All language subtitles for Mapp & Lucia Season 1, Episode 4 « Lobster Pots » (itv 1985 UK) (ENG SUB ENG).en

(gentle orchestral music)

(seagulls crying)

- Nice garden, sheltered
from the north winds.

Thick hedge of hornbeam
labeled Pine's Creed.

- What exactly are those?

Just over there?

What do you call them?

- Oh, they're dikes, to
keep out the high tides.

- Like Holland.

- But nothing has overflowed since

they were constructed, oh, many years ago.

- Oh, shall we inspect the house itself?

Ohh, hmm.

- The former owners used
this as their dining room.

To catch, I believe,
the wonderful sunsets.

- What a lovely view.

- Can't you just see yourself living here?

Dining here?

- (speaks Italian)

- This way, ladies.

- Ah.

(Irene whistles)

Hmm.

- On the old-fashioned side, perhaps.

- But so full of charm.

- (mumbles)

- (speaks Italian)

- This door leads into the house,

of course, because the kitchen--

- I like it immensely (speaks Italian).

- Oh, I love to hear you speak Italian.

Especially since the Contessa
said it was the very best.

- This used to be the old coach house.

As you see, the double
doors have been retained.

And just outside is the garage
with a nice flat above it.

- Oh (speaks Italian) for
my chauffeur and his...

Mmm, yes, yes, yes, very, very convenient.

I do like those great double doors.

- It really sounds as though
you mean to buy the house.

I must be there when Mapp gets told.

She'll say, "Darling Lulu, what a joy,"

and then fall down, foaming at the mouth.

(Lucia laughs)

- If you'd like to go on, ladies,

I'll just lock up the front.

- Come along, Irene.

Just look at that vista.

- I don't usually like them.

Speaking as an artist, of course.

- There's no such view in Riseholme.

We're surrounded by hills.

I often think that Georgie's development

as an artist is starved there.

What do you think of his painting, dear?

- I don't think of it at all (laughs).

- I'm astonished.

I thought you'd take an
interest in encouraging him.

- It'd be hard work to show an interest

in Georgie's little valentines.

- Oh, do try.

Make him see what you
see, all that boldness

and freedom, women wrestlers and so on.

- I'll do my best if you ask me to, angel.

- But don't forget, no
mention of my staying

in Tilling until I have spoken to him.

- Well, if you've seen everything, ladies,

perhaps I could drive
you back to my office?

- (speaks Italian)

(Lucia sighs)

- Toodle-ip pom pom.

- Georgie, how wonderfully
bronzed you look.

- Thank you.

For Folkstone was heaven, after all.

I came straight here.

Cadman is dropping off
Foljambe at the cottage.

- (speaks Italian)

It all went without a hitch,

and the Contessa left this morning.

The letter of the Brocklebanks.

I saw at once what I could make of it,

and really, Georgie, I turned
it into a stroke of genius.

- Well, Lucia, it was a
stroke of genius already.

- My dear, the credit
should be all yours, then.

- Thank you.

- I copied it carefully, as if I had

scribbled it out without thinking.

Quaint Irene tells me it came as

a bombshell at the Wyses's party.

(both laughing)

Dear Elizabeth, I do not
suppose there was a more

thoroughly thwarted woman
in all Sussex than she.

- (laughs) And the amusing part is

that she was right all along about your

influenza and the Italian,
and my going to Folkstone.

- Georgie, she was malicious,
and that never pays.

So, I shall begin at once
to be kind to her again.

- (laughs) Well, no great problem,

we're only here for another
two weeks, aren't we?

- Don't you feel it will be a bit

dull, going back to Riseholme?

I mean, after here?

- Well, yes, to be quite frank.

I mean, no plots, no competition?

- Now, that Quaint Irene takes

such an interest in your painting.

- Does she?

- It was news to me, because her style

is so different from your careful work.

- Quaint Irene.

Well, fancy that, now.

She isn't pulling my leg, is she?

- Oh, no, no, no, no, nothing of the sort.

- Fancy that.

What a shame she's left it so late.

She will have to come and visit us

when we're back at Riseholme, won't she?

- Georgie?

- Hmm?

- I'm not going back to Riseholme.

- Not going back?

- I've sold my house there.

- Sold your--

- And I bought that lovely stone house

here, overlooking the marshes.

About a mile from the town center.

It's called Grebe, with charming
rooms and great character.

- Cadman, Foljambe, she can't come

back here every night from Riseholme.

It's 80 miles or more.

- I knew that parting from Foljambe

would be a great blow to you, Georgie,

but I can hardly be expected
to live where I don't want to,

so that you don't lose a parlor maid.

- It's not just that.

Riseholme would be
ditch water without you.

- Thank you, Georgie.

I was wondering if and when, as the

lawyers say, you'd think of that.

- Well, after all, you
decided to come and live here

and said nothing about how
dull it would be without me.

- Georgie Porgie, (speaks Italian)?

- (sighs) I'm not cross.

- Then why don't you settle here, too?

You'll have Foljambe, me, your career,

and this marvelous sense of not

knowing what's going to happen next.

You don't want to go back to Riseholme.

You said so yourself.

You'd molder and vegetate there.

- Well, it's different for you.

You've sold your house.

I haven't sold mine.

- You haven't tried, Georgie.

- Well, there it is.

I should just go back to
Riseholme without Foljambe or you.

Without you or Foljambe.

Oh, I wish I'd never come here.

- Georgino!

- Yes, and that's another thing,

I wish I'd never sent
you that Italian letter.

- Georgie!

- Well, if I hadn't sent it, your

reputation here would have suffered a...

- Irretrievable eclipse.

- Well, yes, it would.

And then we would have been
obliged to go back to Riseholme,

you and me and Cadman and Foljambe.

And everything would
have been alright again.

- Come.

(speaks Italian)

- No, I think I'll just
go back to the cottage.

If you don't mind.

I'd rather.

- Who's going to tell him?

- That's up to Mrs. Lucas, my love.

- I'm sure I don't--

- Ahem.

Good, I've, glad I've
found you both together.

- Yes, sir.

- You may have heard of
Mrs. Lucas's new plans.

- Yes, sir, that's why I came to have

a word with Dorothy, with Foljambe.

- With Foljambe, yes.

She's bought a house called Grebe,

way out at the back of
beyond on the marshes.

- So I understand, sir.

- You see, news gets about, sir.

- Yes, now, in two weeks time,

I shall be going back to Riseholme.

- Oh, sir!

- Yes, Foljambe.

- What am I to do?

- I'm aware of your predicament.

- Yes, sir.

- Now, what would the
two of you say to this?

You both come back to Riseholme,
and my car is the half

of you and your, your,
your fiance to drive,

and we take up the Riseholme
life where we left off.

- Thank you, sir, but I
couldn't agree to that.

Mrs. Lucas has always been the most

thoughtful and kindly employer.

It would be amiss if I deserted
her for no very good reason.

- Yes. Foljambe.

- I must go along with him, sir.

- Well, yes, yes, yes, of course.

I was only testing your
loyalty to Mrs. Lucas,

very old friend, that sort of thing.

Well done, flying colors.

- Thank you, sir.

You are a gentleman.

- I'd prefer that you didn't mention

a word of what I've
just said to Mrs. Lucas.

- Oh, no, sir.

- Of course if...

- Yes?

- It's no business of mine, sir,

but if you were to stay here, too.

- Oh, well, of course.

You're quite right, it
is no business of yours.

- I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir.

- And now, my love, you've
put the idea into his head.

- Avast there, Georgie.

Home is the sailor, home from the sea.

Come and talk.

- Hello.

- Have you seen Lucia, commodore?

- Yes.

- Has she told you?

- About staying here, you mean?

Yes.

- And buying Grebe?

- Yes, I believe she said
something of the sort.

- That's alright, then.

I'd promised not to mention
it until she'd seen you.

So, is this the parting of the ways?

- It certainly looks like it.

- Did you do any sketching in Folkstone?

- No, not much, just one or two.

- Do let me come and see them.

I love your handling.

- I didn't think you'd be interested.

- Oh, just because I'm
slapdash doesn't mean

I don't appreciate the traditional.

- Oh, but what a shame, I'll only

be here for another two weeks.

- What a shame.

We could have had such lovely confabs.

- Oh, but I don't think
you're slapdash at all.

- Hey, Mapp, Mapp, over here.

- Back again, Mr. Georgie?

How we missed you.

- Thank you much.

- What a beautiful picture, Irene, mine.

Oh, look, four skinned piggies
in a row, or are they sheep?

- News for you, Mapp.

- How do you think Lulu is
looking after her illness?

- Oh, she's quite, well, I
think, would you forgive me?

- Seems put out.

- I'll give you three guesses why.

It's by your Lulu.

- Not a relapse, I hope.

- Wrong. Two more guesses.

- Mmm, farewell musical evening?

- Wrong. One more guess.

- Skipped a hundred
skips before breakfast?

- Much, much nicer, heavenly for us all.

- Give over teasing and tell me.

- She's not going back
to Riseholme after all.

She sold her house, she's staying here.

She's bought Grebe.

- Oh, what a joy.

- Good afternoon, Mapp.

So, what's up?

You look as if you've seen a ghost.

- Oh, lovely.

She's not going away.

She's going to stop here forever and ever.

Come in.

(door slams)

- When you say she, you mean--

- Of course I mean.

Yes, steady on with my doors, or they'll

be some delapidations to settle.

And this is from her.

Oh, how kind of her majesty to

write to me with her own hand.

- Now, Mapp, don't get upset.

- Upset, why should I be upset?

Only this morning I worked
out that there would

only be another 15 days
before we were rid of her.

- But what does she say?

- Let's see what her majesty has to say.

"Now that I am quite free
of infection" (laughs)

"I can once again receive my friends."

More in the same vein.

"I also want you to be one of the first

"to know my change of plans.

"I have so fallen in love with your

"delicious Tilling that it is no use

"struggling to get free, and
I am buying a house here.

"I hope to see you again very soon."

(Mapp sniffs then cries)

- Mapp.

Elizabeth, dear, pull
yourself together, please.

- I am not aware that I am coming to bits.

But you must admit this is rather much.

- But if you let her upset you like this,

it means she's won, don't you see?

- Yes, I do see.

But what can I do?

- I'll bet you'll think of something.

- Yes, I must try.

(paper ripping)

- And I must be running along.

Au reservoir.

- Oh, don't.

- Mrs. Plaistow! Miss Elizabeth!

I was hoping to run into one or both.

That amusing guessing game
of yours, Miss Elizabeth.

My turn.

About Mrs. Lucas.

I'll give you three guesses.

- One's enough, you silly man.

We all know.

- Oh?

- Joyful news, isn't it?

- Yes, indeed, yes.

Delightful to know that, um...

- Yes, Major?

- You were going to say?

- Those parties, which
we've all enjoyed so much.

But Grebe's not just around the corner,

not like Mallards, dear Mallards.

- A mile away.

- Exactly.

You'll have to come to our
rescue, Miss Elizabeth,

when you're back in your
own house and look after me.

All of us, like you used to.

- Yes, dear, Grebe is a long way

out of Tilling in the middle of winter

just to hear some Mozart and eat a tomato.

- On my part, a little
Mozart goes a long way,

particularly if it is a
long way on a wet night.

- I find it a trifle sad, just when Lulu

has decided not to leave
us, that there should be

so much ill feeling about her telling us

to do this or that, or
listen to that and this.

- That's exactly what I meant.

- The question really is, is England

a free country, or is it not?

Will we allow ourselves to be
trampled on or will we not?

- Quai-Hai.

- Haven't we been happy all
these years, going our own way?

- Certainly, without a doubt.

- So, to begin with, we three won't

put our heads under the yoke.

- Count on my head, not.

- And I certainly shan't be going to

any pody muse at Grebe,
I promise you that.

- Off to golf, ladies.

Au reservoir.

- Good afternoon.

How nice.

- Still think the ceiling
should have been black.

- Not quite my style, dear.

Light and more light.

- The walls should all
be different colors.

Vermilion, emerald green,
aquamarine, yellow, lapis lazuli.

- Not practical, dear.

- Why not?

- There are only four walls.

- And what would you say to
different shaped windows?

- How different, dear?

- One a triangle, one
egg shaped, one jagged

as if a shell's come through the wall,

or how about a portcullis
instead of a front door?

- I won't be able to afford it.

- Why don't you arrange one
of the rooms here sideways.

- Sideways?

- Yes, you open the door and find yourself

walking on wallpaper with
pictures hanging on it.

Then the wall where the
window is will be whitewashed,

and this one a ceiling
and the window a skylight,

and the opposite wall will be the floor,

with furniture screwed onto it.

It'll be sideways, you see.

Ceiling to the left, floor
to the right, or vice versa.

- (laughs) Dear one, I think you

better stick to your painting.

- Lucia, you are too adorable.

Here I've been talking
the most abject nonsense

and you remain as calm as the moon.

(both laugh)

- Do please come in.

- Thank you.

- Here we are.

Make yourselves at home.

Well, I'll come straight to the point.

Would you consider
selling me this cottage?

- Well, now, I would have to
discuss that with Mr. Wyse.

Although, of course, the cottage is mine.

- Of course.

What about a long let, then?

- Unfurnished?

- Oh, unfurnished.

You see, I have already put up

my house in Riseholme for sale.

- It would be most pleasant to have

your manner still, Mr. Pillson.

We will certainly think about it.

- Thank you very much.

(jaunty piano music)

It's alright, Grosvenor, it's only me.

Oh, hello.

- Georgie, you are looking very a spry.

- Oh, how kind.

Now, I am told that
Miss Mapp is absolutely

rapturous about your staying here.

- Then she must have an
awful blister on her tongue.

(both laughing)

But everyone's very sad at your departure.

- How very kind.

Lucia, I've got some
wonderful news to tell you.

What I have wanted all these
years has finally come about.

- Dear Georgie, anything that makes

you happy makes me happy.

- After you told me your plans,

I telephoned Laidlaw's in Riseholme

and put up my house for sale.

- You didn't.

- An hour ago, this telegram arrived.

- You've had an offer.

- I've sold it.

- (laughs) Georgie.

A good price, I hope?

- Oh, a very good price.

And now, at long last, I
can go and settle in London.

- In London, Georgie?

- In London, Lucia.

Oh, Tilling and Riseholme
are things of the past now.

- What about Foljambe?

- Foljambe.

Oh, really, I can't think why
I made such a fuss about her.

London, just think of it.

All those concerts at the Queen's Hall

instead of our fumbling
little arrangements for four.

- What splendid news.

- Yes.

- I've always felt you were throwing

your life away in the country.

- Oh, I was.

Now tell me about yourself, Lucia.

- Oh, all I need is peace and quiet,

but you have so many
interests and liveries.

Now, a house or a flat?

- Oh, I haven't really thought about it.

- And Foljambe must be happy for you?

- Well, I haven't told her yet.

I came and told you first.

- How sweet of you.

I wonder if Woolgar and Pipstow's have

anything in London on their books.

- I shouldn't have thought so.

- You never know.

Let's go down and ask.

I'll run and put on my hat.

-[Georgie] Lucia!

- Yes, Georgie?

- You're too tiresome.

You don't believe a word of it, do you?

- Of course I don't.

I never heard such rubbish.

You're just teasing me.

- Well, it's true that I've
sold Riseholme, though.

- Then it means you're going to stay here?

- I suppose so.

- What about Mallards cottage?

Do you think Mrs. Wyse would sell it?

- No, but I have got a five-year
lease on it, unfurnished.

- Perfect.

It has all come out as I planned.

(laughs) Now, Georgino, if you have

nothing better to do,
let us have some musica?

- Oh, (speaks Italian).

- Yes. (laughs)

This is new.

Looks lovely.

I'll shall be terribly rusty.

I daren't touch a note
while I had influenza.

- Oh, no, of course not.

- Noble, noble Beethoven.

- Oh, well, that'll be a change.

Oh, yes, this does look nice.

Dum de dat da.

This is the piece you were practicing

when I arrived, isn't it?

- Georgie.

(both laugh)

Well, I think I'll be Georgino.

Since I've changed my plans,
I shall also change my will.

I shall leave Grebe to you.

And, well, a small sum of money.

- How very kind.

Oh, but I hope it will be
ages and ages before you...

- So do I.

(both laugh)

Now, I begin.

(speaks Italian)

(jaunty piano music)

- You glad I'm staying, Foljambe?

- Oh, yes, sir.

It would have gone to my
heart to leave your service.

- Oh.

So the same plan is in operation, eh?

You look after me during the day,

and you look after, I mean, you spend

the evenings about the garage at Grebe?

- Yes, sir.

When we're married.

- Of course.

Now, careful with it.

Careful with those musks,
they're very valuable.

- Sir.

- Mind the tapestries.

- What in heaven's name is that?

- An embroidered cover
for a hot-water bottle.

Isn't it pretty?

- Good God.

Always knew the man was a milliner.

- Everything removed, Grosvenor?

-[Grosvenor] Yes, Miss Mapp.

- I get my dear house back.

Oh, Cook.

Mrs. Lucas said she would let me have

her recipe for Lobster a la Riseholme.

- Yes, miss?

- She's been so busy moving into

Grebe it's probably slipped her mind.

Do you have it handy?

- I'm afraid not, miss, no.

- Well, don't you know it by heart now?

- Not exactly, miss.

You see, she always
finishes it off herself.

- Well.

When I come out to Grebe,
I shall pick it up.

- Very good, miss.

(everyone chatting)

(glass dinging)

(all applaud)

-[Irene] Speech, speech.

- No, no, no, no, no, no.

No speeches.

Just to say that for me
it is a double celebration

not only for me not leaving
your lovely Tilling,

but that my old friend, Georgie Pillson,

has also decided to stay.

-[Mrs. Wyse] Welcome, Georgie.

- That must be a toast.

Our new friends in
Tilling, Lucia and Georgie.

-[All] Lucia and Georgie.

- And so say all of us.

- Quai-Hai.

Ah, Grosvenor.

- Mrs. Lucas, I cannot forbear but to

congratulate you on this delicious dish.

- How kind.

Lobster a la Riseholme.

- I remember it from your first

dinner party at Mallards.

- It's sure right, isn't it?

- Oh, succulent in the extreme.

- Lucia's specialty.

- Now, Lucia, you're going to let us

into the secret at last, aren't you?

- Secret?

- The recipe, dear, the recipe.

- Padre, on what day does
Christmas fall this year?

- Now, Lucia, in Tilling
we all exchange recipes,

so that we can enjoy our favorite

dishes in each other's houses.

- There's definitely lobster.

(all laugh)

- That it obvious, Irenie mine.

- Oh, I spy cheese.

- Cream, of course.

- Shrimps as well as lobster, would it be?

- A particular kind of
spice, not quite sure which.

- And would there be, oh,
no, no, of course not.

- I was gonna suggest the same.

A drop of Sherry or Marsala.

- Anyhow, a masterpiece.

- Thank you, dear.

Of course, I put the finishing

touches to it with my own fair hands.

- It would be sweet of you
to let me have the recipe.

So good.

- Grosvenor, I think Miss
Mapp would like a little more.

- Uh, just a spoonful, then.

- Thursday.

- I attempted to concoct it once.

Not a success, I fear.

- Can you bear to guess, Mistress Wyse,

licking the final twist
of the wrist may be.

- Thank you, Padre.

It was inedible.

- Oh, no, my dear, it was a brave effort.

- Tomato.

- What was that, Miss Elizabeth?

- Still trying to guess, tomato.

- Give up, Mapp.

You need the recipe.

- Of course, and I'm sure you'll

let me have it, Lulu, now that

you're going to be staying in Tilling.

-[Mrs. Wyse] Secretly,
in the dead of night.

(all laugh)

- In a sealed envelope, what.

-[Irene] Or to bribe the cook

or steal it from the kitchen.

-[Padre] I'm certain
sure there are lengths

to which Mistress Mapp wouldn'ta stoop.

-[All] Ohhhhh.

(thunder crashes)

- Good gracious.

(rain pouring)

- Oh, God's (mumbles).

(drowned out by thunder and rain)

(people clamoring)

-[Man] Quick!

(thunder crashes)

In you go.

Lock the door.

(man laughing)

-[Padre] A great quantity
of water, you ken.

- Nothing like the Jumna in flood.

India, you know.

- Could I skriggle through?

- Pray, do.

- Where you off to, Mapp?

- Just my usual preprandial wander.

- In this weather?

- Oh, the worst is over.

Look at that dear patch of blue sky.

- Are you going to Grebe by any chance?

- I thought I'd glimpse
it in the distance.

Au reservoir.

- And I ought to be gettin'
to the village hall.

The yearly whisk drive again.

- That phony Scotch
accent drives me to drink.

Anyhow, I'm off to paint
the approaching apocalypse.

♫ A wandering minstrel

(thunder rumbling)

-[Cadman] Good day, Miss Mapp.

- Good day.

Where are you all off to?

- We're going to the whisk
drive at the village hall, miss.

Mrs. Lucas says we could all go.

- How very kind of her.

Is she at home herself?

- Oh, yes, miss.

She said wild horses wouldn't drag

her out on a day like this.

But seeing as the worst seems to

be over, she's gone for a little walk.

- Well, enjoy yourselves.

Hope you all win.

- Thank you very much, miss.

(thunder rumbling, rain pouring)

- Lulu?

(thunder crashes)

(rain pouring, water rushing)

(thunder crashes)

(Mapp cries out)

(paper ripping)

(rain pouring)

(thunder rumbles)

- Who's there?

Who's there?

- It's only me, Lulu dear.

I couldn't make myself heard at the

front door, so I thought I'd--

(thunder crashes)

I passed your servants on their

way to the whisk drive.

It's just that I thought I'd
like (drowned out by thunder).

- My God.

The bank's broken down.

Quickly, into the house.

Locked.

The servants, of course.

(Mapp gasps)

- We should be drowned.

- Rubbish.

The table.

Get on the table.

(glass breaking)

(melancholy music)

- No need to despair.

Keith Godstone went to warn the

fishermen to keep an eye open.

- And the lifeboat to be launched, I hope.

- Of course.

- Heaven knows I've seen some floods

on the Jumna, but this takes the cake.

- No warning.

Poor Lucia.

- And poor Elizabeth.

(sad orchestral music)

-[Padre] What news, Keith?

- None much, Padre, I fear.

None much.

- Somebody must have seen something.

- Oh, all the fishing
boats have come loose

of their moorings and
been dragged out to sea.

- And the lifeboat?

- We had to wait for the tide
to turn, but it's out now.

- Didn't you see anything, Keith?

- Aye.

- What exactly?

- Well, at first I thought
I saw a kitchen table.

Arse over tipple, begging
your pardon, ladies,

upside down, with two
females a'clinging to it.

With an arm around a leg apiece

and the other around each other.

- Yes, yes, go on.

- Well, I knew it couldn't be that.

- Heavens above.

- What did you think it was?

- Sea serpents.

- Sea serpents?

- Aye, sea serpents a'frollickin'.

Mind you, it did look
mighty like a kitchen table.

- Shades of Polonius.

- Oh, my missus had such a
table, and I said to her,

I said, "Now there's a funny thing."

- Yes, Keith, thank you, thank you.

You'd better get back to your post.

- Aye, well, I'll, uh, I'll bid

a good night to you all, then.

And I'll keep my eyes open.

- Fat lot of good that will do.

He couldn't guard a sand
castle, let alone a coast.

- Charity, Miss Coles, charity.

It is in rather special circumstances.

- Good evening.

Mrs. Wyse sent me down to invite

you all to a bite of supper.

- Well, I don't know.

Something may turn up at any moment.

- The fog is getting worse.

Mrs. Wyse thinks that nothing
more can be done tonight.

- (clears throat) I agree.

- It's very kind of Susan.

We accept, of course.

- Now, under the circumstances,
don't bother to dress.

- What I don't understand is, what was

Elizabeth Mapp doing at Grebe?

She was only going for a walk, she said.

- Well, the only thing I can think is,

oh, no, it can't be.

- Well, what? Out with it.

- Well, you remember last night.

- What, at Lucia's dinner party, you mean?

- Yes.

Well, you remember the episode
of, no, no, it couldn't be.

- Come, come, (mumbles),
the episode of what?

- The recipe that Mapp was
trying to squeeze out of Lucia.

The Lobster a la Riseholme.

- No, she'd never have parted with it.

- Well, why not, pray?

- On principle.

- Oh, rubbish you're all talking!

How could you chatter on
like this with Lucia--

- There, there, my child.

- I beg your pardon, but there it is.

I'll go home.

- Oh, poor thing.

Perhaps she's better off alone.

- But she does happen to be
very fond of Lucia, Mrs. Wyse.

- I'm sorry.

- (clears throat) What you are suggesting,

Mrs. Paistow, is that Mrs. Lucas

caught Elizabeth Mapp at Grebe,

rummaging about for that recipe.

- Yes, in the kitchen.

Hence the table.

- Nonsense.

- Well, it's a theory, isn't it?

- And a monstrous one at that.

As you know, Elizabeth is
one of my oldest friends.

To have her accused of--

- Well, wherever the truth may lie,

we must all hope for the best.

- Of course.

- Meanwhile, we shall
continue to apply ourselves

to the daily round, the common task.

- Quai-Hai.

(seagulls crying)

What's it been now?

A week?

- Five and a half days.

- I don't know what to think.

Upon my soul.

- Quite.

No news from any quarter.

- Tell me, is, um, Mallards a freehold?

- I believe that both Mallards and Grebe

belong to their respective occupiers.

- Oh.

Ah!

- While we're on the
subject, more or less,

I wonder when it will be appropriate

to hold a memorial service.

- A bit tricky, what?

- But if it's not held
soon, Tilling will have

become accustomed to the bereavement.

- Yeah.

- There, there.

- Oh.

-[Padre] Major!

- Oh, good God, man, you frightened me.

-[Padre] Look!

-[Major] Good God, yes.

- Yes, yes, this must be it.

- Damned odd coincidence if it isn't.

Better abandon our game, what.

- Yes, of course.

That is far too heavy for us to move.

- I shall telephone the
police from the clubhouse.

Come on.

- I thought it had best
be taken to the vicarage.

- Yes, I quite see your point, Padre.

What is found on the shore
belongs to the finder.

- Quite so.

- If it is a few oranges
in a basket, for instance,

because in that case, nobody
knows who the real owner is,

but we all know where
that table came from.

- You mean it should go back to Grebe?

Very well, I agree.

- Alright then, you chaps, you
know where Grebe is, do you?

- Too late if you want us
to get it there tonight.

- Well, I'll make it worth your while.

- My tea's waitin', and my
son's missus is expecting.

We'll get it there first
thing in the morning.

- Oh, how tiresome.

Alright, then, you'd better take it

and leave it in the yard
at Mallards cottage.

You know where that is, do you?

We've the socialists to blame for

that Bolshie attitude.

- (laughs) Certainly.

I wouldn't want to appear small-minded,

Mr. Pillson, but I don't quite see why

you should commandeer
it, even for a night.

- Well, I know it's
dreadful to speak about it

so soon, Padre, but, you see, Lucia

has left me Grebe and all its contents.

- No, my word, congratule, well,

well, of course the table
is yours, very proper.

Good evening.

- Oh, no.

You see, I think a fitting tribute

might be some sort of tablet fixed to it

with some suitable inscription.

- And leave it in the kitchen?

- Yes, when it's dried out and the

workmen have finished in there.

- So, what'll it say?

- Erm, "This is a table," um.

- True like this is the
house that Jack built.

What about, "It was on this table,

"in the winter of 1930,
that Mrs. Emmeline Lucas

"of Grebe and Miss Elizabeth
Mapp of Mallards--"

- No, no, no, no, no, it's too long.

Um, "In Memory of Emmeline
Lucas and Elizabeth Mapp.

"They went to sea--"

- Pure Edward Lear.

- Oh.

- It also suggests they were sailors.

- Well, poetry, then.

"And may there be no sadness
of farewell when I am bound."

- People will wonder why on earth

they embarked on a kitchen table,

and even we don't know that.

- Oh. (laughs)

I'd no idea it was so difficult

to think up a few well chosen words.

- Lucia would have thought
of something in a trice.

- Oh.

Mrs. Lucas has told me a little

of her intentions, Mr. Causten.

There we are.

Won't you please sit down?

Leaving me Grebe in her will,
and a certain sum of money.

- Quite so.

And now that she has
been missing for nearly

two months, I thought it was only right

I discussed certain
pressing matters with you.

- Yes, by all means.

- Grebe and its contents
you already know about.

The sum of money to which you referred

amounts to 80,000 pounds.

- 8,000 pounds?

- No, Mr. Pillson, 80,000 pounds.

- How very kind.

I had no idea.

- Mind you, it may be
quite some time before

the death of my client
can be legally assumed.

- Oh, as long as possible, of course.

- We shall be looking for fresh evidence.

- It's...

What does that mean, exactly?

- Oh, recovery by washing ashore or other

identification of the lamented corpse.

In the interval, the possibly late

Mrs. Lucas has left no provision

for the contingency we have to face.

- Contingency?

- If and when her death is proven,

her staff will receive
their wages up to date.

Until then, the estate will be liable

for the repairs to Grebe and all outgoing.

- Oh, yes, I understand.

Well, that follows.

- Here a difficulty arises.

- Difficulty?

- Yes.

There are two months wages
already owing to her servants.

- Well, I'd better pay them myself.

Wouldn't that be the proper course?

- Yes, sir.

I think it would, Mr. Pillson,
all things being considered.

Unless the servants are
discharged and the house shut up.

- No!

No, no, that would never do.

If Mrs. Lucas were to return and find

all her loyal staff gone,
oh, no, certainly not.

- Excellent, excellent.

- Well, we shall just carry on as if

she'd just gone off on a visit somewhere

and had forgotten to send
a check for expenses.

- We must keep in touch with each other,

Mr. Pillson, if either of
us should hear anything.

- Oh, quite.

- Oh, quite.

- Quite.

Yes, Grosvenor, that is quite correct.

10 weeks wages owing to you all.

- I only opened the bill,
sir, in case we were in danger

of being, well, unable to get any food.

- Or the electricity cut off.

- Yes, well, that is quite proper.

All these will be attended to.

Well, Cadman, all that concerns
us now is the kitchen table.

- Yes, sir.

- Let it stay outside, sir.

- What was that, Cook?

- Please don't bring it back in here.

Pretty it might be, but
it's most inconvenient

and much too lumbersome
to fit in, and I bark

my shins black and blue getting around it.

- But, Cook, Mrs. Lucas always
had a feeling for that table.

She said it brought her luck.

- Well, it didn't, did it, sir?

(Grosvenor cries)

- Well, come, come.

We mustn't give up, though.

- After all this time, sir?

- Well, I can't do with
that there table in this

here kitchen, and that's
all I've got to say.

- Oh, Major.

- Ah, good morning, old boy, good, good.

What's your tipple?

- Oh, it's a bit early for me.

Have you heard anything?

- Oh, alas, no, no, not
about our dear ones, no.

Except that I've had the most
extraordinary bit of luck.

- Yes?

- Well, not the way to put it, really,

but yesterday I had a visit
from Elizabeth Mapp's solicitor.

Wanted you to be the first
to hear about it, sir.

Come and sit down.

He told me of the provisions
in that dear woman's will.

In memory of our long
friendship, is how she put it.

- She's left you something.

- I tell you, I wasn't ashamed to

turn away and wipe my eyes.

She's left me that beautiful Mallards,

and a sum of 10,000 pounds.

There, what do you think of that?

- Oh, congratule.

But, I mean, in case--

- No, I know, I know.

If it turns out to be too true

that our friends have gone forever,

you're friend enough to be glad

that what I've told you
is too true, too, eh?

- Yes, of course.

And I've had a visit from Mr. Causten.

Lucia's left me Grebe.

- Grebe, by Jove, has she?

- And 80,000 pounds.

- 8,000 pounds?

- No, that's what I thought at first.

80,000 pounds.

- Good lord.

What a monstrous fortune.

Well, I, I, my congratule, same to you.

What on earth are you going
to do with all that money?

- Oh, nothing, not until
I know it's legally mine.

- Really?

I shall get a motor.

And then there's Mallards to think about.

Probably let it furnished,
servants and all.

What, oh, 10 guineas a week?

Why not, she got 15 last summer
from the other poor corpse.

- Major, I don't really think you should.

If Miss Mapp came back and found

she couldn't get into her own house.

- Oh, God grant she may come back.

- Oh, yes.

- Still, when the time comes, I

shall go and live there myself.

- Well, there may be
quite an interval yet.

- Yes, well, we'll see, we'll see.

In the meantime, Quai-Hai!

(gentle orchestral music)