Original subtitles

LAURA: 'There was an old local saying - "Alone...you're nobody."

'Miss Lane often said that the key to life

'was that people need people.

'I found it strange that there were people

'who did not have people in their lives.

'I found it mystifying that they should choose to live that way.'

More parcels for Mr Reppington?

More gramophone records.

Which are not so light to be ferrying to and fro.

Only "to", Thomas, and only as far as the end of the street.

"From" the delivery wagon, ma'am, and "to" the Golden Lion.

One of the porters told me

that Mr Rippingforth has fingernails longer than his arms

and that he eats his own hair.

How long has he been up on the top floor of the hotel?

Almost five months. No-one has seen him or spoken to him,

save for his personal valet, who is the only one allowed into his room

and seems to be sworn to secrecy.

Poor valet has the fear-eyed look of a man beaten down by a cruel employer.

To conceal your face must mean you have a face needs concealing.

I have heard talk of a heinous crime

which brought Mr Reppington to bury himself away in the hotel.

I hardly think a wanted man would choose an hotel

to hide from the world. Perhaps he is just shy.

Extremely shy.

Candleford is out of the way, ma'am. And hotel rooms is outer of the way.

I heard he comes out at night to peer through windows

and he had teeth could bite through doors.

Perhaps he steals maids and boils them for his supper.

Do you truly think so, ma'am? Oh, honestly!

This empty gossip and rumour-mongering is getting out of hand. It must be stopped.

How can it be stopped, ma'am, when he remains a mystery in our midst?

That is simple.

The mystery must be solved.

DOOR OPENS

Look at those things in my living room.

I don't know what is worse,

the ugliness of them or the smell of them.

These are a working man's feet.

These are toes to be proud of.

Toes that deserve tender respect.

What they deserve

is a room of their own where I don't have to look at them.

A house of their own!

Woman, you do not appreciate earthy beauty when it is under your eyes.

If you so much as hug me

looking like something that has crawled out of a ditch,

I will have you sleep in the pigsty.

Robert, whatever happened to...romance...

and mystery?

Give us those socks, and I'll darn them.

But the benefit is intended for widows and widowers.

And you are neither, I am glad to say.

You didn't tell me that, you old duffer.

Ah, well. See, it's worse for them as has two in the house.

There's two to feed and two to keep warm.

But you do have the comfort of a companion.

I think that is the point of this stipend -

to alleviate the loss and the loneliness with a few coals

and some rent for those in dire need.

And right it is. It's widows and widowers that the wagon comes for

to take 'em to the workhouse.

There's old folks picking up pennies from the Post Office

who's younger than me, and that ain't justice.

I see no reason for you to be aggrieved

with me about this, Mr Turrill.

I am merely appointed to distribute the charity.

Miss Lane, you may be.

But why is you suddenly a hexpert in old age?

And why do you have the "yes" and "no" in this business?

That I do not know.

I did not ask for this responsibility.

It was foisted upon me by the anonymous benefactor.

Who do you suppose it could be?

That has to be Mr Perpingtull.

Reppington, Minnie, Repp-ing-ton.

And why does he want to be so kindly toward the old folk?

Ma'am, can't you write to Mr Pinklepump and tell him

that Mr and Mrs Turrill are so old that they soon will be widowers?

One of them.

We don't know for certain that this allowance is from Mr Perpingt...

ALL: Reppington.

Thank you.

But perhaps it's time we found out.

Minnie, I want you to deliver a note to the hotel

for the attention of Mr Reppington's valet.

CHURCH BELL RINGS

"A Parade of Fashion." Correction - "The Latest Fashion.

"Announcing the A-line skirt hot from Paris.

"The Pratts bring haute couture to the Golden Lion."

Isn't that rather a lot to fit on a banner?

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruby. This will be a leaflet for dispersing.

Well, come along - there is much to prepare.

We must have everything perfectly in place so there may be no hiccups.

This promises to be one of the biggest nights of our lives.

PEOPLE CHATTING

Ma'am, I have a note for you...

from Mr Reppington's valet.

It seems to be a cipher.

Why would he send you a cipher, ma'am?

Mr Reppington is clearly a man who enjoys mystery.

A man who lives by self-concealment.

Laura, what is a cipher?

It is a means of making a message so that it cannot be read.

A message is writ so that it cannot be read?

What's the use of that?!

I can help you unscramble it, Miss Lane.

Oh, I will relish the challenge our neighbour has set me.

Has it got a secret in it?

Cabbage.

Ain't there even the ghost of a bit of bacon?

Cabbage.

Tom, ain't it time you had a shave?

I can hardly see your face.

What's the point of shaving? It'll only grow back again tomorrow.

Your hair needs cutting. Looks like a rat's nest.

I shall cut my hair on my birthday... same as every year.

You used to be so proud of your looks.

I remember when the gamekeeper give you that coat.

When you first wore that hat, you were the dandiest thing

that ever strolled through this hamlet.

WHEEZY COUGHING

What's that?

A cough.

That was wheezing.

Wheezing is what the frailest of old folk do.

I am old.

But I'm not as old as you.

A fashion parade to be held at the Golden Lion.

An event. We've had some leaflets printed.

We wish to attract all the young ladies from hereabouts.

A fashion parade in Candleford!

We will of course draw the line at serving girls and maids.

Pearl, I wonder.

The models will have so many changes to make

during the course of the evening, might we be in need of a dresser?

We cannot afford to pay you.

You mean I can be there?

And look at the dresses and look at the ladies and look at the dancing?

You must rehearse with us

every evening to make sure you know what you are doing.

I'm so glad you're both going to be there.

I'm sure it will be an occasion to remember.

Well...

A poem.

"Let the clocks strike twelve where the moonlight falls,

"Let the night reveal the face of mystery.

"In the garden behind the golden walls,

"Solitaire beneath a tree."

Golden walls...

The Golden Lion.

CHURCH CLOCK STRIKES

FOUNTAIN TRICKLES

It is rude to spy on someone.

Ah! Not if that person knows they're being observed.

I'm not what you expected to find?

I did perhaps have a rather gothic idea of what a recluse might look like.

HE LAUGHS

Our little town is peppered with rumours and tales

about the mysterious Mr Reppington.

Ah, well, I don't mind.

Although I do take offence at the idea that I eat my own hair.

I do need it all, you know.

Thank you for agreeing to see me to discuss the stipend.

It has caused a good deal of curiosity and a little controversy.

Oh, it's simply that I can't bear the idea

of someone who has loved another for a lifetime being so lonely.

Better that they endure the loss in their own homes

rather than the workhouse.

Why do it anonymously?

I don't want a trail of beggars and weaselers at my door.

Will that do you?

It will.

For now.

Why choose me for the task?

But you're Dorcas Lane.

Who else in Candleford might I select?

My father always used to say that we have a duty to notice one another,

to be interested in the condition of our neighbours.

Well, if one watches people closely, as I've been doing since I came here,

then...one can even tell what's about to happen.

You'll watch us, yet you turn your face away from human contact.

I find that puzzling.

They say I am in hiding from the law.

Are you?

I hope I'd make a better fist of it than this if I were.

You are an amiable man. You occupy yourself with the lives of others.

And I have very few years left,

so why do I squander them in my own company?

I can't help being curious...

...what did you do before you chose this life?

I imagined that we might spend some convivial time together...

...but you examine me like some sort of exhibit.

I am no more than a riddle to you.

I am sorry.

Good night, Miss Lane.

HE SNORES

HE SNORTS

SHE GIGGLES QUIETLY

Are you perhaps a little nervous about your fashion fair?

No, not at all. Not really...

Yes.

I expect people find it peculiar...

that such an event should be put on by the Pratts.

I mean, women choose their clothes to look attractive.

To please a man.

Oh, I'm not sure that is true.

I myself simply love the feel of a good silk.

I see no reason to please Mr Tarman or Constable Patterson.

I only meant it's not wrong for a woman to want to appeal to...

...to imagine...

...to want...

And Pontefract is such a long way away.

We have our correspondence.

I am a post mistress.

I have seen for many years what becomes

of love affairs conducted by letters.

It is joyous, for a while. Then it is not enough.

Why should it be?

An envelope cannot wrap its arms around you.

And then it becomes painful.

Every missive emphasises the distance...

...until it becomes too much,

and thoughts turn to a remedy for that longing.

What about your thoughts, Ruby?

There is only one remedy.

Miss Lane!

Miss Lane, Miss Lane, might I put upon your good nature

and persuade you to invite Lady Whiteleaf to our show?

She is, after all, your riding companion.

You might encourage her to come as your guest.

Lady Whiteleaf, yes, of course. That would give me the greatest of pleasure.

ALL LAUGH

And when I looked back, he winked.

Winked?!

Flattery from a young yeoman

is enough to take 20 years off a woman's life.

He wasn't so young - perhaps 30.

Ain't that young?

I look at my Twister...all that hair.

I've been cutting a piece or two off each night

so he won't notice.

Under all them weeds is a man I once found fetching.

A wink on the street means nothing. It's harmless enough.

It means something. It means you can still attract the eye and admiration

of a handsome man in uniform.

It does lift your spirits.

You enjoy it while you can, my dear.

A girl's idea of paradise - winked at.

No harm in it, no harm at all.

Miss Lane, I believe you are the one I must speak to

concerning the benefactor fellow giving out alms?

I am...

...but unfortunately he has made very strict stipulations.

I never have been one to beg. If a man is able to work to provide

for his family, that's what he ought to do.

But in your circumstances,

I can see you might need a little assistance.

I can make enough in the fields to pay for the rent and feed us.

Lizzie needs new shoes, see.

If we can tide by for now,

in a few weeks all will be topping.

We just need a pound or two.

Perhaps if I speak with him,

explain your plight, he might take pity.

I don't ask for pity, Miss Lane.

I just want a chance to show I can take care of my family.

It will all come good. I can do this.

Come on.

BELL RINGS

I have never known you to be so quiet, Minnie.

Is that a flush on your face?

If your tea goes cold, it ain't my fault.

Ma'am.

Mr Parish, I wonder if your newspaper might be interested

in what is causing such a stir in Candleford.

We have stolen a march on Oxford where Paris is concerned.

My dear, how's your heart?

Your ma died of her heart, and you're older than your ma ever was.

What kind of maudlin talk is that?!

Thomas Brown...

...how does Queenie look to you?

She looks like Queenie.

But how does she look in herself?

Hale, hearty.

Only she's been wheezing, see.

So have I.

What is it bothering you, Mr Turrill?

She will die.

Ah, yes. In fact, we will all die in the end,

in our turn.

That ain't the point of it.

What if she dies and I don't?

We must achieve speed, child. Speed and perfection.

I surely will, ma'am.

Pearl, on such an occasion as this,

when we are surrounded by our friends, such goodwill...

Nonsense, Ruby. This is entirely a business affair.

But such a gathering, the support of our neighbours...

it is, is it not, an indication of the fondness...

We must harness this opportunity to generate income.

Every encounter is a potential sale, every conversation a customer in the making.

That must be ever present in our minds.

Perhaps not ever present?

Candleford is so full of people who might offer a hand of comfort,

of sustenance, and this event...

Do you see? It holds the possibility for us to deepen...

to lean upon...

Ruby, must I forever correct your wayward thinking?

I hope to not always be a burden to you, Pearl.

My sisters and I would find a clump of white violets

in a cleft of the brook bank, and we called it our "holy secret".

We would guard them the day long. We were only about six or seven.

We loved our little secret.

Ethel, the tree - let's go climb it. Come on.

"I have been watching you."

What is it, Ma?

What does it say?

Um...it's nothing.

Nothing to do with us. Come on. Whoo!

Ma'am...

you know how my sisters vanished and were gone?

And, ma'am, I did notice how,

before they vanished, they were different.

TELEGRAPH MACHINE RINGS

What are you two doing out here?

Ma'am, Daniel has been sending and receiving telegrams all afternoon.

And, ma'am...

it appears that Mr Reppington is not Mr Reppington.

Oh, really? The mystery deepens.

When Laura told me the timing of his arrival here,

I realised there was a coincidence.

Have you ever heard of William Bourne?

The concert pianist, of course.

It appears that he vanished without trace around the same time

that Mr Reppington arrived here in Candleford.

I've been looking at newspapers from the time.

There was great speculation about why William Bourne

should suddenly disappear from London society.

I expect he might have grown weary of it.

Society can be very tiring.

And with this man in the hotel who no-one has seen

and with gramophone records being delivered.

William Bourne's tour of Europe was a major success.

He created such a clamour that members of the audience were left collapsed

and thrown into a trance by his playing.

How fascinating.

So why is he in hiding?

Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions

based on a coincidence of dates?

William Bourne was known for his fondness of riddles and ciphers.

Ma'am...

Minnie is asleep.

She was becoming anxious whenever she mentioned her sisters,

so I told her to close her eyes and take slow breaths.

Now every time she utters the word "sister", she falls to sleep.

Oh, my post office.

Oh, Miss Lane!

The latest ladies' apparel to be paraded

in order that clients might enjoy the enticement.

Oh, but I cannot afford the latest fashions.

There, Miss Pratt.

It is only that...

I would be personally grateful if you two were to favour the occasion.

Miss Pratt, I am a man.

I cannot look at women wearing clothes.

What Thomas means is

ladies exhibiting enticing attire.

Thomas...

you and I have passed the time of day, every day, for so many years.

It would mean a great deal to me if you were to come.

Perhaps, if you were to come for the refreshments and a waltz...

or two, you might avert your eyes during the parade?

Thomas, if you are not required to actually look...

It is for a good cause. Yours and your sister's business.

Oh, I am glad you can see things that way.

My sister will need... will welcome your support.

Pearl is not as invincible as she cares to present herself.

The event will be quite a trial for her...for us.

In the spirit of neighbourliness...

Margaret?

I suppose we might oblige.

You have always been such cherished friends.

And will continue to be so.

We are not going anywhere.

William Bourne here in Candleford. Think of it.

There is something in that cipher Miss Lane is concealing from us.

It is a message between Mr Reppington and Miss Lane.

What business is it of ours?

Do you not see the import of this?

There is a newspaper recently launched in London.

It has a readership of one million people.

I shared your excitement, Daniel.

The sending of those telegrams,

the idea that this great man is in our midst, the mystery of why,

but what we do with that... William Bourne is loved by many people.

They want to know, like us, what has become of him.

What is wrong with telling them?

Because he does not want to be found!

I can see what you're thinking, Daniel.

A national newspaper.

This could be the making of you.

Of course you will think that.

But is that who you want to be?

I hoped you might come out.

Do you walk out here every night?

Or was it the thought that I might return?

Perhaps I am as curious about you as you are about me.

I have been wondering... why did you come to Candleford?

You could hide in Venice,

Niagara Falls,

Timbuktu.

HE LAUGHS

You underestimate the delight of your town.

What I see from my window is...

...wondrously English.

My father used to say that Candleford was peculiarly English.

That was why he stayed.

Opened the post office and the forge.

Why he poured himself into the life of this town.

Ah-ha!

Now I understand - you were born into the hub of the town, hm?

The mixing pot of other people's lives.

I like to tell the tale of how he took to his bed for nine days

so that I might find my feet behind the counter.

And it was the making of you, Dorcas Lane.

The comings and goings. The letters and their telltale signs.

You have a regular delivery of gramophone records.

Is music a comfort to you?

You assume I need to be comforted.

Can you truly tell me that you are contented...

William?

If I'm uncovered, I'll vanish.

I don't think you want to do that.

I believe you came to Candleford for a reason.

There is a journalist here in town.

Daniel Parish, I know about him.

He is an eager young man with certain talents.

I suspect he might uncover more about you.

The time has come for me to leave.

Then your life will always be so.

Moving on don't you see? Seeking out another hiding place.

Are you so determined to avoid yourself?

My neighbours are curious about me...

but when you look up at my window,

what I see in those eyes is a challenge.

You find my decision unacceptable.

Perhaps because what you do seems to me to be...

against nature.

And do you suppose that your...kindness

will restore me to my former life?

Is that what you hope?

Not your former life, no.

Some kind of life, perhaps. Here, perhaps.

To go from a life so full of riches to this...

something happened.

Something must have happened.

TWIG SNAPS

Someone's there.

Let me go.

Miss Lane!

Fine night. The moon's up.

If I could just explain to Mr Purpletush,

it's worse for them as has two in the house.

Two to feed, two to keep warm.

OWL HOOTS

DEEP BREATH

ALL LAUGH

Did you put him up to this?

Who?

The soldier, did you encourage him?

Mrs Timmins, I have... The note left on the tree.

"I cannot leave you alone."

Do you wish to cause trouble for me? Is that it?

I promise you I know nothing.

I saw you talking and laughing with those soldiers. I saw you.

I only smiled at him.

A smile is no more than a smile.

I had no intention of inviting him to pursue me.

Mrs Timmins... I'm a married woman, I love my husband.

I will not let you make trouble with my family.

Come with me now and speak with the soldier.

Let him tell you that I have no part in this.

I know what you think of me,

but I will not permit you to accuse me of this.

Now come with me.

Oh, Lordy.

Mrs Timmins, if this man is bothering you then let me confront him.

No, not that.

Not you.

I am such a fool.

Alfie, I'm waiting for the eggler. Have you seen him?

The eggler's always late. It's his legs.

What you waiting in Lark Rise for when he comes regular to Candleford?

Because...Miss Lane has decided to make caper mayonnaise.

The truth of it is, Alfie, I ain't waiting for the eggler.

Who you waiting for, then?

For you. But I'm here.

I know.

Am I allowed to talk about your ma being gone and your pa being gone

while the children are listening?

You just did.

Will you take her?

Go on.

Only, there's a lot of people gone, ain't they?

When my first sister vanished away,

afterwards, not before, I saw the signs of it.

Then when my second sister was preparing, I could feel it.

But how do you stop it, Alfie?

How?

When you know someone is going to go, and people will be so hurt...

...what do you do to stop it happening?

Who are you talking about? Who's going?

Minnie?

Minnie.

She's asleep!

Minnie, what kind of way is this to arrive home?

It's a disgrace, ma'am.

It ain't her fault, Miss Lane. She sort of passed out is all.

We are about to hear the wonder that is William Bourne.

CLASSICAL PIANO MUSIC PLAYS

BELL RINGS

BREATHES DEEPLY

MUSIC FADES

Her name was Isobel Bonner.

She was something of a London socialite, a rare beauty.

She died on the 4th of June.

The very next day, William Bourne cancelled his tour and vanished.

Why would her death make him go into hiding?

There was talk.

Mrs Bonner would turn up wherever William Bourne was playing.

She was married for 31 years to Sir Charles Bonner.

How long were Isobel Bonner and William Bourne...

...known to one another?

Since before she was married.

She was called Mostyn then, not Bonner.

Yes, of course.

Must you always make bedlam when I am busiest?

Ow! Give it! Frank was using it first.

No, he wasn't. Yes, he was.

Can you settle these children of yours?

They are beyond me. Away.

Now, there's a welcome home(!) Wash your hands before you set the table.

What kind of example do you wish to set?

(I've been watching you.)

I can't stay away from you.

Didn't you say there wasn't enough romance and mystery?

Em?

Em, what is it?

If I could go back...

...I would look at that hole in your sock.

Holes. Each foot had its own glory.

I would not chide you.

I would not call my own husband ugly.

Robert, I'm so sorry.

If there's one thing I know about women...

...I don't have an inkling how they work.

Use the back of your hand to protect...

The idea is the garment must be laid out for the model to step quickly into.

This is such hot work. Shall I fetch us some cooling liquid?

Ma'am, I know it ain't my business.

I want to say something about...someone

without saying one certain word.

Someone who is not a brother.

You have one, and I have two.

And that person,

when they ain't here, then you wish you'd been kinder to them.

Look at her!

Heaven help us. Give her the liquid!

I have been no more than a silly, vain...

I have been wishing for things a girl wishes for.

Not a woman, married with children.

Why can't I accept that?

You've done nothing wrong.

But it might not look that way when Daniel Parish tells the tale.

Then you must go to him.

Explain truthfully.

Tell him you made a mistake.

The soldier did not send the note.

I will be putting myself entirely at his mercy.

Like it or not, you're already at his mercy.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I want to run.

If my husband hears any of this...

Oh, I can't bear it.

I want to vanish away.

But you won't.

You will stay.

You will face Daniel,

because you're a brave woman

and because you have to.

Ma'am, would you do something for me?

If I fall asleep, would you slap my face?

Minnie, you must try harder, or Pearl will dismiss you.

Miss Pearl's fearsome, ain't she?

Pearl is the way she is because of the way the world is...

...to her.

When someone leaves someone,

and that someone don't say they're going or why or anything,

it hurts like no other hurt.

You know.

How do you know?

I see you getting ready for it. I seen it before.

If my sisters hadn't gone, then I could talk to them

and then I wouldn't feel so deserted.

Oh, Minnie...

You're right.

Pearl was abandoned once by our father.

He went out one day and he simply did not come home.

What he did was...

selfish and cowardly and ruinous.

It was beyond forgiveness.

If I were to go, it would be the same.

I didn't see that.

I would be tormented by thoughts of my own cruelty.

I suppose I've been indulging a wish.

A fickle little wish.

I will stay.

Of course I will stay.

How could I ever have considered any other possibility?

KNOCKING

Miss Lane, come on in. Lizzie, fetch Miss Lane a drink.

I was passing nearby on my ride out and I thought...

I wanted to tell you that I did get two pounds from Mr Reppington for you.

And I wanted to thank you for bringing Minnie home.

I was glad to help, Miss Lane.

Alf, you have a lot to contend with at the moment.

I know how fond of you Minnie is and...

she is most impressionable.

I wanted to ask you to be careful.

Miss Lane, what I been taught the hard way is

life ain't ours to map out how we want it.

We take the joys it gives us and be glad for 'em.

What use am I to my sisters if I am miserable the day long?

Minnie...makes me laugh.

She makes me smile. That's all.

Mr Reppington didn't give you that two pounds

Please take it, Alf.

And bow my head every time I come in the post office?

I shan't.

I have a task that needs doing tonight.

I need several men.

Perhaps if I were to pay you...?

MEN GRUNT

I borrowed it from a neighbour.

Lady Whiteleaf.

If she knew what I wanted it for, she would be beside herself.

It's excessive. Intrusive.

But since it is here, why don't you play?

Please?

I felt I had to do something.

Don't you miss composing?

What makes you think I've stopped, hm?

It's here, in my head.

But you don't write it down, you don't play it.

What does it matter?

It matters, because you are not in hiding.

You are in mourning.

I feel it on you like a sickness,

but you cannot admit it.

You are so utterly resolved to deny yourself.

I said that you found my isolation unacceptable.

Well, I was wrong.

You find it unbearable.

I am nothing to you,

and yet you pursue me as though your life depended on it - why?

Why that look in the eye? The fire in the voice?

Is what you did so unforgivable?

Yes!

Isobel Mostyn was a Candleford girl.

She married well - Sir Charles Bonner.

Do you hope to see her ghost from your window?

All right.

I could have married her,

but I was too in love with my music and my glittering career,

and I kept her dangling... for too long...

...and she married.

And then I knew.

Oh, God, then I knew.

She wouldn't leave her husband.

She couldn't hurt him.

But you continued to see one another?

Continued to love one another.

Love does not do this to a man.

It is guilt which crushes us.

It is shame which holds us in the dark.

My father...

I'm not your father!

You're determined to draw me out. Why?

You think that you're doing it for me, but you're not.

You're doing it for you.

My father died so young.

He was not given enough time,

and you...

you refuse to live.

Play!

I cannot bear that you deny yourself. Play!

If I did...

...I'd be doing it for you.

I won't do that.

I will tell you why.

My father was the heart of this town.

Life poured through him.

And then there were times when it didn't.

He withdrew.

He was gone from me for days,

and I could not comprehend it.

I could not draw him out.

And it pained me like nothing else.

Like the fear was in my blood...

...and it would never end.

And then the day did come when he was gone...

...and the pain was the same, and the fear unbearable.

So, yes...you would be doing it for me, I admit it.

I cannot bear your isolation.

But it is not yours to bear.

It's mine.

And I'll be true to it.

Mrs Timmins.

Mr Parish, my husband wrote that note.

The soldier did not write it.

I thought you should know.

Of course.

I hope you did not speak with the soldier.

Things are confused enough.

I can understand that you might be concerned what people think of you.

What I might think of you.

You might think you can destroy me

and perhaps you can.

If you hadn't noticed I saw you when you smiled at the soldier,

when you received the note, what would you have made of it?

I don't know, I...

Robert.

I would have seen that...

...Robert left it for me.

I know you will not feel safe with me having this knowledge.

There's nothing I can do about that.

I broke my promise to you about seeing Laura.

Any assurances I make will be of no value to you.

Let me say this.

I have no wish to make mention of this business to anyone.

Time will tell you I mean you no harm, Mrs Timmins.

You shall see.

I was hard on you, wasn't I?

So you decided to write it, then?

Of course.

The world deserves to know that Candleford is a place of renown

since the sisters Pratt have "stolen a march on Oxford

"and introduced the A-line skirt hot from Paris".

I ain't got no intention of dying.

Good.

Neither have I.

Not yet.

Twister...

...every wife and every husband comes to this in the end.

Who's to be the one left behind?

Who's to bear the sorrow and the loneliness?

What I can't stand is I don't want it to be me that goes,

and I don't want you to go neither.

Well...we ain't there yet,

and fretting about it don't make the best of what we have.

Now, does it?

Fretting's what I'm best at.

Oh! Cabbage!

Cabbage.

Mr Reppington, if I may...

I have been considering what you said about my motivations.

You are right.

It is not my business how you choose to spend the remainder of your days.

I am glad to hear that. So may we part as friends in mutual respect?

Yes, but I'm not quite done.

You said that what you saw in my face was a challenge.

I believe you want that challenge.

That is why you sent me a note.

No, a cipher.

Playful, enticing.

You want the game. You wish me to draw you out.

Your world was sealed. You broke that seal.

Perhaps I simply wanted to prove you wrong.

If that is what you believe...

if you truly want to know,

let me put you to one more test.

If it does not turn your thinking,

I will leave you to enjoy your isolation.

# The lark in the morning she rises off her nest

# She goes home in the evening with the dew all on her breast

# And like the jolly ploughboy she whistles and she sings

# She goes home in the evening with the dew all on her wings

# Oh, Roger, the ploughboy He is a dashing blade... #

SONG CONTINUES IN BACKGROUND

I cannot hold a tune.

I cannot rescue you.

Words cannot save you.

But music may.

#..She goes home in the evening with the dew all on her breast

# And like the jolly ploughboy she whistles and she sings

# She goes home in the evening with the dew all on her wings

# One evening coming home from the rakes of the town

# The meadows been all green and the grass had been cut down

# As I should chance to tumble all in the new-mown hay

# "Oh, it's kiss me now or never, love," this bonnie lass did say. #

Mystery and romance.

There's something in that kiss.

Something new.

APPLAUSE AND MUSIC

I heard that Mr Reppington left already.

Yes.

But we are here, so we will enjoy ourselves.

And now a superb evening gown in pale green silk.

It has a curved decollete with an elaborately-beaded corsage.

HE STARTS TO PLAY

MUSIC CONTINUES

MUSIC FADES

APPLAUSE

Ruby.

Mr Bourne.

May I say, your playing...

What's Candleford done to deserve such a wonder?

Oh, please...!

Miss Pratt, forgive me for being so forthright,

but I have been watching the town through my window,

and I feel I know you,

and I know that these are perilous times for you.

And Miss Lane has told me a little of your circumstances.

Pontefract.

I cannot abandon my sister.

You don't have to. Face her. Tell her.

Oh, that's impossible.

I let my moment pass.

Ruby, dear Ruby...

Pearl might be more prepared for this possibility than you can imagine.

Mmm. I've bitterly regretted my decision a thousand times.

MUSIC AND CONVERSATION

Pearl, do you think we might step aside to speak?

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruby. This is the worst possible moment!

Look at them! They are ripe for the picking!

Pearl, please.

I am leaving.

You cannot possibly abandon the party when there's business to be done.

I'm leaving Candleford.

I'm leaving you.

Whatever we say to one another now, I am going.

I will travel tonight.

I had plans to vanish,

I was so afraid you would dissuade me, prevent me.

I realise now I cannot do that. I must face you.

I am taking up a new life... with Lionel.

I always knew this day would come.

I cannot bear the thought of hurting you.

But you can bear the thought of remaining even less.

APPLAUSE

Believe me, there is much about our life here that I love.

But...I am a woman.

I want to be more than a sister, more than a seamstress.

I long for...

an embrace.

Is that so bad?

I dream of a family of my own.

Isn't that natural?

It is more than natural.

It is beautiful.

I promise you...

if the day ever comes, it will be you I turn to,

because I know you are my dearest friend in this world.

Go.

Please, go.

LAURA: 'Kinship spins threads around us,

'but there comes a time when we must break free.

'Who knows for how long?

'There was an old local saying -

'"Alone you're nobody."

'Miss Lane often said that the key to life

'was that people need people.'

All I need now is a story to launch the Candleford Chronicle.

Who is old peg leg?

A veteran.

From the Crimean War.

What is it you seek to achieve, Daniel?

Justice.

For an old man.

How's a man like you come to have such a fine bottle of brandy, Arthur?

But why does he live as he does if...

He ain't the man we thought.

Us.

What are you doing?

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