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She told me once,
when we read a story, we inhabit it.
The covers of the books are like a roof and four walls, a house.
She, more than anything else in the world, loved the moment when you
finished a book and the story keeps playing like the most vivid dream in
your head.
And after that, she loved taking long walks to clear her mind of all the
emotions and feelings the book had started within her.
That very morning, after hazy years of reading and walking and mourning
the death of her husband, Florence Green woke up knowing exactly what she wanted
to do.
She was going to open a bookshop in the little village where she had ended up
living.
I am convinced this new bookshop will be everything you say it is, Mrs. Green.
But of course, for now, I can give you no definite commitment on behalf of the
bank. The decision does not depend upon me.
And I have your honest assurance that you have ample experience in the trade.
I learned the trade very thoroughly when I was a girl, and I don't believe it's
changed greatly since then.
And more importantly, I know I love reading.
Well, it will do little harm to let you know one or two things.
Consider them words of advice, if you prefer.
She had a great heart and enormous patience.
But not even these two virtues were strong enough to bear the grandiloquent
and patronising tones of Mr. Kebbell, the harbourer banker, whom everyone
called Mr. Potato Head behind his back.
I should tell you that there were those...
Who believe there are other possible uses for the old house?
Though, of course, there's always the possibility of a resale.
But I had no intention of reselling, Mr. Kebbell, not in the slightest.
What else do people think the old house could be used for?
Why have they done nothing about it in the past seven years? There were birds
nesting in it. Half the tiles were off the roof and it stank of rats.
Wouldn't it be better to fill the place with books for people to look at?
I read before going to sleep.
And I usually drift off to the land of Nod by about the third page.
So you see, don't you realize how useful books can be?
The weather in this part of the world was totally unpredictable.
Sometimes all four seasons could be present in a single morning.
That sunny day she left the bank feeling angry, proud, impatient
and terribly alive.
She was going to pursue her dream, and nobody, not even Mr Potato Head, was
going to stop her.
Hello, Mrs Green.
Are you busy?
No, Mr Raven.
Not at the moment. Why?
Can I throw the rope to you?
Yes, of course.
Watch out.
It's very slippery. That's how Ethan broke his leg yesterday, but I'm well
aware. That you are a woman who don't frighten easily. How do you know that?
Rumor has it that you're about to open a bookshop here.
Why do you feel it's something daring?
The only person here who reads is Mr Brundish.
And I don't think he's going to be leaving home to be your customer.
I think I saw him yesterday on the hill. Well, I caught a glimpse of him anyway.
I imagine you had a long... conversation.
Never stop talking.
Good luck Mrs. Green.
Do you not read Mr. Raven?
I don't.
Books leave me exhausted.
Real life's enough for me.
Mr. Brundish lived alone in the oldest house in Hardborough.
He didn't particularly like his own company, but after long years of battle,
he had reached a lasting truce with himself.
He adored books with the same passion with which he detested his fellow men.
He often cherished the fantasy that the volumes he devoured from morning to
night hadn't been written by human beings.
but had appeared through spontaneous generations.
There was nothing that bothered him more than the portraits of writers often
included in certain editions.
Not red.
A very deep maroon or red.
Anyway, I was the old officer.
How are you coping?
Well, Sam Wilkins was in and fixed the bath and tiled the roof and repaired the
system as best he could anyway.
That place is... It's an old fossil.
Even the straw is 500 years old.
Arms up.
But you are still going to move in there, aren't you? I spent my first
night there last night.
What? So soon?
I told everyone to watch out.
But nobody actually thought you were going to move into the old house. What
with the damp and all.
No, yes, I know they didn't, but it was fine.
A bit creepy in the night, but that's because I'm not used to it yet, I
suppose.
I should think there wouldn't be an old house like that. Cricks everywhere.
I'm afraid red isn't really for me.
It doesn't look very good on me from behind, but perhaps if I stand against
the wall most of the time while I'm there.
Too red, don't you think?
Not red.
A very deep maroon.
You'll get used to it in time.
Need a bit of jewellery. Make it stand out. Yeah, yeah.
You sure?
Well, of course I'm sure. It's not every day the General and Mrs Gamow invite you
to a party.
Stop agonising.
You look lovely.
Anyway, when you get there, you won't have to worry about how you look. No one
will mind you.
You'll probably know all the guests anyhow.
I'm Florence Green.
I'm the one opening the little bookshop.
That's it, of course.
Got it right away.
Of course.
Violet was very interested in that matter.
She wanted one of those conversations of hers with you about the
bookshop.
She's rather caught up right now.
But I believe she wishes to talk to you later.
So, what sort of stuff are you going to have in your shop?
Well, basically books.
They don't publish many books of poetry these days, do they? I don't see too
many about.
Well, I shall have some poetry, of course, but it doesn't sell quite so
well as other things like novels and essays.
It'll take me some time to find out what kind of stock I'll be bringing in. Of
course. For the moment, I've mainly ordered classics, Zachary, Dickens,
Keats. It is easy to be dead.
Say only this.
They are dead.
Do you know who wrote that?
No.
I'm so sorry, I don't.
I know
who
you are.
Yes, I know who you are. Of course, Mr. North.
So I have never had an invitation to the Stead before. I expect you come here
often. Oh, yeah.
I do get invited frequently.
Oh, thank you. Very kind.
Not very.
You've just moved into the old house.
All by yourself?
You're a widow.
I know.
Have you never thought of marrying again?
No.
No.
The problem is, I was very happily married.
Oh.
I was always under the impression that a perfectly normal woman is a widow.
Don't forget that.
Are you sure you've received the proper advice to run a business?
I've never met you before now, Mr. Nice, but I assume because of your words,
you'd be someone who would appreciate having a bookshop in Hartford.
I'm sure you know writers at the BBC and thinkers and so forth, and I
trust they come down here from time to time to see you and get some fresh air.
If they did come, I wouldn't find out what to do with them. And writers will
go anywhere where there is a free drink.
I'm not so sure about things like that.
I think Cathy, my so-called girlfriend, would look after us.
Well, at any rate, you must both come to my shop. I shall rely on you.
On no account.
Why are you wearing red?
Red's a colour that only looks good on housemaids on their day off.
It's not red. It's a deep maroon.
My dear lady.
Florence, isn't it?
I've been wanting to speak to you since you arrived, but I don't think there's
nothing better to do than steer me away from my partner. Thank you so much for
coming. Thanks for inviting me. It's such a lovely party. Everyone is talking
about your new venture. You have such a great news for business.
Well, yes, but it's... Have you been introduced to my husband?
Eh?
Come and tell Mrs Scream how delighted we are to see you.
And to think we've all been praying for a good book in our little town, haven't
we, Bruno?
Of course, my dear. There's no harm in praying.
Things would probably go much better if we all prayed more.
Just one thing, Mrs Scream, and a very small one at that.
You haven't actually moved into the old house.
Have you? Yes, I've been there over a week.
But there's no water.
Sam Wilkins connected the pipes for me.
Don't forget, Violet, you've been in London a good deal lately and you
haven't been able to control everything.
Why shouldn't I have moved in?
I believe I can spare you many disappointments and maybe even a bit of
money.
In fact, I hope to help you.
There are much more appropriate locations in Hartborough, especially for
a bookshop.
I'm afraid we are all so used to seeing the old house empty that we've
procrastinated year after year.
You've practically showed us all up by being in such a hurry, Mrs Green.
But the fact is, many of us are not at all convinced by the sudden
transformation of the old house into a shop.
Many of us believe it should be a kind of local art centre.
Fine, Violet. You could pray for that also.
Chamber music in summer, lectures in winter.
Very simply, no other old house that has the right to that.
And the end.
I've been negotiating this sale for over six months.
You see, it's...
Hard for me to believe there's anyone left in Harborough who doesn't know
about it. In fact, I'm sure they all know. And we have one great advantage.
It would be a shame to just throw it away.
Which is that now we have exactly the right person to take charge of the
matter. I mean to take charge of the centre.
You do understand, don't you? Why don't you think it over for a bit?
Ah.
How wonderful.
Her feet and head ached, and she regretted having taken the seamstress's
advice to the colour of her dress.
That was all.
Not for one moment did she think about the consequences that her modest act of
inhabiting Old House would bring upon her.
You look radiant.
Isn't that Lord Godfield?
My word.
What a deathless evening.
Lord Godfield.
How difficult it has been to try to reach you this evening. I hope Bruno has
told you about our new hardware.
The music and the art.
We were just talking about that.
Hello. Good morning.
Glad I caught you.
How are you?
Very well, thanks. Very well.
I wanted to ask you about my shop. I wanted to speak to you about my shop.
It's up for auction.
Yes. Not until April.
Well, it could be later still.
Well, the fact is, I'd much prefer to reach a private agreement before
that.
Well, as you've expressed a certain interest in the property, and since
you're not going to remain in the old house, I trust that you
appreciate that I'm too busy to pay attention to any rumours that I hear.
Well, it stands to reason you'll be making an offer on other premises.
There's been a misunderstanding, Mr Devon, but it... Yes, but it...
It doesn't matter in the slightest, and I should like to be able to help you.
Mrs Gamart was kind enough to tell me about her idea for an arts centre, from
which I'm sure every one of us living here in Harborough would benefit, and I
believe she is the one who is searching about for premises, and what could be
better than your fish shop?
I see.
You've been extremely kind.
Thank you for your help. You're welcome.
Well,
good morning. Thank you, Miss Green.
Florence had managed to live life thus far by pretending that human beings were
not divided into exterminators and exterminated, with the former at any
moment predominating.
Aha. I didn't know if you'd be down in London or... London? No, I'm here.
Well, I think I'm... Yeah? Yeah.
Um, Nescafe?
Oh, I've never tried it.
I have heard of it, but I'm told it's not made with boiling water.
Yeah.
This is all much too small for you. I know, I know.
I'm glad that you've dropped in.
No one else compels me to face the truth.
Well, that's fortunate, because I've come to ask you a question.
When Mrs. Gamart was talking at her party about the ideal person to run an
arts centre, it was you, of course, that she had in mind, wasn't it?
It wasn't me.
Sorry, Violet's party.
Did she expect me just to move out of my house and probably for that matter out
of the town altogether, assuming that you would come to the old house to
manage everything?
If she'd been referring to me, I doubt very much that she would have used the
word manage.
Do you fancy Nescafe or... Not?
No. No, neither, thank you. Are you sure?
Yes.
Do you mind if I... No, please.
I should probably get going.
Are you?
Really?
Yes.
Thank you, anyway.
Well, it's lovely to see you.
Well, from what I've heard, and practically by chance, you were starting
to think twice about the whole bookshop operation.
Well, then you've heard wrong, Mr. Thornton.
I am here to demand that all unresolved matters be resolved as quickly as
possible so that I might set up the bookshop without further delay.
But I was told that you... What?
That I'd be leaving the old house, which is, by the way, my only home.
Well, there are many other vacant properties in Harborough.
And as it happens, I have a list of some of the more out-of-the-way ones. I
expect no further delays, Mr Thornton. Please have all pending papers sent to
me. And once again, I'm ever so grateful for your help.
Take me in your arms And if I did
Just take me in your arms.
Is there something I can help you with, boys?
We are sea scouts, ma'am.
Yes, I see.
And just what is it that you're doing here? Mr Raven told us to stop around.
What would you like us to do?
Well, I want all the bookshelves put up in there.
Do you think you can manage that?
How many hand drills can you get us, ma'am?
I've been waiting here in the polling race.
If I can find my key.
When Mrs. Green opened the first box of books she had ordered, all the problems
and obstacles of those past few days simply vanished.
With each addition, the faces and the words of Mrs. Gamert, the banker,
her lawyer, and Milo North all faded away.
And for a moment,
She felt that her late husband, whom she had loved so dearly, was with her once
again.
And this was her happiest moment in the bookshop.
Very lonely job yours.
Oh, sorry about the waiters.
I don't get in the least bit lonely.
That shelving there is a fifth of an inch crooked.
And that plastering?
Look at their ears.
You can let them know the next time you see them.
No. No, it all looks wonderful, Mr Raven. I couldn't be happier with the
work the boys have done, honestly.
Is that you, Wally? Are your ears burning?
What are you doing here, boy?
I have a message for Mrs Green.
From who?
From Mr Brungish, Mr Raven.
What?
He came out of Hothouse and handed you a note?
No, he leaned out of the window and told me to go and give this to Mrs Green.
I don't see how this can be for me.
I've never spoken to Mr. Brundish, ever. I can't believe he even knows my name,
and whenever I run into him on the headland, he always goes off like a
shot, as if he's just seen a ghost.
Well, I certainly know you are.
Finds out about everything that happens in town. Don't know how he does it.
Don't you worry about the envelopes' black edges?
You ordered those envelopes back around 1919, when they were all returning from
the First War, and... Mrs.
Brundish died.
During their honeymoon.
Oh, yes.
How did she die?
She was down crossing the marshes.
She'd gone to pick some blackberries to bake a pie for Mr Brundish.
Dear Madam.
I would like to wish you well.
Back in my great-grandfather's day, there was a bookseller in the high
street who, if my memory serves me correctly, knocked out one of his
customers with a desk pad when he became annoying.
There'd been some delay in the arrival of the latest instalment of a new novel.
I believe, I believe it was Dombey and Son.
As of that day, no one has plucked up courage enough to sell books in this
forsaken coin of the world.
It is a great honour you do us.
I should undoubtedly visit your shop one day if I ever went out, but nowadays I
rather make a point of never doing that.
In spite of everything, should you deem some literary novelty worthy, please
don't hesitate to send it to me.
In the case of biographies, it's better, I find, if they're about good people.
Whereas novels are much more interesting if they're about nasty people.
Please have the same boy who delivered this letter bring them to me with a
note, obviously, indicating their price.
Yours, respectfully, Edmund Brandish.
My first customer.
Come round later and I'll give you a package for Mr. Brundage. Thank you,
Mrs. Green.
You'll probably need a bright young helper in the afternoons in case it gets
busy.
I was thinking of one of the Giffen girls.
Mrs. Giffen is more or less up to date on the matter and I thought about asking
her which of her daughters might suit you the best.
I think her youngest, Christine.
They're clever, but she probably wouldn't give her up to you for that
precise reason.
Get off the thing. Close the mouth.
Fahrenheit 451.
What kind of book is this?
You're Christine Gipping, aren't you?
I would have thought your older sister would have... My elder sister spends all
her time with Charlie Cutts. In fact...
On my way over here, I saw their bikes hidden under fallen leaves over by the
crossroads. You won't have any trouble like that with me, though.
Those things aren't happening to me yet.
And I find boys to be repulsive.
Um, and what about your other sister?
She spends all her time at home, minding Margaret and Peter.
They're the little ones.
You mustn't think I don't want to bother you for the job. It's just... That you
don't really look old enough.
Or strong enough.
That's hard to say after first glance.
You look old, but you don't look strong.
It's all the same anyway.
We're all available.
But my eldest sister will be absent from work half the time, and the middle one
won't show up.
Just a warning.
And I should also let you know, I don't like reading. I like geography and
maths.
I'll come round this afternoon and discuss things with your mother.
And don't worry, I won't force you to read.
As you wish.
All she'll say is that I can work every day after school and all day Saturday.
And you can't pay me less than 12 shillings and six pence a week.
Oh, and to tell me to shut up if I speak too much.
And what about your homework?
Oh, I can do that when I get home.
After tea.
Is that your cardigan?
Did you knit it yourself?
It looks like it would have been very difficult.
It was in the magazine Women's Issue, but the instructions were for short
sleeves.
You have no children, Mrs Green?
No.
Should I have?
I don't know.
People always say life is passed by women who have no children.
There aren't enough cards on display, so I put some more out.
Hmm.
They really should be ordered into romance and nature, don't they?
Um, is this what you call romance?
Oh, God.
What are these?
I haven't seen them before. Those sales reps really don't know what they're
sending you.
But we've got to throw them away.
I'm sure there's a few people in this village who wouldn't mind getting these
posted through their letterbox.
Right. A what?
Stop looking for things.
Corrupted.
Where's the bin?
Don't throw them in the bin.
Why
is
Christine so late?
Because she's been working for this lady.
Why?
Because she has a shop full of books for people to read.
Why?
I don't know.
Good afternoon, Mrs. Gimping.
Come in, Mrs. Green.
Let's have a talk.
I'm not sure if Christine's already spoken to you about the 12 shillings.
Yes, yes, yes, she did.
Dear Madam, spare yourself the trouble of sending more books of poetry or
spuriously complicated novels.
Please, at your earliest convenience, send more books by Ray Bradbury.
Yours respectfully, Edmund Brundage.
Very soon, Mrs Green's business began to thrive.
Her days were fully occupied from morning to night.
And for a short time, she forgot about everything concerning Mrs. Gamert and
her plans to turn an old house into an art center.
Good morning, Miss.
Hello, Wally. Thank you. Do me this favour.
Here you are.
Would you like to come on an outing, Christine?
I can't. We've got new stock arriving tomorrow.
Okay, then. Goodbye.
Wouldn't you like to go on an outing?
I like Wally, but... Yes, I know, you did tell me you find boys repulsive.
But believe me, you'll get over it.
Yeah, I suppose.
It's just, I prefer to be here, in the bookshop with you.
It's fun working here.
Even if I don't like reading.
Miss Green, there's dirt on the car.
We must let them browse. It's part of the tradition of a bookshop.
Yes, they leave everything in such a mess and don't buy anything.
Miss?
Florence?
It's the North.
What is the pride?
Seems Violet isn't going to get her own way.
Has she stopped by here yet?
We haven't been open very long. She will.
She'll appear eventually.
She's far too much self-respect not to.
I'm sure she is simply dying of curiosity.
She'll be quite welcome.
Are you making any money yet?
Not yet.
You really need something like this.
This is volume one.
Is there a volume two?
Yes. But I've, um, lent it to someone. Or left it somewhere.
You should keep them together.
It's a set.
Lolita.
Have you read it? Is it any good?
It'll make you rich, Florence.
Yes, but is it any good? I only stop good novels. I don't move fast, you
know. What is Graham Greene to the masterpiece?
There are days you think otherwise.
Thank you for suggesting it. I sometimes feel the need of good advice. You're
very kind.
You're always making that mistake.
Until next time.
We have the blue one at home. It has Westminster Abbey on it.
But it goes all the way round the tin.
I'll put the heat on.
Mum says those power from heat sound very safe.
They're not dangerous, as far as you remember.
Clean them out properly.
And you don't pour the liquid in from both sides at once.
You must never do that.
Ever. Do you hear me?
I like this old tray.
You could leave it to me in your will.
What?
I don't think I really want to start thinking about my will just yet.
But when I do, I'll try to remember that.
You will?
Are you sure?
Is the tray from Japan?
No, it's Chinese lacquer.
My grandfather brought it back from Nanking.
He was a great traveller.
I don't think they even make... lacquer like this in China anymore.
I was wondering if you'd like me to help you with your schoolwork or something.
We could read things together maybe. There's nothing to read. They gave you
some pictures and say which one's the odd one out.
Or they give you some numbers like 8, 5, 11, 9,
22 and 16.
And you have to say which one comes next.
I'm beginning to know which one came next.
You're not cold, are you?
No.
That mine is a ferret.
He smiles just like a ferret. I wish he'd just go to hell.
You're too nice.
He's a nasty piece of work. When I'm older, I'm going to try and be like him.
It's much more practical.
I know you don't like reading, but there's a book I'm afraid you must read.
What's it about?
It is about good pirates and evil children.
Promise me you'll just at least open it one day. Well, if you let me have the
Chinese tray in your world, I can try.
Deal.
Dear Mr. Brandis, In close, you will find a copy of a novel that has just
been published.
Lolita.
I must confess my bewilderment with it.
I'd like to know your sincere opinion of it and ask for a bit of advice.
Do you think it's a suitable book to be sold in my bookshop?
Yours sincerely, Florence Green.
Here. If you don't like the book, there's no need to pay for it.
Stop it, stop it, stop it.
Hello, Mrs. Giffing. Is everything all right?
I thought you should know as soon as possible.
Mr. Brandish has asked me to deliver my fruitcake on Sunday.
And he's also asked me to ask you if you'd like to stop by Hothouse for tea
that same afternoon.
This Sunday?
Why, yes.
Yes.
Yes, all right.
Yes,
I'll send him a note. Thank you for the message, Mrs Keble. I've never delivered
a cake to Mr Brandish before.
I hope this doesn't become a habit.
Mrs Green, is it true? Are you having tea at Holt House this Sunday? Yes, Mrs
Keble, it is true.
Is there something I should know before I go there? Mrs Green?
Mrs Devon, how's Mr Devon?
Still having trouble finding a bar for the fish shop, I gather. I think. I bet
the General and Mrs Gamart are seething about the matter.
They've never been invited to Holt's house, you know.
Oh, yes, I've heard.
So, Holt's house for tea, eh?
He so jealously guards his privacy after the tragic death of his beloved wife.
Well, I...
Sent him some books and asked for advice about the bookshop. Did you know? Oh,
right.
Wow.
Well, I should get back there, I suppose.
Tipping down at him. Cats and dogs.
Good afternoon.
Oh, good afternoon.
Why is there a bookshop?
What do you mean, advice?
Come into the dining room.
You asked me a question.
Yes, I did.
About a new novel.
You were thoughtful enough to ask me a serious question, thinking I would be
impartial.
You undoubtedly thought I was quite alone in the world.
Never. I did not for one second. I imagine you've been told all kinds of
things about me. All bad.
No.
Really?
I am a widower, I'm sure you've been told. I imagine you've also been told
that my wife died whilst gathering blackberries to make me a pie, which is
the latest version going around town. Well, none that have been
circulating are true.
She didn't drown?
No.
In the...
sixth month of our marriage we both, having been best of friends, decided
that a friendly separation would be for the best.
She lives in London.
I haven't seen her for 45 years but according to my information she's still
in very good health.
Although apparently she's put on quite a lot of weight.
She always loved sweets.
Although I can never remember her baking a cake in her life.
I suppose for the people of Harborough, it's more picturesque to imagine Holt
House inhabited by a mourning widower. As you already know, literature
has done a lot of damage.
Those Dan Bronte sisters, for example.
by whom you have not included a single copy in those packages to me, for which
I am ever so grateful.
I imagined you would have read them already.
One of the Gipping girls, the third one, lends you a hand in your shop, I
believe, and that is all the assistance you have at your disposal.
I have a bookkeeper who comes in from time to time and then there's my
solicitor. Tom Thornton, you won't get very far with that one.
Can't say I'm very fond of Mr. Thornton.
You know, Mr. Brandish, there is a certain responsibility about
trying to run a bookshop.
I imagine there is, especially if not everyone approves of it.
There are certain people who are rather put out by your bookshop,
Mrs. Green.
I refer to Violet Gamert, who had other plans for the old house and who now, it
seems, has taken further offences, hasn't he?
I'm sure that she means well.
Means well.
Violet Gamert.
That harpy.
What she wants is an arts centre.
Now, I ask you, what the hell does this damn village need with an arts centre?
And how could art have a centre, but she's got it into her head that it does,
and that's the reason she wants to get rid of you. And she won't stop until she
does.
She can't do that.
It's my bookshop.
It's my home.
People like Violet Gamert have made me what I am.
Mrs Green.
Thanks to her connections and acquaintances, Mrs Gammett is a very
powerful woman. Does that not concern you?
No.
May I get back to the reason for my visit?
I'm thinking of making a first order of Lolita of 250 copies, which
would be a considerable risk.
Of course, I'm not consulting you in a business sense. That would be quite
wrong. All I want to know, before I put in the order, is whether you think it is
a good book and whether you think it is right that I should sell it in
Hartborough.
I do not attach.
as much importance as you do, I dare say, to the notions of right and wrong.
I have read Lolita, as you asked me to.
It is a good book, and therefore I think you should try and sell it to the people
of Harvard. They won't understand it, but that's all for the best.
Understanding makes the mind lazy.
Thank you.
Thank you, Mr. Brandish.
Well, I've given you my opinion.
Let me tell you what it is I admire about human beings.
What I value most.
is the one virtue they share with gods and animals and which I will therefore
no longer refer to as a virtue. I mean
courage.
And you, Mrs. Green, possess that quality in
abundance.
I would like...
You make me believe once more in things.
Things I thought...
for the team and to punish everything was delicious.
Well, please, come again when you wish.
And good luck with Lolita.
Yes, thank you.
I mustn't let myself worry. Well, there's life, there's hope.
God, what a horrifying thought.
Thank you.
Pure advice, Mr. Brundish.
My pleasure.
Do you think dandelion wine will be coming soon?
I must say, I can't thank you enough for introducing me to Ray Bradbury.
We'll have Wally bring it round.
Or maybe I will bring it.
I would like that very much.
We've never had so many of the same one before.
Such a long one.
This book is already famous, Christine.
Everybody's heard of it.
Well, I don't suppose they ever expected they'd be able to buy it here in
Harvard.
What they won't expect is to find 250 copies.
You really lost your head over this one.
4th of September, 1959.
Dear Mrs. Green, I have in my possession a letter from John Drury
& Co., legal representative of Mrs. Violet Garmick of the Stead,
to the effect that the current state of your window display is attracting
rather undesirable attention from both potential and actual customers.
Their client likewise assures that she feels personally affronted by the fact
that she, in her position as Justice of the Peas and Chairman of numerous
committees, list and close to you with, must carry out her shopping
expeditiously.
Dear Mr. Thornton, you have been my solicitor now for several years, which
allows me to infer that acting for me... means acting energetically on my behalf.
Have you even seen the window displayed for yourself?
Dear Mrs. Green, in response to your message on the 5th of September, I have
attempted on two occasions to approach your shop window, but found it
impossible. People from all around the... Yes, Mrs. Green.
Dear Mr. Thornton,
what exactly is your advice, then?
Yours truly, Florence Green.
I think we should eliminate the agglomeration. Stop your customers from
assembling in the narrowest part of the high street before any formal complaint
is made.
And I also think we should put an end to the sale of this banal and
sensationalistic novel by V. Nabokov that has given rise to so many
complaints.
Yes, Miss Green.
Dear Mr Thornton, a good book is the precious distillation of a master spirit
embalmed and preserved for the purpose of achieving a life beyond life, which
is why it is, undoubtedly, a necessary commodity.
Yours sincerely, Florence Green.
Dear Madam, with regard to your request for an express prohibition concerning
Mrs Florence Green... Dear Madam...
With regard to your request, we regret to inform you that after having been
duly advised, it would be better to talk this matter.
As a reported crowd, things have been curbed by the local police.
Deepest apologies, Mrs. Gamert.
Why won't you come to London? Oh, I can't think of anything worse than
living in London. You know how I feel about people.
I mean, look at this. Look at this. It's absolutely stunning.
Well, I'm not staying here.
What do you mean you're not staying? Where are you going?
Oh, for goodness sake, you have to just keep storming off.
What? Wait, just be careful, otherwise you're going to flip.
Hold on, wait.
What on earth are you doing sitting there, Florence?
I don't know why I go for walks. Walks are for pensioners, and I should get to
work. Is there room on that step for me?
I'm Cathy, Mrs Green.
Florence told me so much about you.
Cathy, I wouldn't believe that there are any nice spots in Harbour, so...
I brought her out here to see for herself.
And what is it that you do at the BBC, Cathy?
I work for the RPD. Oh.
Recorded Programme Department.
Monitoring expenses.
Not exactly exciting.
Well... We've just been for lunch with Violet Gamart.
Yeah, gave her a chance to not disapprove of us.
Mrs Gamart is very kind.
Well, not... I like kind people.
Yeah, except for Florence.
Don't flatter me.
I get the feeling you work less and less every day.
Don't forget the BBC's a corporation and your salary is paid for with public
funding. Catty deals with that.
She's in charge of my expenses, she.
You're not cold, my darling.
Perhaps it's time we also pootle off back to our humble abode and leave
Florence alone, lost in her thoughts.
I think I'll stay here a little longer.
As long as I'm not bothering you. No, not at all.
Myler told me you're a widow.
Yes. Yes, I am.
A widow.
That's a strange, dark word, don't you think?
My husband died, um, 16 years ago.
How did you meet?
We met at a bookshop, actually.
In London.
We were in love from the first moment.
We had to organize and classify the poetry section together at Muller's.
He used to read aloud to me every night.
Peeps and George Eliot and Thackeray.
Never give a lady a restive horse.
We loved that one.
We were very happy.
Busy doing a million things and nothing.
And then the war came.
But I still have his letters, all his letters, and I can still
hear his voice in my head when I read them.
Milo didn't do you justice when he described you to me.
Oh, dear.
Spare me from Milo's appraisal. I don't think I want to know what he thinks of
me. I still don't know what he thinks of me.
Or if he feels something for me.
Or, for that matter, if he feels anything at all.
I guess that's part of his thing.
Keeping you guessing all the time.
You know what they say?
With that kind of man, you'll never know whether he's hiding a rich inner world
or... absolutely nothing.
He'll never read it out.
Aardvay! So your bill is already having its third reading. Excellent.
And I have you to thank for all your inspiration, Aardvay.
Whatever do you mean?
The idea came to me during your party last spring.
Your wonderful campaign in favor of an art center could become a reality with a
bill like this.
And other communities could benefit as well from philanthropy such as yourself.
Well, I've only done what I felt was right.
The Access to Places of Public Value Bill will make sure that town councils
can acquire their historic properties by compulsory purchase for public use.
Isn't it wonderful?
Oh, I'm sure your father's smiling down on us from heaven with great pride at
this very moment.
I'm just so glad we arranged to meet a day of all days.
Precisely when the bill has been approved.
Do you fancy fish for lunch?
I know a wonderful place round the corner.
I'm afraid living in Hardborough puts you off eating fish anywhere else. It's
so fresh down there.
So true.
Spot of tea, then?
Perfect.
Then I shall continue with what I was doing. I have a sick friend who needs my
attention. You're such a wonderful and generous woman, aren't I?
Hurry on with your work.
Heads down.
Eyes down. Come on with your work.
No need to get up, children.
I'm the inspector.
No, you're not.
I'm sorry. I don't believe I know you.
This is Trill.
The name is Shepard.
If you'd be so kind, you may examine my certificate from the Ministry of
Education Authority.
It authorises me, under the Shocks Act of 1950, to visit any school where I
have cause to believe that there are children studying who also engage in
some sort of work.
Work? I can assure you they'd all love to have a job.
Outside of family businesses and newspaper deliveries, you tell me what
else awaits them out there.
And by the way...
I don't remember you ever visiting here before.
Well, due to staff shortages, our visits are not quite as frequent as we would
like them to be.
So who suggested you come this time?
There is only one who has a steady job after school.
Christine Gipping, who works regularly.
Where?
The old house bookshop.
Stand up, Christine.
If you'll excuse me.
This is the girl?
Yes. Would you mind coming with me?
Good day.
Good day.
I don't want you to think I hold anything against you.
The law is the law. That's the main thing I came to say.
Experience is important.
The dropouts will say they won't hire us for that experience, but where can we
get it?
But we always tell Christine that if she needs references, she only has to come
to you.
Yes, of course.
All she has to do is ask.
Christine's a wonderful girl, Mrs. Gipping, and I'm very, very, very fond
of her.
But now she'll have an opportunity to concentrate on her studies.
She doesn't want to give up her own money.
No, of course not, but I suppose after what happened at the school... Well,
we've been looking around a bit, and we hope they'll be hiring her to work on
Saturdays at that new bookshop.
New bookshop.
Yeah, they all open very soon, you know. In Devon's.
The fish shop.
I had no idea.
You really must keep an eye on the competition, Mrs Green.
You will give Christine those references, won't you?
She had no way of knowing this, but the new bookshop was not an enterprise like
her own, but an investment by the simple-minded Lord Godfield on the
advice of the General and Mrs. Gamut.
Thank you for coming, Mrs Green. No need to thank me, Mr Keble.
Do you realise how very little working capital you have at present? Yes.
It's rather difficult not to notice.
I dare say things have taken quite a dip in your business of late, haven't they?
Well, I thought you might like to know there's a possible buyer for your shop.
Thank you very much.
Mr. Cabell, the shop is not to sell.
Message received.
Thank you for coming.
It has been an incalculable help.
Well.
I really shall miss you.
I don't want to go, you know.
I don't want to work in that other bookshop.
My mother, she simply doesn't understand. No, please.
You mustn't worry about that.
How can I not worry?
You can't run this place by yourself.
And no one in this village will help you.
No, I... I shall manage. I absolutely... I shall manage.
I do hope you'll come by from time to time in the evenings.
I won't need the time.
Yeah, no.
No, of course you'll be busy.
I've got something for you.
Now you won't have to wait until my funeral.
You're so kind, Mrs Grace.
You're so bloody kind.
Good afternoon, Florence.
Mrs. Green.
Mr. Brandish.
How are things coming along down there?
Um... I think you know as well as I do, don't you?
Indeed, I do know. Some of it.
What do you intend to do?
Do?
Is there anything I can do?
Yes.
No.
Carry on.
That's what I was going to do.
Florence, I would very much like to have met you at another time in my life.
in another life altogether.
But I'm going to do what small thing is in my power to help you.
It's a foundation.
It's very warming to hear and I so
appreciate.
I, um... You might... There's nothing you... I will
have a word with her. I will talk to that woman.
She might just listen. She might... put an end to this loathsome harassment.
You'd really do that?
Really?
Come out of your seclusion for me?
Indeed I will.
I don't know that it shall be of much use, but I'm willing.
I could just put a bullet through it, but...
I'm
not sure that would be to your liking.
I don't know how to ever thank you.
That's the most noble gesture
anyone's ever made for me.
You work too hard, Florence.
I try to concentrate.
Please put those down. They've only just come in. I haven't checked them yet.
Surely you have to succeed if you give everything you have.
I can't see why.
Everyone gives it everything they have, eventually.
We all die.
Dying is hardly success.
Too young to bother about dying.
I believe Cathy might snuff it.
She wastes so much energy.
How is Kathy?
No idea.
Matter of fact, she's left me.
She's gone to live with someone else. In Wantage.
He works in World Service.
I'm opening my heart to you.
So... We're having a special moment, aren't we?
I suspect we've told everyone else in Harborough who lives in here.
Yeah, but it affects you particularly because I'll have so much more free time
as of now.
I'll be able to work here part-time as your assistant.
I guess you must miss that little girl.
Christine had a great deal while she was here and she was extremely nice with the
customers. Not as nice as I can be.
So, um... How much can you pay me?
I gave Christine 12 shillings and sixpence a week. I don't feel able to
offer any more than that at the moment.
If you're interested in the job, you may come by in the afternoons for a few
weeks and try it out.
Trial period.
But please only remember I didn't offer you the job, you asked yourself.
Has anyone ever told you you have a marvellous pair of ankles?
Oh, do shut up.
Shower down thy love, oh burning bright.
For one night or the other night will come the gardener in white.
And gathered flowers are dead.
Christine!
You better watch out, Mr. Noss.
What unpleasant expressions they teach you in that school.
I didn't come here to see people of...
Your thought.
Why, um... Why are you not helping Mrs Green anymore?
She misses you.
She's got you, hasn't she?
You're always in and out.
They say they won't let her keep the bookshop.
They say?
Who say?
You say? You know very well who.
You have other plans for the old house.
Why do you even care, you little shrimp?
They say she can't keep it.
He'll go after her.
He'll take her to court.
She'll have to swear to tell the truth.
The whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Well, we must hope that it doesn't come to that.
I never had time to sit around when I was her assistant.
No wonder.
You're a child.
Or a woman.
Neither of them have any idea of how to relax.
You'd just better watch out.
I've come to get this. It belongs to my mum.
Give me a moment
What
a
pleasant surprise Mr. Brandeis.
Oh, please, have a seat.
Thank you.
I have come to ask you something. I don't know if this is the proper way to
do so, but I can't think of a better one.
If you're not in the mood for questions, you should say so now.
Would you like some tea?
I don't want your tea.
I want you to leave Florence Green alone.
Did she ask you to come see me? Certainly not.
She is simply a woman who wants to keep a bookshop.
If Mrs. Green has reason to complain, I suppose she should turn to a solicitor.
though I believe she's rather given to changing her legal advice. The bookshop
is drafty, impossible to mortgage a second time, and from what I've heard,
damp. Leave her alone. The woman's done nothing to you.
Has it not occurred to you, as someone who must be extremely concerned about
the welfare and future of this place, that a building of such historical
interest could be put to a better use?
Old age is not the same thing as historical interest, otherwise you and I
would be far more interesting than we are. I repeat.
I want you to leave my friend Florence Green alone.
Alone!
Well, it appears your friend has failed to take the law into
consideration, something which I've observed on several occasions.
If that is the case, I can have nothing to say on the matter.
The law will have to take its course. Are you referring to a law that didn't
exist a year ago and that Parliament approved behind our backs?
I'm talking about an order for compulsory purchase or an eviction,
which is the proper term. Did you put your precious nephew up to drafting that
bill? I won't deny my nephew's bill may affect the bookshop. As it is essential,
the premises must have remained empty for five years.
That would undoubtedly apply to the old house.
But there are so many regulations.
To be considered, Mr. Brandish, ordinary mortals like myself, and of course like
you, would hardly know where to begin.
I am in politics and subsequently am fairly familiar with bureaucracy, but
this goes way beyond me.
We wouldn't even know how to find the right person to write to. Madam, I know
perfectly well who to write to.
Over the past years, if I'd not made it my business to know, I would have lost
several hundred acres of marshes and farming land and two bumping mills.
That's why I'm certain that if nothing has been done so far, we can still form
a common front against them.
We can certainly think of ways of making the move easier if it is actually made.
There are still plenty of other places to let.
In larger towns than Hartford. That's not what I'm talking about. You should
be talking about what I'm talking about.
I wish I could
do something more.
I assume then that you intend to do nothing.
You get it?
I can't answer that question, yes or no.
I suspect that by outrageous you mean unexpectedly offensive, and the truth is
you have been fairly offensive, but also... repulsive, Mrs
Gamert.
That is, you've behaved exactly as I expected.
Thank you.
Good afternoon, General.
You couldn't like a book, would you?
Not exactly.
I just came to say... a good man has left
us.
I believe you knew
Edmund Brundage quite well, did you not?
I feel it, though, I did. Well, I never crossed words with him at all.
He was in the First Mess, of course.
But not in the Suffolks.
He signed up for the Air Force, I believe.
He wanted to fly.
How odd.
It was also odd that he came to see us that very morning.
He wanted to speak to your wife, I imagine.
Yes, you're quite right.
Violet told me all about it.
He made a great effort to go see her.
To congratulate her on her idea.
I'm referring to the...
Art Centre.
I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to speak to him.
I must say, I would never have imagined him being interested in art.
But well, a good man has left us.
Anyone could suffer an attack like that if you think about it.
You mustn't be late for your
lunch party, General.
Leave my house and don't ever come back.
And please, don't you or your wife ever again malign.
A man who had more dignity, sensitivity and
compassion than either of you will have in your time.
Don't ever say his name again.
And forget mine.
But she... Violet... Leave!
So it seems that I have been evicted by the city of Flintmarket.
As we mentioned during our last phone conversation, it seems there is a new
Parliament Bill.
which allows Flint Market Council to take over ownership of the old house.
Yes.
And I should like to know, if I may, where the council obtained the funds
necessary to throw me out.
They apparently found a benefactor.
What concerns me is if the old house is considered to be habitable or not.
If it turns out that it is unfit for human habitation, or indeed subsidence
is threatened...
Well, then it will be impossible to demand compensation.
You won't see a penny.
I'm inhabiting it, and I'm still human.
It's not even as damp as all that. In the summer, it's really quite dry, and
in midwinter, it's... Here is an inspection of the cellars, according to
which the property is standing in half an inch of water.
Sorry, what... What inspection?
I...
I wasn't informed of any inspection, I don't think.
Apparently, on several occasions, when you were asking from the property, an
expert in masonry and plastering, a Mr John Gipping, was sent by the council to
inspect the condition of the walls and the cellars.
John Gipping?
Christine's father?
We assume he entered peaceably. I don't remember letting him in myself.
Oh, your assistant.
Mr. Milo North?
Everyone would assume he acted as your servant and was following your
instructions.
Have you any comments?
What leaves us in a difficult position?
the fact that Mr North has also signed a statement according to which the level
of dampness in the property has affected his health, making him unable to accept
any type of ordinary employment.
Why?
There is no why.
They asked me persistently, so, you know, I simply thought, let's do it.
Well, if you're looking for a new assistant, I understand Christine is
available. She's no longer working at the new bookshop.
She tried to sell Lolita to the vicar.
Lauren.
For years to come, I will remember how she tried to smile looking at the book I
had in my hands.
Then, she realized what I had done.
She had fulfilled the dream, and they'd snatched it away from her.
But what she possessed, deep down, was something no one could ever take away
from her.
Her courage.
And it was that courage, and her passion for books, that she bequeathed to me.
along with a Chinese lacquered tray.
How right she was when she said that no one ever feels alone in a
bookshop.
Horace.
Go with the flow of the river, but if I shiver,
just take me in your arms.
Show me the steps of the mambo, but if I stumble,
just take me in your arms.
Baby, don't tell me stories of ancient glory.
Just take me in your arms.
There's a whole world to discover, my precious lover.
Just take me in your arms.
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