Original subtitles

35, 36, 38...

40...42 is 2, carry 4...

Oh, come in.

MRS. TROTTER: 4. 4 is 7 is...

Ahem.

Choke up, chicken. Look, now you've gone

and made me lose me place.

I'm abject.

Johnnie!

Louisa.

Well, I'm blowed.

It's been a long time.

How are you?

Very well. You are, if possible,

more beautiful than I remember.

You did always have the gift of the gab.

I seen you've been and got married.

Yes, I did.

Seems to suit you.

Put on a bit of weight, ain't you?

That is between me and my tailor.

And I read in the "Gazette"

You gave up the equerry lark.

Couldn't stand the pace, eh?

Not that and marriage.

Oh, no, I should think not.

How did himself take it, though?

Oh, predictably.

Roared like a lion at first. Sulked for days.

Finally came to the wedding

and shed tears of joy over all.

Yeah, I expect by then he'd made up his mind

the whole thing was his idea.

I rather think he had.

So now you're back with the battalion, eh?

Second in command.

Well, I'm blowed.

Here, sit down.

Oh, thank you.

So what brings you here, then?

Well, you know it's Ascot week.

Oh, I sure do.

Been fairly run off me feet, what with

Ascot luncheons and dinners to do

here, there, and everywhere.

Thank God it's the last day tomorrow.

Oh, dear.

Why? What's it to you?

Well, Phillida... my wife...

was fearfully keen to do the thing properly.

But for one reason and another,

she's never managed to before and so...

well, we couldn't really afford it,

but we took a house down there.

Oh, you're a bit lovely, ain't you?

Oh, just a small house party. Should have been ideal.

It's been an utter disaster.

What, the guests not get on?

Least of our problems, although nothing's ever right

for Phillida's godfather, contentious old devil.

His wife's pretty free with unsolicited advice, too.

But...well, Phillida is inexperienced.

And the staff we've inherited...

they simply defy description.

What with the rain, I think yesterday was

the worst day we've had since we got married.

Oh, dear. I am sorry.

Don't see what I can do about it.

I was rather hoping you'd help me

to take the curse off that house.

How?

Well, if I could organize

a really good dinner for the last day...

Tomorrow? Forget it!

I've had 7 dinners to do already this week,

never mind about running the hotel.

Oh, yes. I do see.

I wouldn't have asked if Charlie Haslemere

hadn't said you'd help if you possibly could.

Oh, he put you up to it, did he?

Might have known.

No, no, no. Actually, it all started

because the palace has offered me a sturgeon.

I've been on the list a long time,

and it did seem providential

if we were going to give a very special dinner.

Oh, yeah, couldn't go far wrong with that.

Cook we've got could go wrong

with sardines on toast, and has.

Besides, as Charlie said, it's the royal fish,

and who else could I ask to present it

but the Queen of Cooks?

You're a crafty couple of devils,

ain't you?

If I were to go down on my bended knee...

What else would you have besides?

Oh, I'd leave it to you.

Bended knee, you said?

Here, get up off of there.

Somebody will come in.

Not until I have your answer.

Oh, all right.

You're a real friend.

I'm a snob

on top of being a sentimental fool.

What's the address?

And how many will you be?

I thought 10, all told.

How's your cellars down there?

Deplorable.

Sounds to me like you've been robbed.

So you'll want me to do the wines

as well, will you?

Oh, everything. I leave it all to you.

You mean you want to get off to the races.

Well... Oh, go on.

Here. How big is this sturgeon?

Do I get it picked up, or do they send it over?

I've really no idea.

Oh, get along with you.

I'll telephone the bloomin' palace meself.

You're an angel.

Yeah, I know all about that.

Have a nice day.

We'll be along to sort you out tomorrow.

Oh, dear.

Sturgeon, eh?

Oh, well.

Major?

Coming.

Good morning, Mrs. Trotter.

Morning, Major.

Money no object,

what wine would you serve

with a sturgeon?

Sturgeon, eh?

When is this for?

Tomorrow.

Dinner for the palace, I take it.

No. It's an Ascot party, if you must know.

Well, I think with sturgeon,

I'd serve a Rhône wine, perhaps a Chante-Alouette.

Of course, there's the Puligny-Montrachet '02,

if you really want to spoil them.

Perfect.

Puligny-Montrachet, 1902.

I thought you were having the day off tomorrow.

Not anymore.

I see.

A very special customer.

Pal of Charlie's.

Oh, that explains everything.

Well, got to help out when you can,

or else what's the use of friends?

Quite so.

You don't happen to know Desmond Elleston, do you?

I believe he's a pal of Charlie's. Why?

He owns Vital Spark.

Oh, bloomin' racehorse, I suppose.

And well-fancied for the Alexandra Stakes tomorrow.

I already got one sure-fire tip...

Bembo for the Hardwicke... and I was thinking

of making Vital Spark the second leg of a double.

I wondered whether Charlie had any inside advice.

I don't know, I'm sure. Give you mine for nothing.

I was rather afraid you would.

Save your money.

You don't understand.

The beauty of a double is that one gets multiplied odds.

I'm thinking of the horses.

You back them, odds are they drop down dead.

I'm due for a run of luck.

You have been, Major,

ever since I've known you.

You take my tip.

Far as Ascot goes, you drive the bus for me tomorrow.

Oh, very well.

I'd better go and give her a rubdown.

I've just checked those.

Where's Old Major Whiskers?

I'm sure I don't know who you're talking about.

You know perfectly well.

What I do know, Mary, is that I was brought up

not to make fun of my elders.

There can't be many.

Least of all when they're not present.

I already told you, I've checked those!

Well, then, you can get on

with something else, can't you?

And furthermore,

I don't have to take orders from you.

Mrs. Trotter said I'm to look after things.

Oh, I'm not to be trusted.

Is that it?

I'm only doing as I'm told.

Now, why don't you?

Mrs. Cochrane, Mary. Lovely day.

Where's the bus?

Outside.

Well, it wasn't a moment ago.

True, but then, a moment ago, I wasn't in here.

The one constant in life, Mary, is change.

Did I ever tell you, Mrs. Cochrane, that my time

in India has made me something of a philosopher?

You did not.

Given half a chance, he will.

In my experience, Mary,

bores are infinitely preferable to bullies.

Are you calling me a bully?

Yes.

Hear, hear.

Equally, madam, I would ask you not to provoke her.

I have lived too long to have the evening of my days

made hideous by quarrels belowstairs.

What is more to the point,

if you two can't find a way to rub along,

Mrs. Trotter's going to hear about it,

and then there really will be trouble.

He's right.

I'm sure I've gone out of my way to get on with her.

Oh, 6 of one and half a dozen of the other.

Well, all right.

Let's get on and bottle these sauces.

That's something we can do together.

MAJOR: Good.

MRS. COCHRANE: Don't you think

we should start loading some of this, Major?

Not until Mrs. Trotter's checked it.

I took particular note of her instructions.

It's nothing personal. Honest.

Mrs. Trotter does like to check everything herself.

Yes, I do, and you know why?

Because if anything's wrong, you laugh,

and it's my head that rolls.

Right?

Get your hat and coat on, Mrs. C.

Everything in that box of mine, Mary?

- Yeah. - Good.

- What's this? - Asparagus.

- Kept damp like I told you? - Yep.

What are you up to?

3 of Madeira, 3 of Imperial Tokay, and...

half a dozen each of the others.

Looks to me like more.

That's the wine.

I've also put up 2 bottles of port and 2 bottles of brandy.

Which port?

Quinta do Noval '69. I've decanted it already.

Good brandy?

A 15-year-old Exshaw. That should do them all right.

And did you remember to cross it off the stock list?

I have now.

You're a bit of a quick-change artist.

I reckon the 3 of you has done a good job.

Better load up now.

Are we going to need all these utensils?

I don't know, but it's a rented house.

There's no knowing what they may have or not have,

so my motto is, "Get yourself covered, girl."

And you'd better take the big fish kettle.

They're bound not to have one of them.

Are you going to be able to hold the fort all right, Mary?

Yep.

Oh, did you have a word

with the couple in number 7?

Oh, blimey. Nearly forgot. You were quite right.

Couldn't begin to pay their bill.

I knew it.

Mind you, it was astronomical.

It wasn't when I first spoke to you.

Anyway, I put it on Sir George's bill.

Well!

Suppose he finds out?

Sir George find out? Don't believe he can read.

Pity to go to Ascot and miss the races.

We got a job of work to do.

Oh, quite.

MRS. TROTTER: Besides,

think of the money you're saving.

I arranged for my modest investment

to be handled by Starr.

You'll never learn, will you?

I did decide against the double.

Just plunged on Bembo.

Well, it's something for you

to be halfway sensible, I suppose.

If he romps home at 7-1,

you will regret those words.

I might, if he does.

Mrs. C. Is very quiet,

ain't she?

Yorkshire-bred.

Notably dour lot.

Long on stoicism, short on words.

But I ain't heard a word out of her

since we left the hotel.

Blimey, she don't half look poorly.

Hope she's not going to be Uncle Dick

over these goods.

Fearful affliction.

There's nothing I can do.

Nor anyone. It's incurable.

Knew a fellow once in the frontier force

got it from mules.

Great strapping fellow.

Horses, camels, elephants, even...no problem.

But mules...the mere sight of one would lay him low

as effectively as any wily Pathan...

Blimey.

And with less dignity.

How much further?

Oh, with any luck, say half an hour.

Oh, poor cow.

Here, this is the front. We go round the back.

MAJOR: What?

Oh. Yes.

Sorry.

One forgets.

We're here.

Here you are, then.

You'll live.

Yes, madam.

Oh, I'm sorry, madam.

You'll be right as rain

when you've had a cup of tea.

Yes, madam. Thank you.

No wonder they wanted a good meal.

Yes. Not much to feast the eye on, is there?

And no welcome on the mat.

Oh, well. You can start bringing the things in

soon as she feels herself.

You have all day. I haven't.

Hello.

Who are you?

Kath, ma'am.

You aren't very old, Kath, are you?

What's your position?

Tweeny, ma'am.

A hard life but a merry one, eh?

No, not so merry.

I'm Mrs. Trotter.

That mean anything to you?

I'm here to do the dinner.

I'll have to ask Mr. Sterling.

Yeah, you do that, then.

And tell him to get his skates on!

You feeling better?

Quite myself again.

You're sure, now?

Yes, thank you, Major.

Then shall we...

Right.

Mrs. Trotter?

Mr. Sterling. Hello.

How do you do?

I'll be a lot better when I can get in

to start on the dinner, if you've no objections.

I haven't, but the kitchen staff's in an uproar.

You're the butler here.

Don't want to be defeated before we start.

But you see, when the master let this house

for the races, he sent all the staff on holiday

excepting myself and young Kath,

who's hardly dry behind the ears.

This lot come from an agency,

and from start to finish,

they've been nothing but trouble.

Moaning's not going to change them, is it, now?

Come on.

Well, you going to do the honors, Mr. Sterling?

Oh, yes, yes. This is Mrs. Trotter.

STERLING: Mrs. Bertram and her staff.

What's the matter? Deaf and dumb, are you?

We've been insulted, haven't we?

Not by me, you haven't. Not yet.

Bringing you down here

without so much as a by-your-leave?

Whose leave? Yours?

You got some funny ideas, ain't you?

This is my kitchen.

And welcome, from what I've seen of it.

Look, I don't want your job.

I didn't particularly want to come down here

and do this dinner.

You touch one thing in here,

and we give in our notice.

MRS. TROTTER: All of you?

MRS. BERTRAM: All of us.

We talked it over.

Yeah, bet I know who done most of the talking.

I'm not going to stand here...

you're telling me.

Now, Sir John asked me down to do him a dinner,

and I can see why now.

Never mind you're a bunch of surly so-and-sos.

The muck this place is in,

you're not fit to serve swill.

Don't you speak to me...

you ain't heard nothing yet.

Look at this place. It's a disgrace.

How long since this been scrubbed?

You call yourself a cook?

My God. All your airs and graces,

you're an insanitary slummock, that's what you are.

Give in your notice? I can't wait that long.

Don't want you in here a moment longer.

Touch one thing, was it?

Here you are, then.

You better get off before I'm tempted to use it on you!

I'll get off, all right.

But I hope you make a proper mess of things!

MRS. TROTTER: And the rest of you can suit yourselves.

Stay, and you might learn something...

though from the look of the place, I doubt it...

or push off out of here.

I don't want a bunch of layabouts under me feet,

so make up your minds.

Oh, madam.

Well,

looks like we're going to be short-handed.

MAJOR: At least we now know where we are.

STERLING: I'd be happier

if her ladyship had been consulted.

Yeah, well, she's at the races, ain't she?

We'd stood here arguing all day,

we'd never have got dinner.

I get the feeling she'll be consulted

the moment she sets her foot inside the door.

We'll cope with that when it happens.

What other staff have you got?

STERLING: Only outdoor.

Valets? Ladies' maids?

There's Sir John's soldier servant

and Lady Farjeon's maid.

Between us, we've been looking after

all the guests.

You fetch them in here.

STERLING: It's highly irregular.

It's all hands to a sinking ship.

MAJOR: Rats apart.

Yes, I suppose so.

Where do you want the things from the bus?

Put them over there for the moment,

out of the way.

I've got to sort out

what needs to be done.

Here, uh...

What's your name? Kate, is it?

Kath, ma'am.

Kath, here you are.

What if I'm worse than her? I could be, you know.

Are you going to risk it?

Good girl.

Then you're kitchen maid.

There. There's one problem solved.

Guardsman Wilson, Miss Jennett,

Mrs. Trotter.

MRS. TROTTER: Hello. Mrs. Cochrane.

MRS. COCHRANE: Good day.

MRS. TROTTER: And Major Smith-Barton.

Sir.

Thank you, Wilson,

but I think, in the circumstances,

we can dispense with the formalities.

Sir.

We're in a bit of a pickle,

as I expect you've heard by now.

Well, I had rather gathered.

Never listen to gossip.

Well, that must make life dull.

Ma'am?

Oh, never mind.

The thing is, we can sort it out ourselves.

Just if you was willing to lend a hand,

we could sort it out that much quicker.

So what do you say?

Well, if it means Sir John and her ladyship

having the dinner they've been hoping for,

- I volunteer. - Oh, yes.

They deserve a nice evening

after all that's been going on.

They really do.

Slovenly lot, that other lot was.

Well, we're lucky to have Mr. Sterling,

him knowing the place so well.

Can't let Kathy be the only one

to redeem the honor of the household.

That's the style. So...what can you do?

I started in the still room

at Dunster Castle.

WILSON: I have, in my time, waited table

in the officers mess.

JENNETT: Trouble is, we'll have to go when they're dressing for dinner,

just when you need us most.

WILSON: Can't be in 2 places at once.

You'll just have to get back down here

as quick as you can, won't you?

We've got resident butler, thank God. I'm Chef de Cuisine.

Proper cook in Mrs. Cochrane.

And Kath reckons she can cope as kitchen maid, and I agree.

So I'm afraid it's the scullery for you.

Oh, that's a bit of a comedown, isn't it?

She does know her way around the kitchen better than you.

Oh, well, I suppose I did volunteer.

And you'll have to cope as best you can as footman.

Ma'am.

It all seems to be falling into place.

MRS. TROTTER: You, too, Major.

You're acting unpaid dogsbody.

You can start by dealing with the wines.

The rest of you can see what you can do

to clean this place up.

We'll have a look at the dining room,

Mr. Sterling, if that's all right by you.

STERLING: All right, Mrs. Trotter.

So, it's 10 for dinner, right?

So I'm given to understand.

What's been done about flowers?

Her ladyship hasn't ordered any that I know of.

She'll hardly have time to do them herself.

I better see what I can find in the garden

when we're done here.

Yes. Well, here are the epergnes.

How are you for glasses?

Oh, ample sufficiency for that number.

Cutlery? Linen? Serviettes?

What we've got in here...

Her ladyship did leave a plan for the placement.

Yeah, well, that's something

to be thankful for.

Oh, Kath.

Thank you.

Whew!

Quite like old times.

Right?

If it moves, salute it.

If it doesn't move, polish it.

Right, off you go.

Yes, sir.

MAJOR: By jove!

That's a handsome fish.

Oh, yeah.

You've done a lovely job boning and stuffing it.

Thank you, ma'am.

Asparagus. Right.

Strawberries.

Soufflé dish.

Got your eggs separated, have you? Good.

You keeping your head above water, Miss Jennett?

Oh, just about.

It'll be worse before it gets better.

Oh! Thanks.

I think we're winning. Thank you, one and all.

Time for a nice glass of wine

before they get back from the races.

Mr. Sterling?

MRS. TROTTER: Oh! How did you know?

The major gave me the hint.

Oh, he's sound on anything that hasn't got 4 legs.

Right. Step up. Take your glasses.

Lovely.

Here you are.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Don't you want one?

She's too young for Champagne.

If she's old enough to work,

she's old enough to drink like us.

- Right? - Right.

There you are.

Don't be so mean.

Here. Cheerio.

Cheers. Cheers.

Mmm!

The bubbles gone all up my nose!

What did I say?

Waste of good Champagne.

Oh, I don't know.

The girl's got to start sometime.

MRS. TROTTER: If at first you don't succeed...

Oh, Kath.

WOMAN: How do you think Lady Rothschild

managed that hat?

And in this wind? I quite thought

I was going to lose mine.

I scarcely noticed against hers.

Personally, I found it rather vulgar.

Oh, did you?

I thought those feathers were tremendous fun.

I must say I did, too.

But the colors!

I wonder if I might have a word

with your ladyship privately.

Not another disaster!

It is a matter of some urgency, I fear.

Let's go upstairs

and get out of these things.

I never believe in being too accessible

to one's staff.

Give them distance.

As soon as you've seen the gentlemen in,

I'll be in the drawing room.

My lady.

A good day, I trust, Sir John?

Good enough, thank you, Sterling.

Somewhat lacking in Vital Spark.

For pity's sake, Ross.

If you can't afford to lose a few pounds on a horse

without grumbling about it all the time,

don't go racing.

Whether I can afford it or not

is neither here nor there.

Let's have a drink.

Thanks, but I want my bath!

And preferably in boiling oil.

Steady on.

It's all very well, Johnnie,

but Phillida's godfather or not,

if he makes one more insinuation about Desmond's horse,

I'm warning you, there'll be trouble.

Don't worry.

I'll keep him off the subject.

Did Mrs. Trotter arrive all right?

Yes, Sir John.

Oh, where is she?

At the present time, she's in the dining room, my lord.

Come on.

Louisa!

Charlie!

Johnnie.

Well, you've worked the oracle again.

It looks truly wonderful.

Oh, well.

Pleased you're pleased.

Wilson, what the devil are you doing here?

I asked him to give me a hand.

I've laid out your clothes, sir,

and the other gentlemen's as well.

Well, that's all very well.

You can manage without him for a bit,

and I can't, see? That's all...

Oh.

Sir. Permission to carry on, sir.

Well, yes, I suppose so,

though why it's necessary

when we have a perfectly good footman...

that's all you know.

Louisa has her own way of doing things.

Evidently.

Learned in the school

of hard knocks.

Oh, Louisa!

Keep your hands off the grapes,

Charlie Haslemere.

You know I can't abide to have me fruit picked over.

The port seems to have stood the journey rather well.

Hello, Charlie.

Good lord, Major.

Don't tell me she roped you in, as well.

Always like to lend a hand, you know.

Oh, do you know Johnnie Farjeon?

Major Smith-Barton.

I don't believe I've had the pleasure.

How do you do, sir?

Oh, pretty well, pretty well.

Will you have a drink?

Oh...not while I'm working, thank you.

Then perhaps you will join us in a glass

after dinner.

After dinner, he'll be helping me

to pack up and get back to the hotel.

Louisa, you're a slave driver!

PHILLIDA: Johnnie! Johnnie!

Excuse me. Coming.

Oh, there you are.

I want you to meet Mrs. Trotter.

Yes, I think it's high time I did,

judging by what Sterling's just told me!

CHARLIE: You'd better have that drink after all, Major.

Perhaps I will.

JOHNNIE: Jolly good. Come along, then.

And you can fall out, as well.

Ma'am.

Mrs. Trotter,

have you quite taken leave of your senses?

Oh, I hope not.

I understood that you were to come down here

to provide dinner tonight.

That's right.

According to my husband, it was a special favor.

Right again.

Well, no doubt you mean well.

If you knew how I was looking forward to it!

But I come back here and find

you haven't been in the house 5 minutes

before half the staff have simply walked out.

You were better off without them.

Well, I suppose we're better off with my maid

and my husband's soldier servant working for you

instead of doing the jobs they're supposed to do.

As a matter of fact, you are just now.

I know just how you feel,

but if I'd had that bunch of weary willies

under me feet, we'd never have got dinner.

Weren't worth the time of day.

Robbing you blind, I shouldn't wonder.

You don't seem to realize, we have a houseful of guests.

Well, you finish tomorrow, don't you?

Somebody has to give them breakfast.

Oh, if that's all you're worried about,

I'll see to that.

I'll leave it all so Kath and Sterling

have only to warm it up and serve it.

Can you really?

Of course I can. Won't take me 2 ticks.

Now, in fact, I'll have it all done

by the time dinner's washed up.

Well, in that case...

How do you like me flowers?

They're lovely!

Yeah, well,

I like to do me own flowers.

You've seen a menu, have you?

No.

Here you are, then.

It's a bit late to change it,

but we'll try if you fancy anything

in particular.

Oh.

I don't see how it could be bettered.

Oh. Well, that is nice.

Well, we knew you'd had a spot of bother

one way and another, so we wanted

to do you something special.

Ain't been married long, have you?

No.

He's a lovely fellow you got there.

I think so.

And he ain't done so badly himself,

as long as he don't get

the sharp edge of your tongue too often.

Oh!

You really are an amazing woman, Mrs. Trotter.

Just so's you have an amazing evening,

Lady Farjeon.

I think we shall.

I really think we shall.

Well, that's all right, then.

Peace reigns in the dining room,

you'll be pleased to hear.

I'd better get back and decant the claret.

Oh, there's bags of time.

The second gong hasn't even gone yet.

Have another drink.

Oh, thank you.

The major was asking who won the Hardwicke.

I couldn't remember.

Oh, Bembo.

MAJOR: Oh, good!

Waltzed it, 7-1.

Very good.

Did you back him?

In a modest way.

Either of you two do any good?

Oh, so-so.

I broke even, I suppose.

I'd have done a lot better

if there hadn't been such an upset in the Alexandra Plate.

- Oh? - Vital Spark.

Desmond Elleston's horse?

Joint favorite. Well-fancied.

I nearly made him the second leg of a double.

Well, count your blessings.

What happened?

Simply faded in the last furlong.

That's surprising. Oh, thank you.

On form, he should have stayed the distance easy.

I don't understand it.

Nor did Phillida's godfather.

He keeps hinting

there was something funny about it.

Mind you, he lost a packet.

Well, he's rich as Croesus.

Doesn't mean to say he likes to lose it.

That's how he stays rich.

True. Ha ha! Very.

You better keep him off it because...

You've made your point.

Oh, ma'am!

Yeah? What's your problem?

It's Mrs. Cochrane!

What's wrong with her?

She says come quick. Please, ma'am.

What's wrong?

The gelatine won't set, ma'am.

It's too warm. Of course it is.

Flaming June, isn't it?

Where's your ice?

There's no ice.

What do you mean, there's no ice?

Regrettably, the iceman failed

to deliver this afternoon.

Ain't you got a refrigerator?

Not as such.

Oh, God, what a dump!

What am I to do?

I'm bound to say it's the first time

I've ever known him let us down.

Do you mean he came yesterday?

Oh, yes, indeed.

Then where's your icebox?

Through here.

God's truth!

How much ice do you want?

It's pretty near full the lining.

I never thought of that.

God give me strength.

Here, give me your cloth.

Yeah.

Here you go.

Where's your rolling pin?

All right.

There you are.

Now you stir your gelatine over that,

and you don't let it get too solid.

No, Mrs. Trotter, I won't.

Put that somewhere safe, will you?

Oh, yeah. There's something, like.

It's a proper picture, isn't it?

Yeah. In fact, that's what it's all about.

First job I ever had,

know what the chef there said to me?

He said...

"After the smell,

the taste, the tongue, and then the eyes."

I never forgot that.

You want to be a cook, do you?

You have to really want to, you know.

I do. I want it more than anything else

in the whole world.

Do you want to be the best cook in England?

Yeah, well, wanting's half of it,

and working at it's the other.

Eyes on the stars, feet on the ground.

Get back to work, then.

Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am.

God! Fair took me breath away.

It was like talking to meself

for a minute back there.

That will be the first of the dinner guests.

Yeah, well, we're ready when you are.

If I don't get an apology...

you won't!

You haven't a shred of evidence

for what you're saying!

I have it on the best authority!

Make some excuse, that's all.

How long will you be?

God knows.

But, Johnnie, if you aren't there

to greet the other guests,

they'll think it extremely odd.

It's nothing to what they'll think

if I can't calm these two down.

Please keep your voices down!

Show in the other guests.

Then ask Mrs. Trotter to put back dinner

by half an hour.

Very good, my lady.

MAN: Ah, there you are!

We were beginning to get worried

we'd come on the wrong night.

STERLING: Not at all, sir.

Well, that's a relief, what?

Warm tonight.

A trifle, sir.

Thunder in the air.

Rain later, I shouldn't wonder.

You can get the water on for the asparagus.

Yes, ma'am.

There we are.

All right.

Soufflé into the oven, Mrs. C.

Right.

Open that door for me, will you?

Thank you.

Let's have a look at you, Wilson.

Yeah, you'll do.

Get your gloves on.

Get along to the dining room.

I'll get the consommé into the tureen

soon as they announce dinner.

I'll bring it along to you.

Sir.

Her ladyship's compliments, Mrs. Trotter,

and will you put dinner back half an hour?

Oh, my God. The soufflé.

I'll get it out.

Don't you dare!

You touch that oven door, you'll ruin it!

Can't be done.

STERLING: I'm only passing on orders.

But why?

Mr. Ross and his lordship are having an argument.

What about?

All I can say is that it's heated

and serious enough to stop Sir John

from greeting his other guests.

Where are they?

In the smoking room.

Right. Don't you touch that soufflé.

And you separate some more eggs

in case we need to make another.

Check the dining room.

I'll be back before you know I've gone.

What can she do?

Murder, if her dinner's spoiled.

You repeat that to another living soul,

and I'll take you through the courts!

Can you afford to?

Not only that, but if it's published,

I'll take your rotten scandal sheet

and shove it down your throat!

What? No horsewhips?

Damn you! For God's sake.

ROSS: Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable

of taking care of myself.

Doesn't sound to me as if either of you

is capable of anything,

least of all a bit of common sense.

Louisa, just keep out of this.

It's none of your business.

Stupid slanging match.

Can't you hear yourselves?

May I ask who you are, madam?!

This is Mrs. Trotter of the Bentinck Hotel.

Considerable personality and a distinctive hostelry,

or so I'm told.

In other circumstances, I'd be pleased to meet you,

but I fail to understand how our differences

could possibly concern you or your hotel.

I'm here to do the dinner.

I promise not to interfere.

You have. Any minute now it's going to spoil,

and having put meself out,

I don't intend that that should happen...

not on account of a couple of men

shouting the odds!

I really must go and greet our other guests.

Now, come on. You're grown up.

Behave like it.

What's it all about, anyway?

Mr. Ross has accused a friend of mine,

Desmond Elleston, of cheating, Louisa.

He says he had it

from a racing journalist who knows.

Oh, crikey. Newspapers again.

I happen to have one among my interests...

not that it's any business of yours.

Don't talk to me about newspapers.

If they can't find muck to print,

they have to invent it.

We print what people ought to know.

Ought? You're not God, are you?

Is this really helpful?

What did this scribbler friend

of yours say, anyway?

That Desmond Elleston gave orders that his horse

shouldn't win the Alexandra Plate this afternoon.

MRS. TROTTER: Wasn't that the big race?

Worth 1,500 pounds.

Why would he want to throw that away?

To lengthen the odds on the next race

he has Vital Spark entered for at Goodwood.

It simply isn't true, Louisa.

How can you be so sure?

- It's unthinkable. - Why?

Well, it's unthinkable!

I mean, I've known him all my life!

Really.

Isn't this damn thing settled yet?

No, it's not.

Well, it's all going on up there.

What is?

A racing row, as far as I can make out, sir.

For someone that doesn't hold

with gossip, you spend a lot

of time with your ear at keyholes.

I thought you'd like to know.

Fruitful source of contention, racing.

All I know is,

if that soufflé's overcooked,

it'll be like leather.

Hmm.

Just because you lost a bet...

No, Charlie. You malign me!

We're not talking about someone

who diddled one of his rich friends at cards.

If I'm right,

Elleston's cheated a lot of hopefuls today

in order that he can cheat a lot more at Goodwood.

I think that's the sort of fraud that ought...

yes, ought, Mrs. Trotter...be exposed.

I didn't mean to upset your evening,

and I didn't realize

that Elleston was a friend of yours.

If he's done what I say he's done,

he doesn't deserve to be.

Charles.

You're not just out to cause trouble, are you?

No.

Charlie, if the king gets to hear about this,

there will be the very devil to pay.

Don't tell me. Tell your wife's godfather.

We've simply got to sort it out

among ourselves.

Please, Johnnie, I'm at my wits' end.

We must announce dinner.

Oh, all right.

Just one more moment, my dear.

Look here. If there's any way

we can settle this privately...

All roads lead to rome.

You're neither of you going to give in

till you know who's right. Right?

No.

No.

Then find out.

An unofficial inquiry?

Desmond would never agree.

Rather than have his name in the papers,

he'd be glad to. I know I would.

Is he down here?

He's staying with the Westmacotts.

I'll telephone.

We'll need an independent arbiter.

MRS. TROTTER: What about the major?

- Yes, of course. - The Major?

He's a pal of mine.

He's one-time steward of Calcutta races.

MRS. TROTTER: So what do you say?

Rotten end to a bad week.

What about that soufflé?

Much longer,

and the sturgeon's going to spoil, too.

Oh, dear!

STERLING: Never say die.

An admirable sentiment, Sterling,

but hardly helpful in the circumstances.

We're off!

Consommé, Mrs. C.

Right. Wilson, Sterling, get down to the dining room,

ready to serve.

You can take along the consommé, Major,

soon as it's ready.

What was it all about?

Racing row.

Which you solved?

No. I dropped you in it.

You're going to conduct an unofficial inquiry

soon as the owner gets over here.

In that case, I'd better eat now.

Uh-uh! You cut along with that consommé.

There you are.

Which horse?

Vital Spark in the Alexandra Plate.

MAJOR: I rather saw it coming.

Kath! Look what you're doing!

I'm sorry.

No time for daydreaming

if you want to be best cook in England.

No, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am.

Mrs. Cochrane, let's get that sturgeon out.

Right.

Oh!

Phillida, how very original

to serve unhulled strawberries.

Myself, I find it

a shade perverse.

Oh, but it's all the rage.

A l'anglaise?

I daresay.

With individual bowls

of cream and sugar,

- isn't that so? - Yes.

MAN: Invented by Samuel Smiles...

self-help, don't you know?

Why, Aubrey, what a wag you are!

Very droll.

AUBREY: One tries.

How's it going in there?

Reasonably jolly, I gather...for a morgue.

For a dinner party, less so.

Should I go and sort them out?

For once, I think perhaps not.

Well, perhaps you're right.

You see now

how the hulls come in handy, Mrs. Ross.

Yes, thank you.

I do grasp the idea.

Don't grasp the idea.

Grasp the hulls, what?

What?

Joke.

Oh.

Oh!

Ha ha ha!

AUBREY: Well, it wasn't that funny.

No.

No.

AUBREY: How was the racing?

Oh, I'm sorry?

Aubrey was asking

about today's racing.

How was it?

It was interesting.

Yes.

Mrs. Ross: I'd say interesting was the word.

AUBREY: Good.

WOMAN: At least the weather was lovely,

apart from the wind.

AUBREY: That's good.

And there were some amazing hats.

MRS. ROSS: Truly amazing.

Jolly good!

Excuse me,

but Charlie and Sidney Ross

are wanted on urgent business.

Extraordinary!

I'm sure we'll excuse them.

MRS. ROSS: Why, yes.

Of course.

JOHNNIE: Have you been following the Lemoine case?

PHILLIDA: In Paris?

AUBREY: Can't say I have.

WOMAN: Do tell.

Well, apparently

this fellow took 60,000 pounds

off some South African businessman

for a process for making diamonds

out of chemicals...

a feat which he performed naked.

PHILLIDA: On 2 occasions.

What a perfect scream!

Needless to say,

the formula didn't work

for anyone else, but by the time

that was discovered,

he had fled the country.

AUBREY: I say!

There were perfectly good stewards at the meeting.

They didn't have the information

I have since acquired.

You must have had a very big bet

to be so diligent.

Let's not impugn anyone's motives,

Mr. Elleston.

I have been accused of the basest possible conduct.

CHARLIE: But you welcome the chance

to come here and refute it.

Given the alternative.

Yes. Well, let's get on and do

as was agreed, gentlemen.

Thank you.

Do you yourself think

that Vital Spark's performance

came up to expectations?

No.

As a result of which,

his odds for Goodwood have lengthened.

Possibly.

It's an established fact.

The bookies are offering 12-1.

CHARLIE: But you deny any connection

between the 2 things.

Absolutely.

How do you account for the horse's poor showing today?

Racehorses are not machines, you know, Major.

Mr. Elleston,

that is a distinction

I made before you were born

or thought of.

Yes. I'm sorry, Major.

To answer the question...

I think Brenton called on him too soon.

You blame the jockey?

Perhaps we should have him here.

Uh, no. No. He rode to orders.

We were worried about Torpoint all along,

and Brenton's orders were to get ahead of him

the moment he could.

Which he did,

and then led the race for the first 6 furlongs.

Which I hadn't allowed for.

Vital Spark is a horse that loves to race.

Only he had no one to race against

once he took the lead.

MAJOR: Is that what you're saying?

Well, he certainly seemed to have lost interest

by the time he was challenged.

Brenton simply couldn't pull him together.

It was bad judgment, if you like.

That's hindsight.

But to say I deliberately tried to influence

the course of a race!

If you only knew how much I needed that prize money.

I do.

Don't make too much of it.

No. I mean, I've been living

from hand to mouth for years, you know.

Mr. Ross' point is

that you now stand to win a fortune

if Vital Spark wins at Goodwood.

Major, I might just be that farsighted.

Unfortunately, my creditors aren't.

Ha ha ha!

The kidneys and the kedgeree

only need to be warmed through

and put in the chafing dish

along the sideboard.

There's eggs and bacon, toast, tea, and coffee.

You can manage that, can't you?

I reckon so.

Then Bob's your uncle.

STERLING: Here, leave a few!

How's the party?

Well, there's 2 parties, isn't there?

What, still?

MRS. COCHRANE: How much longer?

Mum.

What is it?

This isn't going to mean trouble for Fred, is it?

Fred?

My brother.

Well, why should it?

I don't know.

He's a lad, see,

at the racing stables where Vital Spark's trained.

Not that I've gambled, so to speak of,

but he gives me a tip now and then

when he's onto something good.

Well, last week he wrote me a letter.

What letter?

To say to save my money on Vital Spark today

and have a real good go on him at Goodwood

and to keep it to myself so it don't spoil the odds.

Where is it, this letter?

I don't want to get him into trouble.

Nor me, and I don't want a pal of mine

to get into trouble, neither.

Now, you go and get it. There's a good girl.

Not my favorite dish, humble pie,

but I owe you an unqualified apology.

Think no more of it.

It's jolly decent of you, Desmond,

to take it like this.

I'm glad that we could settle it among ourselves.

I'd say this calls for a drink.

I really think we ought to get back to the others.

I'll just have a quick drink with Desmond

and the major and then join you.

Very well. Elleston.

Ross.

Major.

I ought to be getting back, too.

I'll shield you from Louisa's wrath.

Never fear.

Mrs. Trotter.

Over, is it?

Yes, and you saved me

from making a fool of myself.

I'm very grateful.

Oh. That's handsome of you.

And I'm sure Mr. Elleston

will want to thank you, too.

Good night.

CHARLIE: Louisa, can I introduce you

to Mr. Desmond Elleston?

Mrs. Trotter.

Delighted.

CHARLIE: Well, you not only redeemed our stay,

you saved us from a thumping scandal.

I did, didn't I?

Major, perhaps you'd load the bus,

if you wouldn't mind.

Uh... Right away.

Charlie. Elleston.

ELLESTON: Major.

CHARLIE: Night, old boy.

Charming fellow. Yes.

Shame you had to pack him off like that.

Well, I'll get him back, shall I?

Him and anyone else you want to know

about your pal here being a crook.

My dear Mrs. Tro...

Now, don't you try and soft-talk me!

I've got a letter proves exactly what you planned to do

and that the whole stables knew.

I don't believe it.

You will if I give it to Mr. Ross to print.

What have I ever done to you?

Nothing, but you took a lot of little people

this afternoon, and I don't hold with that.

Can't make you pay them back,

but I can see you don't profit by it no more.

If it wasn't that it'd make Lord Haslemere here look a fool

and upset the Farjeons, I'd give Mr. Ross that letter now.

As it is, you run Vital Spark at Goodwood,

and I swear I will.

You're bluffing.

Call it.

You realize I shall go bankrupt.

That could be the least of your worries.

Be drummed out society the other way.

You'll never get back, neither.

Louisa, what on earth is this all about?

It isn't true, Desmond?

Oh, Charlie!

If you hadn't made such a song and dance

about the whole thing, it would have blown over.

Of course it's true,

and I'm finished, thanks to you...

And Medusa here.

I'd have gone on oath that that man...

Yeah. Well...

That's what keeps us together, isn't it...

both of us being such rotten judges

of character?

I don't know.

I just don't know.

Bear up.

Someday one of our geese is going to turn out to be a swan.

It's bound to... law of averages.

I was just coming to say good-bye

and thank you.

That's all right.

I won't say the evening didn't have

its sticky moments,

but the meal was delicious,

and Ross tells me you averted a scandal.

Yeah. I did, didn't I?

I'm very grateful.

My wife would be here, too, but we have been

playing truant rather a lot this evening.

Yeah. I know.

In fact, I must go and rout out Charlie.

Yeah, well, I'd give him a minute if I was you.

The fact is, he got it all wrong.

Oh, my God.

I'm only telling you 'cause he's going to feel it.

But don't worry. It's all sorted out now.

No need for anyone but you and me and him to know.

Thank you again.

Give me regards to Lady Farjeon.

MAJOR: Yes. Well, I think that's all.

Thank you for your help.

Let's get out of here, my lot.

JENNETT: Good-bye, Mrs. Cochrane.

Thanks ever so much.

Good-bye, Major.

Well, I won't say it's been fun,

but we've had our moments.

Hope you ain't ruined your hands,

Miss Jennett.

Oh, they'll recover.

Ta-ta, Wilson.

You'd make a first-rate footman

if you didn't stamp about so.

Best regards, Mr. Sterling.

Mutual, Mrs. Trotter.

Well, we'd better get on upstairs.

Good-bye.

Ta-ta.

Here, Kath.

I don't poach,

but you should ever fancy chancing

your arm in London, you look me up, eh?

Bentinck Hotel,

Duke Street, St. James'.

Thank you, mum. Thanks ever so much.

Don't let it go to your head

and spoil breakfast, will you?

No, ma'am.

And, uh, I'd burn that

if I was you.

Mind how you go!