Original subtitles

.

Of course, these things never happened.

Not in this life.

Argh!

In this life there's a new baby.

Jimmy.

His brother, Teddy, is asleep.

And so is Pamela.

Ursula is trying not to sleep.

Her dreams are...

..challenging.

CLOCK TICKS

TICKS GROW LOUDER

URSULA GASPS

SHE BREATHES HEAVILY

DOOR OPENS

What are you doing up?

Can't sleep.

More bad dreams?

Come here.

You know, only very special people have powerful imaginations.

You're extra interesting.

It's a bit of a burden, but that's the way to think about it.

I think I dream about dying...

..because I've already died.

Lots of times.

I assure you, you haven't.

I would have definitely noticed.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

How was London? How were your friends?

Boring.

I want Ursula to see a psychiatrist. Why on earth do you say that?

You talked me out of it before, when she pushed Bridget down the stairs.

You are not talking me out of it again.

There's something wrong with her.

She's a little introspective, that's all. And it's no bad thing.

She's always down in the dumps and she has these terrible dreams.

We cannot assume this will just pass. She'll grow up soon enough

and we need her mentally sound as she moves through the world.

Let us not forget that unscrupulous men lie in wait,

ready to take advantage of women

who don't have their head screwed on correctly.

How would we even locate a psychiatrist?

Major Shawcross in the village recommends a chap up in London.

Some of his men came back with very bad nerves.

He mentioned it to me in passing.

The way I heard it, it was Shawcross that came home

with a bad case of nerves.

I just want her to be happy.

The psychiatrist recommended was in London.

It was decided that Ursula could be put on the train by her mother

and met at the other end by her aunt, Izzie,

even though both Sylvie and Hugh doubted that Izzie

was sufficiently reliable to be in charge of a child.

Sylvie disliked Izzie, although she tolerated her for Hugh's sake.

Don't talk to anybody, especially to any men.

If Izzie isn't waiting for you at the platform,

you come straight back home, do you understand?

Izzie had managed to get a job

writing a weekly column for a newspaper.

She wrote under the pseudonym Delphine Fox

and called the column Adventures of a Modern Spinster.

Ursula!

Isn't this exciting?

Two ladies alone in London. Whatever shall we do?

What adventures lie in wait?

You have to take me straight to the doctor.

Delighted.

So thrilling.

The talking cure is quite the thing, you know.

Perhaps don't mention to your father that I brought the motor.

He seems to have very little confidence in my abilities,

even though I managed to drive an ambulance throughout the war,

sans mishap, in another country, no less.

Of course, the real reason he doesn't like me driving

is the little green eyed monster. Am I right?

What?

Oh, he's jealous. He wants an automobile himself.

Your mother will not allow it. Am I right?

I don't know.

Very politic answer.

I'm glad I've been tasked with the grave responsibility

of shuttling you from A to B.

I know that I am considered by your mother mad, bad and dangerous

to know, but I thought we could be special chums. What do you think?

Pamela is a little dull, all that tennis and cycling.

No wonder she has such sturdy ankles...

CAR HORN/LOUD CRASH

SCREAMS

IZZIE GASPS Aargh!

Cut it! Cut it!

The baby nearly died.

God wanted it back.

ETHEREAL MUSIC

Argh!

Aargh!

Ursula?

I think what we're saying, Izzie... Mm. ..is that we'd prefer

you don't reference our children in your column.

They are not your children. For goodness' sake.

They are imaginary children that I've invented

in my persona as Delphine Fox,

author of Adventures of a Modern Spinster.

The column's most awfully popular, by the way.

Don't even write about my imaginary children.

Pamela, what are you doing with your feet?

It's the way to shape the ankle, according to the Modern Spinster.

The Modern Spinster is not a person from whom anyone

with any sense would take advice. So glad I came.

Besides, you're too young for shapely ankles.

I'm nearly the same age as you were when you married Daddy.

Children, go inside for tea, would you?

Izzie, Sylvie and I were wondering if you might do us a small favour?

Ursula needs to take a weekly trip to London.

We thought if we put her on the train, you might take her off

and deliver her to a Dr Kellet on Harley Street.

What's wrong with the poor darling? Malade?

She's fine.

BABY CRIES

Lovely ankles.

What else do you see in her? Sylvie is worried about Ursula.

She seems to think that...

I don't know how to explain it and I can't really,

but that she has been here before.

She suffers from an extraordinary amount of deja vu.

Clairvoyant!

Oh, we should set her up in a gypsy caravan.

Crystal ball, Tarot cards. IZZIE LAUGHS

Ahem. HUGH CHUCKLES

So who's Dr Kellet? He's a psychiatrist, is he?

Apparently he helped a lot of men after the war.

Oh.

How did you hear about him?

Were you a patient? No.

A friend put us in touch.

You must have seen some terrible things in France, Hugh.

I know I did.

I prefer to focus on the daffodils.

Personally...

..I've thought Ursula should see a psychiatrist

ever since she pushed the maid down the stairs.

Do you... Do you think that we should mention that occurred?

It is odd.

Thrilling, but odd.

Emancipated hem lines?

What does it mean? She's a fool.

It will be a miracle if she meets that child's train.

She'll forget about it. She'll be off gallivanting.

Do you know why they're really sending her to London?

They want a doctor to look in her head?

They've realised she's touched. What are you talking about?

I overheard a discussion.

She's not touched. She's a bit of a worrier.

And so what? Some people are born that way.

And it bespeaks great intelligence.

I have a belief about Ursula.

You remember she was born not meant for this Earth.

The cord wrapped around her neck like a serpent.

My belief is that Ursula is at least partly of the spirit world.

Ha! How do you account for her pushing me down the stairs

to save me from the influenza?

That was an inventive excuse for mischief,

and I will account for your nonsense right now.

Irish fiddle-faddle.

She has the sixth sense

and there's no doctor in the world that can magic away that.

Ursula!

He seems to have very little confidence in my abilities,

even though I managed to drive an ambulance throughout the war,

sans mishap, in a foreign country, no less.

Hang on.

Nervous? I'm fine.

CAR HORN

Oops.

So...

..I hear you tried to kill your maid.

Tea?

I'm not Russian.

Far from it. I'm from Maidstone.

I visited St Petersburg before the Revolution.

When I spoke to your mother on the telephone,

she told me that you often dream you're dying.

She told me that you once confided in her

that you had been here before.

Is that right?

Do you think you have been here before?

Sometimes I think that.

Tea?

You see, I remember you saying "Tea?" to me before.

Just like that.

Yes, I said it last week.

Oh.

Of course.

Snow?

Yes.

Interesting.

Everything's familiar somehow...

..no matter where I am or what I'm doing.

Inside, I have this terrible fear...

..all the time.

A darkness within?

From a scientific point of view, perhaps the part of your brain

responsible for memory has a little flaw.

A neurological problem

that leads you to think you are repeating experiences.

So I'm not really dying and being reborn.

I have no idea.

Perhaps there is a neurological blip in your brain

that causes you to believe you have been here before.

Perhaps you have been here before and your dreams are memories

and reminiscences - premonitions.

We may never know.

Have you heard of Buddhism?

Perhaps you're remembering another life.

Of course, the disciples of the Buddha

don't believe you keep coming back as the same person

in the same circumstances, as you feel you do, but...

..most ancient religions adhered to an idea of circularity.

The snake with its tail in its mouth and so on.

Are you cured yet?

Must be by now. It's been an age.

Come on. I told your father you'd catch a later train.

Let's have some fun.

# Sometimes I sit and sigh

# And then begin to cry

# Cos my best friend... #

You're turning out to be quite pretty.

You must have it cut.

You should come and see my coiffeur. He's really very good.

You're in danger of looking like a milkmaid

when really, I think you're going to turn out to be deliciously wicked.

Cigarette?

I'm ten.

# I'll tell you folks

# There ain't no change in me

# My love for that man

# Will always be

# Now I got the crazy blues

# Since my baby went away

# I ain't got no time... #

Listen, I know that I am considered by your mother

mad, bad and dangerous to know, but...

..I thought we could be special chums. What do you think?

Pamela is a little dull, all that tennis and cycling.

No wonder she has such sturdy ankles.

Tres sportif, I'm sure, but still.

Oh, and the boys are... Well, boys.

But you are interesting, Ursula.

What do you think?

Yes.

Special chums.

Nice time with Izzie?

Yes.

Ta-da.

You did it.

Your mother considers it ruinously expensive.

She's not to be trusted, you know.

Who? Izzie.

Press that.

ENGINE STARTS

Right.

The war has made your mother parsimonious, I'm afraid.

If she had her way, we'd live on her eggs and chickens.

Whereas I, on the other hand, have seemed to become less prudent.

Not an admirable trait for a banker, she says,

but still, carpe diem and so on.

Eh, little bear?

Ursula saw Dr Kellet for several years.

Eventually, Sylvie and Hugh decided that paying a man

to discuss life's mysteries with their daughter

was no longer necessary.

Ursula was noticeably more cheerful

and so considered cured.

On the morning of her 16th birthday,

the world felt crisp and fresh.

She was growing up.

CAR HORN

Ahoy!

Maurice was down for the weekend.

He was in his last year at Oxford, where he was reading law.

Good show, coming for Ursula's birthday.

Is it Ursula's birthday today?

Isn't that why you're here?

No. Coincidence.

Right.

Right, yes, do follow.

Ah, chaps, these are my brothers, Teddy and Jimmy.

Gilbert, Howard, don't annoy them.

Call me Howie. Everyone does.

And there's my old mater.

You are far too young to be anyone's mother.

I know.

Yet we have managed five children.

Sisters?

With names.

I'm Pamela. This is Ursula.

Gilbert and Howard, you'll have to double up in Mrs Glover's old room.

Let me show you upstairs. Call me Howie.

You can go top to tail.

All right.

Why are you so gimpy?

Twisted my ankle. Hockey game.

Huh.

THEY GIGGLE

THEY LAUGH

Slow down.

Sh.

I've seen a snail move quicker than that.

The fact that Howie was American gave him a special kind of glamour.

Pamela was more drawn to Gilbert, which surprised Ursula.

She thought he looked a bit undercooked.

Stop it! You stop that now!

Ooh! Ooh! Stop that. THE GIRLS LAUGH

Meeeeaow! Woof, woof, woof! Woo!

Woof, woof, woof!

Whoa! Whoa!

That's actually my ball.

Watch this!

Hey, boys, you're playing like a little girl. Come on!

Hey!

I say, they're rather gorgeous, aren't they?

Can I have one?

It's the wrong kind of football! We are not in America. Here we go.

URSULA LAUGHS

Who's that? Ursula loves this music.

Do you? I had no idea.

# I hate to see... #

That's far too grown-up! Ursula wears flannelette.

# ..sun go down... #

St Louis Blues.

Listen to that cornet.

CORNET PLAYS

# I hate to see... #

Joie de Femme, new by Clermont. Divine!

Far too grown-up. Will Ursula be allowed to keep anything?

I really don't know.

Teddy, a dance? No.

Oh. Jimmy?

URSULA LAUGHS

And she's definitely too young for that.

Where did you get the money for all this?

The column doesn't pay that well. Did you steal it?

Ooh, the jive is jumping.

We're hungry.

Mrs Glover, could you facilitate nourishment for these young men?

HOWIE CHUCKLES

URSULA GIGGLES

Essence of stag. Trucking mud everywhere.

Well, they didn't fight in the war. That's a good thing.

No matter how unsatisfactory they turn out.

Ooh!

LAUGHTER

CHEERING

Happy birthday, little bear.

Happy birthday!

This present is for Teddy.

Me? Yes, you, darling boy.

Go on, unwrap it. It won't explode.

"The Adventures of Augustus."

By Delphine Fox.

Mwah. Why is everything an adventure with you?

Because life is an adventure, of course.

I would say it's more of an endurance race

or an obstacle course.

All right, dear. Not that bad, surely.

That's Augustus.

I based him on you.

Me?!

I have a publisher.

I have money, Hugh.

You don't need to worry about me any more.

DOOR SLAMS

HUGH AND SYLVIE ARGUE

Do you want to go for a walk?

It's a bore with my crutches.

I'm looking for the ball. It was your kid brother's.

I think we lost it in the... Shrubbery.

How old are you?

16.

It's my birthday.

You ate cake.

You're shivering.

It's freezing out here. I can warm you up.

"Kiss" seemed too courtly a word for what Howie was doing.

He prodded his enormous tongue like an ox's

and she was amazed to realise that he was expecting her

to open her mouth and let the tongue in.

Howie! URSULA GASPS

Howie!

Coming!

But she decided it didn't matter.

To be kissed on her 16th birthday,

and in such an overlooked way,

was still a considerable accomplishment.

Ursula thought of Howie quite often.

It was not so much the physical Howie

but the fact that he had been thoughtful enough

to try and find Teddy's ball.

Hey, kid!

What are they doing here? I don't know.

We're going to London to help with the strike.

I didn't realise your politics put you on the side of the workers.

What? No, no, no, no, no.

We're going to drive buses and trains

and whatever else it takes to keep the country running.

I didn't know you could drive a train, Maurice.

I'll be a stoker, then - put the coal in. It can't be that difficult.

They're not called stokers, they're called firemen,

and it's a very skilled job.

I hear you didn't get into Cambridge. Probably best.

We don't have enough scones. For God's sake!

We need warning, Maurice.

I'm not hungry.

I was looking for a bathroom.

Well, we only have one. It's not up these stairs...

Pretty girl.

No... Sh.

It's OK.

HOWIE GASPS

English girls, you really are something.

Goodbye!

CAR HORN

Imbeciles.

What happened to the good-looking one? Gilbert.

Sent down, apparently, for an indiscretion. What indiscretion?

Well, the definition of an indiscretion

is you don't talk of it afterwards.

Feel like going for a walk?

No. Thank you.

Are you all right? Mm-hm.

Weeks passed.

She took care to mask her misery.

Questions would have been intolerable.

I need to talk to you about something uncomfortable.

I know you've been out of sorts all summer

and I expect you're probably nervous with Pamela going away.

Things will be different.

However...

..we mustn't eat our worries.

It's just puppy fat. Even I had it.

But it won't go away by itself. It has to be addressed.

SHE SOBS

I thought this was the express.

This is the London train.

I know it's odd, but...

..she just turned up on the doorstep, the lamb.

I think she wanted to see me.

Pay a visit.

I'll take her to see some museums and so on, and the theatre.

Nothing risque.

Now, don't be such a mean old woman, Hugh.

Brandy and butter toast.

All I could rustle up at such short notice, I'm afraid.

# ..what she's at

# She give a dance

# Every Friday... #

You're such a fool.

There are ways, you know?

Things one can do.

Prevention better than cure and all that.

# The fun had just begun

# But she walks... #

No-one told Ursula what would happen next.

Remove your shoes and undergarments.

Ursula supposed the baby would come out

with a certain amount of difficulty.

She presumed it would be wrapped in a shawl and placed in a cradle

before being given to a nice couple who longed to have a baby

as much as Ursula longed not to have one.

There was no sign of a cradle waiting anywhere.

Up on the operating table with your feet in the stirrups.

Stirrups? Up you get.

I'm having an operation?

But I'm not ill.

Count down from ten to one. Why?

Ten, nine...

..eight, seven...

..six...

Five.

Four.

Ooh!

IZZIE LAUGHS

There we are.

Shoes off.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Oxtail soup.

I got it from a tin! Ha!

Right...

..there we are.

Oh, God.

You're not cut out for this sort of thing. It's all right.

URSULA RETCHES

SHE BREATHES HEAVILY

SHE GROANS

BANGING ON DOOR

Where is she?

In the bedroom. She's sleeping. Hugh...

Hello, little bear.

You've got a bit of an infection. We'll get you to a hospital.

Not the hospital.

I'll be prosecuted. Good!

I hope they jail you and throw away the key!

You're all right.

Ursula.

How could you?

ETHEREAL MUSIC

URSULA GASPS

We'll say no more about this, little bear.

We will tell people blood poisoning.

Devilled kidneys for strength?

You get into bed and I'll bring them up.

Yes, go to your room, Ursula.

What's wrong with Mummy?

And you remember the night she was born

and the cord wrapped around her neck, and what did I say then?

I said God surely wants that baby back

and now He's poisoned her blood.

He'll take her, you mark my words.

I'll be off if there's nothing more I can do for you.

That's fine, Mrs Glover.

Good that she's home safe and sound.

Now, you'd think with an illness like that and death at hand,

that it would make mother and daughter closer,

but it's had the opposite effect.

And why would that be...

..George?

A mystery.

Blood poisoning?

How did you get blood poisoning?

I don't know.

Why did you just disappear like that

and then manifest at Izzie's of all places?

I'm tired.

Can you turn off the light?

I'm off to university soon...

..then you won't have anyone to talk to.

I was going to have a baby.

Howie.

Where?

In our room?

On the stairs.

It was strange.

Strange how?

There's really no use in talking about this, so...

Izzie helped me with the baby.

An abortion? An illegal abortion?

Gosh, no wonder Mummy's angry.

Strange, how?

It was very...

..quick.

Did he force you?

You should tell.

What does it matter?

He's gone back to America.

I don't want to think or talk about it any more.

Please.

I may as well see what the chickens have left us.

I'll go with you.

I'm not going back to school.

I just can't.

I'll take a secretarial course.

I found one that's very reasonable.

I think that's very wise.

Also, I think I'd like to see Dr Kellet again.

He's retired, I believe.

Did he leave a forwarding address?

I'm sorry.

Iterate. TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Iterating. TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Reiteration. TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Reiterated. TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Reiterating. TYPEWRITERS CLACK

No peeking.

The only way to stop looking at the keys

and slowing down your speeds

is to type blindfolded.

Dear sir. TYPEWRITERS CLACK

I brought your letter before the board of directors

at their meeting yesterday.

But after some discussion...

..they were obliged to postpone further...

..consideration of the matter...

..until the next directors' meeting...

..which will be held...

She got a job as a secretary in a big importing company.

She made no friends.

Her first glass of wine was an experiment.

It was a private act.

Intimate, solitary and enormously comforting.

She was a secret drunk in a matter of weeks.

MUSIC: Black Bottom Stomp by Jelly Roll Morton

Oh, my. How awful for you. Let me help you.

The day Ursula met Derek Oliphant, she was stone-cold sober.

She simply hadn't seen the pavement slab.

Her hands were full of grocery shopping,

acquired hastily in a lunch hour,

and her instinct was to save the groceries rather than herself.

You have blood all over your nice peach scarf.

Is that the colour?

Or is it salmon?

Three months later, Ursula and Derek were married.

"She's mistaken gratitude for love," Sylvie thought as she watched them.

Sylvie had married Hugh when she was 18,

not long after her family descended into poverty.

She had met him at the post office counter -

a rising star in the prosperous world of banking.

The epitome of bourgeois respectability.

She was beautiful but penniless.

Hugh had offered her a life.

In sickness and in health. URSULA: In sickness and in health.

To love, cherish and obey.

To love, cherish and obey.

Till death do us part.

Till death do us part.