All language subtitles for Mapp & Lucia Season 1, Episode 5 « The Owl and the Pussycat » (itv 1985 UK) (ENG SUB ENG).en

(elegant music)

(horn honking)

- Get out of the way, you damn fools!

Out of the way, Pillson!

God, I always knew that
would happen to me.

Get out of my way!

- Now he's got his
motor, he seems to think

that nobody else should
use the road at all.

- Something of a menace, I agree.

- You think he might have
got something a bit better,

with 10,000 pounds as
good as in his pocket.

- I hear he's going to
put up his house for sale.

- Yes, and auction his furniture.

Not that that'll be much
to write home about.

A few moth-eaten old tiger skins.

- That can only mean one thing.

- Exactly.

Counting his chickens
before they're hatched.

- Hello?

Hello?

Any...

Oh.

- Morning, Mr. Pillson, sir.

- You know my name.

- Small community, sir,
can't keep much to yourself.

- Oh, no.

- My name's Wetherby, like
my dad here before me.

- Oh, well, how do you do?

- Looking for something for
one of the ladies, then?

- Yes, well, both, actually.

- Both, eh?

Anything particular in mind?

- Well, I thought
something rather like this,

but I see that's already spoken for.

- Ah, no, sir, that were a disappointment.

I carved it special-like,

for Major General Bartelmy-Grayson.

- To commemorate himself?

- Yes, sir, but uh, he died
before he could pay for it.

So it's going begging, as you might say.

- What about the lettering?

- The leads, sir?

They come off easy enough.

- Do they?

Well.

In that case, I'll take it.

- A pleasure, sir.

And the inscription?

- Yes, I have it here.

- Oh.

Thank you, sir.

This stone, capital S, was
erected by George Pillson,

in loving memory, capital L capital M,

of Emily Lucas and Elizabeth Mapp.

Lost, capital L, at sea,
capital S, in 1930, full stop.

In death, capital D,
they, the lot in capitals,

were not divided, capital D.

- That's right.

Capital.

Well, au reservoir.

Let me know when it's finished, won't you?

Yes.

- You sure you won't have another snort?

- Oh, no thank you, Major.

- Wonderful stuff.

Pre-war.

- It's too kind, no.

- Should see the cellars here.

Vintage wines, marvelous.

No idea Elizabeth was a connoisseur.

Bless her heart.

- Major, I really came to say

that I've decided to erect a memorial

to the memory of Lucia and Miss Mapp.

- Have you, by George.

To both?

- Well, yes, I've thought
it over very carefully,

and I've decided it should be to both.

- Spiffing idea.

- Thank you.

Something on the lines of
the cenotaph in London,

as a matter of fact.

- Ah, yes.

Not so large.

- Well, it's.

The same style, yeah.

- Spiffing idea, well done.

- Thank you.

So I was wondering.

It'll be placed in the
churchyard next week,

and the padre has agreed
to make a short address

of dedication.

- Ah.

Never fear, old man.

I shall be there.

- So I was wond... you see, the memorial

has already cost me 25 pounds.

And as it commemorates your benefactress

as well as my own, I...

I was wondering wether...

- Quite, quite, I see
what you're getting at.

Hm, the thing is, I'm a bit strapped,

at the moment, old boy.

'Til all the legal
trappings have cleared up.

My motor and so on.

- Yes, I see.

Major, you won't mind my asking,

but have you actually moved in here?

- No, I don't mind you asking.

The answer is yes.

I've never been a man to be afraid of

chancing his own, que hi!

- Well, of course, it's
none of my business.

- My own house is up for sale.

Que hi!

Aren't you moving into Grebe?

- Oh, not quite yet, no.

No, I shall wait until
all the legal trappings,

as you put it, are out
of the way, I think.

- Oh, yes, well, you
must do as you see fit.

Blasted woman, where is she?

Withers!

- You've noticed, then.

- How could I help it?

- Well, I admit to a
slight miscalculation.

Having done the first name, I
had to make the second smaller

to get it on the same line.

- Everyone's going to think it's my doing.

- Shall I do them over
again, both smaller?

- No, no, no, there's no time.

Look, you better take
it along to the church,

and place it just outside
the south transept.

- It shall be done, sir.

- That's five.

- They were lovely and
pleasant in their lives,

and in their death they were not divided.

December, the flood.

January, February, March,
and soon it will be April

and springtime.

The two whom we mourn
today were as sisters.

Taking the lead in social activities

and dispensing their
bountiful hospitalities.

They were in the forefront
of all artistic pursuits

in Tilling.

One of them, Elizabeth Mapp,

had been known to us for many years.

The other was a newcomer,
but had wonderfully

endeared herself to us in
her brief sojourn here.

They were swifter than eagles.

They were stronger than lions.

- Most suitable, Mr. Pillson.

- In perfect taste.

- First-rate idea.

- Every Sunday we shall
pass it, and remember.

- Well, while we're all
gathered together, so to speak,

I should like to invite
those of you who were nearest

and dearest to the two
ladies to dine with me,

today week.

- But will you feel up to it, Major?

- Up to it?

- I think my wife refers to...

- Oh, well, uh, I mean, we've
just had a memorial service.

I'm sure the padre agrees with me.

Back to the daily round.

- Where?

- Where?

- Yes.

Where are we invited to?

- Oh, Mallards, of course.

Perhaps a rubber or two
of bridge afterwards.

Let me know, will you?

- One thing, Mr. Pillson.

Although I'm sure there's a
perfectly good explanation.

- Yes, I know what you're going to say.

Why is Miss Mapp's name
smaller than Lucia's?

- Exactly.

- Mr. Wetherby admits to
making a miscalculation.

- Did Major Benjy contribute
towards the expenses, Georgie?

- Matter of fact no.

But that has nothing to do with it.

- I'm sure it didn't.

- Anyhow, Georgie is behaving correctly.

Repairing Grebe, paying the servants.

- Admirable.

- Now, the question is,
who's going to accept

the Major's invitation?

- Oh, come, come, we mustn't be small.

I'm sure he means well.

- And maybe it is time
he got up out of it more.

- Aye.

You cannae mourn forever and a day.

- And after five months, the
padre's speaking Scots again.

(laughing)

- Goodnight, Mrs. Wyse.

So glad you think the living room

should be brightened up a little.

- What I said was...

- Ah, yes, quite.

- Goodnight, Mr. Wyse.

So sorry you lost.

- Luck of the draw, Major.

Somebody has to lose.

- A very noble philosophy.

- Especially since you won.

- Jolly decent of you to come, Miss Coles.

Not really your sort of thing, is it?

- Not any more, no.

Goodnight.

- Very good nicht to you.

- Goodnight, padre.

Well, I do hope you enjoyed yourselves.

- Just look at the time.

- Tell me, Pillson.

What did you think of
the Chateau Latour, 1918?

- Excellent.

- Yes, Elizabeth always did
keep a very good cellar.

- God bless her.

- Goodnight.

- So glad you could come
to my little housewarming.

- Housewarming.

A very callous nature, I'm afraid.

- I just don't understand it.

I mean, we should both wait until they are

legally declared...

Well, deceased.

- Night, goodnight!

- Bye, Major.

- What's the time, Withers?

- Getting on for one, sir.

- Then I shall sleep late tomorrow.

Goodnight.

- Goodnight, sir.

(playful music)

- Come along, dear.

- I think we'd better go
straight to Mallards, dear,

and have a nice cup of tea.

- What a good idea.

And after that rancorous
espresso on the boat.

Then you can telephone Grebe

and tell them to send the motor for you.

- I shall ring up Georgie, too.

- Oh, look.

There's the sun just catching
the top of the church tower.

- So it is.

The dear church tower.

- Little did I think I should
ever see Tilling again.

- Really, dear?

I never had the slightest doubt.

- But if we hadn't bumped
into the boat in that fog...

- Hmmm, quite, dear,
but we did bump into it.

Pity it wasn't British.

But drowning beggars can't be choosers.

- Look at that.

You don't suppose anything has happened?

- Oh, no, of course not.

He's probably just moving house.

- But Major Benjy's
lived here for 25 years.

Why should he move?

Oh, look, a new stone.

Who do you think has died?

- Good heavens!

It's us!

- So I observe.

- I never heard of such a thing.

Very premature of whoever it was.

- I'm puzzled to know why my name is

in such exceedingly small letters.

I call it impertinent
as well as premature.

I'm sure Major Benjy had
nothing to do with it.

- Come along, dear, let's hurry.

Think how surprised everybody will be.

- Come along, I'm cold.

(knocking)

My servants all sleep on the top floor,

but they'll hear us if we go on.

Listen.

I think I can hear someone on the stairs.

Yes, there.

- Now look, my man, what's all this about?

How dare you wake me up at...

- How dare you be in my house?

- Oh my God.

- Don't answer, you wretch.

You couldn't wait to step
into a dead woman's shoes.

You had to tear them off my living feet!

Out of the way!

- Why, Miss Elizabeth!

- You heard about my will, did you?

Well, it will be revoked as soon as

my lawyer's office is open,
I can promise you that!

- But where have you been?

- On the Gallagher bank.

- The Gallagher?

- Fishing.

- No, you cannot come in,
off to your own house.

- If you'd at least let
me say how happy I am...

- Get out!

- Is that you and Mrs. Lucas,
it is Mrs. Lucas, is it not?

- It is.
- Be off with you!

- But Miss Elizabeth, my clothes!

- Go away, shoo!

Ah, here's Withers.

Withers, we've come back.

- Oh, Miss!

Is it you?

Oh, fancy.

- Yes, it's me and Mrs. Lucas.

- What a surprise!

Oh, good morning, madam.

- Aren't you usually up and about

at this hour of the morning?

- Oh, yes, miss.

But the major gave a party last night,

and it went on into the small hours.

- A party.

- Yes, miss.

Dinner and bridge and so on.

A housewarming, he called it.

- I see.

Now, get Mrs. Lucas and
myself a nice cup of tea

and then she will be going back to Grebe.

Do use the telephone,
dear, if you want to.

- Thank you, dear.

- That man hasn't been
sleeping in my room, I trust?

- Oh, no, miss.

The best spare bedroom.

- Then I will tell you
what you must do at once.

You will take all of his
clothes and golf clubs

and spirit flasks and
everything that is his

and fling them onto the pavement outside.

Get the housemaids to help you.

- Very good, miss.

- Then ring up the major and tell him

where he will find his belongings.

Not one foot will he set
inside my house again.

- Very good, miss.

- After our tea, I shall go
and rest for a few hours.

- Yes, miss.

But where have you been, miss?

- At sea, Withers, in
an Italian fishing boat.

- Fancy.

- Morning, Major.

Where would you be
wanting your milk today?

Mallards or your own house?

- Oh, chuck his smelly
old boots down there.

That's right, and his golf bag, Mabel.

No no, just drop it, drop it.

And girls, hurry up, bring out the rest

of his fusty old rubbish.

(phone ringing)

(muttering)

- What is it you want?

- Georgie, Georgino mio.

- What, who....

- It's Lucia.

I'm coming home, Georgie.

- Oh, my dear, is it really you?

- I'm very pleased to see you back, madam.

- Thank you, Cadman.

(shrieking)

Georgie, caro!

Georgie!

- I thought you were dead!

Now you're home safe!

- Luncheon at one, Georgie.

- Yes.

- I don't care what I said.

My house is no longer for sale.

- But Major...

- But me no buts!

Not for sale!

And send your man around to
remove your bloody billboard

this morning, do you hear?

(door closing)

(growling)

- Thank you, Withers.

(breathing heavily)

Take two hen lobsters.

(distinguished music)

- They've come back home, Benjy, Benjy!

Joy, joy!

You shouldn't have got rid
of your servants, old man.

Now when you shout que hi,
nobody will come running!

(knocking)

- Mr. Pillson, ma'am.

-[Lucia] Thank you.

- Oh, it's a miracle.

- Georgino mio.

- And how well you look.

Like a, like a bronze mermaid
from the bottom of the sea.

- Grazie.

(speaking foreign language)

- Oh, I should say so.

- Bubbly, don't you think?

- Oh, as it is a celebration, yes.

Allow me.

Now, tell me all.

- Oh, not all, Georgie.

I'm writing it down now this very moment.

- Oh, come now, Lucia.

- I shall take the village hall next week,

when all shall be revealed
about being marooned

on an Italian trawler
somewhere near Newfoundland.

- But there must be some little bits

you won't be able to divulge.

(giggling)

- Lots of little bits.

- Well, I want to hear those.

For instance, was Miss
Mapp terribly tiresome

all those months?

- Tiresome's not quite the word.

Difficult, really.

(laughing)

(distinguished music)

(birds squawking)

- And he's eaten a whole
row of my beetroot.

- Oh, what does a row of beetroot matter

after what you've been through?

The details, Mapp, the details!

- I shall write it all
down, and then read it out

at a big tea party here.

But don't breathe a
word, or Lucia will try

and steal my thunder.

- But surely there are some bits

that you can't mention in public.

- Indeed, yes.

There are things about Lucia that

I'd never dream of stating openly.

- We got onto the kitchen
table, really a perfect boat.

I don't know why they
don't make more like it.

Oh, no, take it away, I
never want to see fish again.

That's all we ever ate.

Merluzzo, that's Italian for cod.

- I don't want to be hard on her,

but what would have happened
if I hadn't been there

I dread to think.

- What did happen, what did she do?

- Little off her head,
perhaps, with panic.

As we were swept out to
sea, perhaps you heard her.

She shrieked.

- Au reservoir!

I cried, just wait 'til we get back!

Hoping someone would hear me.

- But we didn't!

What on earth did you mean?

- Well of course, that I
had discovered Elizabeth

in my kitchen.

- Hoorah!

That's what we wondered.

- I am not easily
shocked, but there was I,

quiet and calm, preparing
to meet my maker,

with this screaming hyena for a companion.

- And?

- Then into blinding fog, tossing
and pitching on the waves,

and then crash into the side of a ship.

- How awful!

I wonder you didn't upset.

- Gracious, you might have upset.

- Oh no, it was calm by then.

We just bumped into it
gently, no shock of any kind.

- I say, it was a bit unlucky
it was an Italian trawler.

- Yes, but I told
Elizabeth that they talked

in a very odd Neapolitan dialect

and that the captain wanted
to practice his English.

- Oh, clever old you.

(giggling)

- Italian rubbish.

She was absolutely flummoxed.

The captain had to speak to us in English.

- And?

- I shall write it all down
for my little tea party.

- Tell me more intimate
things about Lucia.

- We mustn't judge anybody, and I don't.

But oh, the nature which revealed itself.

- How?

- The Italian crew were
a set of very coarse,

lascivious men of the lowest type.

And yet every day, Lucia used to skip

and do her calisthenics
on deck in her bare feet.

- The nice captain promised to hail

any passing British vessel.

But we didn't see any.

- Oh, how did you get back?

- Oh, that was after we had spent months

fishing endlessly and were
chugging back to Italy.

It was bitterly cold.

And Elizabeth snored.

- Oh dear.

- She was determined to ignore
the tremendous opportunity

she was getting while I was
learning lots of things.

The Italian for port and starboard,

that's the right and left
hand side of the ship.

And how to tie knots,
and all sorts of things

of an interesting and practical kind.

- Then she sat with that sailor all day,

with her fingers entwined in his.

- No, actually?

- Yeah.

- And?

- He would pretend to
teach her a clove hitch.

- Oh no.

- That's a knot, isn't it?

Probably with some
improper meaning as well.

- And?

- Oh, such flirtation.

At her age, too.

But I don't judge her,
and I beg you won't.

Thank heavens a British ship
appeared in the nick of time

before she went too far.

- Georgie.

- Hm?

- You have had dreadful disappointment.

All that money.

- I haven't, how dare you say that?

(speaking foreign language)

- Haven't had a joke for a
long time with melancholy Mapp.

Apologize?

- All right.

But don't do it again.

I won't have it.

(bells ringing)

- Oh, how gratifying.

No, Diva, he's a wretched sponger,

and that's all there is
to be said about him.

- You used to be rather keen on him once.

- By hand, miss.

- Thank you, Withers, no answer.

It's from him.

I think I shall just tear it up.

- Oh, no no no!

You must see what he's
got to say for himself.

- Shall I read it to you?

- Well, of course, don't be so silly.

- "My dear Miss Elizabeth,
I want first of all

"to congratulate you on returning to us

"after privations which I know you bore

"with Christian fortitude," really.

- And?

- "Secondly, I want to apologize
for my atrocious conduct

"in your absence, which was unworthy

"of an officer and a gentleman."

Hmmmm.

- And?

- "Your forgiveness,
should you be so gracious

"as to extend it to me, will do much

"to mitigate my situation,"
and so on and so forth.

- Ah, I bet he didn't
find that easy to write.

- And I don't find it easy to forgive him.

- Well, he couldn't very well say more.

- Nor as an officer and a gentleman

could he possibly have said less.

- But now that you and Lucia
have come back from the grave,

Tilling society will fly to smithereens

unless we show a forgiving
spirit and begin all over again.

- I forgive him.

I shall ask him to tea in a day or two.

- Oh, good.

You see, now you have
him under your thumb.

- Whatever do you mean, dear?

- I mean marry him, Elizabeth.

You must know he's been
on the point of asking you

a dozen times.

- I know nothing of the sort.

- Oh, Mapp, you are aggravating.

Don't you see?

You'd be a married woman with
a well-controlled husband.

And Lucia would only be a widow.

(giggling)

(distinguished music)

(doorbell ringing)

- You see, Georgie.

- Mmm-hmmm?

- I think it is a duty laid
upon those who have passed

unscathed through tremendous adventures

to let others share their experiences.

- Mmm.

Well, I couldn't have
put it better myself.

- In fact, it is in those words

that I shall begin my little lecture.

- Oh, well, excellent.

- Then I shall make some allusion

to Amundson and Stanley.

The explorers.

I don't think my little homily will take

more than two hours.

- Oh, well, that...

Two hours?

- Or two and a half at the most.

- Well, anyway, you've put
together quite quickly.

- Well, Aristotle, you know,
the purging of the mind.

- Yes, of course.

- Apart from the fact that Elizabeth

will probably be dreaming up
something of the same sort.

- Oh, I'm sure of it.

Every time I go past Mallards,

I see her in the window,
reading something or other

over to Major Benjy.

- No.

Has she really made it up with him?

After the false teeth business?

- Oh, I'm sure of it.

The other night, I saw him
coming out after dinner

and going to lunch the next day.

(chuckling) More to
this than meets the eye.

- Or the tooth.

- Oh, Lucia.

(laughing)

- Anyway, can't be anything serious.

- Oh, wouldn't be too sure of that.

- Oh, no no no no no, impossible.

Such an ill-assorted pair.

(laughing)

- Oh, the afternoon post, madam.

And one by hand.

- Thank you, Grosvenor.

Ahhh, Georgino mio.

Oh, delicious complication.

- From Miss Mapp, I wot.

- You wot correctly.

She invites me to Mallards
at three on Friday

to attend her reading of Lost to Sight.

- Lost to Sight.

Oh, isn't that the...

- Exactly, the same day at the same time.

She goes on, "Major
Benjamin Flint has kindly

"consented to take the chair."

- And you'll be in the village hall?

- Booked.

- With Mr. Wyse in
command, oh dear, how sad.

- I must pretend that I
haven't received this yet.

- And invite her to yours.

- That's what I was gonna say.

And to sit on the platform with me.

(giggling)

- No, no, no, my dear.

I cannot allow you to
fatigue yourself any more

by reading your vivid account again.

I'm sure the padre will print
it in the parish magazine.

- What a good idea.

- Let Mrs. Lucas elaborate as
she may in the village hall.

- Which she most certainly will.

- But I have heard the truth
from your very own lips.

- You're not just, just saying this?

- Miss Elizabeth.

Elizabeth.

(bell ringing)

Do you know, I mean.

Have you ever thought about...

loneliness, loneliness.

- You mean the loneliness of loneliness?

- Exactly.

- You rang, miss?

- Yes, Withers.

Will you ask Coplan to bring
some more logs for the fire?

- Very good, miss.

- Oh, how lovely to be
in a beautiful house,

a fire, old friends.

Not many words needed.

Here is your chotapeg , you naughty man.

- The trawler we were in
was fishing for merluzzo.

That is the Italian for our English cod.

Now, the Gallagher bank is here.

(laughing)

Was there.

The longitude, no no no no,
the latitude, is 108 degrees.

(snoring loudly)

(audience chuckling)

- That's it, yes.

This is motoring.

- What on earth?

- It's Benjy-Wenjy plighting his troth,

or vice versa, or I'm a Dutchman.

(laughing)

(knocking)

- Excuse me, madam, Cadman has asked

if he could have a word with you.

- Yes, of course.

Ask him to come in.

Yes, Cadman?

You wanted to have a word with me?

- Yes, thank you, madam.

- Nothing serious, I hope.

- Well, yes, and no, madam.

- Something to do with the roads?

- Oh, no, madam.

- Um, tickety-boo, is it?

- Very much so.

It always puts me in mind
of a powerful greyhound

that's straining at the leash.

- Then it must be something personal.

- Yes, madam.

- You and Foljambe?

- Yes, madam.

- Change of heart?

- Oh, no, madam.

- Au contraire.

- Where, madam?

- You have agreed to put up the banns?

- Well, I was wondering, ma'am,

if we could dispense with the banns

and get married a little sooner.

- Oh, yeah.

I don't know what the padre will say.

- Why, I thought perhaps if you would

have a word with him, ma'am.

- What excuse can I give?

- I beg your pardon, madam?

- What reason can I
give to what looks like

this unseemly haste?

- Well, we would like to get it over with

as soon as possible.

- All right.

I expect it can be arranged.

- Thank you, madam.

- I should speak to the padre.

- Thank you very much, most appreciated.

- I hope you find your
quarters above the garage

to your liking.

- Oh, yes, ma'am, most comfortable.

- And Foljambe is happy there?

- Madam?

- I mean, will be happy there?

- Exactly, madam.

(organ music)

- Whatever you may say, I am
a woman of high principles.

- I have never suggested otherwise, Lucia.

And the higher the better.

All I'm saying is that if Miss Mapp

intends to marry Major Benjy,

surely it is a matter for them to decide.

- You mean you don't
believe in friendship?

- How can you say such a thing?

- If you were about to embark

on a (speaking foreign language),

would you honestly expect me to stay mum?

- Honestly?

- Yes.

- No.

- There you are.

What if I was?

Wouldn't you be the first to point out

the positive dangers?

- Well, yes and no.

- Which?

- No.

- I couldn't sleep with a clear conscience

if I didn't, what's the phrase?

- Put your all in?

- That's not what I was going to say.

Ring the warning bell.

You see, dear, it is only because

we are such friends that I
venture to speak my mind.

- You've heard our joyful news, then?

- Hardly news that one can keep secret,

is it, Elizabeth dear?

- From Diva, I expect.

So happy for me, she just had to tell

every Tom, Dick, and Harry.

- Thank you, dear.

- Well, you know what I mean.

- Oh, yes.

I have heard the phrase before.

- The banns will be read on Sunday.

- Does the padre approve?

- Approve of what, dear?

It's his job.

- Elizabeth.

I have to say this, and
then I shall say no more.

- Oh, Lu, what a shame.

What will Tilling do without your wisdom

and constant advice?

- Sarcasm ill becomes you, Elizabeth dear.

- So what exactly is this parting shot?

- You might call it the snare of marriage.

- Not the little talk at the village hall?

- Oh, if that is going
to be your attitude.

- With maps and latitude and longitude?

- I fully realize, dear, that
your life is your own to live.

But it can't have been an easy decision.

- Why not?

- Well, we all know that Major Flint

has been a bachelor for a very long time.

- From the day he was born, actually.

- But has nobody, Diva or
Quaint Irene, for instance,

pointed out a certain
weakness in his character?

- You mean his rabid fondness for golf?

- No, no, not exactly.

- Oh, you mean his
enjoyment of a drink or two.

- Well, not to put too
fine a point on it, yes.

- But when we are married, I
shall put a stop to it at once.

Or pronto, as you say in Italian.

- And you have discussed the situation?

- My dear Lucia, do you
think I'm the sort of person

to buy a pig in a poke?

- Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, I like to look
upon myself as your friend.

Don't forget that I too was married

but a few short years ago.

- Oh dear, is that a warning?

- Peppino, as I used to call him.

- Of course.

- We had a very good relationship.

- Oh, Major Benjy and I might
do a bit better than that.

Who knows what the temperature is

until one puts one's toe into the water?

- Oh, well.

I just thought I'd drop in.

- Glass of sherry, perhaps?

- Sweet of you, dearest, but no.

I have a hundred and one things to do.

- But we'll see you at the wedding.

- Mmm, if I am invited, Elizabeth dear.

- Do you have to ask?

Au reservoir.

(organ music)

(all conversing at once)

- A menu for luncheon?

How original.

- Lobster a la Riseholme, madam.

- Please start, everybody.

- Almost exactly right, Elizabeth mia.

- Almost, dear one?

- Are you sure you copied
the recipe correctly?

- Thou speakest in riddles, fair one.

- You must pop into my kitchen at Grebe

one afternoon when you go for your walk,

whether I am out or in,
and look at it again.

(laughing)

- She insists on teasing me.

- And if Cook is out,
you will find the recipe

in a book on the kitchen shelf.

- How kind.

- But you know that already, don't you.

- Thank you, dear, sweet of you.

(conversation resuming)

(lighthearted music)

- Here we go again.

(laughing)

- Silly billies.

- Georgino.

- Yes?

- Elizabeth mentioned to me that the, um,

elections to the town council
will be coming up shortly.

- Did she?

- Yes.

No matter.

And Georgie.

- Hmm?

- The city editor of the Financial Post

strongly recommends...

Oh, not important.

- What's that got to do
with the town council?

- All will be revealed.

(humming)

- Morning, Miss Coles.

- Morning.

(gasping)

Oh, blast.

(humming)

(gasping)

- Dr. Dobby, Dr. Dobby, please!

My canary's had a fit!

- Little chap taken a
turn again, Mrs. Plaistow?

- Que hi, old man.

- Dr. Dobby, please!

-[Narrator] One thing is certain.

Lobster a la Riseholme
will never be served again.

- Good morning, Lucia dear one.

- Good morning, Elizabeth, carissima.

-[Narrator] By either Mapp or Lucia.

(elegant music)