Original subtitles

Jack, I hope this isn't going to take too long.

I've got an enormous amount of work to do.

This is more important.

Right, here we are.

What do you think?

Don't you dare say home sweet home.

Would I?

Jack Maddox, you have hidden depths

of appalling sentimentality.

So you don't want me

to carry you over the threshold, then?

No I don't.

Well, what is wrong with my flat?

we've been perfectly happy there

since we returned from Paris.

It's smaller than this, the views aren't as good,

and the location leaves a lot to be desired.

It's in a splendid location.

Yes.

Except that there's this appalling workshop underneath,

and people coming and going all day.

The phone never stops ringing.

You don't want to live above the shop, do you?

I don't want you to live above the shop.

Just now and again, I'd like to have my wife to myself?

On one condition.

What?

New curtains.

New carpets, new furniture, new-

New bank manager.

Bonjour, madame.

Bonjour.

Oh, Jack is perfectly happy

with his new job at the studio.

You know how passionate he is about film, Desmond.

Well, he is a little nervous, of course.

It's only natural.

And you.

Tell me how you feel about your new situation.

I'm perfectly happy.

Truly?

Oh, well, I'm a little nervous

about being the sole designer for the House of Eliott.

Never doubt your ability, Beatrice.

You've always been one of the designers.

Yes.

And it may not be forever.

If this year is as successful as last,

you may find yourself in the position

to take on another designer.

Yes, that's true.

Maison Gilles has five.

That man really made an impression on you, didn't he?

He certainly did.

It's so many ideas.

Desmond, do you think it would be foolish of me

to start expanding the business now?

No.

You don't think I'm being overambitious?

It depends.

Well, it wouldn't be anything wildly extravagant.

Let me take a look at your affairs

and we'll make a decision.

Oh, but there shouldn't be any problems there,

-really, should- -No, of course not.

Just one or two details that need examining.

Nothing for you to worry about.

Oi, what are you doing?

Stitching the lining.

Yeah, but you're catching the back

of the tamberwork stitch.

Yes, so that it won't show through the front.

Oh yeah.

So she makes one sudden move, pulls the lining,

rips the thread, and all the beads fall to the floor

like flipping hailstones.

-Oh. -Yeah. Oh.

Sorry.

Almost worth doing just to see it happen.

Well, I must say,

this is the first establishment I've worked in

where sloppiness and mistakes are considered a joke.

Oh, go on, it's been put right now.

It shouldn't have happened in the first place.

Your job, were you properly trained,

is to ensure that mistakes do not occur.

I just did.

I beg your pardon?

Nothing.

Good morning, Miss Eliott.

Good morning, Mrs Ranby.

Will Miss Harmon's outfit be ready for collection tomorrow?

I should think so.

I'd rather depends on Tilly.

Just a little finishing to do, Miss Bea.

As a matter of fact, it'll be ready by this afternoon.

Hello, can I help you?

I don't know. Who are you?

I'm Beatrice Eliott.

I'm afraid Jack Maddox doesn't work there anymore.

Really? Why not?

Well, he's become a moving picture director.

He doesn't take portraits anymore.

Oh, but he will be for me.

We're old chums.

Never mind, I'll phone him at home.

Oh, is he still at that ghastly little flat in Park Street,

do you know?

Yes he is, and so am I.

I beg your pardon?

I'm his wife.

Oh.

But I thought you said your name was Eliott.

It is.

My word, how terribly modern.

Well, in that case,

I'd better leave my card with you, hadn't I?

Clara Rhodes.

But since I'm not quite as modern as you,

he'll probably remember me as Clara Morson.

Tell him to get in touch, would you?

Yes, I will.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

So nice to have met you, Mrs Maddox.

Welcome home, darling.

I have appalling depths of sentimentality?

Sorry, but...

Oh, Jack, no!

You're supposed to carry me in.

I know, I know, just savouring the moment.

Welcome home.

Jack.

I know I've made a special celebratory meal,

and before we sit down to eat it,

well, there's something I have to tell you.

What?

I can't cook.

I'm so sorry, Desmond.

I thought you'd gone home.

Ralph.

No, I'm still here.

Well, I'll say good night, then.

Night.

No, honestly, I like cutlets like that.

Jack, can we please change the subject?

You haven't told me a thing

about how you got on at the studio today.

Your meal left me speechless.

You'll love it.

It's a tale of passion, betrayal, skullduggery.

Innocence lost against the background

of the mystical Orient,

and it features a small Bactrian camel,

on loan from Regents Park Zoo.

It'll be all right.

It'll be all right in the end, please God.

Lord knows it's better than taking portrait photographs.

Oh gosh, I forgot.

What?

I have a message for you.

Sorry.

Who the devil is Clara Rhodes?

She said you'd probably remember her as Clara Morson.

What?

Good Lord.

What did she want?

Her portrait taken, I believe.

Well, she can whistle for that.

Well, she seemed terribly certain that you would do it

for old time's sake.

Did she, now?

What old times, Jack?

She's an old flame of mine,

more years ago than I care to remember.

and I am not going to take her photograph.

Well, you'd better telephone her

in the morning and tell her.

I don't suppose you'd do that for me, would you?

No.

Just because I'm your wife

does not mean I'm still your receptionist.

Not much of a cook, either.

Oh, darling, don't be so serious about it.

Just thought it might be nice

to have an up to date portrait, that's all.

And I'm certainly not going to argue with you about it

over the telephone.

Bring that nice wife of yours over to dinner,

and we can argue about it then, hm?

How about Saturday?

Yes, of course you must ask Beatrice, and then call me back.

Can't tell you how much

I'm looking forward to seeing you again.

Goodbye.

Hurry for the bus.

See you tomorrow.

-Bye. -Bye.

Did you get in touch with your chum Clara, by the way?

I did indeed.

Refused to take no over the telephone.

Invited us to dinner so she could bully me face to face.

Dinner?

Oh, really.

I said I'd have to ask you.

I was looking for an excuse to put her off.

Why put her off?

Might be a rather entertaining evening.

Then again, it might not.

Jack, I am not in the least bit jealous,

if that's what you're thinking.

No, I'm not.

Well, then.

What's she really like?

Ah, so you are curious.

It's perfectly natural.

You'll just have to wait to meet her face to face,

make up your own mind.

Wouldn't you be better off drawing at that desk?

I don't think so.

She's not coming back, Bea.

I'm perfectly happy where I am, thank you.

Oh, it'll go through, you mark my words.

They won't stop until the housing act becomes law,

and then where will we be?

So when may we expect to see

this film of yours in the cinema, Mr Maddox?

In the autumn, I hope.

Two and a half million rabbit hutches by 1939,

and who's going to pay for them?

That's what I want to know.

That Ramsey McDonald has got a lot to answer for.

Labour government indeed.

Well, I had thought, actually,

that it was Neville Chamberlain

who introduced the housing project, didn't he?

Well, yes, of course.

But if he'd-

Donald, dear, don't be tedious.

Now, Beatrice, tell me something.

Is Jack tied up at this film studio of his 24 hours a day?

No.

So there's no real reason

why he shouldn't take my portrait, is there?

All right.

I give in.

Anything for a quiet life.

Oh, aren't men boring when they give in so easily?

Donald's been taking the least line of resistance for years.

Drives me to distraction.

I must say, Beatrice,

I've been promising myself a visit to your place

for simply ages.

Who's your vendeurs?

Well, we don't have one as yet.

If we're getting to gossip,

may I suggest we remove to the sitting room

where we can gossip properly.

Nancy's quite right, Beatrice.

A good vendeurs is worth their weight in gold.

Yes, but I suspect finding a good vendeurs

is easier said than done.

I suppose the trouble is that

anybody who's worth having at all

has already got a certain loyalty

to their own fashion house.

Yes, exactly.

Now, Beatrice.

What I'm asking myself is what have you done to Jack Maddox?

Absolutely nothing.

He's always been like that.

Jolly well wasn't like that when I knew him.

Mad as a hatter.

He's become positively respectable.

What did you threaten him with?

Not marrying him.

You tried that, didn't you?

Trouble is, the swine took me up on it.

Jack broke off their engagement.

Please don't be alarmed, Beatrice.

We were mere babes in arms at the time.

Nancy, do try one of these.

They're absolutely delicious.

I felt such a fool.

That's all, Jack.

I don't see why.

It was years ago.

Yes, but I didn't know about it.

Is there anyone else I should know about?

All right.

Amelia Holstop.

We were engaged for a weekend before she threw me over.

For the gardener's boy, as I remember.

It was a shattering experience.

I was only six at the time.

And then when I was eight, I had Scarlet fever.

Mother bought a special nurse in for me.

I did ask her to marry me.

-And then- -Yes, all right, Jack.

Point taken.

Clara and I were engaged for a month

before I came to my senses

and realised that hell would come soon enough when I died.

There was no need to marry into it.

I couldn't guarantee the sort of lifestyle she wanted

and she made it quite clear that photography wasn't her idea

of a suitable profession for me.

Mind you, I nearly had to emigrate.

Really?

Her father came looking for me with a horse whip.

What?

He was livid.

Well, it was understandable.

He'd come that close to getting her off his hands.

You're so unkind.

Me?

Donald was probably a human being

before she got her hands on him.

Jack, I disagree.

Apart from that one awkward moment,

I found her very entertaining company

and it was a very good dinner.

You're just easily pleased, that's all.

Oh, I know that.

Has anyone seen Miss Eliott this morning?

Oh, I saw Mr Maddox go into his own studio a while ago.

She might be in there with him.

Thank you.

Is that how Miss Eliott usually asks for it to be done?

Yes, it is.

Sorry to take so long.

Things have got rather chaotic and...

Clara Boa, perhaps.

Clara Rhodes, I think not.

N- Oh, God, you're almost as stuffy as Donald.

I was only trying to raise a smile.

Clara, just think how you'd like to present yourself

and then, well, present yourself.

Thank you.

Have you really changed that much, Jack?

Probably.

Donald's changed in the last few years.

I mean, I know he has to keep abreast of politics

in his line of work, but he will go-

Quite still now, please.

Thank you.

Try and relax a little for the next one.

Clara!

There, that's better.

You had me worried for a minute.

Thought you'd forgotten how to have fun altogether.

There's a time and place for everything.

Oh, isn't there, though?

I still find you most attractive, Jack.

You don't mind, do you?

Yes I do.

I'm married to a woman I love very much indeed.

Now, if you've come to have your portrait taken,

I suggest you sit down and we'll carry on.

Otherwise, you'd better go.

You pompous, patronising little...

How dare you speak to me like that!

I can remember when...

I'm sorry.

Let's forget about it, shall we?

It's just that I don't...

It doesn't matter.

Whatever my problems are,

they're no excuse for that sort of behaviour, are they?

You've taken all the portraits I need.

I'll go and get changed.

Bonjour, madam.

Miss Eliott, ma'am.

I'm so glad you could come.

It's lovely to see you again, Clara.

Please sit down.

Thank you.

You may bring tea now.

Well, I'm fascinated.

Your message sounded so cryptic.

I know.

I should have written it on rice paper

so you could have eaten it and destroyed the evidence.

Why, what is it?

Alice Burgoyne.

Who?

Oh, Beatrice, I'm disappointed in you.

Alice Burgoyne, leading vendeurs at Hazars.

Well, I have it on good authority,

from my vendeurs at Hazars, in fact,

that Alice Burgoyne would not be averse

to a change in situation,

should the right situation present itself, of course.

Really?

My authority also tells me that Mrs Burgoyne

has a very impressive list of clients.

They do say she takes tea at the royal enclosure.

Do they indeed?

I just thought you might be interested.

Alice Burgoyne.

Of course I know of you, Miss Eliott.

This evening?

One moment.

I could possibly be free by six o'clock.

I look forward to it.

Goodbye.

Whilst it's very pleasant

to be invited out to tea, Miss Eliott,

I admit I'm most curious as to the reason.

I assume Mrs Rhodes did not refer you to me

as a potential client.

Hardly.

Then...

Mrs Burgoyne, if the House of Eliott

is to continue to grow,

I recognise the services of a vendeurs are essential.

I would like to offer you that position.

At the moment, I can only take on one vendeurs,

but at a later date, the position

would become that of a premier vendeurs.

Without wishing to appear rude, Miss Eliott, why me?

You have an excellent reputation, Mrs Burgoyne.

And I'm very happy in my present position.

Then you're most fortunate.

However, forgive me

if I appear a little abrupt, Miss Eliott,

this is the last thing I expected.

It may be that I would consider a move.

Do you need an answer immediately?

No.

I would rather you consider the proposition

very carefully indeed.

Thank you.

I haven't sat down and done a detailed costing,

but I would estimate about £500 would be enough, don't you?

I would think so.

And if we can release that from the investments,

then we could make a really good staff on the improvements.

Yes.

Oh, Desmond, there's a but in your voice.

Beatrice, can you give me a week or two

until I've seen to one or two things?

There are a couple of matters I should attend to

before we can consider it.

Well yes, of course, but what?

Yes, come in.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

There's a Mrs Burgoyne to see you, Miss Eliott.

Oh.

I have to be leaving anyway.

I should telephone you very soon.

I would just like to have a word with Joseph, if I may.

Joseph.

Excuse me, Ms. Eliott.

Goodbye, Desmond.

Florence, please show Mrs Burgoyne in, thank you.

Mrs Burgoyne.

Miss Eliott.

What a nice surprise.

Do sit down.

Thank you.

This is your office, I presume?

Yes.

So where does Miss Evangeline work?

In Paris.

She's left you?

Well, she's designing for Maison Gilles at the moment.

I understood she did most of the designing here.

No.

I take it you've come about the offer I made you?

I'm still considering it, do you understand?

Yes, of course,

But I should be most interested

to see round your premises.

Yes, certainly.

Mrs Rhodes tells me Lady Cumberland is one of your clients.

I'm acquainted with Her Ladyship, yes,

but I'm sure you appreciate it would be quite wrong of me

to discuss details of my clientele

with anyone other than my employer.

Of course.

Let me show you around.

But Tilly said it was all right.

Yes, she probably did.

Now oversew the seams properly.

We never oversew till after the final fitting.

We do now.

All raw edges will be oversewn

at each stage of the making up.

Oh, that's daft.

What do we want to go wasting time like that for?

Miss Bea's never wanted it done like that,

and no one knows the difference in the end.

I shall know when it's my opinion

that counts in this workroom, not yours.

Now look what you've done.

I never started it.

Joseph, would you excuse me

for just one moment please?

Yes.

Of course, Miss Eliott.

Thank you.

I did think, well I assumed, you had much larger premises.

Oh, but we're in the process of acquiring more space.

Here are the plans.

They're well underway.

And they include separate rooms for the vendeurs, do they?

I beg your pardon?

Miss Eliott, the art of a vendeurs

is to cultivate the acquaintance

of a certain quality of lady,

and then to look after her requirements of the house

in the manner to which she is accustomed.

Whoever you appoint as vendeurs will need her own reception

and private fitting room.

It's the very least her clientele expect.

Does that mean then that-

I'm sorry.

There really is not the room here for my ladies,

and as I said, I'm perfectly happy in my present position.

Well, thank you for being so direct with me.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mrs Burgoyne.

Mrs Ranby.

When you finish in here today,

come and see me in my office.

Thank you.

I didn't-

I don't care who or what it was about.

It does not happen again.

Do you understand?

I will not have that sort of behaviour in my workroom.

I should think so.

I thought everyone had gone home.

Well, yes, I...

Bonsoir.

Look out!

Have you got a job, Miss?

Sweeping the floor?

Making the tea?

Designing the odd gown?

Do you really need to ask?

Thank you.

Am I allowed to ask why?

Well, I suppose when all is said and done,

I'm just too arrogant to work for someone else.

However good my work is,

Maison Gilles will always be Maison Gilles

and not the House of Eliott.

Gilles Caragnas may be the sun,

but I'm not terribly keen on being a whizzy little planet.

Not professionally and not...

Well, whatever.

Evie?

It's all right.

He didn't take advantage of me.

In fact, thinking about it,

I'm not quite sure who seduced who.

Bea, don't look so stern.

We had a wonderful few weeks and then it was over.

That's all.

And you've no regrets?

No, not professionally and not in any other way either.

Gilles was incredible to work for,

but we're not that bad either.

We have a long way to go

before we achieve that kind of success.

But you'll see.

We'll give Gilles Caragnac something to think about.

It's so good to have you back.

Oh, it's good to be back, Tilly.

And I'm gonna keep this for specials.

No you will not.

It's for fun.

Oh look at it!

All right, ladies, back to work, if you please.

Come along, then.

What are we doing?

Who are we doing it for?

Tilly, tell me the gossip this instant.

Sir Desmond, Miss Eliott.

Thank you, Joseph.

Hello, Beatrice Eliott?

Having considered the evidence set before us,

it is the verdict of this court that the deceased,

Desmond Albert Gillespie,

by the consumption of noxious poisons, did take his own life

when the balance of his mind was disturbed.

Suicide?

Makes you realise how little you know someone.

That's the worst thing, really.

I thought that Desmond-

We all did, Evie.

Miss Eliott.

Ralph Saroyan.

We haven't met.

I was Sir Desmond's partner.

Oh, yes, of course.

-How do you do? -How do you do?

I realise this is not the time or the place,

but if you could call me at your convenience.

There are matters that need to be discussed.

Yes, I understand.

Thank you.

Good day.

It's an awful day.

So how does this affect you?

I beg your pardon?

Desmond's death.

I was just wondering where it leaves the House of Eliott.

It leaves it without one of

the best friends it ever had, Jack,

and it leaves me without a godfather.

Oh, Evie, Jack didn't mean it like that.

I know, I'm sorry, Jack.

It's all right. It's my fault.

I didn't mean to be insensitive.

I do think it's important that you find out

sooner rather than later where you stand.

Your fairs are very tied up with Gillespie Saroyan.

Yes, I know.

Well, I'm going to see Mr Saroyan tomorrow.

Though I don't see there should be

any problems there, though.

What problems could Desmond have had

that forced him to poison himself in his own office?

Sir Desmond had a, well, how can I put this,

a somewhat individual approach to investments, Miss Eliott.

So much so that we're at some exertion

just to trace the full extent of his portfolios.

I don't understand.

No.

Neither, my dear young lady, do we, as yet.

But we shall.

Rest assured, we shall.

You will, I take it,

be taking over Sir Desmond's affairs personally?

Along with my colleagues, of course.

In matters such as these,

a great deal of consultation has to be made.

I see.

When may I expect to hear from you, Mr Saroyan?

I have my own investment plans waiting, you see.

Please. All in good time.

The mills of probate, Miss Eliott,

like the mills of God, they grind exceedingly slow.

Once again, we're at the mercy of someone else.

It's so infuriating not knowing anything.

And now when we've gone so far ahead with our plans,

we might not get our money for months.

Well, if worst comes to worst,

we can always take over Jack's old studio.

I beg your pardon?

Bea, it would be perfect.

It's the other side of the hallway.

we could have all the public bits on one side,

all the working bits on the other.

Not quite perfect, Evie.

It's in such a ghastly state,

the refurbishments will cost a fortune.

Besides, I couldn't do that to Jack.

Who's it from?

Desmond's solicitors.

He's left me some money.

Bea, that's horrible.

It makes me feel like a vulture.

Evie, well, Desmond probably made his will out years ago,

and you were his goddaughter.

I shouldn't feel badly about it.

I really miss him.

I know.

I know it sounds silly.

I spent so much of my life without him.

Bea, he helped us say much.

That's the answer, isn't it?

The cut jet beads are terribly elegant.

But I think, on the whole, I prefer the glass bugles.

Yes. Yes.

The glass bugles.

Yes, Mrs Costain-Jones.

Splendid.

I'll call in for a final fitting a week on Friday, then.

Friday, yes, that'll be fine.

Good.

Good day.

Cut jet beating on the Costain-Jones gown.

Really?

What did you say this was?

Turkey casserole.

It's very good.

Thank you.

Jack.

You know your own studio?

Intimately.

Have you decide what you're going to do with it yet?

Me?

It is your studio.

No it's not.

I spent the entire loan I raised on it,

so legally, it's yours.

I rather assumed you were going to take it over.

I just feel awkward about it, that's all.

Isn't what Evie planned to do with the money

Desmond left her?

Well, we had talked about it, but-

Then do it. Do it.

It's served its purpose, as far as I'm concerned.

Where are we taking it, then?

As you can see, all the girls are respectable,

and of an age to take employment straight away.

Thank you very much.

This is Mrs Randy, who is in overall charge of the workroom.

And this is Miss Watkins, our head seamstress,

and she will supervise your day-to-day work.

Both Miss Watkins and Mrs Ranby

will teach you everything you need to know.

Who knows, if you work hard and get on well,

perhaps one day you'll be showing

the new apprentices what to do.

Welcome to the House of Eliott.

Right, girls.

I think the first thing we need to do

is give you your new overalls,

and then find out all your names.

Pass this down.

Miss Eliott?

Yes?

I was just wondering,

who's going to be the new head seamstress?

What new head seamstress?

You mean Tilly's going to manage both workrooms?

I think Tilly can cope perfectly well, don't you?

Yes, Miss Eliott.

Besides, now we have all these wonderful new space.

The first thing we need is a vendeurs.

Mrs Desforges, I'm so sorry I'm late.

Oh, how lovely.

That's not mine.

Mrs Costain-Jones.

Yes, but that's not mine.

I wanted the glass bugle beading.

But Mrs Ranby-

Oh, for heaven sake!

I wanted the damn dress for this weekend.

Tilly, you have ruined Mrs Costain-Jones gown.

I specifically said the glass bugles, not the cut jet.

What on earth do you think you were doing?

Very sorry.

Sorry?

Well, I would have thought-

Oh, I suppose it doesn't matter that much.

Give it to me and I'll try it on anyway.

Oh yes.

Clara.

How lovely to see you.

But I wasn't expecting you.

Oh, neither was anybody else.

Oh, sit down.

Thank you.

How are you?

I'm fine.

Beatrice.

The truth is I'm beginning to find Hazars a trifle stuffy.

I rather thought I'd like to take a look

at the Eliott autumn collection.

Well, why don't I show you myself?

Thank you.

This way.

Ah, goodbye, Mrs Costain-Jones.

Goodbye.

Mrs Rhodes.

Mrs Costain-Jones.

Jack told me you'd finished your extensions.

Really? When was that?

Oh, when he came round with my photographs days ago,

We haven't as yet found a vendeurs.

Didn't you get in touch with Alice Burgoyne?

Yes I did, but unfortunately, she turned me down.

Nevermind.

Now we have the right facilities for a vendeurs.

I'm sure it won't be long before we find someone suitable.

My dear, you must approach Alice again.

Everyone's after her.

Why?

Because she's made it quite clear

she wants to leave Hazars.

They really are dreadful people.

I don't know why I go there.

They've no idea what she's worth.

And you see, someone of her calibre

won't stand for being treated as just another employee.

But Clara, she has already turned us down.

Why should she be interested in us now if she wasn't before?

She'll be special here, Beatrice.

She'll be appreciated.

Honestly, you're mad if you don't try.

Half London's fighting over her clientele.

Madame, there seem to be a great many things

which appear to be beyond your control at the moment,

including your clients.

Having been frustrated in two appointments here,

Mrs Pemberton now patronises Lucille.

Countess Nikolai has gone back to Paris

because you upset her,

and now Mrs Desforges.

Mrs Burgoyne, your value to Hazars is determined

by the quality of your list of clients.

I suggest you improve the quality of your list

before your value...

It's in your hands.

Alice Burgoyne.

Miss Eliott.

I'll just consult my diary.

We would very much like you to consider working for us.

I don't know.

I'm sure we can agree favourable terms.

Oh yes?

We can offer you £100 a year,

plus the usual commission, naturally.

That hardly matches my present salary, Miss Eliott.

To make such an important move,

I really couldn't accept less than 150 pounds.

However, as you've promised me

the position of premier vendeurs,

to show good faith, I might concede a little.

£125.

I cannot accept less.

£2, 10 shillings a week,

And a contract for a year's employment.

If that year were to start on Monday next.

Very well.

Right.

Thank you, Alice.

'TIl Monday.

£2 10 a week.

Bea, are we planning to rob the bank of England?

Are we mad?

Think of it as an investment, Evie.

Alice Burgoyne's list of clients.

Just better include all the crowned heads in Europe

for £2 10 a week.

Yes. Come in.

Yes, Florence.

I'm sorry, Miss Eliott, but it just won't do.

What won't do, Florence?

Miss Watkins.

I've tried and tried, but can I get any sense into her?

No I can't.

Why? What's the matter now?

Maybe it's me that should have more patience,

but I am used to professionals, Miss Eliott.

Now I'm not saying Miss Watkins does it on purpose.

She just doesn't know any better.

And it's me that has to sort it all out.

What is Tilly doing?

What do you have to sort out, Florence?

Well, the business with

the Costain-Jones gown for a start.

What business?

She put the wrong beads on it.

What?

Now that's very serious.

I think Tilly should be here to explain herself.

Tilly?

Yes.

Tilly, Florence tells us that you put the wrong beads

on a gown for Mrs Costain-Jones.

Is that right?

Well, yes, I...

I'm sorry.

This is very serious.

What has happened here?

You see Miss Watkins just isn't up-

I thought Mrs Ranby said cut jet beads.

That's because you weren't listening.

Look, where is the dress now?

Oh, the customer took it anyway.

She quite liked the beading that was done,

but that's not the point, is it?

No, the point is, Florence and Tilly,

I really have had enough of these differences

between you two.

Yes, Miss Bea.

Yes, Miss Eliott.

What is going on with them?

Lord knows.

Can I have two slices, please?

So, how's it been?

It's not the same anymore.

Not since you left.

Who have they got as the new head cutter?

Miss Harriet Simmons.

She's awful, Florence.

She heaves into the workroom with her bosom out to here.

Won't allow no talking or nothing.

'Course, old Miss Webb thinks she's God's gift.

And how is the spider?

Bad as ever.

She's really got it in for me since you left.

Don't know why,

but I ain't going to put up with it much longer.

Really?

Oh yes.

Soon as I see another job

with the same sort of money, I'm off.

What about a better job, Elsie?

Like head seamstress?

Show me what door to knock on.

House of Eliott.

What, don't they have one already?

Not a proper one.

Just a jumped up little stitcher called Tilly.

Can't see her lasting.

That's getting some, isn't it?

I work at the Melbourne hotel.

Tonnes of crumbs.

Pigeons think I'm Father Christmas.

I bet.

D'you work round here?

House of Eliott.

I'm head seamstress.

All I could get is buttons.

I don't think they go for them much, do you?

Eh?

The pigeons.

True.

Not well known for eating buttons, pigeons.

Norman.

Norman Foss.

Tilly Watkins.

Miss.

Pleased to meet you.

Likewise.

Haven't seen you before in the garden.

Well, I don't come here much, do I?

What's so different about today, then?

= Today, the air smells better out here.

Yeah.

Gotta get back sometime, though.

Will you be getting a breath of fresh air tomorrow, then?

I might do.

Bye.

I understood that when you joined us, Alice,

that you would bring with you a list of valuable clients.

There are very few people in here that I've ever heard of.

In fact, there are very few people in here at all.

I'm sorry, Miss Eliott.

A number of my clients proved more loyal to Hazars

than they did to me.

I am after all merely the agent, not the supplier,

but I'm sure in time I can rue back

the sort of clients you expect.

I shall look forward to that.

I understand how you must feel, Mrs Burgoyne,

but I wouldn't worry about it.

I'm used to Miss Beatrice's manner by now,

especially when she's upset.

Her husband,

well, it's not my business.

I mustn't gossip, must I?

Do you know Clara Rhodes?

She was a customer at Hazars.

Oh, hello.

Good night, Tilly.

Good night.

So are you finished for the day, then?

Yeah, thank goodness.

Just passing, was you?

On the way back for the evening shift.

Oh.

You not got your pigeons with you, then?

No.

They're in the pantry, waiting for the chef to pluck them.

...would be delighted to make for you, Mrs Desforges.

Thank you.

Ah, here she is.

Mrs Desforges, this is my sister, Beatrice Eliott.

How do you do?

Very pleased to meet you?

I was just about to take Mrs Desforges through

to meet our vendeurs.

Yes, I've heard you've taken someone on.

Anyone I know?

Alice Burgoyne.

Well, I'm terribly sorry.

I've wasted your time, Miss Eliott,

but I couldn't tolerate that woman.

Sadly, I think you'll find that I'm not the only one.

Good day.

Damn!

If I'd wanted to give the woman a reference,

I would have written one, Miss Jones.

Of course she may be entirely suitable

for a position other than vendeurs.

No, not exactly.

Let's say she developed a rather unfortunate manner.

For which we are paying £2 10 a week.

Come on, let's go home and relax.

What's that look for?

What am I done?

All right, do you want to hear some news?

The bad news is,

Hazars wouldn't have given Alice a reference

even if she'd asked for one.

Georgina Heron said she regularly missed appointments.

The really bad news is that she's under contract to us

for a year for £2 10 a week.

Good God.

Where on earth did you get this woman from?

Well, she came very highly recommended

by your old chum, Clara Rhodes, Jack,

who also gave me the distinct impression

she would be giving her patronage to the House of Eliott.

Jack, what an unexpected pleasure.

Isn't it silly?

We don't see each other for 10 years, and then-

It's all right, Clara.

What's going on?

Where, dear?

Parliament? Beer Ritz?

The palace?

You know perfectly well what I'm talking about.

That Burgoyne women you forced it on my wife.

Oh, Jack, I never foist.

I merely find people who deserve each other,

put them together, and leave them to get on with it.

Clara, what has Beatrice ever done to you?

Absolutely nothing.

I don't give a fig about her.

But it is fun watching you squirm, though.

You mean to say, this is your idea of revenge.

Why not?

I don't like being turned down, Jack.

Not by you.

Not by anybody.

Are you really that self-centered,

or are you just bored with your marriage?

I'm not unique.

Why?

Why me?

Simple malice, dear heart.

One of the few pleasures I have left in life.

Poor old you.

D'you know, I can't even imagine being that desperate.

Goodbye, Clara.

Hello.

How are you both?

Are you feeling any better?

Had a few chosen words with Alice.

Whether or not it does any good remains to be seen.

I found out something about that.

I'm terribly sorry, but it seems to be my fault.

-How? -Really?

I wanted to see Clara this morning.

She has become even more spiteful than I'd remembered her.

Apparently this whole escapade is some pathetic attempt

at revenge for my rejection of her.

-What? -Which one?

Sorry?

I knew you've broken off your engagement.

Have you also broken off your present entanglement?

What?

Jack, you and Clara are the gossip of the workroom.

Everyone's talking about you.

Don't be absurd.

There's nothing to talk about.

Bea, you don't seriously believe that.

Well, I don't know.

Anyway, we have you to thank for all of this?

You would have preferred it if I'd encouraged her?

No.

No, of course not.

All I am saying is-

Is that you believe the fantasies

of some stupid, neurotic woman.

Look, who was it who urged me to see her in the first place?

Who thought that the House of Eliott

might have something to gain from her?

Jack, how dare you suggest that I am that-

Look, I have had a long and frustrating day,

and I'd quite like to go to bed now.

Now you two are welcome to sit here

and fight if you want to,

but quite frankly, I'd much rather you didn't.

Evie's right.

Come on, let's talk about this at home.

I need to talk to Evie.

All right.

Evie, can I stay with you tonight?

Do you mind?

Yes, you can.

But yes, I do mind.

Alice and Clara, Bea,

they are not worth fighting with Jack over.

He's your husband. He loves you.

He doesn't deserve that kind of treatment.

Well, does he?

See you in the morning?

Good night.

Jack?

Jack?

I'm sorry.