All language subtitles for my.policeman.(2022).en

The sweet, sweet memories
you've given me

You can't beat
the memories you've given me

Take one fresh and tender kiss

You can't beat the memories
you've given me...

Add one stolen night of bliss

You can't beat the memories
you've given me...

One girl, one boy

Some grief, some joy

Memories are made of this

You can't beat the memories
you've given me...

Then add the wedding bells

One house where lovers dwell

Three little kids for the flavor

Stir carefully through the days

See how the flavor stays

These are the dreams you will savor

With his blessings from above

You can't beat the memories
you've given me...

Serve it generously with love

You can't beat the memories
you've given me...

One man, one wife

- One love through life
- Shall I?

- Best if you let us do it.
- Right.

Memories are made of this.

There you go, Mr. Hazelwood.

You've landed in quite
a lovely spot, haven't you?

And with a view of the sea.

- Are you a nurse?
- Oh.

Teacher.

I mean, I was. I'm...

I'm retired.

Pamela will be here every day
to bathe and exercise him.

I'll be around twice a week
to check his observations

and adjust his medication.

But you'll have charge of his meals

and anything else that comes up
while we're not here.

- I understand.
- And he can feed himself,

though he sometimes makes a mess of it.

And you have to watch for him choking.

- That's from the dysphagia...
- Difficulty in swallowing.

I'm to cut his food
into small pieces or puree it

and make sure he drinks
a sufficient amount of water.

I've been reading up about it.

Well, you deserve a gold star, don't you?

This is Mr. Hazelwood's personal items.

They came to the hospital
after he sold the house.

Is there anything else I should know?

Oh. No cigarettes.

He will try and get one out of you.

Oh, we don't keep them in the house.

Run, Bobby! Bobby!

What's this about?

I thought he was staying
in the spare room.

He's not a prisoner.

This is my home.

Isn't it?

For God's sake, Marion,
I can only stand so much.

There are places for invalids.

Have you been inside any of those places?

- Besides, you agreed.
- Well...

You wouldn't give me any rest until I did.

Seemed the right thing to do.

Don't fool yourself.

You know why you brought him here.

Why?

To punish him.

That's ridiculous.

You waiting on him hand and foot,
that's ridiculous.

Here is an interesting bit

in the Arts section.

A young woman has been short-listed

for the Turner Prize

with a piece called My Bed.

That's exactly what it is.

Unmade no less.

Apparently, everyone's talking about it.

I'd like to see it.

You were the one
who taught me to look at art.

Do you remember?

Ohk.

I don't...

Ohk.

I can't understand.

Sm.

Ohk.

You want to smoke.

Nigel says you can't.

You've had a stroke.

It could cause you to have another.

- Eeev.
- Patrick.

I absolutely cannot allow you...

Eeev!

Leave?

Fine.

Bastard.

Magic mirror

On the wall

Is she the fairest

Of them all?

Tell me, tell me, magic mirror

On the wall...

You said you'd ask.

- It was your idea.
- He's your brother.

I wouldn't get my hopes up for Tom.

I'm not.

He likes, you know, loud, busty types.

What do you think, ladies?
Are we getting wet today?

Marion can't swim.

I can.

I'm just, I'm just not very good.

She wants to ask for a lesson,
Tom, but she's too shy to ask!

Sylvie!

Well, how about I give you a lesson?

- No, no, no, no!
- Come on!

They're a couple of cards, aren't they?

Yes.

Almost didn't recognize you.

Been a while since
you came around to the house.

I've been at teacher training college.

Yeah, Sylvie said.

And you were stationed...?

Up north.

Yeah, glad to have that behind me.

I'm a policeman now.

I heard.

Must be quite fulfilling.

Well, you can't go through life
afraid of the water.

It's too cold.

You can start in the lido if you like.

All right.

Well, honey drop

So sweet, so fine

Won't you say

That you'll be mine...

It's cold.

My heart romancin'...

Right. When I tell you...

you need to throw your legs behind you.

Arms out.

And then kick.

Go.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

To have and hold

Honey drop, honey drop...

Good.

Oh, honey drop

So sweet, so fair...

That's it. You got it.

You really care...

Thanks for the lessons.

You did quite well.

You should stick with it.

I suppose I'll head home.

- I was thinking.
- Yes?

You being a teacher,
you must be a bit of a bookworm.

Well, I don't know how to take that.

But I suppose it's true.

Sorry, no, I didn't mean...

You see, I'm not much of a reader.

Oh?

But I think a man ought to try
to improve himself.

I agree with you there.

Do you think you could
recommend some books to me?

In exchange,

I could give you more swimming lessons.

Yes, I'd be happy to recommend books.

Smashing.

What about art?

You mean books about art?

I never really looked at art before.

Now I think I could
get something out of it.

Well, that's a start.

Did you have
any particular artist in mind?

Mm.

Is there a painter named Turner?

That would be J.M.W. Turner. Yes.

Baby

Don't you need a man like me...

You're doing really well.

- One more?
- One more.

Don't you need a man like me?

We could be so happy together

Try to raise a family

Yes, baby...

That cat, please.

There you are, sir.

I'm gonna come back
to see you, baby...

Winner!

Thank you. Thank you.

Hey, no. No, no, no, no.

Not today, boy. Not today. Hey, no.

Hey. Good boy. Good boy.

Oh. Ahoy.

What the devil do you think you're doing?

Give me that.

Patrick. Stop.

Ow!

You could start a fire.

Where's Tom?

- What?
- Where's Tom?

Where's Tom?

Oh, he's...

He's walking Bobby.

- No.
- Well, he's swimming.

- No!
- He doesn't want to see you.

He...

He won't even come near your room.

Well, I don't think he'll ever forgive me
for bringing you here.

Bloody mess.

The museum?

I'm sure you've been here before.

Well, yes.

But have you ever had a personal tour

from the director
of the Western Art Galleries?

No.

- How did you...
- He was a witness

to an accident on my watch.

Nothing serious, but we got talking,

and he invited me for a private tour.

And I thought, "Marion would enjoy
that sort of thing more than me."

Notice the light...

striking the crest of the crashing waves.

You feel they could crush you
or take you under.

Blake's trying to startle the senses
as well as the spirit.

There's so much passion in his work.

You just...

have to let it take hold of you.

Now, this is one of my favorite paintings.

Raising of Lazarus by Jan Lievens.

He was a contemporary of Rembrandt.

Astonishing.

Exactly.

Thanks ever so much.

It's been splendid.

Oh, I don't know if you're free Friday,
but I have tickets to a recital.

Why don't the two of you join me?

Never been to a recital.

But it's up to Marion.

Um, of course.

Well, I'll see you then. 7:00.

Thank you.

So kind of him to invite us.

I'll be sorry to miss
our library visit, though.

Don't you want to go? I could tell him.

No. No. It would hurt his feelings.

He can't have many friends
his own age if he's invited us.

I think he's taken with you, that's all.

Don't be silly.

I love this wine!

It reminds me of Rome.

Have you traveled a great deal?

Well, the museum sends me to Italy
now and then to collect new pieces,

and I always try to take
a few days for myself

and have an adventure.

How about you?

I've never had the opportunity.
I don't know when I will.

Oh, but you must dream, Marion.

Nothing happens
unless you dream of it first.

Dream, Marion. Go on.

I suppose it would have to be Venice.

Ah, you're a romantic.

Um, I don't know.

I imagine Venice to be like
something out of another world.

That it is.

Personally, I'd love to see Mother Russia.

It's the setting of my favorite novel,
Anna Karenina.

I haven't read it.

Oh, you must!

It's literature's most tragic love story.

And the most true, because all
love stories are tragic, aren't they?

I hope not.

Let's have a toast.

- To Marion.
- No.

To all of us.

- To all of us.
- To all of us.

- All of us.
- Cheers. Cheers!

I'm gonna get lit up
when the lights go up in London

I'm gonna get lit up

Like I've never been before

You will find me on the tiles,
you will find me wreathed in smiles

I'm gonna get so lit up,
I'll be visible for miles

The city will sit up
when the lights go up in London

We'll all be lit up as the Strand was

Only more, much more

And before the party's played out

They will fetch the fire brigade out

To the lit-est up-est scene
you ever saw.

Pamela can't make it.

I'm giving you your bath.

She doesn't come again before Friday.

You need a bath.

Believe me,

I'm not any happier about it than you are.

You'll get one of these after,
if you behave.

Rather beautiful dome shape above,

which is very typical
of Indian architecture.

Peaceful, isn't it?

It was built to commemorate
the many brave Indian soldiers

during the Great War.

It's made entirely of Italian marble.

Shipped over from Sicily.

Do you mind if I join you?

We went to the opera.

Verdi.

It was beautiful.

And you were Patrick's guests again?

Well, he heard that
I'd always dreamed of going,

so he insisted.

What?

How long have you and Tom
known each other?

Since the summer.

Hmm.

And has he made advances?

Tom's a gentleman.

What are you getting at?

Well, it's just...

The three of you
spending so much time together.

Tom's not jealous?

Why should he be?

Well, you and this Patrick seem
better suited to each other.

So many similar interests.

Are you sure it's Tom you want to be with?

Well, I must admit, Patrick is dashing.

- But...
- But?

With Tom, I don't care about

education or grammar or manners.

When he burps when he drinks his beer

or falls asleep
at the opera, which he did.

And it annoyed Patrick to no end.

With all of that,

he's just perfect.

He's Tom.

Does that answer your question?

Well, I think you're saying
you're in love.

And Tom?

Well, you'll be happy to hear

that we are seeing each other
this weekend.

Just the two of us.

Your idea?

His.

Do you want another?

I've barely touched this one.

Right.

How's Sylvie?

Same.

Are you all right?

Let's go. We can't talk in here.

Now get out! Get out!

What the hell is wrong with you?

What?

Why can't we have a drink
like a normal couple?

Or dance?

I want to take you somewhere.

All right?

Can I get you a drink?

What would you like?

Whiskey?

Cognac?

Brandy?

Is this Patrick's flat?

Yeah.

He's in London.

Gave me a set of keys
so I can use it when he's away.

You said you wanted...?

Whiskey, please.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Is this you?

It's good, isn't it?

Patrick says ordinary people
have the best faces.

Did you pose for this?

That's how Patrick and I met.

I told you.

No, you said it was reporting an accident.

I haven't finished the tour. Come on.

I wanted it to be nice for you.

This is nice.

I wanted to tell you...

ask you a question, really.

Something that's hard to say.

Just try.

I want you to be my wife.

I'm not good at this sort of thing.

I wasn't sure you even...

I never tried anything before
because I think I was afraid.

Of me?

Of growing up.

When a man gets married, it's a big step.

And you seemed so taken with Patrick, I...

No, that's not true, Tom.
That's not true at all.

I just...

I didn't think you were
interested in me. That's all.

We're just two confused people, aren't we?

Looks that way.

Will you think about it?

Very lucky.

I'm on a roll.

It's time for his pills.

He spoke today.

Do you want to know what he said?

Not particularly.

"Where's Tom?"

That's what he asked.

Christ Almighty, Marion.

What do you want from me?

All the time he's been here,
you haven't been to see him once.

And I don't plan to.

If he upsets you so much,
you should just send him away.

- You don't mean that.
- I do.

I said it from the beginning.

We owe him something after what happened.

Just leave it alone.
We settled it a long time ago.

No. We didn't.

We didn't settle it.

We just stopped talking about it.

I don't want to hear another word.

Are we playing or not?

How did this happen?!

Bloody hell.

I was supposed to be married with
all the good things that come with that.

Now look at me.

There's no passion.

Everything was fine
until you brought him here.

Things haven't been fine
for quite a while,

and if we don't try
to fix it or at least...

Where are you going?

- The pub for some peace.
- And what do I do, Tom?

How do I find some peace?

- Send him away.
- No!

You want him gone, you do it.

29th of July, 1957.

- Yes?
- There's been an accident.

An old lady on her bicycle.
Could you come quickly, please?

Finding a policeman

was not something I ever thought
I would have to do.

What the devil?

She didn't want to wait for you.

Says she hates bloody coppers.

Not the first time I've heard that.

Not much of an accident, was it?

I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you.

Oh, no bother at all, sir.

You did the right thing.

Besides, you never know
how these things will turn out.

Thank you. Mister...?

Hazelwood.

Officer Burgess.

Let me give you my card.

I've never had much patience

with our boys in blue.

I've always despised
their brutish little ways.

The evaluating glance up and down.

The distaste they cannot hide.

But this boy is different.

His eyes lit up when he saw my card.

You work at the museum?

Said he'd never been
to Brighton's most noble institution,

even on a school trip.

I had the measles.

Oh, dear.

I invited him
to visit the museum as my guest.

You're welcome.

He seemed interested.

I haven't been able
to stop thinking about him.

He's handsome, yes.

But there's something else.

Innocence combined with a curiosity.

I'd like to draw him,
but I wonder if he'd misunderstand.

I'd almost forgotten that
some people are still innocent.

Mr. Hazelwood.

An officer's here asking for you.

Tell him he'll have to wait.

He's rather handsome for a copper.

There he was.

I recognized him even from behind.

That fine head.

The unmistakable line of his shoulder.

Now, that's a good painting.

In fact, it's a masterpiece.

See? I must have
some taste for art after all.

Taste is simply just knowing
how something makes you feel.

So how does it make you feel?

You can sense the waves.

You know, how strong they are.

Like swimming in rough surf.

Exciting.

And frightening.

Right.

Don't tell the boys down the station
I'm afraid of a painting.

You know, I'm an amateur artist.

You paint?

Pencil drawings mostly.

Studies of ordinary Brighton people,

a tram conductor, a barman,
that sort of thing.

You'd make a perfect subject.

Me?

Never been asked to model before.

Oh, there's nothing to it.

But I wouldn't mind
learning more about paintings.

Art, I mean.

Well, that's admirable.

Is it? Why?

Because a man should always
try to improve himself.

I made it.

Evening, Patrick.

Rudy.

This is Tom, my cousin.

How do you do?

Fine, thank you.

Cousin?

I assumed you didn't want me to say that

you're a police officer coming
to have your portrait drawn.

Nothing wrong with that, is there?

- Nice place.
- Thank you.

I brought my uniform,

in case you want me in it
for the portrait.

Yes, yes. That will do nicely.

Well, then, why don't, uh... you change.

Do you like being a policeman?

- Yeah, I think so.
- Try to keep the pose.

Oh. Sorry.

I think so.

What do you like about it?

Is this part of the procedure?

I can't draw you
if I don't know who you are.

Right.

Um...

I like knowing I'm doing
something for the public.

You know, protecting people.

If that's your ambition,
I give you more credit

than most of your colleagues.

How so?

You seem more...

open-minded than
the police I've run across.

- Do I?
- Oh, yes.

I tend to keep my distance
from the police in general.

There's no reason to fear a police officer
if you stay on the right side of the law.

Of course. I...

It's the criminal element
that causes the trouble.

We just have to deal with it.

I don't know if this is a good...

I haven't offered you a drink.
Would you like something?

Um...

Please, beer if you've got it.

Don't have any beer. Uh...

How about something stronger?

I'm going to have a Scotch.

How about you, Officer Burgess?

Scotch. Thank you.

And it's Tom.

Tom.

Oi! Stop where you are,
you bloody hooligan.

What? What? Am I that ridiculous?

I'm sorry, but "hooligan"?

All right.

I'm no, I'm no bobby. Mm.

Well, this looks better
on you anyway.

- And the material's coarse.
- Yeah, like me.

No, not at all like you.

Do I make a good subject, then?

Despite your nervousness...

yes, yes.

Well, the Scotch helped.

Don't know if I needed
three of them, though.

You must think I'm a drunkard.

Oh, why shouldn't a police officer
enjoy himself when he's off duty?

Absolutely right.

Are you really

going to hang my portrait in the museum?

Well...

someday...

I hope to mount a show.

Imagine.

My face in a museum.

Really think it'll be good enough?

I think it will be...

lovely.

Sorry.

There's no need to be.

I don't know what's happening.

- Patrick, I'm not...
- Don't say anything.

Maybe we shouldn't.

All right?

Tom?

Will you check the door,
make sure there's nobody there?

There's no one there.

How do you do it?

Do what?

Live this life.

One learns to live as one can.

I can't.

It's hell being alone.

I don't know whether I'll ever
see my policeman again.

These are wretched times we live in.

When one has to scurry underground
like a criminal...

...just to drown one's sorrows.

Thankfully, that's why places
like the Argyle exist.

Hello, Patrick.

How are we this evening?

Oh, tolerable, Miss Brown.

Oh, like myself.

Scotch as usual?

What are you having?

A dry martini.

Dry martinis, please.

For each of us.

Oi!

Stop right there!

Stop there!

Fucking queers.

How disgusting.

Get up.

You're under arrest.

I don't know why...

You still want to draw me?

If you like.

If I like?

I thought that's what you wanted.

To draw my portrait, an ordinary person.

That's not what you wanted, is it?

You're drunk.

You got me here under false pretenses.

You knew what you wanted the whole time!

That's why you asked me here, isn't it?!

- Answer me!
- Hit me! Hit me! Go on.

You shouldn't have dragged me into it.

You touched me first.

I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong.

Did it feel wrong?

Please...

don't.

Did you ever think about getting married?

I had a lover.

Michael.

And we were together five years.

What happened?

A gang of thugs beat him to death.

Bloody hell.

How do you stand being alone?

I'm not alone, am I?

We have to be careful.

After one whole quart of brandy

Like a daisy, I'm awake

With no Bromo-Seltzer handy

I don't even shake

Men are not a new sensation

I've done pretty well, I think

But this half-pint imitation

Put me on the blink

I'm wild again

Beguiled again

A simpering, whimpering child again

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered

Am I

Couldn't sleep

And wouldn't sleep

When love came and told me

I shouldn't sleep

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered

Am I

Lost my heart

But what of it?

He is cold

I agree

He can laugh, but I love it

Although the laugh's on me...

What? There's... no one for miles.

You can afford to break the rules.

I can't.

For a policeman, that's very romantic.

I better tell you.

I'm planning on getting married.

I see.

- A man ought to be married.
- Well, not all men.

The other day, I was called in
to see the sergeant.

He told me I was doing well.

And then he said, "I should warn you,

some bachelors have found it hard
to rise through this division."

Do you think that's fair?

To the girl, I mean.

- What?
- Well, marrying her for...

well, I call it for protection.

That's not the only reason.

I'm fond of her.

And someday I hope to have children.

No.

Are you saying goodbye to me?

No. I don't...

Do you want me to stop?

No.

Then what shall we do?

Can you share me?

If that's what it takes.

Bobby.

Here you go, boy.

Good boy.

It was a sweet ceremony.

- Just perfect.
- Really?

And the two of you are
the handsomest couple I've ever seen.

Patrick bought Tom that suit.

I don't think we'll ever
see him in it again.

He thinks he looks silly.

- I couldn't be happier for you.
- Thank you.

Oh.

Apparently, I've been drafted
to make a toast.

So where's our lovely bride?

Now, here is to Tom and Marion,

the perfect civilized couple.

Mr. and Mrs. Burgess.

Mr. and Mrs. Burgess!

Uh, Tom, I think
you're meant to kiss the bride.

You look nice.

Thank you.

Should we turn the light out?

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

Was it all right?

Yes, Tom.

I'll be better next time.

It was lovely.

I've got a present for you.

What?

Oh, my God! Tom!

- Oh.
- Oh.

You should've seen your face.

Hello.

Here I am, just as promised.

Tom, help me with all of this, would you?

Patrick?

I promised to cook you
a fabulous wedding feast.

Didn't Tom tell you?

No.

I'm sure I did.

Just for tonight.

Then I'll be out of your hair.

You look so happy, my dear.

I am.

Patrick's a terrific cook, isn't he?

I'm quite impressed.

- Beef bourguignon.
- I'll give you the recipe.

You can have it waiting on the table
for Tom when he gets home

from a hard day of putting
the cuffs on criminals.

I'll drink to that.

I don't think I'll ever manage
anything as fancy.

Rubbish. You're a good cook.

And with Patrick's help,

you'll become a gourmet, I'm sure of it.

Yes, but between lesson plans
and staff meetings,

I'll barely be home before you get there.

I don't like the sound of that.

You plan to keep teaching, then?

I hope to.

Oh, good for you.

If you enjoy your career,
why should you give it up?

I'll tell you why.

A mother ought to be at home
with her children.

Tom, it's 1958.

Educated women like Marion have careers.

I'm surprised you're being
so suburban about it.

What would you know about it?

You know nothing about
children or being a parent

or being married, so stop telling me
what I'm supposed to think about it!

Stop being such a...

Sorry.

Well, I've really gone
and blown it, haven't I?

Oh, we, um, we ganged up on him.

I was on your side.

Tom and I are married now.

We have to sort
these things out on our own.

Sorry.

I had too much to drink.

I don't know what happened.

It's all right.

- Listen, perhaps I should go.
- You're probably right.

You have your things?

In the car.

Thanks again for everything.

You're welcome.

Give my love to Marion.

Will do.

Patrick's off.

He said to say goodbye.

Do you know what I think, Mrs. Burgess?

I'm going to make you breakfast
for a change.

Would you like that?

Marion?

What's wrong?

I know the place is a mess,
but I'll clean it up.

You won't have to do a thing.

I want to go upstairs with you.

All right.

It's beautiful.

Don't you think?

Patrick.

You haven't been eating.

I'm worried.

Is there something I can do for you?

Would you rather be in a home?

They're awful,
but if you're unhappy here.

Do you want to go back?

Thank you.

All right.

25th of May, 1958.

Now they're married,
I can feel him slipping away.

Tom.

Don't ruin it.

How would I do that?

Asking about next time.

Do you know how long it's been
since we saw each other last?

How many days?

I better go.

Please, please, just...
just a few more minutes.

Marion expects me home after my shift.

One more minute.

She wants to have a baby.

You'll make a wonderful father.

I have something for you.

A present.

Guide to Venice.

I'm going next month on museum business.

Why don't you come with me?

To Venice?

Just you and I.

No checking the time and rushing off.

No hiding.

No lies.

- Wouldn't you enjoy that?
- Patrick, I'm married.

Yeah, but even a married man has
the right to travel, doesn't he?

I mean, some men go on fishing trips
with their friends.

Yeah, a man ought to take his wife
on a holiday

before he goes off with a mate.

No, but this isn't a holiday.

The museum is paying for an assistant,

and I'm offering the position to you.

A real position?

It pays 35 pounds.

- That's almost what I make in a month.
- Good.

Well, I'll book us a suite
in one of my favorite hotels.

And what would I tell Marion?

- Patrick, I can't.
- Then I'll do it.

I'll tell her.

You mustn't hurt her, Patrick.

She really is a wonderful person.

Follow me, please.

Dance, go to the picture house,

or you can watch Punch and Judy
on the pier.

And that is art. Music inspires us

just like every single painting
in this gallery.

Right. Did you enjoy yourselves?

Yes.

Yes? Good, good.

Now, Miss Stewart here

will give each of you
a lollipop, all right?

Goodbye, now.

Oh, it's been such a delightful day.

The children have
thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

I better get them back to school.

Oh, I, uh... plan to put Tom
to work, you know.

On what?

Yes, the assistant curator couldn't go.

I almost had to cancel
before Tom stepped in

at the last minute and saved my neck.

- I'm sorry, I don't...
- Our trip to Venice.

Tom's gonna be my assistant
while I pick up some new pieces.

There'll be so much to pack up
and cart to the station.

He'll do a splendid job.

And I've seen to it that he'll be
handsomely compensated.

Hasn't he mentioned it?

Of course.

Well, thanks for being a sport about it.

Certainly.

Come on, children!

Marion?

You're going to Venice.

With Patrick.

I hadn't decided.

Why shouldn't I go?

Patrick is a sexual pervert.

That's ridiculous.

It's obvious, Tom.

To everyone but you.

You're wrong!

You want to see perverts?

Come down to the station,
and I will show you some.

They wear stuff on their faces,
rouge and that and jewelry.

It's pathetic!

And they have this walk.

- You can see them a mile off.
- All right, all right.

I get the picture.

He has business in Venice.

I'm being paid.

He's trying to destroy our marriage.

You know what, Marion?

I'm beginning to think
you've got a dirty mind.

I don't know what to do.

- I have to do something.
- I'll tell you what we're going to do.

We'll say no more about it.

I'm going in the other room.

I want you to pull yourself together.

We'll have our tea and forget this.

Marion.

Get a grip on yourself.

This love is all-consuming.

I pity people who don't know
what it feels like to be this in love.

Gloria, Gloria

Gloria, Gloria

In excelsis Deo

In excelsis Deo

Gloria

Gloria, Gloria

Gloria

In excelsis Deo

Gloria, Gloria

In excel...

...sis

Deo

Gloria in excelsis

Deo

In excel...

...sis

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

You've been distracted all week.

Something's wrong.

You ought to talk about it.

Tom's away.

Away?

He's...

with Patrick.

They're in Venice.

Collecting pieces for the museum.

Patrick is a homosexual.

You have to be careful saying such things.

He's in Venice with my husband.

And Tom?

I think he, uh... has...

tendencies that Patrick encourages.

What am I going to do?

Do?

I have to help him.

I'm his wife.

- Help him...?
- Change.

He has to.

Marion, listen to me.

I'm sorry to tell you this,
but it's the kindest thing I can do.

He won't change.

And it'll be better for both of you
if you accept that.

He has to give this up!

He can't.

Stop saying that!

He will change.

With my help.

It's just not true.

When I...

think of them together,
it makes my stomach turn.

It's disgusting. It's wrong.

Well, if that's the case,
then I'm wrong, too.

What have you got to do with it?

Good grief. Did you not know?

If you could see the look on your face.

You're...?

I have someone in my life.

That I love.

As much as you love Tom.

Five seconds ago, I was one person to you,

and now I'm something
altogether different.

What's changed?

It's unnatural.

And what about you
and your marriage is natural?

Another breath for me.

Excuse me, Mr. Hazelwood.

There's a gentleman here to see you.

A policeman.

Mr. Hazelwood, could we have a word?

This way.

Rounded up another one.

Marion!

Marion!

Tom?

- Tom?
- Patrick's been arrested!

- I was at the station when they brought him in.
- What?

They just looked right past me
like he didn't even know me.

- Tom, slow down. Tell me...
- Someone reported him!

Probably someone from the museum.

- Oh, my God.
- And they dug up some wretch

who claimed Patrick had him
in the alleyway behind the Argyle.

Listen to me.

We can put all this behind us.

We can start our marriage again.

Jesus, Marion!
This isn't about our marriage!

Patrick's going to prison,
and I'm bloody ruined!

Why you?

If they know about Patrick,
they might know about...

So it's true?

You and Patrick.

Yes, it's true!

Now someone will tell.

They'll find out everything,
and that will be it.

Then everyone will know what I...

I'm sorry.

I know I've let you down. I lied.

What am I going to do?

No one will ever know.

How can they not?

Because Patrick would never tell them.

You don't know how the police work.

Patrick wouldn't do that to you.

It's all right.

We'll find a lawyer for Patrick.

A good one.

And if I have to, I'll stand up
as a character witness.

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Mr. Hazelwood gave my class
a tour of the museum.

And during that visit,

did you have any reason
to believe that Mr. Hazelwood

was a danger to your pupils

or in any way
a negative influence on them?

On the contrary, the children loved him.

Do you believe that
Mr. Hazelwood is capable

of performing the acts
with which he stands accused?

Namely, gross indecency
in a public convenience

and endangering public morals.

No.

I do not.

Thank you.

Mrs. Burgess,

do you know Mr. Hazelwood
in another capacity?

Other than professional.

Yes.

He is a friend.

A close friend
of your husband's, is he not?

My husband and I
both consider him a friend.

But he and your husband
are particularly close.

Isn't that true?

So close they recently traveled
to Italy together.

Patrick had business there.

Did your husband have business there?

He was assisting him.

Assisting?

Yes.

Mrs. Burgess, I'd like to read an extract

from one of Patrick Hazelwood's diaries.

These were collected in his apartment
when he was arrested.

Some of it is rather purple, I'm afraid.

This is from a page dated
31st of July, 1957.

"I recognized him even from behind.

"That fine head.

"The unmistakable line of his shoulder.

My policeman was magnificently alive
in front of me."

Mrs. Burgess, who is "my policeman"?

I have no idea.

Perhaps another extract
will help you remember.

This is from a later date.

"We've been meeting in the afternoons,
if he can get away,

"or in the evenings,

"but he hasn't forgotten
the schoolteacher.

"Yesterday, he brought her to the museum.

"She's instinctively possessive.

"She touched his shoulders
at every opportunity.

"If only she knew that my hands had been

"on those same shoulders the night before,

as my policeman and I..."

I'll stop here, as the next passage
borders on obscenity.

Mrs. Burgess,
you're a schoolteacher, aren't you?

Yes.

And what is your husband's occupation?

Mrs. Burgess?

A policeman.

Speak up, please.

A policeman.

I'll see you in the car.All right.

- Oh, Mrs. Burgess.
- Oh!

Hey.

Did you see Nigel and his friend?

They live a few streets over.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

I'm fine.

I see a psychiatrist...

who has generously offered
to help me change.

Isn't that kind of him?

What happened to your face?

This is a prison, Marion.

My new home.

For two years, in fact.

How's the food?

Oh, for God's sake,
I don't want to talk about the food.

Tell me about Tom.

- How is he?
- Um...

He found a job.

I've kept my teaching position.

So, we'll manage.

Could you ask him to come and see me?

- I need to see him.
- I can't.

Please, Marion, please. I have to see him.

No touching.

I'll ask him.

But surely you realize he can't come.

I'm sorry.

Well, you must be pleased about all this.

Why on earth would I be pleased?

You've won.

Patrick...

nobody's won.

I wish you hadn't done that.

It's not much good to me now, is it?

I've seen Patrick.

He asked after you.

Why did you have to go?

Everyone else has deserted him.

Tom, there's something I... have to know.

Do you... love Patrick?

- For God's sake, Marion...
- No, it's important.

Do you love him?

I love you.

I can't lose you.

Let's not mention his name again.

What's this?

I need to talk to you.

- You're going out?
- Tom, please.

I've tried to help Patrick,

but he fights me at every turn,
and you're angry all the time.

Oh, what the devil
are you trying to do now?

Let me speak.

I think I brought Patrick here
because I've been so lonely.

What do you mean?

I'm always here.

You're never here.

I've never had you, not for myself.

He was always in your life, in our lives.

Just stop this foolishness.

Sit down. I'll make us some tea.

You say we never talk?

- All right, we'll talk.
- I'm leaving.

What?

I can't stay here. It will kill me.

For God's sake,
you brought him back into our lives.

You stirred everything up, and now,
and now you think you're going to leave.

And what do I do?

Oh, for once, Tom,
you might take care of yourself.

Oh, so now we're back to this,
how I ruined your life.

No, you didn't.

But you did lie to me.

From the day we met. And you kept lying.

You loved Patrick, and...

- Stop.
- ...you still love him.

- Just stop.
- All of these years,

I've blamed myself
for keeping the two of you apart,

and I never really thought,
"What have I missed?"

No, I'm not, I'm not,
I'm not listening to this.

I reported Patrick to the museum.

It was me.

When the two of you were in Venice,
I felt so betrayed.

And then your postcard came.

It felt like you were taunting me.

I just felt so humiliated.

Then it occurred to me
there was something I could do

to win you back and save our marriage.

I wrote an anonymous letter
to Patrick's supervisor.

I said I had personal knowledge
that Patrick was a homosexual

and I imagined he wouldn't want
the museum's patrons

exposed to that kind of person,
especially children.

The next day, I regretted it,

and I've had to live with it ever since.

I tried to make up for what I'd done

by standing up for him
at the trial, but...

You know what happened.

So I decided

the only thing left for me to do

was to get you through the mess we'd made,

and I thought, "Now I'll have him.

I'll have him for myself."

But I never did.

You destroyed him.

We destroyed each other.

I shouldn't have deceived you.

It wasn't right.

But I couldn't tell you.

You would've left me, and...

I did want you.

But I wanted him, too.

Nigel's number is there on the counter.

- And the chemist.
- You can't be serious.

We don't make each other happy.

- Of course we do.
- No, Tom.

You have the sea, your swimming.

I don't even like Peacehaven.

When I pictured my retirement, I saw...

museums, the theater, weekends in...

I don't know, something.

What do you want from me?

Uh, do you want me to beg you to stay?

All right. I am begging you.

Tom, Patrick's failing.

I think he can turn around,
but I have to wash my hands of it.

You can send him to a home,
but I hope you won't.

I hope you'll keep him here and love him.

It's what he needs.

It's what you need. And I need to go.

- I'll be at my sister's for a while...
- Please, please.

- ...and then I'll have to...
- Please don't go.

Please don't go.

I can't...

I can't live alone.

Tom, you're not alone.