All language subtitles for Widows.Peak.1994 CUT CUT .dvdrip.XviD-CycLOPS_eng

The curse of God on you:

God bless him.
Isn't he great for his age?

Miss Grubb, you bold thing,
you're taking us home.

It's the third Sunday,
the day for the cemetery.

I know. I thought you might like
to pick up Master Godfrey.

Godfrey is not
next or near the house.

Jesus:

He's at the dentist.

You have the height of luck,
Mr. Doyle-Counihan.

Sunday dinnertime...

many a professional man
might be intemperate.

Now, local anesthetic.

I got it at the local.

Mr. Clancy,
suddenly I feel a lot...

That's what they all say.
When you think of it...

this is the only place
in the world...

where toothache is unknown.

Open up now, sir.

Think of your mammy's lovely
house burning to the ground.

- Huh?
- That's the stuff.

- Now, identification parade.
- Uhh:

You'll tell me
when I get warm, won't you?

- Fair dues now.
- Ohh.

Aah: Aah:

Are you sure?

We're on the pig's back...

so I won't need
to pull that bugger.

It'll walk out.

Still, no sense
in discouraging business.

Ohh...

- Hold still now.
- Aah:

- How's the mammy?
- Mmm:

Fresh and well she's looking.

The woman, I always say,
is born for widowhood.

It is her natural vocation.

The woman is incomplete
until himself is six feet under.

Aah:

Who are you telling?

You, sir, are, as yet,
a youngish man...

but you may have noticed...

that no sooner does a widow
leave off wearing her weeds...

than people are never done
telling her how ravaging...

how ravishing she looks.

Would you say, now, that is
why your own mammy...

having been twice bereaved...

is ahead of the field
in the beauty stakes?

No one's going to tell me
I don't disinfect.

I dote on women, so I do.

I could look at them
until the cows came home.

Mr. Doyle-Counihan,
I would not, at this minute...

be putting you through
the agony of the damned...

except that the first
I set foot in this town...

I saw her...

Miss Katherine O'Hare...

a jewel,
a skylark in the hen house.

She's as poor as Job's ass
in a town that's as rich as God.

She has the smallest house...

and the sweetest smile
on Widows' Peak.

There's a secret about her,
would you say?

Where does she fit in?

If you know,
don't, whatever you do, tell me.

I like a woman
with a bit of mystery.

Oh, the first day
I clapped eyes on that one...

I made up my mind.

If she ends up as anyone's
widow, it'll be as mine...

or I'll swing for her.

Aah:

I have good news for you.

Back that at a hundred to eight,
you bollocks, you.

Ladies, that'll do.

Enough's enough.
We don't want to spoil them.

Uhh:

Oh, Mrs. Lacey,
no getting morbid.

If you please, ladies.
It's a busy day for us.

Anything stirring, Miss Grubb?

It's Clancy the dentist.
He's calling on Miss O'Hare.

Oh, show.

It's too late. They've gone in.

The silly woman.

You'd think she'd had enough
of that sort of carry-on.

I do hear tell
he is overly fond of his jar.

He's a man. That's enough.

- What, dear?
- I said he takes the snuff.

Oh.

Good morning, Miss O'Hare.

I hope I didn't hunt
your visitor.

Oh, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan,
not at all.

Mr. Clancy was
just admiring my roses.

Sure, why wouldn't he?
Would you like a jaunt?

- Excuse me?
- Get in next to me.

"Sure, where's the harm,"
says you, "in a bit of style?"

How are you, ma'am?

People do pay me compliments
on my roses.

I do tell them there's not
a ha'p'orth of skill involved.

A weenie bit
of loving care, maybe.

Mind, I'll own up to it.

I wouldn't mind one day
to grow a rose of my own.

- And you will, please God.
- I don't know.

But if I ever do,
I'll call it the Widows' Peak.

You'll what?

In honor of our little kingdom
and how snug we are in it.

My dear,
I hope you'll do no such thing.

Widows' Peak?

That's the name used by all
the jealous boots in the town.

Miss Grubb, slow down.

It's the Lucy girl.

The poor creature.

What poor?

Now, we gave her every chance,
so we did.

Get it adopted, we said to her.

But, no, she'd sooner make
a show of herself and of us.

Where will she go?

Where do you think she'll go?

Why else did God
in his goodness invent England?

A new rose,
now that'll be nice for you.

And, of course, it means
you won't be leaving us.

Is it me?

For gracious sake,
why would I want to leave?

Now, aren't people scandalous?

The way they talk, I mean,
about yourself and Mr. Clancy.

About...

Corner-boy gossip.
But don't mind it.

The word is,
he's popped the question.

Hello. Hello.

- The question?
- One question or the other.

Excuse me?

And we all know
what the other is.

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan...

Mr. Clancy is a gentleman
through and through.

He would never dream...

Miss O'Hare,
do you see the green in my eye?

Now, listen here.
You know me of an old date...

and I'm not one
to rub vinegar into a cut...

but it doesn't do
to have too short a memory.

I mean, we don't want
that carry-on a second time.

- Once bitten...
- Yes:

And a woman of your years...

Has the man no decorum?

So it's true, then?

Old Mrs. Melody's cottage
has been sold.

Now, there's another excitement.

Well, I'm too old a dog to act
in breach of my instructions.

Your revered mother...
R.I. P... .

laid down the terms under which
property on Widow's...

on the hill may be leased...

no children under adulthood,
no males of any kind...

except in the case
of your son Master Godfrey...

and no married
or single ladies...

unless by exceptional consent
of the residents.

In short, ma'am, all is well.

Oh, rather, the new owner
of Melody Cottage...

is, unhappily, a widow.

Unhappily.

And, what is more,
a war widow...

or, at least, a postwar widow.

Her husband,
Major Broome, V. C...

recently died of wounds
received in 1918.

Will you go to God? A V.C.?
Do you mean...

Are you saying
he was in the English army?

No, he was with the Germans.

Wait till word gets out.

And do you mean that
that man's wife is coming here?

If you please, Miss O'Hare,
I'm talking.

Now, I can't say
I'm partial to military men.

They have a coarseness
I can do without...

but a medal now is different...

especially when
it's from what they call...

For valor?

Posthumous, I was going to say.

Posthumous is nice.

And his wife?
There are no children?

You're certain?

The lady is a bird alone.

In fact, she should be
flying in just anytime now.

Shit:

Hey:

Damn it.

Oh, my:

Had a puncture?

No, my car threw me.

Let me give you a hand.

- Ha ha.
- Ha ha, yourself.

Thanks, but don't you think...

you might get dirt
on that fancy dress of yours?

A few spots? Who cares?

The very thing.

Mrs. Broome, isn't that it?

Ten out of ten.

I saw the removals van.

I'm Godfrey Doyle-Counihan.

The mammy and I
live up the hill from you.

- Up Widows' Peak.
- Widows'...

In Kilshannon, Mrs. Broome...

widows are as plentiful
as freckles on a redhead.

Maybe you knew that.

I came to Kilshannon
for the climate.

What climate? We're in Ireland.

Was I misinformed?
Before you jack up the car...

aren't you supposed
to put a stone or a wedge...

under the wheel
to keep it from...

Mrs. Broome, would you say...

that I'm doing you
a small favor right now?

Don't tell me
you want a favor in return.

Nothing of a disgusting nature.

Now, it's just that
when you meet the mammy...

and you will, don't let on
to her that I can change a tire.

- Why?
- Well, God rest her...

she thinks that I'm like
the rest of the men, you know?

A bit helpless,
bit of a namby-pamby.

You know what mammies are like.

So I put on an act for her.

I pretend
I'm helpless without her.

She'd never get over it...

if she thought that I wasn't
in the least bit helpless...

that I could do things
with my hands...

like changing a tire.

Ahem.

I'll keep your secret.

Oh, look.

Are you in trouble?

Well, let's just say
if I had a bad reputation...

you're doing it
the power of good.

Whoa: You've arrived.

Excuse us.

- I was married, you know.
- Yes.

And I still like
a good stretch.

I'm sorry I can't offer you tea.

No teapot, no cups,
no sugar, no cream, no tea.

I could, uh, light a fire.

A Boy Scout.
I'm sure you could.

Tell me, do you have a maid?

Not until now.

You'll need one.

Up here on the Peak...

having someone in
to polish your silver...

marks the point where women
leave off and ladies begin.

I don't make the rules.

The women do.
Or rather, the ladies.

And each one of them has a maid.

After you've been a widow
for thirty or forty years...

having a chaperone
around the house...

may not be a necessity, but
it does wonders for the morale.

Mr. Doyle-Counihan,
I think you're a brat.

So let me give you a tip.

Out of the goodness
of her heart...

first thing the mammy will do
is find you a maid...

and ten to one,
it'll be Mata Hari.

- Oh, yes?
- Maddie O'Hara, that is.

During the recent Troubles...

Dublin Castle
had an intelligence network...

that was only legendary.

Maddie would knock them the lot
of them into a cocked hat.

The sorrowful fact is that
where Mata Hari is concerned...

there is no such place
as no man's land.

- How many times?
- Fourteen, Canon.

She takes the front line
with her as she goes.

- Was he married?
- My sister's husband, Canon.

Oh, dear, dear God.

Did you take pleasure in it?

l... I didn't mind.

Oh, dear, dear, dear God.

Trot out the details.
Spare me nothing.

So, Mrs. Broome,
tell this poor admirer...

Is that what you are?

What brought
a beautiful woman like you...

to maybe end up on Widows' Peak?

Truthfully.

When we're better acquainted.

Bargain.

There, that'll put
a bit of warmth into you.

It's taking nicely.
It'll be roaring in no time.

Well, I'll love you
and leave you then, so.

Oh, and remember, next time
you see me with herself...

don't let on to her
that I'm such a handyman.

Mammy's the word.

Aha: Good luck now.
See you soon.

I can't wait.

Is this Mrs. Broome
that's in it?

Yes. Hello.

I'm Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.
What way are you?

God bless you, you're as welcome
here as rain in a drought.

Thank you, l...

Creature, you,
what are you doing...

sitting where the people
from the town sit?

Move down with us.
Yes, you will. Now, up you get.

No, really, l...

Now, don't be shy.
There's buckets of room.

Now, I say you will.

Excuse me, I'm sorry.

Thank you, but, really,
I was quite comfortable.

- It's not the thing.
- What?

We keep separate
from the townies.

We don't mix, dear.
That's the custom.

Well, at least,
some of us don't.

Miss O'Hare, make room.
There's a good woman.

Now, down you sit.

Isn't it a massive film?

I do hear tell you see God
in the second half.

Miss Grubb,
have you anything sweets?

So, tell,
how are you settling in?

Yeah, no, wait.
Where is my manners?

Mrs. Broome,
this is Miss O'Hare.

Oh, butter wouldn't melt,
but a great character.

How do you do?

Ah, Miss Grubb...

why are you tempting me,
you bold strap, you?

Will l, won't I?

Will l, will l, will I?

I'll introduce you to the other
ladies back at the house.

We're all going there for tea
after the film.

Now, what was I asking you?

Oh, yes. Are you settled in?

I think so. It was
a bit confusing to begin with.

The pace is so different
in Ireland.

But I'm beginning
to get the hang of it.

But you're not English
after all.

Pardon me?

What I mean is, your accent
is American, isn't it?

Oh, Lord, is it so noticeable?

Yes, well, I grew up in America,
in Washington.

My father was military attache
at the embassy there.

- Oh.
- The British embassy, that is.

Ah... grand.

Here comes God.

Thank you.

Then after the war...

l... I went to France...

to visit Nigel's...
my husband's grave.

I suppose one might call it
a pilgrimage.

And they gave him a medal?

A what? The V.C., yes.

And I couldn't bring myself
to go back to England...

not to live there on my own.

We hadn't been blessed
with children.

So I went south, to the Riviera.

I took a house at Antibes.

I was there seven years,
since 1919.

And then I left, and here I am.

And where else
would you want to live?

Nobody in their senses
would live in France.

What made you decide
to honor us, Mrs. Broome?

Don't tell me you were
tired of the blue sea...

and the palm trees
and the sunshine.

No. No, in many ways,
I was sorry to leave.

But you did.

Miss O'Hare,
you're being inquisitive.

If Mrs. Broome had a mind...

to move out of one place
and go live in another...

isn't it her own affair?

Ladies, amn't I right?

- Yes.
- Of course.

I enjoyed living
in the south of France.

There's no secret why I left.
l... I had to.

And as I say, I didn't want
to go back to England.

There were too many...

painful memories.

You had to leave?

Well, I hardly like to say.

I'm sure.

You see...

It is Miss O'Hare, isn't it?

I had been married, and, uh...

now I was a widow,
and I was still...

forgive me, quite young.

And my husband had seen to it...

that I was not
uncomfortably off.

- Oh.
- Ooh.

I left Antibes
because... because of men.

Because of fortune hunters.

Oh, wasn't that woeful for you,
you creature, you.

Well, it was probably
time to go, in any case.

I missed hearing
my own language spoken...

and I missed
the kind of climate...

where you get snow and sunshine
and rain and fog...

all in one day.

And Nigel had often spoken
so affectionately of Ireland.

He loved this country so.

He told me how he used
to come here for the shooting.

Really?
What did he shoot... Irishmen?

Uh, Miss O'Hare, honest to God.

Why not? It isn't as if
we're ever out of season.

Mrs. Broome,
don't mind a bit of her.

Miss O'Hare
has had family misfortunes.

- Oh, dear.
- Oh.

And even so, we don't talk about
such low goings on...

as wars and massacres
and people getting shot.

No. We leave all that
to the men...

seeing as they're good
for nothing else.

Would you say that includes
Englishmen as well?

Miss O'Hare, I think
you've exceeded your allowance.

Anyway, the fighting
and troubles and such...

aren't they all behind us
and in the past?

No.

Uh, another piece of sweet cake,
Mrs. Broome?

No, no refusals, no.

Yes, you will,
just in your hand. Godfrey.

How wonderful it must be,
Mrs. Doyle-Counihan...

to have a son who's so helpful.

Oh, Godfrey's a wonder.

We'd be lost without him.

He's the only man here
who's worth his salt.

A man? God forgive you,
Dolores Furlong.

She wants to put ideas
into his head.

He's all I have, Mrs. Broome.

Oh, go on. You're an old cod.

Still, the mammy and I
are great pals.

Oh, how lovely.

Are you in business,
Mr. Doyle-Counihan?

Godfrey.

I do have a profession,
yes... the law.

But I don't practice much
these days.

There's too many little jobs
to be done around the house.

Oh, poor Godfrey.
Sure, he tries.

I'm sure.

That reminds me,
I'll be needing a housemaid...

and I was wondering
if you might...

With a heart and a half.

In fact, there was one woman
I heard about...

who sounds like
a pearl beyond price.

What was her name?

Oh, yes. Maddie O'Hara.

Oh, dear.

So, what do you think?

About the widow?

Well, would you not say
you could do a lot worse?

Fortune hunters
she ran away from.

You could be well-matched.

Oh, son, put away your toy.
Your mammy's talking.

I'm not one of those mothers...

that thinks they can hold on
to a son down all eternity.

Oh, you'll go from me someday,
I know that.

So, now,
what do you think of her?

Now, Mammy, stop it.
No matchmaking.

I'll decide whether
I like Mrs. Broome or not.

You wasteful child, you.

What do you think Mammy is for?

Why do you think there's
nothing but all divorces...

in America and England?

Because people choose
for themselves, that's why.

It's scandalous.

I think I'll call upon her
Saturday afternoon...

and ask her to go
for a stroll by the lake.

You do. Do.

And pretend you're as good
as ten carpenters.

Yes. Make yourself useful.

Yeah.

A widow. That's good.

She knows
what there is to know...

and her stomach
would have been turned by it.

She'll have learned her lesson.

She won't harm a hair of you.

I have made inquiries
in the neighborhood...

and really, Miss O'Hara...

Or Maddie.
May I call you Maddie?

You sound like
absolute perfection.

Nothing but the highest praise,
a treasure.

Oh, heavens,
I shouldn't have said that.

Now you'll want more money.

Well, let's not quibble.
Shall we say...

whatever you were getting
at your last place...

plus five shillings a week?

I do, however,
have two firm rules...

that we must agree on
from the start.

The first is no gossiping.
I will not have what happens...

or is said in this house
talked about.

Gossip? Is it me?
Oh, no, no.

Please, I wasn't
for a moment suggesting that...

I swear on the grave of
my mother that's dead and gone...

It isn't necessary.

If a word of gossiping
or carrying stories...

ever passed my lips
or ever will pass them...

may I be put sitting on
the hottest hob in purgatory...

and may I splutter steam...

Please, l...

Until Good Friday
falls on a Saturday.

Maddie... Miss O'Hara...

I was merely stating
a little rule of mine.

The fact is, everyone
I've spoken to in Kilshannon...

agrees that
they haven't heard...

one word of scandal
pass your lips.

They what?

They say one could
as soon get gossip...

out of the old town hall clock.

- Excuse me?
- And as for the other rule...

I can't abide doors
or drawers or cupboards...

that are under lock and key.

It's a little fetish of mine.

I like everything
open and accessible...

so of course I do need
a person such as yourself...

who... who doesn't pry...

who respects
the privacy of her employer.

Is that too eccentric
on my part?

I'm dead. That's what it is.

I've died and gone to heaven.

- Good evening.
- You're ready.

Guess what. I've had an idea.

- You... you look...
- Oh, good.

I thought,
as you've been so kind...

as to take pity
on a lady who's all alone...

I thought,
why not make the most...

of its being Saturday night...

and instead of a walk,
why not a dance?

Good God.

Whenever Nigel was on leave...

we'd go dancing every evening
and all at the Savoy.

People nicknamed us the Castles.
You've heard of them?

Vernon and Irene Castle
from America.

Oh, well, the fact is...

Oh, don't tell me
there's no place we can go.

I have a car.
I can drive us into Limerick.

Well, the fact is
that around here...

unless there's a party
or a hunt ball...

Don't tell me there isn't any.

- Well...
- No music at all?

- Well, yeah...
- Good. Let's go.

Yes, but you have to be
a certain...

Maddie, I'll be back
before midnight.

If my luck runs out.

You don't get my drift.

This is not the kind
of dancing that you... Oh:

This place we're going to...

Katy Daly's.

Who did you say?

It's what it's called.

I ought to warn you, it isn't
exactly the Savoy in London.

For heaven's sake,
Godfrey Doyle-Counihan...

don't you think
I can make allowances?

Potted palms,
four old ladies...

a harp, a violin,
a piano, and a cello.

Who cares?

Con. Mr. Clancy.

How in the world do you do that?

It's the same as pulling teeth,
only in reverse.

That woman...

she's that peculiar friend
of your mother's.

Miss O'Hare.

She oughtn't be here
no more than us.

Mind you, she's mad.

She doesn't like
the English much, does she?

I don't know why the mammy
and the other old dears...

bother to bid her
the time of day.

They're such snobs, and
she's poor as a church mouse.

Yes, why is that?
Have you ever thought to ask?

I did once.
I said to the mammy...

"What's the secret?

"What is this hold
that Miss O'Hare has over you?"

And do you know what she said?

"Ask me no questions, child,
and I'll tell you no"...

Oh. It's over.

Stay out of the ditches.

Good evening, Miss O'H...

Cold for the time of year,
isn't it?

And now,
ladies and gentlemen...

the next dance will be
an old-time waltz.

Ladies' choice.

And for this dance...

the special spot prize
will be two tickets...

for the premiere performance
of that great film...

"The Big Parade,"
starring John Gilbert.

Ladies' choice.

Does ladies' choice mean
that I'm supposed...

Hey, mister,
would you be on for a dance?

Uh, I'd... I'd,
uh, I'd be delighted.

Jesus, I'm made for life.

Would you like to?

I was ready to slash my wrists.

Shall we?

Lovely orchestra, isn't it?

Do you come here often?

Terribly jolly, isn't it?

Jesus.

Now, now, now.
Everybody stay where ye are.

Don't move a muscle:

Off you go, Mrs. Fogerty.

Take five paces forward:

Over here:

Not a jig out of anyone:

One, two, three, four, five.

Are you there, Mrs. Fogerty?

I am.

OK. So now, um, turn right:

Take three paces:

One, two, three.

Yes?

Now, now, now, turn left.

Take six paces:

One, two, three, four,
five, six.

Yes?

And now, last of all,
and for the prize...

turn left again.

Oh. Something disgusting
stuck on my shoe.

And take two short paces:

One, two.

Oh, I'm so sorry.
I lost my balance.

Have we a winner?

- We have:
- Excuse me.

Come back here:

There ye are.
And the great style of ya:

Who deserves it better?

I deserve it better:
That woman pushed me.

- Oh, Katherine.
- With all her strength.

Pushed you?
I did no such thing.

That's a lie.

How dare you.
I fell against you accidentally.

Yeah, to be sure you did.

The same your lot have been
falling against us...

for 700 years, accidentally.

I see.

I'll take that, if you please.

You will not.

While there's breath in my body,
you will not.

- Kindly let go.
- Katherine, give it to her.

No:

Miss O'Hare, I have no desire
for a public quarrel...

least of all in public.

As far as this prize
is concerned...

- You're welcome to it.
- Thank you.

Just as soon as you own up...

that I did not push you
deliberately.

Ha:

Katherine,
Katherine, just leave it.

Hey, Mossie,
you're slipping.

You ought to dance
with a better class of mot.

Huh?

That one would take the pennies
off a corpse's eyes.

Ha ha ha:

Ooh:

Hey, hey, hey: No rowdyism:

That's mine.

Then take them.

If women don't want
them tickets, I do:

Ooh, Con, what's happening?

You should know. You started it.

Can you not do something?

Sure, if one of them
needs a dentist.

Ohh:

I'm new here.
I don't know that woman.

I've never done her any harm,
and yet she hates me.

Why?

Because you're English.

Is that the reason, really?

No.

Mrs. Broome...

Edwina.

Edwina.

Did you really bump
into Miss O'Hare by accident?

Of course.

Well, good night. Thank you.
Most of it was lovely.

Thank you.
And I really enjoyed the drive.

Perhaps next week we could, uh...

Come for tea on Monday.
We'll talk about it.

Oh: By the way...

the mammy wants you
to sit on the Ladies' Committee.

It's to do with town planning
and things like that.

It's as dull
as a wet Good Friday.

I'll think about it.

I wouldn't if I were you.
Good night.

Good night.

Oh, why did you ignore
my advice about Mata Hari?

Don't you know
that your private life...

will become knowledgeable
throughout...

the length and breadth
of the twenty-six counties?

I don't mind in the least.

I don't have any secrets.

Good night.

Good night.

If you'll excuse me
saying so, dear...

dance halls are for people
not like us.

Now, I don't blame you,
not a bit.

You're English.

You have no idea
about social distinctions.

Miss O'Hare was at the dance.

Yes, well...

She's one of... us.

She is, and she isn't.

She's half and half.

What has she got against me?

I've tried to be friendly,
but it's war to the knife. Why?

Why, why?
"Y" is a crooked letter, pet.

- What does that mean?
- I haven't the remotest.

Why don't you
have a talk with her?

Yeah, be nice.

- I have been nice.
- Be nicer.

Put yourself in the right
and her in the wrong.

Oh, there's Godfrey:

Mammy: Ha ha:

Coo-ee:

She wins prizes for her roses...

every year
at the Adare flower show.

Tell her how you never saw
the likes of them.

Miss O'Hare.

Maddie, I'd like to talk
to Miss O'Hare...

privately, if you don't mind.

I brought you a peace offering.

It's just some fruit
from my garden.

I have no use for it really.

The fruit, I mean,
not the garden.

Miss O'Hare,
don't you think...

we could at least talk
like grownups?

If I've done anything
to offend you...

I promise you
that it simply wasn't intended.

I knew in my heart
it was no use coming here...

but at least I tried.

If we're not friends,
it's by your choice, not mine.

Good-bye.

Would you look at
the face of her?

What ails the woman?

What badness is in her?

Is there any rhyme or reason
to it?

I don't know.
She's rude and hateful...

and there's no reason to it.

No:

Ma'am, them's the ones
for the flower show.

She said,
"I brought you a gift."

Next.

Ladies, are you coming in,
or aren't you?

And then you know what happened?

She went over
to the prize rose bush...

and she broke two of them off
and threw them on the ground.

This is a likely spot.

- For what?
- A proposal.

How did you know?

My late husband proposed to me
in the Lake District.

He believed water was romantic.

Your own mother's never
done saying...

that all men are alike, so...

Well, in that case,
it should be...

like marrying
the same man twice.

I came here to be rid of men.

Fortune hunters.
That excludes me.

We have pots of money,
and so have you.

Otherwise
you wouldn't be huntable.

There are those who would say
we were well matched.

Including your mammy?

Especially the mammy.

You want to be rid of men?

Marry one.

I don't like idlers.

I'll go back to the law.

I don't like lawyers.
They consort with criminals.

No, they don't.
They consort with other lawyers.

That's what I said.

Isn't there
some family business...

selling bottled mineral water
from the spa?

Yes. That's how
we made our money...

but the well
dried up years ago.

Then import some water.

Better still,
use ordinary water...

and whatever makes it
taste disgusting.

My God, you're as crooked
as any lawyer.

Aren't I just?

When I receive your proposal,
I'll consider it.

Meanwhile, it's customary...

to provide a sample
of goods on offer.

Um...

Who's going to provide
the sample?

Think of it as mutual.

Tit for tat.

Bloody fool:

What do you mean, fool?
That's my car:

Stop it:

Aah:

You say the woman on the bicycle
was too far off...

to identify as Miss O'Hare?

Well, allow me,
if you'll pardon the expression,

to mark your card, ma'am.

Even if you could identify her,
and it was Miss O'Hare...

there's not
a shred of evidence...

to say that she tampered
with your motor car.

Then who else
could have done it?

That's not a question
a judge would put to a jury...

especially not if the jury
and the defendant was Irish...

and the plaintiff was English.

It was she. I know it was.

Ma'am, I have a son
in Trinity College...

and a wife who says
that without a fur coat...

she'll die of pneumonia...

so I could do with a fat lawsuit
that would last a week.

I could assure it tomorrow
against Miss O'Hare.

Then do it.

You'd lose...

and the Irish
are a litigious race.

She'd bring a countersuit
against you...

and the upshot would be...

that she'd never need to take
a lodger ever again.

A lodger?

Aye. The poor thing hasn't
2 ha'pennies to rub together...

so from June to September,
she rents out a room.

No. If you sue Miss O'Hare...

you'll be backing
the wrong horse.

She's too well liked.

Then what am I to do?
There's no end to her malice.

She's called me
a thief in public.

My car was almost wrecked.

What next?

She's a harmless soul...

a relic of old decency.

Between ourselves
and these four walls...

what did you do to her?
Own up.

Nothing. Well, not really.

Anyway, she started it.

It's because I'm English.

Are you codding me?

Mr. Gaffney, I see no humor...

Because you're English?

Yes. For some reason...

she loathes and detests
anyone who...

And who do you think
her lodgers are?

Tourists on holiday...

from London and Liverpool
and Birmingham.

They come back
year after year...

because no landlady
has ever made them...

feel so much at home
as Miss O'Hare does.

She hates you
because you're English?

Come on, now.

You'll have to do
better than that for a yarn.

Ma'am: Ma'am:
It's on the wall.

What?
What are you talking about?

Oh, ma'am, what's writ on it.

Writ? What do you mean, writ?

You mean written?
Written where?

The one thing I won't be
is a hindrance.

Seeing as
the regatta's upon us...

I'll do my bit,
same as always.

The Ladies' Committee
won't even know I'm gone.

Ah, will we not?
You think so?

And you,
you'd throw away 30 years.

Now, change your mind.
Yes, you will.

If that woman
is on the committee...

But she lives here.

She's entitled to be on it,
as you are.

Katherine, it's not too late.

Now, what began as a quarrel
is turning into a scandal.

There's talk of graffiti.

I know nothing about that.

And her motorcar
won't be mended for a month.

Oh, she's clever.
I'll give her that.

It's all my doing.

Poor Miss O'Hare
that's gone astray in the head.

It's all to be laid at my door.

And she's you fooled as well.

Me? How?

The car and the paint...

and what happened at the dance.

Don't you see that
she's the one behind it all?

It's part of
what she's been up to.

And what's that
when it's at home?

I think it's to do away with me.

To...

Because she knows
I can see through her.

I gave myself away...

the first time
I clapped eyes on her.

Maybe she credits me
with being smarter than I am...

but at least
I know a gold ring...

from the brass one you'd find
in a sweet cake on Halloween.

A gold ring?

I'm talking about her...

about her not being
what she pretends to be...

and that's maybe why
one of these dark nights...

poor Miss O'Hare will walk
into the lake in her madness.

- Into the...
- Don't you see it?

Are you blind?
She's up to murder.

Miss O'Hare.

Well, ma'am,
did you talk her out of it?

Quite the opposite,
Mr. Clancy.

I think she's tired of slaving
for the committee.

She ought to rest herself
for a month or so.

Aye, with all my doors
and windows locked.

Watch her.

- What?
- I said watch her.

She trusts you in her innocence.

I don't, not so far
as I could throw you...

or the whole seed
and breed of youse.

But I'm telling you
to look after her, to mind her.

What is it that ails her?

I don't know.
She has queer ideas.

Has it to do with the past?

What?

I mean before
I came to Kilshannon.

I know there was something...

because,
well, I'm fond of her.

And I ask her
about how it was...

the time she was growing up,
about herself.

She won't answer me.

She looks out of the window
or at the lake...

but not at me.

So what is it?

I don't know what you're talking
about, Mr. Clancy.

There's nothing in the past.

Nothing.

Would you like a hot cup?

There you go: There you go:

Easy now, son: Not too quick:

Hold it, hold it, hold it,
hold it: Easy, easy:

Go on, go on, go on,
go on, go on.

Take it easy. Not too quick.

Steady...

Go on, go on, go on.
There you go.

Oh, Con: I'll fall in:

Not a bit of you: Hold on:

Hey: Come back:

What about me?

- Admiral.
- Good to see you.

Grand. You're here.

Well, come on.
We'll get aboard, huh?

Well, what's the rush?

Well, the rally's
in Inishkeen...

and the harbor's
a little on the tiny side...

so the boats
that get there last...

have to moor out on the lake.

Is that so bad?

Well, it's all right
rowing ashore...

but rowing back
to the cruiser isn't.

Do you mean because of
the currents on the lake?

No, I mean because of
the pubs on the land.

- Mrs. Broome.
- Hello.

Right, everybody.
Let's get aboard.

Come along, Mammy.
Lend a hand, Miss Grubb.

What fun:

Right, Mammy.
Come on. Up you get.

Up, up, up. That's it.

I think I'd better go
in the car.

No, no, no, you won't.
Come. Get in the boat.

- Oh, Godfrey:
- That's it. Stop it, now.

Up you get. Lovely.
Hands and shoulders up: Lovely.

I wouldn't go next to
or near a boat...

only the doctor told me
I needed exercise.

That's right.
That's it, Mammy. Down below.

What next?

I never dreamed. I had no idea.

- What?
- That Ireland was like this.

I'm so glad I came here.
It's perfect.

Almost perfect.

Well, the "almost"
can be rectified.

Say you'll marry me.

On this lake and under this sky?

The gods would strike us dead
for our impertinence. No.

I'll say it on dry land.

- You will?
- Godfrey:

Oh, that's all right.
The boat will steer itself.

Look, not a feather out of it.

You'll say yes then?

Today I'd say yes
if Miss O'Hare invited me...

to drink a glass of
her own blackcurrant wine.

Not bad.

You'll do.

Yes, you'll definitely do.

Is that her up ahead...
the old witch, Miss O'Hare?

Yes.

Oh:

Just hold the wheel lightly.

That's it. Gentle.
Be gentle. Just a touch.

Pretend she's a woman.

You say the loveliest things.

Godfrey,
will Miss O'Hare get to...

wherever it is
we're going ahead of us?

Inishkeen.

We're faster,
but they've got a head start.

If we opened her up,
we could make it.

We could be first round
Hamilton Point...

and then again, we might not.

Then open her up,
my future husband.

Whoo:

Oh:

She gaining on us.
I think it's a race.

Godfrey, stupid child,
put the brakes on:

Won't it go any faster?

There are too many
small boats around.

It's considered bad form.

We're not going
to overtake them.

There's not enough water
between us and the point.

You're heading for the shallow:
Go back to the channel:

We've done it:
We'll be in first:

- Yes:
- Good girl yourself:

Better luck next year:

Ha ha:

Jesus, they're on top of us.

We're never
going to overtake them.

There's no room:

Then they can
very well move over.

Look, do you want
to see them on a shoal?

Do I? Oh, heavens to Betsy,
what a terrible idea.

Edwina: Throttle back:

Let go of me.

Oh:

Get over:

Aah:

- Get back:
- Aah:

Oh:

Did you see what he did?

- Tighten those sheets:
- Hold 'er steady.

Katherine, are you hurt?

Ohh...

I'm fine.

Are we sinking? I can't swim.

It won't be necessary.

One of the few advantages
of going aground...

is that you can walk ashore.

- Do you need a hand?
- Are you hurt?

Can you hold on?
There's boats coming:

Can I throw you a line?

No: Don't let him.

Don't let them come near us.

Don't worry, I won't.

What are you trying to do, son?

Tow us out into deep water
so you can sink us properly?

Well, at least
let me help you aboard:

No:

It's all right.
We won't want for rescuing.

If the weather holds...

you'll be back on the lake
inside of a month.

All you need is a denture
and a bit of bridgework.

I'm sure.

What's a couple
of cracked bicuspids?

You'll be sailing this boat
till you're a hundred.

Another 80 years, what?

Miss O'Hare,
can I just say that we...

my family, that is,
will gladly pay for the repairs.

There, now.

It was my fault entirely.

I shouldn't have let Edwina...
Mrs. Broome... take the wheel.

I don't suppose
there's any point in asking...

if it would be possible for her
to say how sorry she is?

I mean, it would just make
the day perfect for us...

because we're actually
going to announce...

that we're going to be engaged.

Oh, well.

That's great news.
Engaged, what?

God send youse good luck.

What do you say, Katherine?

She completely lost her head.

Didn't know
the rules of the river.

Don't pass on the right.

Pass on the right.

No, it was just high spirits
and lack of river sense...

so obviously, we wouldn't like
anything to spoil our...

She tried to kill us.

What?

Murder was what I said.
And I was right.

Ah, woman, you're raving.

While we've been sitting here,
I worked it out.

What she'd a mind to do was
to ram us in the midstream...

where the water's 40 feet deep.

Are the pair of you blind?

Can't you see what was going on
in that murderous brain of hers?

And she'll try it again.

As long as she's not found out,
she'll go on trying.

All right, Con?

Is this seat taken?

- No, no. Quite all right.
- Thanks.

Whoo: Ha ha ha ha:

Absolutely fantastic:

I say:

I thought you said
it was dead around here.

It must be one of them mirages.

You don't hear a mirage.
You see it, you hick.

I love men when they're witty.

Excuse me, dear madam...

but might one inquire
what the occasion is?

If it's public.

It's the regatta dance...

for the regatta and the rally.

Excellent. And forgive me...

but are there nonteetotal
beverages available?

Not for the likes of them
that's had enough.

I don't know you.
Go 'way from me.

We don't know him,
either, missis.

We gave him a lift
from outside Nenagh.

Permit me, ma'am.
First Lieutenant Rokesby...

of His Majesty's ship "Heroic."

Lads, will we go to
the old dance? Say we will.

At your service, ma'am.

The fact is, I've had
a somewhat checkered 24 hours.

Fell into bad company
in Dublin last night...

and missed my ship.

Courtesy visit, you know,
not bombardment.

So I thought I'd catch up
with it in Cork...

and took the road
to Limerick by mistake.

Going to be the devil to pay.

- That serves you right.
- I suppose it does.

- And the devil's cure to you.
- Well, thanks very much.

Hey, admiral.

Is someone calling?

- Hey, limey, are you coming in?
- Oh, yes, why not?

Lord knows where
I'm going to sleep tonight.

Oh, I say.
Are you going, too?

Good. I have a partner.

Go away from me. Go on.
Shoo. Shoo.

Drunken Englishman.

Thank you. Keep the change.

You came in. Grand.

How do you feel?
Are you all well in yourself?

Oh, yes. I think
I'd like to go home, actually.

Excuse me,
most gracious lady.

But may I have
the pleasure of this dance?

No, you may not. Go 'way.

One small circuit of the floor
is all I crave...

or at least to as far...

as where they're serving
refreshments.

Am I in my own country at all,
or amn't I?

They're everywhere I go,
tormenting me:

Can't you see
you're annoying the lady?

- That'll do you now.
- Are you saying I offend her?

Not at all. It's just
she's not in form for dancing.

If it's a drink you want,
it's down there. Good lad.

So much for the friendly Irish.

To you.

Uhh:

Good God, it is:

It's you: Well, I'm damned.

Excuse me?

You... here, of all places.

My God, they do say
it's a small world.

I'm sorry.
I've never seen you before.

Yes, you have.
Don't talk gammon, old girl.

But where the devil was it?
And I've forgotten your name.

Wait. You tell me who I am.

You're mistaken.
I really don't know you.

Now, you're making
a nuisance of yourself.

The lady doesn't know you.
Come on, Edwina.

Edwina?
No, no, that's not it.

Yes. Now I remember.
It was at Antibes.

We'd put in at Monaco
for repairs, and you...

Oh, my God: Yes:
I don't believe it.

You, here, of all places.

How damn priceless.

I don't...
Godfrey, I need some fresh air.

Yes, but they're going to make
the announcement about us.

Fine. Well, let them.

Yes, but we have to be here.
Everyone's going to applaud...

For Christ's sakes, Godfrey:
Do you have to be so childish?

Con:
Why don't you treat Mr...

- Rokesby, ma'am.
- Rokesby to a drink?

- Thanks very much.
- Sure.

And of hope and glory

We'll take Barney Murphy's
horse and trap...

and I'll be back to him
inside the hour.

A few more steps
and a good night's sleep...

and you'll be
as right as the rain.

I have no drink in the house.

- What?
- For him.

- He wants more drink?
- I want more drink.

Wha... what's going on?
Why are we here?

Be quiet.

Up you get.
Can you manage it?

Oh:
Splendid Irish hospitality.

Infinitely obliged:

Don't worry.
You'll sing for your supper.

- There you are.
- Right.

- You got the door open?
- No.

- Home already?
- Oh, yes.

All ashore
that's going ashore:

You'll frighten the horses.

You'll frighten the neighbors.

Steady, now.

Home, sweet home.

Oh, God. Time for beddy-byes.

Oh, no, Mr. Rokesby,
the night is still young.

You and I are going to have
a little drink.

Just first tell me...

Just you and l,
as snug as two bugs.

I don't like
just driving off...

and leaving you on your own
with him for the whole night.

Oh, aren't you a gorgeous man?

You're jealous.

You're as good as a tonic.

No, I'll be safe
with Mr. Rokesby.

Even when the English
are murdering you...

they're always pure gentlemen.

Well, if you're sure...

Good night, Con.

Good night, Katherine.

Good night, Maddie.

Good night, Miss...

Oh: Tsk:

Now, then...

I'll be your sweetheart

If you will be mine

Good evening, Maddie.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Are these
what you were looking for?

I suppose you remembered
that you'd forgotten...

to re-seal my letters
after you'd steamed them open.

What? May God forgive you.

I never.
May I drop down dead.

- It's the weather.
- I beg your pardon?

Rain one minute, sun the next.

Sure nothing sticks.

I knew there was an explanation.

Glue is useless.

What a climate.

True for you. It's fierce.

Maddie...

I want to know...

about that woman O'Hare.

About Miss O'Hare?

There's nothing.

She has no money.

What does she live on?

Why doesn't she live in town
instead of here on the peak?

She's nobody.

Why do Mrs. Doyle-Counihan
and the others...

put up with her? Huh?

What makes her one of them?

Is it blackmail?

What does she know?

Nothing.

It's the ladies who...

The ladies who know?
Who know what?

It was...

Well?

It was agreed long ago.

It was a bargain
they made with Miss O'Hare...

that it would never be
talked about.

No, nor mentioned. Not ever.

I see.

Well, you're going to talk
about it now.

Good morn to you, Miss O'Hare.

Isn't that
a grand class of a day?

Grand, thank God.

I haven't clapped eyes on you
since the regatta.

Were you not well?

Oh, no, I...

I thought it might be
dangerous to go out.

They say everyone's got
a summer cold...

the kind you can't get rid of.

Will you walk down with us,
or will you take the bike?

Ah. I think
I'll go on shanks' mare.

The banns are called between
Godfrey Doyle...

and Edwina Broome,
both of this parish.

If anyone can show
just cause...

why this marriage
should not take place...

he or she should do
so to His Lordship the bishop...

or to any one of the priests
of the parish.

This is the third
and last time of calling.

- Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.
- Canon.

Well, the church clerk
hasn't come haring around...

to say that somebody's
ready to swear to it...

that the groom-to-be
is in the Freemasons...

so I think we can safely use
racing parlance...

and say that the tapes are up.

And as for you, young man...

I've never known anyone
born so fortunate.

When I look at
this beautiful young woman...

Mrs. Broome:

Miss O'Hare.
I wouldn't know a bit of you.

Such a stranger you are
these two weeks.

Ought I to offer
my congratulations?

I'd be very pleased if you did.

In that case, I do.

Ah, God love you.

And I congratulate
myself as well.

I walked to Mass.
Did you know that?

I didn't take my bicycle...

because the brakes
weren't working.

Really?

Such a steep hill.
Wasn't I blessed?

But what I really
congratulate myself on...

is that once you're married,
you'll be safe...

and no one can touch you...
not me, not anyone.

And that means
I'll be safe as well.

So that's the height
of good fortune...

for the pair of us,
wouldn't you say?

Canon.

Safe?
W-what's she talking about?

What does she mean by that?

I have no idea.

Ah, the creature.

Old maids are the same
the world over.

The poor mind always gives way.

Will you come up, Canon,
for a bite of dinner with us?

What is it, Con?

I hope you went to early Mass...

because
you're late for this one.

What's happened?

Someone put this through
my letterbox.

Whoever wrote it
doesn't put his name to it...

but I'd like to know
if it's true.

Read it.

It's short,
but not what I'd call sweet.

Well?

Ohh...

C-con, th-this sort of thing...

Is it true?

A...

A long time ago...

a girl...

A different person. She...

Con, you can't walk away.

You can't walk away.

Ohh...

Lunch, Mammy.

Dinner, Godfrey.

There's me own sister...

Sister Teresa Gonzaga
from the Carmelites.

They let her out
on condition she doesn't talk.

And there's me cousin
Mossy Cooney...

who's in the government...

and Godfrey's uncle
on his father's side...

who was a gunman
in the Troubles...

and is the ambassador
to the Vatican now...

and the commodore
of the yacht club...

that's had the stroke,
but is coming in spite of it.

Oh, such a dinner:

It'll be the talk
of the county.

Excuse me...

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan,
for interrupting your lunch.

Dinner.
It's a private occasion, pet.

I know that,
so I won't take up your time.

This morning,
Con Clancy got a letter.

It said as how
I'd had a baby 30 years ago.

Uh, Miss O'Hare...

The baby's father
was a soldier...

out of the garrison
in Limerick.

It was the oldest story
in the world.

I was that innocent.

I believed him when he said...

he was off to fight
some foreign war...

and when it was over,
he'd send for me.

It was 1904,
Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

Your own Godfrey wasn't even
into long trousers.

I remember
the salt tears you cried...

begging me not to keep the baby
like I wanted to...

but to give it to strangers.

You promised
that no one in the town...

would ever mention it
or think bad of me...

that it would be looked after.

What I wanted
was to have the child...

and rear it
and be a mother to it.

But yourself and the ladies...

them that I still see
every day around me...

you said
that for me to keep it...

would be an insult
to good-living women...

to them that were
well in with God.

So in the heel of the hunt...

I went to Dublin
and had her adopted.

And youse kept your word,
I'll not deny it.

There was the little cottage,
all for myself...

not a penny rent to pay...

and I was
never looked down on...

because I'd done what was right.

I suppose I reminded youse
of how good youse were...

and how Christian.

The baby died.
Did you know that?

What? Well, no.
How could I have known?

When she was three.

I thought to find out...

what kind of people
she'd gone to...

and if they were good to her.

It took me a long while,
but I managed it.

I'm a great finder out
of things.

She'd been with
a doctor and his wife.

Nice people.

Only there'd been scarlet fever
where they lived.

I felt sorry for them.

So...

Oh, your lovely lunch
is going cold on you.

So this morning,
Con Clancy got a letter.

And now he's done with me.

Maybe it comes from having...

too high a regard for a person
in the first place.

It's not them you can't forgive
for being human.

It's yourself
for being so foolish.

Well, my secret is out,
and my race is run.

Con Clancy will die
in his own bed...

and me in mine.

You were foolish, too,
Mrs. Broome.

If you hadn't hated me enough
to want to destroy me with this,

then I wouldn't be here now...

and you'd be getting married
to himself there.

What am I saying?
You might even have finished...

eating the food on the plate
in front of you.

Are you saying that I wrote
an anonymous letter?

I'm sorry, but this lady
is not herself.

Did I mention
that it was anonymous?

I don't think so.

But 'tis no matter.

'Tis the day for them,
all the same.

For letters, I mean.

We'll be at least agreed
on that score, Mrs. Broome.

That name isn't yours,
but then, I don't know what is.

This letter is from
Mrs. Edwina Broome.

She lives in Scotland.

Her husband
was Major Nigel Broome...

who won the Victoria Cross.

The War Office sent me
her address.

Isn't it grand to know...

the English
are good for something?

She says
that you're an impostor...

and if I were you, I'd go back
where it was you came from...

before she sets
the law on you.

Edwina, tell her.

Tell her what?

You tried time and time again
to harm me...

but at Mass this morning,
I said, "I'll say nothing.

"Let her marry him
and get her hands on his money."

You?

"And more power to her."

I don't know why.

Maybe I lack for poison
inside me.

Then Con got that letter.

You were wrong about one thing.

I'm finishing my lunch.
It's lovely.

You went to so much trouble...

leaving
all those papers around...

for Maddie O'Hara
to spy through.

No wonder you wanted her
as a maid.

She was your best
character witness.

The mistake you made was taking
the name of a real person.

If you hadn't done that...

all I had was the word of
that young Navy officer...

that met you in the brothel
in the south of France.

He said you could do
more tricks than a conjuror.

Oh:

The holy sister,
what she's trying to say...

She says she's going to faint.

That young officer
said that thanks to you...

the ship missed its maneuvers,
but the crew didn't miss theirs.

Now, what did he mean by that?

He was being kind.
I remember him well.

He said he wanted
to go around the world...

and so I let him.

I don't think
I'll stay for pudding.

Good-bye, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

It was magical.

- No:
- Godfrey.

- Godfrey.
- She's not to go.

I won't have it.
I won't let her.

Child, are you mad?
You have the cheek of you.

Now sit down
and have your dinner.

- Lunch:
- Whatever: Sit:

I don't care what she's done
or who she is.

I'm that fond of her.

Are you, Godfrey?

I said sit down:

I won't say good-bye to you,
Miss O'Hare.

We still have
unfinished business.

That's the last
we'll see of her.

Godfrey:

Miss Grubb: Come here to me.

Mammy, what is it?

Miss O'Hare's boat. Look.

Oh, my God:
What are we going to do?

Yeah, the police:
Miss Grubb, get the police.

Tell them Miss O'Hare...

Oh, the saints protect her
this day. Ohh.

Ahoy, there:
Is there anybody onboard?

Ahoy: Is anybody there?

Oh, thank heavens.

I've been on the lake
all night.

I lost my sense of direction.

Stand by for a line.

Thanks.

Can you please tow me back
to Kilshannon?

My car's still there.

Where's Miss O'Hare?
Is she below?

She was on the boat with you
last evening...

when it left its mooring.

Yes, she, uh... she got off.

- Got off?
- Got off?

Excuse me. Would you...
If you don't mind.

Am I speaking to the man
from Limerick?

A man from Limerick, yes.

Chief Inspector Kilkelly.

Well, my name is
Mrs. Doyle-Counihan...

and I saw the woman
who's in there...

going on
to Miss O'Hare's boat.

And my son saw it,
and Miss Grubb saw it.

And if I know
the ladies on the hill...

every one of them saw it.

- Yes, I saw it.
- I saw it, too.

Well, Sergeant,
could you take the ladies...

somewhere comfortable
where they can make a statement?

There's not room in there
to swing a crippen.

I tell you this.

If Miss O'Hare wasn't on
that boat when it was found...

then she was drowned off of it.

"I have business
to finish with you yet."

That's what that woman said.

And now we know the sort
of black business it was.

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan,
we don't have to get excitable.

- I'm saying...
- Madam:

This crowd has their ears cocked
for every word we say.

Now, let's not be reckless.

Well, let the police
walk tippy-toes all they like...

but I'm going to say
what's true...

and I won't put a tooth in it.

My friend,
the friend of all of us here...

Katherine O'Hare...

is at the bottom of the lake
this minute...

because
that woman put her there.

And God forgive me...

Miss O'Hare
said she was in danger...

and I wouldn't believe her.

None of us believed her,
not even me.

I was a Judas.
I turned my back on her.

And now
there's been a murder done.

That's true.
It's been said at last.

- Murder.
- Did she say murder?

That woman murdered Miss O'Hare.

It's true. It's true.

She murdered her.

- Murder?
- Murder?

Broken-down pier, you say.

That'll be here. Kilgarven Quay.

Three miles
to the nearest village.

Are you saying that Miss O'Hare
left her vessel...

and walked to a place
where you wouldn't meet...

an ass and cart
in an hour's walk?

Yes. Why not?

Why not? Why should she?

Well, it was... I told you,
we... we quarreled...

and she said if I didn't
get off the boat, she would.

Yet you were the one
who remained onboard.

I told you,
it was starting to rain.

Why should I walk out
into a downpour?

Why should she?

Why should Miss O'Hare
walk into a downpour?

Because she was stupid,
that's why.

Was stupid, Mrs. Broome?

I... I was talking
about yesterday.

But you do admit that when
you went aboard the vessel...

it was you who untied
the mooring ropes.

I wanted to talk to her.

On a boat, a person
can't very well walk away.

Right. Right over there.

That's it.

Bring the boats in, lads:

By God,
I think they've found her.

This bag and its contents...

were found in the water
off Kilgarven Quay.

It belongs...
or belonged to Miss O'Hare.

These are her house keys.

Any idea how it came
to be in the water?

She dropped it in the water
as she got off the boat.

You didn't mention this
previously.

Well... I forgot.

She just dropped her purse
in the water...

and made no attempt
to retrieve it?

She was in a hurry.

She did say, "Oh, shit."

Mrs. Broome...

you are to be detained
on a holding charge...

of removing property,
to wit, a motor cruiser...

without the owner's permission.

You will be removed forthwith
to Limerick Garda station...

where a more serious charge
may be preferred against you.

The... the door's opening.

Edwina: Edwina:

There's the murderess:

- Murderess:
- Edwina:

- Murderess:
- Edwina:

Murderess:

I was not in the least
surprised...

to find
that the woman was a...

No, I won't say it.

But she tried to get
her claws on my son.

And when poor Miss O'Hare...

the Lord have mercy on her,
got suspicious...

well, that was
her death warrant.

A woman, whom we took into
our community...

our homes, and our hearts.

And what was in her heart...

a heart as black
as it was English...

but murder?

But I say to ye...

in the name
of our all-Ioving Savior...

that murder will out.

Over there.

Right. Take her back, Jim.

Not much luck.

Let's move our sweep
this side along the west.

Right there:

...of the murdered woman,
Miss O'Hare.

- Dear God:
- We will now proceed to sail...

over the point
where she was last seen.

I appreciate that
since the Troubles...

a good murder
is hard to come by.

When one does come along...

people want to make
the most of it...

but this is going too far.

And who the hell thinks he knows
how to print a handbill?

And this woman,
the lowest of the low...

is charged with what?

With taking what belongs
to someone else...

and they call that a crime?

Ah, it isn't even a venial sin,
not in this town.

And we have here today...

none other than Mr. Comiskey...

the Minister of Agriculture...

representing
the Minister of Justice...

and still
the police take no action.

They want, if you please,
to find a dead body.

Yeah, a body.

Well, all I can say is
they're very particular.

Good woman yourself:

Well, the people of Kilshannon
demand justice.

Now you're talking:

We... we have had 700 years
of English tyranny...

and now let
this meeting demand...

the rope be on the other neck
for a change.

Thank you, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

And now let us say a decade
of the Rosary...

for the repose
of the soul of a woman...

who was a saint
when she was with us...

and, alas,
is now a saint in earnest.

I take it
there are no objections...

from the committee...

given the nonsacred nature
of our surroundings.

- None at all, Canon.
- Fire away, fire away.

Mrs. Colgan?

One of the sorrowful mysteries.

- Mrs. Purdieu?
- By all means.

- Mrs. Lawless?
- Yes, yes, of course.

Miss O'Hare.

Miss O'Hare:

Oh, don't mind me.

Water. Get some water.

No. Power's Gold Label.

Such an aggravating young woman
I never met.

She came on to my boat
and shanghaied me.

Now there's the town
she knows something about.

She carried on about
me making a show of her...

in front of
the Doyle-Counihans...

and all belonging to them.

God almighty, for a strap
of an Englishwoman...

she'd talk the hind leg
off a donkey.

So by the time
we got to Kilgarven Quay...

l... I was so moidered...

- That you went ashore.
- I did.

I walked two miles
in the pours of rain.

A cart from the creamery
at Portumna gave me a lift...

to my cousin Maggie's house
at Terryglass...

and it was the best day's outing
I ever had.

I'm going to live with her.
And why wouldn't I?

She's a widow and by herself,
the same as I am.

I only came back
to sell the boat...

and pack up
me bits and pieces...

and look at the commotion
I've walked into.

Ha: They're gone...

and sorra a body
will shed a tear.

That Miss O'Hare...

I don't know.
I gave that woman...

so much of me heart's blood
over the years.

I'm glad to see the back of her.

And as for the other rip...

Did she turn you
against women, son?

Only against her, Mammy.

Do you know, she actually
asked me to go back to work.

Go along with you.

Pardon me.
Will you see Gaffney the lawyer?

I'm sure she will.

And it's Mr. Gaffney,
by the way.

Do tell me.

And to what, Mr. Gaffney,
do I owe the...

Pleasure, ma'am?
No pleasure at all.

Alas, business rather.

The business of
Mrs. Gaffney's new fur coat.

The man has drink took.

He has, yes,
and will again shortly.

However, I was alluding, ma'am,
to the prosperous time ahead.

To get to the nub of the matter,
I am instructed by my client...

known to you
as Mrs. Edwina Broome...

to take action
against yourself...

the Reverend Canon Murtagh...

and the ladies
of your committee...

singly and en masse...

on the grounds of slander
and criminal libel.

You what?

Now, now. Forgive me.

Did you and the ladies
of Widows' Peak...

not call my client a murderess?

Did you not give interviews
to the papers?

Did you not personally
print handbills...

accusing her of a crime...

that carries with it
a sentence of death?

No. Those handbills
were Maddie O'Hara.

No. All I did was...

Put her up to it.
Yes, I have that.

Dear me, it seems as if
all of you conspired...

to put a rope
around my client's neck.

Having called the tune,
you must pay the piper.

We'll do nothing of the sort.

The brazen nerve of her.

A woman that's a mockery
to her s-e-x.

No better than a common...

I wouldn't repeat that
if I were you...

seeing as we only have
Miss O'Hare's word for it.

It's called hearsay...

and, in any case, the judge
will rule as inadmissible...

any attack
on my client's character.

The judge?

Oh, my God.

It's a good job
you're comfortably off...

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

At least,
unlike the other ladies...

you will have
a penny or two left.

Oh... oh, the rip.

Oh, the rip:

How dare she? Oh:

Now, now, now, woman.
None of your ullagoning.

You ought to go down
on your benders and give thanks.

Haven't you a treasure
that neither the plaintiff...

nor any woman can take from you?

A treasure?

To be sure you have...
the love of a good son.

Hasn't she, Master Godfrey?

Aye, a boy's affection
for his mother.

All else will fade,
but never that.

Godfrey:

Godfrey:

Godfrey:

Bye-bye, Mammy:

I'm free:

I'm free:

Help:

Help:

Help:

Mrs. Clancy.

Yes, Mr. Clancy.

Time for dinner, Mrs. Clancy.

Ready for dinner, dear?

Oh...

Ah, lamb, what is it?

I told her. I warned her.
Gin will do it every time.

Oh, be quiet.

But what's wrong?

I just remembered
when you told everyone...

that the baby died
of scarlet fever.

I actually believed it,
and I still do.

Oh, no.

That's because I'm Irish, lovey.

We can never resist
a nice sad story.

And don't remind me
about Kilshannon.

It's on my conscience.

Why on earth should it be?

There are times...

not all the time, sometimes...

when I feel
we were a bit hard on them.

Well, they were
a bit hard on us...

weren't they, Mother...

thirty years ago?