peril,

immobility, impassiveness, or, to use an old and expressive word, phlegm.

It is the quality which is most appreciated by the laity, though often

misunderstood by them.

And the physician who has the misfortune to be without it, who betrays

indecision and worry, and who shows that he is flustered and flurried in

ordinary emergencies, loses rapidly the confidence of his patients.

In full development, as we see it in some of our older colleagues, it has the

nature of a divine gift, a blessing to the possessor.

A comfort to all who come in contact with him.

You should know it well, for there have been before you for years several

striking illustrations whose example has, I trust, made a deep impression.

As imperturbability is largely a bodily endowment, I regret to say that there

are those amongst you who, owing to congenital defects, may never be able to

acquire it.

Education, however, will do much.

Oh my god.

Hi, David.

Hey. How are things?

I've only just arrived, David.

And frankly, this is annoying.

Look, I just want you to know that I'm thinking about you.

All the time, actually.

Wow. Wow what?

That is some reformation in 24 hours.

I love you, Anna. You know that.

I'm always thinking about you.

And... You were thinking of me when you had your tongue inside of Alison's mouth

at your work day?

We were drunk.

I don't even particularly like Alison.

Oh.

Well, that's lovely.

So, I can expect you to grab the first woman on Oxford Street on a

Thursday afternoon as we're out shopping on a whim, on a compulsion.

The apology of the century. I'm sorry, for fuck's sake.

Look, David.

I appreciate you thinking of me and making an effort.

But I need... Yes, me.

I need time alone here to write the book that I am under contract to

deliver on time.

And now, figure everything out.

I understand that, but... Please, David.

I hear what you're saying. I take it on board and I appreciate it.

But it would mean so much more to me if you respect my need to have this time

alone.

Can you do that for me?

Yes, Anna.

I can do that.

Thank you.

I'll be in touch. You can count on that, okay?

Okay.

I'll wait to hear from you. Thank you, David.

We'll talk soon.

My agent's calling.

Okay, Anna.

Okay.

Settled in?

It's wonderful.

So, what's our plan?

First three chapters, delivery, as Jimmy said.

I'm on it, Stephen.

I won't let you down.

Do I ever?

It has been close to the Y, several times.

But today's a new day, with a new hideaway and a fresh perspective. Am I

You're not wrong, Stephen.

I've already made a start.

You know the terms of the advance and the contractual stipulations to deliver

chapters to deadlines, so I will leave you to your sterling efforts.

Thank you, Stephen.

I'll be in touch soon.

Excellent.

Tell Mom I haven't even been slightly tipsy yet.

I'll do that, love.

I think this house is haunted, Dad.

Oh, here we go.

Seriously, Dad.

There have been some... odd happenings. Such as?

Voices.

Sensations. Do you remember the time when you were 16?

Here we go.

No. Listen.

Okay, Dad.

At the cemetery.

Because you were guaranteed a visitation from the Red Lady of Midsomer's Eve.

I was a child.

True, but... No buts? But... There is a pattern when it comes to things that go

bump in the night with you, Squirrel. All right, Dad.

So maybe there's an element of wishful thinking.

But this is different.

It's different.

Love, look, I have to bring your mother her tea and hot water bottles, so...

You know the score.

The last servant, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Okay, Dad.

And keep me in... In the loop.

Of course, I know, Dad.

Love to you and Mom.

Night, Squirrel.

T minus 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3,

2, 1, 0.

Ignition.

Can you tell us who you are?

First off, Julie, we're not here to harm you.

We just want to talk briefly.

You'd like to know who I'm talking to first?

No, of course, Julie. That's fine.

My name is Simon.

Hello, Simon.

Can you, Julie, tell us where you are?

You asked, didn't you?

Am I?

You mean you don't know where you are?

No, of course, Julie.

I just want to hear it from you.

Yes,

Julie.

Do you mind,

um, can I ask your full name?

All right, Julie. Um, what is your full name?

Thank you, Julie.

You're very serious, isn't he, Simon?

Am I?

Okay, what's this about?

Well, this may seem like a strange question, but, um, I just ask that you

play along.

Go on, then. Go on, go on.

All right, Julie. Um, what year is it?

You're off your hook, are you?

Play along, please.

Oh, yeah. You know what you're probably doing, of course.

Yes.

You should see.

Should I?

It's a very wise move, Jimmy.

What's that over there?

Do you want to go there?

What do you mean, Jimmy?

Oh, dear God.

Oh,

she went by there.

Thank you.

It feels right.

It feels right.

I can't help falling for you.

And as the dust goes rolling back,

let's keep moving forward.

It feels right.

Amen.

Ha ha ha!

You will not drive me out.

be getting yourself a good husband and stop mooning about Hollywood.

Do you know what she wants to do?

She wants to go to Hollywood.

I've known it all along.

I've seen her making faces in the mirror and talking to herself.

That's what comes of your movies.

Why, what would you do if you did go to Hollywood?

I'd be an actress.

I would, I tell you. I've always known I could.

Guys, wouldn't it be wonderful...

Thank you.

No!

She noticed that the tall figure, now an inky black silhouette on the horizon

near the low wood corpse, was tilted in the direction of the farmhouse.

It seemed taller than before.

Even though hers wasn't a reliable vantage point from the window, she

having thought a great wolf was running the length of the hilltop when she

visited her aunt and uncle at the farmhouse while in her early teens, only

discover...

sheepdog hunting rabbits.

It was farmer still goes sheepdog, in fact, but that was a whole other mystery

since solved.

Emma closed the curtain with as much nonchalance as she could muster under

circumstances and walked quickly to the stairs that led to the upper floors.

She bounded them three steps at a time.

And when the first landing was reached, she made her way to the small window at

the centre of the house for a better look at the ridge.

The light was fading fast, though, and she knew instinctively...

There wasn't much hope of seeing more than from below, but she had some time

before dinner with her extended family, and so, being true to her inquisitive

nature, she peered out into the growing gloom.

Well, I wouldn't call it a fender bender, but there is a sizable dent in

passenger door.

Did that go mad?

No. No, actually, surprisingly.

quite philosophical about it.

He accepted that it wasn't my fault and that the other driver was backing out.

Refreshing.

Look, he's hovering now.

I'll put him on.

Careful, Mum.

Loving kisses, sweetheart.

Have you googled it yet?

Are you psychic, Dad?

Perhaps. A little. I nearly did, but I can't get distracted from the work.

Too many draconian conditions.

Well, if I was there, I wouldn't be able to resist it.

And you know what your dear old mum says?

I'm a chip off the old block.

Yeah, yeah. Me, the father.

The elder.

The work's going great.

I'm just hoping that things quieten down and I can keep up the pace.

Increase it even.

Okay, then.

I've got to fly.

Love and hugs.

Thou, O Lord, who seest the loathing of the sea, hear us and save us what you

tell us not.

Lord, save us, save us, save us, Lord, hear us and save us, please,

Lord, have mercy upon us. Christ, have mercy upon us.

The house was built for a sea captain called Nigel Meeks in 1875.

Meeks had a wife Margaret and a son called Reginald.

When Captain Meeks and his wife died in a carriage accident when Reginald was 22

years old, the young man put all of his efforts into a sea -going career of his

own. He was successful, and by the age of 29 was the captain of his own vessel,

the Noble Margaret.

By the age of thirty -one he was settled in Seaview House with his young wife

Winifred, a devoutly religious woman who held many intensive vigils for when her

husband and crew were at sea.

Twenty years of happiness was theirs, even though Winifred had suffered

episodes of mental illness, which saw her taking sanitarium rest on three of

these occasions.

Always coming through these times of strain and infirmity, Winifred Meeks

be backed by her husband's side, and preparing her schedule of devout prayer

he set off for the North Sea once again.

In the particularly stormy spring of 1927, Captain Meeks and his crew set

off, never to return.

The locality was devastated by this loss, as many had husbands and sons

crewing the vessel, and it wasn't long before Winifred Meeks...

and her own private determinations to pray for her husband's safe return, was

forgotten.

Winifred believed that if she scourged herself with green branches and

restricted her intake of food and water, her personal suffering would strengthen

her husband's resolve to make it home to her.

She continued to pray and scourge and restrict her food until she eventually

succumbed to malnutrition.

She was discovered starved to death, in the attic room of the house where she

had built a shrine to her husband and his safe return.

Several people over the years have experienced sightings of the ghost of

Winifred Meeks at Seaview and near the lighthouse where in life she had held

other vigils.

Hi,

Stephen.

Something for me?

Three chapters finished.

Almost.

Emailing them over tomorrow.

Fantastic, Anna.

We're on track.

Even if changes are suggested, we're delivering as promised and agreed

contractually.

A few bumps in the night here have inspired the creative process on this

But not ghosts, Anna.

I'm... Just do me a favour and get some proper sleep.

Don't let your imagination run into fantastical arenas that affect your real

-life abilities to separate fact from fiction.

Ah, of course, Stephen.

We must deliver.

I will email you tomorrow.

Have a great evening.

Take a look, there will be light enough for that, at the ruins of which Disney

was talking.

I don't exactly know where they are, by the way, but I expect I can hardly help

stumbling on them.

This he accomplished, I may say, in the most literal sense, for in picking his

way from the links to the Shingle Beach, his foot caught, partly in a gorse

root, and partly in a biggish stone, and over he went.

When he got up and surveyed his surroundings, he found himself in a

somewhat broken ground covered with small depressions and mounds these

when he came to examine them proved to be simply masses of flints embedded in

mortar and grown over with turf he must he quite rightly concluded be on

the site of the preceptory he had promised to look at it seemed not

reward the spade of the explorer

Enough of the foundations was probably left at no great depth to throw a good

deal of light on the general plan.

He remembered vaguely that the Templars to whom this site had belonged were in

the habit of building round churches, and he thought a particular series of

humps or mounds near him did appear to be arranged in something of a circular

form.

Few people can resist the temptation to try a little amateur research in a

department. quite outside their own, if only for the satisfaction of showing

up...

A patch of the turf was gone, removed by some boy or other creature.

It might, he thought, be as well to probe the soil here for evidences of

masonry. And he took out his knife and began scraping away the earth.

and now followed another little discovery a portion of soil fell inward

scraped and disclosed a small cavity he lighted one match after another

Thank you.

Please leave me alone.

Please leave me alone.

Please leave me alone.

Please leave me alone.

Please leave me alone.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I'm getting more rest than I can handle.

Oh, Dad's hovering as usual. I'll put him on.

See you tomorrow, love.

Stay bundled up. Love you.

I will.

Love you.

And how's my baby girl doing?

She's not doing too badly, Dad.

I know I keep saying it, but thank God for that Seaview landlord finding you

were calling an ambulance.

I know, Dad.

He is my knight in shining corduroy.

And lie around all day and night eating shit food?

No, Dad.

Not happening. I want to be here where I can at least have some control and...

Anyway... All right. And David?

All good?

He's certainly been making an effort.

Well, I'm glad to hear you're a squirrel.

I do like David.

Ah, I know you do, Dad.

I love you dad.

Studies of this property and numerous investigations have shown that no one

successfully lived at Seaview since the tragic deaths of Captain and Mrs Meeks.

Various investigators associated with our research, including members of the

ordained clergy, have been unable to rid the house of the strong presence there.

But further attempts are already in the preparatory stages.

I hope this has been of some help.

I trust you are on the road to a full recovery.

Kind regards, Francis.

Dr Francis Evans, parapsychologist.