Original subtitles

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Go forth from this world in the love of God

who created you,

in the mercy of Jesus Christ, who redeemed you,

in the power of the Holy Spirit who strengthens you.

May you dwell this day in peace.

We love you.

You can go now.

-And that's it? -That's it.

That's the dream.

You just say a prayer?

For someone who's dying.

Who?

I don't know.

What do you think it means?

Ah, bugger all, most likely.

When I wake up, I... Well, I, have this feeling.

Of what?

Dread.

Oh, that's normal.

I wake up with dread every single day.

That's not normal, Geordie.

♪ Well, that'll be the day when you say goodbye ♪

♪ Yes, that'll be the day when you make me cry ♪

♪ You say you're gonna leave ♪

Oh, sorry, Vicar.

Uh, welcome to our all-American drive-in.

I'm Betty, your waitress. How can I help y'all?

Flipping hellfire! These things are lethal.

Accent's getting better.

It really does it for me, the accent...

Freddie! Sorry, Vicar.

That'll be ten bob, please, Vicar.

Thank you, Freddie.

♪ Well, that'll be the day hoo-hoo ♪

♪ That'll be the day ♪

It'll be to do with your Ma'am.

-What will? -The dream.

-Uh, Mira. -Mira. Sorry.

-Got a big day coming up. -Nah, it's not that big.

-You must be nervous. -I'm excited.

I am. Now we've met a few times and...

We're getting on really well.

Perfectly, in fact...

I can't wait for her to meet you all.

Alphy Kottaram!

You're a braver man than I.

The most dreadful thing has happened.

He's only gone and died.

Who has?

Bertrand Mills. From the garage.

Bert Mills Motors.

-Bert? -Bertrand Mills.

From the garage.

I have no idea who Bert is...

"We are saddened to announce the passing of Bertrand Mills,

who died today surrounded by family and friends."

His poor wife.

-Such a lovely couple. -I spoke to him yesterday.

He's not dead, Mrs C.

Yes, he is. It says it right here.

-Whaddya know? Bert! -Bert?

Bert, I take it?

Don't believe everything you see, Mrs C.

There he is. The man of the hour.

-Hello, handsome! -Hello, Miriam.

I demand that you kiss me immediately.

Mwah.

I'd demand the same, but I'm not sure my request

would be met with quite the same gusto.

Bravo, Alphy, this is a triumph.

We could be in the Hollywood Hills.

Bar the faint whiff of livestock, hey?

Hey, up, who died?

It's a mistake.

It's quite the mistake.

It's the Echo. They once spelt Cambridge wrong.

I can look into it for you.

Oh, don't bother. It'll be some other chap.

How many other Bertrand Mills do you know?

We're a dime a dozen.

Well, there's only one as far as I'm concerned

and I'm rather keen on him not kicking the bucket.

The offer's there.

Let's not make something of nothing, Inspector.

Where d'you want us to put the car?

Betty? Oh.

Could you show Mr Mills where to park his car, please?

This way y'all.

And I thought my Cadillac was the prettiest thing on wheels.

Bert!

-You are naughty. -Oh, my Lord.

Mrs Mills! Look at that sparkler!

My Freddie better buy me one of them...

Sorry. Sorry, I'm late.

There was a bit of a hoo-haa...

Someone forgot to pay Cece's electric bill.

And then someone forgot to get us reconnected.

And that 'someone' was me.

We gathered.

I have never been in the red in my life.

Yes, you've said that ten times already.

Well, I'm saying it once more for good measure.

Don't think we've met. I'm Geordie.

Oh, very funny.

Like ships in the night, Jack.

-I'm a CeCe's widow. -Bliss, isn't it?

Remind me why we're doing this again?

Because we're sociable.

Since when?

-We are a young. -Debatable...

-Dynamic... -Again...

fabulous couple about town.

And so are they.

This is going to be hell.

What if we don't have anything in common?

We'll have loads in common.

Cinema.

They're fellas who likes fellas.

You like Geordie. You like Alphy.

Not in the same way, I don't think.

Please behave.

Look who brought the picnic blanket!

Please have fun.

-Look who brought scones! -Aw.

Weather's looking promising.

Forecast is... excellent.

Big day Sunday.

Not that big.

Are you nervous?

I wasn't until everyone started asking...

I'm pulling out all the stops.

Got my hands on a lovely leg of lamb.

She'd be serving a fatted calf if she could.

-Sorry. I'll be back in a sec. -'Course.

He's nervous.

It's been a bit quiet at the Halfway House.

But we've got a new chap arriving tomorrow.

It's amazing what you've done with that place.

I admire you so much.

Well, I admire you.

You're wonderful, and I'm not even drunk.

Well, I am drunk.

And I think I love you a little bit.

Nice field.

Very... Rural.

Hello, everyone! Hi!

Our motion picture is about to start.

Lady Godiva Rides Again.

A story of glitz, glamour, intrigue...

and a certain Miss Diana Dors.

Now, I must thank Bert and his garage

for the loan of these wonderful cars,

which will definitely not in any way

get scratched or damaged.

Thank you, Bert.

Oi, trousers! I want a word with you.

Now all funds raised are in aid of Mr Finch's halfway house,

which rehabilitates those who have...

lost their way...

-Are you threatening me? -Bert, please. That's enough.

Ah...

Sorry, talking of losing the way...

Hot dogs! Ooh!

Hot dogs! Yes!

Betty will be round to deliver them safely to you.

Safely-ish.

So sit back, relax and enjoy! Thank you.

What's a hot dog?

You wouldn't like me to do you a little favour would you?

How d'you mean?

Well, Vic gave me a bikini last night,

so I won't be wearing this.

I haven't worn this costume before, that's all.

-Men... -Slave to their loins.

-Hmm? What was that? -Nothing, my dearest.

-What's this? -Hot dog.

With mushrooms and ketchup.

Oh no. No, I don't think so.

It's just a sausage, Sylvia.

It's vulgar.

It's American.

Precisely.

What's wrong with keeping your sausage tucked away

like us British folk do?

I'll let you answer that, Jack.

Hello, handsome.

-Everything alright? -Oh.

That ghastly thing in the paper, it's unnerving, don't you think?

Bert doesn't seem worried.

Bert doesn't do worried.

His emotions run the gamut from stoic to stiff-upper-lipped.

Well, go on then. Off you go.

I'm sure they'll figure it out.

Stop! Bert! Come away.

See? All's well that ends well.

Could I speak to the reception, please?

Go on.

I like board games.

-Board games? -Yeah. Never mind.

Do you play Risk?

Do I play Risk?

Bloody love it.

"The Game of Global Domination."

Daniel likes Risk.

-I love it! -I hate it.

Me too.

With all of my heart.

Oopsie! Silly me. Ketchup everywhere.

What was all that?

Hmm.

Would you get your friend to look into it for me, please?

-The newspaper? -I, uh... Of course, I will.

Miriam, what's going on?

Bert?

Hey... Stop! Stop!

It wasn't me.

It wasn't me.

Bert?

No, Miriam. Don't look, please.

What does that look like to you?

Vampire bites?

What?

Come on.

Chin up, Fred! Keep buggering on.

-Any sign of the weapon? -Tool kit in the boot.

Nah, it'd be smaller than that.

Thinner blade.

Two prongs, maybe...

We'll keep searching, Boss.

I-I can explain.

Hmm, let's hear it then...

Yeah, thought as much.

Look, Bert was drunk.

He wanted me to drive the car home for him.

I didn't know he was in the back.

How did you know Betrand Mills?

He was my boss.

And then he sacked me.

For what?

For tardiness.

"It wasn't me."

Wasn't what?

That's what you said to us, Freddie.

Well, it wasn't. Me, that is.

Not entirely convincing.

Sorry to say.

I don't think it was him.

I know what you're thinking, and no.

It's a crime of passion, if ever I saw one.

It's not his wife.

It's always the wife.

You've watched too many movies.

What kind of murderer announces their plans in the paper?

The kind that kills someone in front of an entire village.

Doesn't make any sense.

But a Vampire bite does, does it?

Cambridgeshire police.

I'm not quite sure who we need to speak to but...

Him.

We want to speak to him.

What were you doing at the film?

Much the same as everyone else, I imagine.

Distracting myself from the mediocre plot

with the lovely Diana Dors and her sensual hair toss.

And getting into an argument with Mr Mills.

That was... unfortunate.

As is this.

Bert placed it.

Bert placed the announcement of his own death?

He'd brought in the wording and paid for it himself.

Oh, that feels a little...

Odd? Well, I thought so.

But ours is not to reason why.

Well, you're a journalist.

That's exactly your reason.

I wrote some opinion pieces about his garage.

Not complimentary, I take it?

Bertrand Mills was a con artist.

I was just exposing him for the miscreant he was.

Here you go.

"Do not buy cars from this man!"

By Mr Gregory Parsons.

To the point, I guess.

Pithy.

-Weapon? -Still looking boss.

We have one working theory.

-It's a sweetcorn fork. -For sweetcorn.

Can do yourself a right mischief on them, I'm telling you.

Did either of you see any sweetcorn last night?

No.

-We'll keep mulling. -You do that.

I thought we'd start the evening with Risk...

And then finish with Monopoly, maybe?

Well, Risk doesn't finish, Jen.

It goes on for days. Sometimes weeks.

God help me, I've opened the gates to hell.

I see your "Do not buy cars from this man",

and I raise you...

That's more than a takedown of a business.

That's a takedown of Bertrand Mills.

I need to get these back to the garage...

Miriam...

I need everything in the right place,

or I will lose what is left of my sanity!

Miriam.

Stop.

Don't have a cigarette, do you?

You don't smoke.

Well, desperate times and all that.

The articles in the Echo...

That stupid bloody paper.

Are they true?

Lies.

Every single word.

It's that low-life journalist.

Gregory Parsons.

Horrid creature.

You think he wrote the announcement of Bert's death?

Don't you?

Why would he do that?

Jealousy.

Bert was an exemplary man.

Exemplary businessman.

Anyone who could vouch for that?

Your husband's business acumen, that is?

Our accountant.

Just a word of warning,

he is rather fond of his own voice.

There are three types of accountant in this world.

Those that can count and those that can't.

Yes, only a fraction of people will find that funny.

And indeed only half of you will actually get it.

I'm guessing not this half.

Sorry. I-I've not had to speak to the police before.

Desperately trying to quell all my copper jokes.

Please do, Mr Switch.

Feel free to call me Switch.

Or Switchy, if you're feeling fruity.

Mr Switch...

you knew Mr Mills well?

Good man.

-Honest? -As the day is long.

I have his paperwork right here.

Scrupulous to a fault.

It's the, uh, envelope you're after, I imagine.

What envelope?

Uh...

Bert said it was only to be opened in dire circumstances.

Like now you mean?

I suppose this is pretty dire. Now you come to mention it.

"My business is being ruined by one man.

"Who knows where he'll stop?"

"If anything happens,"

"know it's the bastard hack who did it."

Mr Pars...

Gentlemen.

If you'd come with us, please, Sir.

On what grounds?

On the grounds you had an argument with Bertrand Mills.

And a fight.

On the grounds, you wrote some very scathing...

-And entirely untrue... -articles...

about a man who is now dead...

In the paper where that death was announced.

So, those quite comprehensive grounds.

Do you have anything to say for yourself?

I did it.

You... did it?

That is correct.

You killed Bertrand Mills?

Consider this my full and frank confession.

Shall we?

One for the cells, Larry.

What's the charge?

Murder of Bertrand Mills.

-Really? -I confessed.

Fully and frankly.

Right... Only...

What?

He's not the only one.

He's not the only one what?

To confess to the murder of Bertrand Mills.

Say what you just said to me, Freddie.

I killed Bertrand Mills.

Told you.

Sorry, so when you said that you didn't do it...

That was a little bit of a fib, to be honest with you.

So now you're telling us...

I did it.

-You did it? -Yup.

I killed Bertrand Mills.

May you dwell this day in peace.

We love you.

You can go now.

Alphy? What are you doing here?

I couldn't sleep.

Hmm.

-It's a big day today. -Had the dream again.

Of course you did. D'you want to know why?

Not really.

But I have a feeling you're going to tell me.

'Cause you haven't asked your ma'am.

-Uh, Mira... -Mira, sorry, the big questions.

Who your dad is...

Why she left you...

You know what, things are good right now.

-They're... -Perfect?

I don't want to ruin it.

I just think until you ask her, you'll keep having that dream.

Perfect is the enemy of progress, Alphy.

You're pretty clever sometimes, you know that?

I won't let it go to my head.

Post mortem came back.

Jugular severed, as expected.

Eight puncture wounds as expected.

Hmm, anything unexpected?

No bruising to his stomach.

We saw him get punched.

We thought we saw him get punched.

Well, he was up behind the screen with Gregory.

Unless it wasn't him up behind the screen.

Unless Berts was already dead.

Well, I've never met this man before in my life.

I've never even said two words to him.

Had a punch-up though, right?

-No. -Yes.

-Shut your fat mouth! -Freddie stand up.

Lift the front of your shirts up, please.

Ouch.

Did this man punch you?

-No. -Yes.

Do you want to confer amongst yourselves or...

He set about me. Out of the blue.

You pinched my Betty's bum.

-WHO'S BETTY? -A DIRTY OLD MAN.

You know he was having it away with her.

-With Betty? -No, not with Betty.

-I don't even know who Betty is! -With Miriam.

With Miriam?

I saw 'em together at the garage getting all frisky.

You and Miriam? Is that true?

Truth is a tricky concept.

You're a journalist...

He didn't deserve her.

So you dally with his wife and discredit his business

for good measure.

But I did not pinch anyone's hind quadrant.

-Oh that's something, I suppose. -Which one of you killed Bert?

-I did... -Me.

Excuse me. I'm trying to confess...

I've already confessed!

Enough! How'd you do it?

If you killed him, what weapon did you use?

This is a first. Two confessions.

I'm not entirely sure I believe either of them...

Bert did go into the Echo, you know.

Witness saw him.

Why announce his own bloody death?

Now you're nervous.

-Well, big day. -Oh, I dunno. It's not that big.

So, your mother's first visit.

She'll be so proud.

-Do you think? -Look at you.

How could she not be?

-Morning. -Morning.

-Morning. -Morning, Vicar.

Is she here yet?

Uh, not yet.

So exciting!

Best behaviour, I promise.

Hello, handsome.

Miriam.

Some thoughts.

For Bert's eulogy.

When the time comes.

Thank you.

You know, I take it? About Gregory and me?

Yes.

Got myself in a terrible pickle, haven't I?

It happens to the best of us.

Sometimes life throws a little temptation in your path.

A... castle in the air.

It's not always easy to resist.

Did Bert know?

I expect so.

We both had our dalliances.

It kept things interesting.

Not that we ever spoke of it.

Why is it so hard to speak the truth?

♪ All Things Bright and Beautiful ♪

♪ All creatures great and small ♪

♪ All things wise and wonderful ♪

♪ The Lord God made them all ♪

I was going to talk today about reunions but...

But I'm thinking perhaps we'll turn to the teachings

of Proverbs...

When...

Sorry!

Whenever I need guidance,

Proverbs always seems to have the answers.

Sometimes you have to wait a little longer for them, but...

they'll always appear...

when the moment is right.

-Mira. -Alphy.

I didn't know what to bring, so...

Oh! Silly, really.

No, no, no. They're lovely.

Thank you.

Look at you.

Yeah. Well, what do you think?

Mmm. Give me a twirl.

So handsome.

I could listen to you talk for hours.

Oh, I'm not sure

everyone here would agree with you.

Well, I think you're wonderful.

Uh...

Come and meet my friends.

Oh, okay.

Everyone, this is Mira.

Uh, Mira, this is everyone.

Hello, Mira.

Hello. My! There are a lot of you.

Such a beautiful name "Mira".

Oh, thank you.

Er, this is Jack and Mrs C.

Such a lovely name.

So exotic.

-This is Leonard. -I can see it.

I think.

I can see the resemblance.

And... and this is my friend Daniel.

I see it, too. It's the cheekbones.

Mmm. And finally, Cathy and George.

Everyone calls me Geordie.

Even me.

Oh!

I'm so sorry. I've already forgotten everyone's names.

Oh, not to worry. Plenty of time for that.

And how do you all know each other?

I'm a policeman.

A policeman friend.

I used to be in the church... until I wasn't.

It's a long story.

I'm just a hanger on.

I lived out in India for a while

at the time of the Raj.

Erm, I expect you're too young to remember.

Look at the pair of you.

Look at them.

Oh, dear. She's going to cry.

I just find it terribly moving.

Mother and son... together at last.

Ooh!

-Here we are. -Marvellous.

Perhaps Mira would like to say grace.

Oh.

Erm...

For what we are about to receive...

may the Lord make us truly thankful.

-Amen. -Amen.

So, Mira, where have you been all this time?

Sylvia!

Well, I mean, as in, where have you been living?

A little village in Essex.

How lovely.

Lovely might be stretching it, but it does quite well for me.

"Where have you been all this time"!

I didn't mean it like that.

-We're working on her manners. -I don't mind.

When have my manners been anything other than impeccable?

At CeCe's... when I'm trying to do the accounts.

"Trying" being the operative word.

-Uh, lamb, Mira? -Oh. No, no. No, thank you.

-Not for me. -Oh, you don't like it?

Oh, no, no. It's just... I don't eat meat.

You don't eat meat?

Religious reasons.

I'm so sorry, Mira, I didn't think...

No, it's... it's fine, honestly.

-I can get you something else. -No, I'm very happy

with... these beautiful potatoes.

All right.

How did you like the church, Mira?

-Oh, it's stunning. -Isn't it?

It's one of my favourite places in the whole world.

And what about our Alphy here?

Wasn't he marvellous up there?

How does he remember all those words?

I don't know where he keeps them all.

Well...

-Do you live alone, Mira? -I do, yes.

No family?

No, no family.

Oh, what a shame!

It might not be a shame.

She might like to live on her own.

Do you like to live on your own?

Uh, I... enjoy my own company,

and I have a very grumpy cat. So...

What is it you do, Mira?

Erm, I work in a school.

A teacher, of course.

I knew you got that cleverness from somewhere.

Not a teacher.

I'm just...

I'm in the office. Secretary.

Uh, so not interesting, honestly.

What about his father? What did he do?

Mrs C!

Sorry, uh... Do you mind, I...

-No, no, of course not. -Excuse me.

I just need some air.

I didn't mean to pry.

It's fine. Don't worry. It's, erm...

Well, it's all going really well, don't you think?

Poor boy.

She's gonna break his heart.

They can be a bit much sometimes.

No, no.

I like them very much.

I'm... I'm glad you have such nice friends.

They're more like family, really.

I... I used to try and imagine where you might be,

what you might be doing with your life.

-Not this? -God, no.

I'm so sorry.

I'm blaspheming now. Don't worry, I've...

I've heard a lot worse.

Are you happy here?

Very.

That's all I ever wanted.

I wasn't at first, but...

God brought me here for a reason.

It was His will that brought me here.

Does that sound crazy?

No.

A little, yes.

It's... it's not what I'm used to, I suppose.

Saying grace, singing hymns.

It's...

-also very... -British?

White.

This bloody thing.

Oh!

You didn't have to dress up for me.

Of course I did.

I wanted everything to be...

Perfect?

Silly fools, aren't we, the pair of us?

£2 a pop for a skirt is a decent amount.

Not per inch of fabric, it's not.

The hemline is nothing short of demonic.

Just inch time for spotted dick.

Mm.

Spotted dick.

And an uncomfortable spat about the account.

So, how's it going?

Well, there's so much I want to say and...

And you're worried it's all going to fall apart.

But here's the thing. What if it doesn't?

What if everything that's unsaid

is brought to the light?

And in that light, something beautiful grows.

-Are you drunk? -A little bit, yeah.

Knees are not meant to be seen.

Cathy Keating, knees are impolite.

Well, how's this for impolite?

Ooh!

And I'm gonna have to be a whole lot drunker

to get through this.

Geordie...

Well, bugger me.

What does that look like to you?

Vampire bite.

Miriam's notes for Bert's eulogy.

They got married on the 14th of June...

1923.

The notice in the paper

was dated the 14th of June?

It was their wedding anniversary.

Forty years to the day.

The very day he pops his clogs.

Forty years of marriage.

It's quite a feat.

Were you happy?

We were most of the time.

I doubt any married couple could say more than that.

1923.

You marry Bertrand Mills.

Thirty nine years and 364 days later,

Bert placed an advert in the Cambridge Echo.

This is for tomorrow's edition.

Sorry, can I stop you there?

Why on earth would Bert announce

his own death in the paper?

He didn't.

Well, at least he didn't know he was.

He thought he was announcing his love for you.

"Happy 40th anniversary, darling."

Something of that ilk.

But you swapped the notice, didn't you?

You're so jealous of Bert's proclamations of love.

You replaced them with a death threat.

I never had any intention of harming him.

I never thought Miriam did either.

But you confessed.

I was covering for her.

But I didn't hurt him.

I'm a writer.

Writers don't do things.

-It was all just... -A fantasy.

I wouldn't go that far.

Miriam loved me.

Did you love Gregory?

Oh God, no.

It was just sex.

When you've been married for four decades,

sometimes you need to create a little fantasy.

Bert had affairs, too, you said?

Oh, countless, I'm sure.

But we had rules.

No names and no breakfasts.

Gives you quite the motive.

Philandering, husband.

We loved each other.

I wouldn't expect you to understand.

Huh.

Did Bert give you this?

Ruby. For our 40th year.

You were never going to leave him, were you?

Of course not.

And he was never going to leave you.

If you could remove your hairpin, please, Mrs Mills.

My hairpin?

We've got officers at your house now

searching the place.

But I suspect you've kept the weapon close.

Let me make this as explicit as I possibly can.

I loved my husband.

I did not kill him with a hairpin.

I know.

-Really? -Really?

So who did it?

That was going to be my next question.

It was a fantasy.

All of it, their entire relationship.

He bought into it hook, line and sinker.

He'd do anything for her.

-Gregory? -Freddie.

Freddie?

Freddie. Christ on a bike. Of course.

Gregory confessed because he thought

he was protecting Miriam.

And Freddie confessed because he thought

-he was protecting... -Not Miriam.

Not Miriam, no.

He was protecting Betty.

Betty told me she'd spilled ketchup.

That's not ketchup.

If she makes a run for it, we won't stand a chance.

She won't run.

-Betty! -Don't worry.

She won't get far.

Whoa!

I didn't do it.

Yeah.

It's a tale as old as time, Betty.

Jealousy?

Who's supposed to be jealous of who?

Whom.

Whom is jealous of whom, then?

You are, of Miriam.

That old trout?

-Nothing to be jealous of. -Apart from her husband.

You were having an affair...

with Bert...

No.

-Shut up. -Mr and Mrs Mills

were nothing if not generous with their affection.

What did you think, Betty? That he'd leave his wife?

You'd lived happily ever after?

Then you saw the ring.

You are naughty.

I love my Freddie.

Well, he loved you, that's for sure.

He'd do anything for you.

Oi, Fred.

That fella just pinched my bum.

No one touches my girl.

Miriam thought it was Bert up there fighting.

Bert, come away.

So why would we assume any different?

You were creating a distraction.

While Freddie fought with Gregory,

you went and found Bert.

-There she is. -You said you loved me.

I do. Of course I do.

You said you'd leave her.

She's my wife, you silly girl.

Now, let's have a look, see what's under

this little uniform of yours.

Please, please, you have to help me.

Then you told Freddie you'd done a terrible thing.

Then you left him to take the blame.

Oopsy. Silly me.

How did I get Freddie to do everything that I asked of him?

You were his dream girl, his fantasy.

You make him sound like an idiot.

He is.

Slave to his loins.

In his eyes, you were perfect.

He was so blinded by you, he couldn't face the truth.

Which is what?

Hmm?

That I'm like old blondie in that film?

Which was rubbish, by the way.

Wiggle her bum, bat her eyelashes.

Fellas fall at her feet.

You think you're special, Betty?

I've been in this job longer than I care to mention.

You're not special.

You're ten a penny.

Bert was never going to leave his wife.

It was make believe.

Ruined your life because you were too scared

to face up to the truth.

Life is one big risk.

With every risk you take, good things can happen.

I think it's just not...

It's not that far, is it?

Ladies.

Your new accountant.

How do you do?

Doors can open.

Thank you. Thank you for letting me know.

The gentleman I was expecting at the halfway house.

He left prison, got on the bus,

robbed the driver.

He's back inside.

That's good.

Not for him, obviously.

Nice for you to have a bit of free time for once.

But if you take no risks,

you get nowhere.

You're stuck.

You're lost.

Not going forward. Not going back.

To live, you have to be foolhardy.

You have to be bold.

The game is a metaphor, you see...

for life.

I really wish I hadn't given up drinking.

Mira, you waited.

Thank you for a wonderful lunch.

Shame it was entirely potatoes.

Oh, I loved it. I did.

We'll do it again soon, shall we?

Maybe we can go for a walk along the river next time?

Why didn't you want me?

I was 15, the boy was 16.

What was his name?

It's not important.

It is.

It is to me.

Jai.

I never knew his last name.

Did you love him?

We were kids, Alphy.

We didn't know what love was.

Do you know where he is now?

No.

So there's...

there's no way I could find him?

When he...

found out about you...

I never saw him again.

Did you tell anyone else

-you were having me? -No.

Why not?

Shame.

I was ashamed.

My mother knew, I think. She didn't say as much, but...

the look on her face, the disgust...

And when the time came, it was night.

I was alone in my room.

I... I couldn't scream.

I... I couldn't cry out

for fear my parents might hear me.

It was the loneliest moment of my life.

I tucked you in a blanket.

I...

I wrote you a letter.

I don't suppose you got it.

"Even though we will no longer be together..."

"I will think of you"

"every day until I die."

And I did.

I do.

Every day.

Thinking of someone...

is not the same as being there, Mira.

Why the foundling home?

Why there?

They were Christians.

No one knew me there, no one from my community.

You didn't want to be found.

I...

I hoped an Indian family might adopt you.

That...

you would find a place where you belonged.

I have.

I belong here.

I thought...

I thought this was what you wanted for me.

I... I thought where you left me,

it had some kind of...

some kind of meaning to it.

It was the closest doorstep on a cold night.

There was no more meaning than that?

I'm so sorry.