Original subtitles

I'm getting something.

It's not clear.

I think...

Yes, it's 'A'.

Does the letter 'A' means something to anyone here?

It's a man I think, trying to communicate.

Capital letter 'A'.

Not very well formed.

Could it be an 'H'?

'A' does sometimes look like 'H'.

You are right.

It's 'H'.

I've got it clear now.

'H'.

A definite 'H'.

Harry.

Someone dear to you.

My husband.

He passed over in January.

His handwriting were never easy to read.

Harry?

Are you there, Harry?

Is there something you want to say to this lady?

It's him. I know it is.

I can smell his pipe tobacco.

They're called house parties.

She calls up the dead for small groups in her own front room.

£10 admission.

It's unhealthy.

What do you want us to do?

Expose her.

It's not illegal.

Then it ought to be.

Taking advantage of the bereaved at a vulnerable time.

You have to excuse me.

That lady's poodle is lifting his leg on the bellis.

I won't won't be long.

Oi!

I can't sell those.

You've soiled the goods, you have to take them.

It's all work, I suppose?

There's work and work, Geoffrey.

Though we've not have much to do with the supernatural, until now.

Mother goes twice a week,

the expense is horrendous.

£20 it is.

And bus fares.

But it's worse.

The house parties are only a come on.

Folks go for the interest and then get hooked.

Mother's having private consultations at £25 an hour.

She must be getting some satisfaction or she wouldn't go back.

We're not meant to get satisfaction in this world.

We're meant to get through it as best we can and hope for better in the next.

I've asked Mother to come and live with us, but she refuses.

She says,

"Dad talks to her through a spirit guide and tells her to stay where she is."

Why don't you go to the seance with her?

She says the spirits won't utter, if they sense a hostile presence.

But if your dad really is talking to her...

We had him cremated.

He no longer possesses the equipment

to communicate through a spirit guide or anyone else.

Will you take the job or not?

Forgive me for mentioning this, I speak as I find...

Our fees aren't high,

although my husband keeps telling me we should put them up.

- But even so... - I can afford a week.

It will take longer than that.

Five days as work, you can slot it in with something else.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do.

We'll be in touch.

Henry! I want you in the perennials PDQ, so stir your stumps.

Exposing fraud, Mrs. Wainthropp.

Public service, if ever there was one.

She just wants to get her hands on her mother's nest egg

before it's squandered.

But if this medium really is a fake,

I suppose it's true she's taking advantage.

Eyes closed.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Deep breaths.

In.

Out.

Feel yourselves floating.

Eyes open.

Minds open.

Ready.

Ready to receive.

No. No. Nasty.

Nasty nasty!

Not now, Tiny.

Never at the beginning.

You're in the way.

Let the Red Indian gentleman through.

Who's Tiny? A spirit guide?

Just a little girl. She interrupts the others.

Shh. No distractions, please.

Nasty.

Is this an astral presence Tiny?

Something from a lower plane frightening you.

I see.

Don't cry, my dear.

It won't hurt you.

What happened?

It was Tiny.

She was frightened.

There's hostility in the room interfering with reception.

I felt it from the beginning but it's stronger now.

There's someone in this room wants to destroy our work.

Do you know the source?

Yes, I know the source.

I know which one of you it is.

I can feel the bad vibrations creating astral static.

I must ask you to go now please.

The spirits will not speak to those with closed ears.

Your money will be refunded.

Who was she?

I can't say, she's never been before.

Neither have I.

It's funny how you can't help feeling guilty.

Mrs. Rome looked right at me and I thought

I must be giving out hostile vibrations from my unconscious mind.

No, dear. Anyone can see you're the sympathetic type.

You're one of us.

You've sustained a loss.

It's surprising your husband didn't make himself known.

They usually do at the first sitting.

They've been waiting to make contact, you see.

My Harry came straight through the French windows

in a torrent of purple tobacco.

My husband never lacked putting himself forward.

You ought to try a private consultation.

It's more expensive, but it's well worth the money.

There's no competition.

Just you and the departed and the spirit guide.

What have you found out?

Not a lot.

They're mother and daughter. Not local.

They rented the house for the winter.

DCI Adams phoned. He wants to see you.

Tonight?

Tomorrow. Could you drop into the station at your own convenience.

- Aw, it's a lovely hat. - What about?

There's a Dundee cake his wife Mary wants you to try.

Alright.

You look like Marlene Dietrich when you wear that hat.

Don't be daft.

I never knew you were married.

If we're not, we don't get promoted.

Of course the marriage is mostly break up for want of attention.

Luckily my wife has a job with her own.

So it's just the children who feel neglected.

Now, tell me please Mrs. Wainthropp,

what's your interest in Maurika Rome and her daughter Sara?

I only went there yesterday evening for the first time.

Are you having me followed?

Hoa, I wouldn't dare.

No, I had someone of my own there.

A young woman?

She got thrown out.

And what's your interest then in Mrs. Rome and her spirit guide?

You first.

I've a client who thinks she's a fake.

I've said it's not illegal.

Technically it is.

Fraudulent Mediums Act 1951.

But as long as the medium hears voices that nobody else can hear,

sees what nobody else can see

and the spirits use her vocal chords to communicate,

we can't prove it.

Now are you going to tell me what your lady was doing there?

- Have some more cake. - I can't be bribed.

My detective sergeant was, as you say rumbled.

But you Mrs. Wainthropp, were not rumbled.

How did you explain your presence?

Said I'd read their advert in the Psychic Herald.

Said my husband had recently passed away and I wanted to make contact.

Robert? Has he?

No, he'll outlive us all if he's not prevented.

I went there in disguise.

Under a flag of convenience.

Mrs. Lola Hattersley, wealthy widow without dependants.

Totally without?

I haven't gone into details.

They come at the private consultation, so I'm told.

And will you be having one?

Will have to consult my client.

I'm not sure if she'll be prepared to pay.

I have a small fund under my control which might cover it.

Then what's the problem?

Let's go for a little drive.

His diary.

When my father retired,

he and my mother went live at Grange-over-Sands.

She died suddenly.

Eighteen months ago.

He...

...only recently.

This was his diary.

He took her death...

...very hard.

Started going to group seances at a private house.

Mrs. Rome?

She'd rented a place for the winter.

Group meetings first, private consultations after.

It's all in here.

What he writes

is what he believes, she told him.

My mother, told him through some spirit guide.

Which was?

Terrible things.

Lies.

We have to believe they were lies.

Before she married, my mother was a psychiatric nurse.

What she told him...

Said to have told him...

was terrible things...

done to patients.

Ill treatment.

You could call it sadism.

By your mother?

When he himself died, all his savings were gone.

For nearly a year, he'd been taking large sums out of the bank.

In cash.

So he has these private consultations.

His dead wife talks to him.

Telling him about all the dreadful things she's done and he believes her.

And then he pays up to keep it quiet.

Wait a minute.

The medium's in a trance.

She's not supposed to know what happens.

Mrs. Rome tape records the private consultations.

So that her clients can have a record of what their loved ones tell them.

And it'd only need one tape.

Blackmail.

And no way of proving it.

Special consultation?

£25?!

- And bus fares. - Why?

You want me to expose her.

Well, why can't you expose her at one of her evening dos.

You'd have witnesses.

She's a clever woman.

She doesn't give herself away in public.

Anyone hostile affects the vibrations, so they get thrown out.

The point is, she doesn't do anything.

The spirits do it all.

She just passes on what the spirits say

And the people at the seance have to tell her

whether it has any meaning them for them.

So if a mistake's made

wrong age, wrong colour hair, wrong sex,

any sort of error,

it's not her, do you see?

The spirits got it muddled owing to bad reception.

And what do you to expect to get from a private consultation

that you wouldn't get otherwise?

In private she might just take one step too far.

£25.

A place like this.

You've no idea the wastage.

One step too far.

How do we lay the bait?

We shall put together a life story of Mrs. Lola Hattersley

as soon as we get home.

And I shall learn it by heart.

Mrs. Hattersley.

Good afternoon.

Mrs. Hattersley, come in.

Thank you, Sara.

- Your coat? - Thank you.

You're a friend of Mrs. Todd, I believe.

Both having lost a loved one recently.

It brings you together.

A loved one.

That would be?

My husband. Mr. Hattersley.

Mr. Hattersley.

You don't use his first name.

He may do so if he decides to make himself known.

- That's up to him. - I see.

Thank you.

Now you'll excuse me,

but we have to get one thing straight right from the beginning.

I'm only a channel of communication.

I can't guarantee success.

If your husband doesn't wish to communicate

there's nothing I can do about it.

But he must want to, he must.

He's always looked after me.

He's left me all this money.

The house, the business.

He went so sudden.

I don't know what to do.

Take the crystal in both hands.

Hold it.

Feel the warmth.

Look deep into it.

Deep.

Yes.

Such secrets there.

Put it back please.

First I'm going to study your aura for awhile.

Close your eyes please.

What's an aura?

The astral part of you.

Everybody has one.

It's just light.

A mist of light.

Like you see on the street lamp on a rainy night.

Yours is purple.

That's the colour of grief.

I'd never have known.

Open.

Grace Todd said something about a tape recording.

I was about to ask.

It's little extra but many clients like to have a record.

I don't mind about the extra.

It's the least of my worries.

I see...

an old man...

rocking.

Mr. Hattersley wasn't old.

He was cut down in his prime.

Rocking in his chair.

There's a chamber pot by the side of it.

Rocking?

A chamber pot?

I didn't come here to play these silly games.

Please put me on to my husband as quick as you can.

Good gracious me.

I remember.

You knew the old man.

My granddad.

He had sciatica, he had to rock to get out of his chair.

And the chamber pot?

He used it as a spittoon.

He's your guardian in the spirit world.

He keeps an eye on you.

Don't know why I never liked him.

Why you following me?

Eh?

You heard.

I wasn't following you.

Don't lie, you're no good at it.

Well, if I was...

You were.

Um... I fancied you.

I suppose.

No. That's it.

I saw you.

Fancied you, followed you.

End of story.

It's as old as time.

Most stories are.

'F'.

- 'F'? - Florence.

Florrie.

Flora?

Aunt Florrie lived at Bamber Bridge.

And her husband worked on the railway in a supervisory capacity.

I never had much to say to them in this life

and I can't think the spirit world will make a difference.

Now,

may I talk to my husband please.

I told you my dear,

I can't command the spirits.

The ones who come are the ones with something to communicate.

'F'.

I don't think it's your auntie.

Nothing's clear.

I can feel impatience hindering the flow.

'F'.

I have the feeling...

A child.

Is there some buried unhappiness in your mind

connected with a child?

Mr. Hattersley and I never had children.

We married late.

He did have a lady friend for some years before our marriage.

But we don't speak of her.

What is the name of this lady friend my dear?

Fiona.

Fiona Freeman.

Why aren't you at work?

I'm unemployed at the moment.

That's why I have to keep wandering about, killing time.

If you're unemployed, how come you're buying the coke?

I had a piece of good fortune

when some careless person left his car unlocked.

You're beginning to grow on me.

I've been wondering what you're like in bed.

I've had no complaints.

Maybe you've had no opportunities either.

I don't know how to reply to that.

Don't worry I was only trying to knock you off balance.

In my job, you learn a lot about people from their reactions.

You're not a Jack the Lad looking for a quick pick up.

So why were you really following me?

I followed you because...

...anyone can dream.

And has your husband's lady friend, Fiona

passed over, do you happen to know?

They lost touch.

She went south to Dunstable for her health.

He never heard from her again.

- For her health? - Yes.

To have an abortion.

Or to have the baby.

Huh!.

Whoever it is,

she's extremely anxious to communicate.

If it's Miss Freeman

please inform her that I do not wish to receive

any communications she may be trying to make.

I want to speak to my husband and only to my husband.

There's £250,000 tied up

at an extremely low rate of interest

and I need better advice than I'm getting from the bank.

Just the same,

my dear husband never appeared.

Of course, I didn't appear.

I'm not dead yet, how could I appear?

You've not have a lady friend called Fiona either.

As far as I know.

You and I were married far too young.

I never realize my potentialities.

I might have fancy that Fiona if fate had thrown one my way.

It was funny about your granddad though.

It was.

Rocking in his chair,

the chamber pot to spit in for his bronchitis.

My granddad, not Mrs. Lola Hattersley's.

That medium couldn't have known.

She could be genuine.

Well a lot of old men had sciatica in your granddad's day.

And bronchitis.

Keeping an eye on me from the astral plane, she said.

Why not if he enjoys it.

The important thing is,

genuine or not, she's taken the bait.

The bleating of the goat,

excites the tiger.

Some goat.

A wealthy goat without children.

And now there's her husband's ex lady friend deceased

trying to get through to me with a message about a little girl.

I find that interesting.

Did she give you the tape recording?

Next session.

She wants to make a copy for her own record.

That's how she blackmailed the vicar's dad.

Kept a copy.

Well, it isn't blackmail this time.

Maybe not.

But I expect that little girl'll turn out to be in need.

She's not thought it through, Mr. Wainthropp.

That's the trouble.

Hetty never does think things through.

Little grey cells? Rubbish.

It's instinct, with her, always has been.

I've not thought it through, that's the trouble.

Unlike you.

When I began, all I was going to do was go to a couple of seances.

Get her to give me a message from my dead husband and then expose her.

Because Robert isn't dead and anyway I'm not Mrs. Hattersley.

She'd have wriggled out of that somehow though.

But it might have been enough for Grace Todd

and I'd have done my duty by the client.

And now?

Well, there's this blackmail business.

I've laid a bait and she's taken it.

Geoff and me, we've made up a life story for Mrs. Hattersley.

But she's gonna need more than a made-up story.

Where does she live and what's her phone number?

I can find you a house and an answer phone.

Good.

And er...

Mrs. Hattersley will need a cheque book, I suppose.

I wanted to have a talk with you.

Man to man, you know.

It's not the facts of life, is it?

I had to do them with our Derek.

I got rather muddled up to tell you the truth.

It's not the facts of life.

At least, not exactly.

It's more...

The way we live, you me and Mrs. Wainthropp.

There's not the opportunity to...

If I was to meet someone.

A girl, say.

You're... you're right. It-it-it's...

It's quiet here for you, living with us.

I'm not complaining.

Well when I say quiet, I don't mean the detective agency aspect,

which is arsonist, the Mafia sort of thing.

They're not always welcome but they do make you change.

No, no, what-what-what I mean is that

- you're a teenager. - I am.

- You've got urges. - I have.

- It's a problem. - It is.

Hetty's doesn't always understand men's feelings.

She gets proprietorial, you could say.

It's a family, Mr. Wainthropp. I like that.

I haven't had a proper family for...

...a long time.

I'm grateful.

But as you say, the work, it stretches me.

It's a challenge.

Only...

Only you ought to get out on your own from time to time.

Every lad should.

I'll have a word with her.

You don't have a job?

I work for my mother.

What about your dad?

The women manage things in my family.

Is it a good trade, being a medium?

It's not a trade, it's a calling.

You have to have the gift.

As for money, we don't charge much.

A lot of the clients are old age pensioners.

Let's sit down for a bit.

Have you got the... gift?

Yeah, I think so.

You can put your arm around me if you like.

Try to enjoy it.

Don't you have a regular boyfriend?

If I like someone I might go with them for a bit.

But nobody claims me.

Besides, I don't know anyone in Burnley.

Only here for the winter.

What about the summer?

Seaside.

I thought we might go to a club later.

Have you found another careless person who left his car unlocked?

I wouldn't ask if I couldn't afford to take you.

Shall I kiss you?

You might enjoy it.

Not bad. You'll get better if you practice.

Let's practice.

Come on.

Would you do something for me Geoff?

Or would you turn to run?

Ask.

There's one of our clients,

in Darwen.

Mrs. Lola Hattersley.

I'll give you the address.

What about her?

She doesn't feel right.

Usually when a folk come to us, it's loneliness.

With her, there's something wrong.

It's all to do with money.

What do you want me to do?

Find out all you can.

Ask the neighbours.

She could get hurt if she going into it for the wrong motives.

You what?

Well, in the course of making general inquiries in the area...

No flannel, I don't want flannel Geoffrey.

I came to make the acquaintance of the subject's daughter.

And never told us?

You spoke?

Yem.

He told me he'd made the acquaintance of a young lady.

He didn't say who.

I was going to talk to you about it.

How dare you keep secrets from me.

You've 'ad one go of solving cases

on your own and it came to no good.

And now you want to take over the agency.

It's got nothing to do with the agency.

My feelings for the young lady are private, Mrs. Wainthropp.

It has nothing to do with the agency.

Until now, maybe they have now.

You've got to look at things from their point of view.

Got to?

Give the lad a chance, Hetty. Let him explain.

Explain.

There's your granddad. And your Aunt Florrie.

Mrs. Rome got both those right.

She didn't know who you were because you were pretending to be someone else

but she got those right.

And my dear husband, who's passed over.

And his lady friend Fiona, also passed,

who wants to tell me about a little child.

She didn't say that.

Am I losing my mind?

Are you telling me what this medium did or didn't say

when you weren't even there.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Wainthropp, but from what you already told...

God! Give me patience.

I do so hope he will.

All she actually said was there was a message about a little child.

Something to do with the letter 'F'.

She never succeed in communicating with Mr. Hattersley.

And all that stuff about Fiona was what you told her yourself.

I suppose.

Strictly speaking, that could be true.

Then why does this girl want Geoffrey to investigate me, Mrs. Hattersley.

She thinks there's something strange about you.

She thinks you're obsessed by money and you may be at risk.

Me, at risk?

I'll tell you who's at risk, young man.

I'll tell you who's obsessed.

And it's not with money. It's with sex.

I'm not speaking to anybody.

Might be the DCI.

Wainthropp Detective Agency.

Who?

Derek!

It's the baby. Something's happened.

Why it must be about 4 in the morning where you are.

Is, is there anything wrong?

Yup, yes, she's here now.

They've had a little girl.

A week early, but she's all right.

Hello?

- Good news. - Yes!

- A little girl. - Yes.

They... they had a miscarriage before, so they...

they thought they might lose it.

But she's alright.

Felicity! Yes, it's a lovely name.

Most appropriate.

Felicity.

Yes!

'F'.

A child!

I'm giving up the case.

What? Give us a minute.

Sure sir.

She's not a fake.

There's too much she's got right.

First, me granddad.

Then me Aunt Florrie at Bamber Bridge.

Take your time.

It's this 'F', the child.

- She's just been born. - In Dunstable?

In Sydney, Australia.

She's my own granddaughter, Felicity.

Mrs. Rome couldn't have known that.

So maybe what the spirit told that vicar's Dad was true

and maybe his wife really did all that.

That's not the point.

Whether Mrs. Rome is a fake or not,

whether the vicar's mother ill treated her geriatric patients or not,

blackmail is still blackmail and it's a blackmailer you're after.

So tell me please,

what is Geoffrey going to say to the girl?

Mrs. Lola Hattersley lives alone in a detached house

in the select area of Darwen.

She and her husband were a devoted couple.

Rich, well respected,

old fashioned views, pro-hanging, anti-abortion.

And she was utterly dependent on him.

She has no close relatives,

nobody comes to see her.

The telephone's ex-directory,

but he got the number from the cleaning lady.

And I tell you now,

it won't come to anything.

We're wasting our time.

Mrs. Lola Hattersley is not available

to take your call at the present time.

Please leave a message after the tone.

Hello, this is Wendy Freeman, from Dunstable.

I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Hattersley,

but it is urgent.

She say she's in the area staying with friends.

She'll phone again at 4 p.m.

Then Mrs. Lola Hattersley had better be there to take the call.

I'll pack a bag and move in pronto.

Good bye.

Phone for a taxi will you love.

We won't get Mrs. Hattersley and her suitcase on the back of the scooter.

Do you want me to come with you?

She has no children.

Shall I come?

And her husband's dead.

Now I don't suppose there's any food in that house.

I'd better take a carrier bag of bits and pieces.

Danny's arrived.

Three minutes to go.

Doesn't time fly when you're having fun.

Mrs. Lola Hattersley speaking.

Wainthropp Detective Agency.

Right.

Right.

Understood.

I know you wouldn't want me to have an abortion.

Would you like some coffee?

I have the Georgian silver coffee service in the kitchen

and a plate of petit four.

It would be your husband's grandchild, you see.

The milk, of course, is boiled.

Are we getting through to you, Mrs. Hattersley?

Yes.

This young lady says she's my husband's

illegitimate daughter by the late Fiona Freeman.

And that she's now about to have an illegitimate child of her own,

which she does not wish to abort.

My mother refused to have an abortion and so do I.

Well, there are plenty of single mothers about today.

She never asked your husband for a penny.

She struggled on her own to bring me up.

I only discovered who I was after she died.

And am I right in thinking, my dear,

that unlike your mother,

you are about to ask for money?

She shouldn't have to ask.

You should offer.

I want to start a new life in Canada.

With the baby.

How much would it cost?

With the air fare and getting on my feet,

3,000.

I'll book the ticket, put down a deposit.

You wouldn't see me again.

Dear.

This is really most disturbing.

£3,000.

My husband never mentioned.

He-he never even spoke of Miss Freeman after our marriage.

I mean there's no proof.

There is proof, Mrs. Hattersley.

How else could I know so much about you?

Well, I have no responsibility.

£3,000?

If you're pregnant, you must know who the father is.

You don't have to go to Canada, he can be made to pay.

He's a married man.

Like your husband was.

Mr. Hattersley and I

were not yet married when your mother went south to Dunstable for her health.

Makes it worse.

I don't think you understand Mrs. Hattersley.

My cousin here wants to bear your late husband's grandchild

and make a new life for them both.

You should be happy to help her.

If you won't, she'll have to get what she can where she can.

Meaning?

Sell her story to the Sunday papers.

History repeats itself kind of thing.

That's blackmail.

No,

blackmailers keep coming back.

This is a one-off.

She'll be in Canada. You'll never hear from her again.

£3,000!

I haven't that much money in the house.

Write a cheque.

Pay cash to bearer, phone the bank and tell them to honour it.

I'll get the money and come back.

Very well.

I shall need a receipt.

She's making out the cheque.

Money has to pass and then the police can take them in.

I don't think you'll be serving coffee.

Then if you don't mind, Mr. Wainthropp, something I have to do.

You don't need me here.

When you've signed

and here's the cheque.

Before your cousin goes to collect the money,

there's someone I'd like you both to meet.

This is my husband,

come back from the astral plane.

Robert, this is your daughter by the late Fiona Freeman.

Who never actually existed except in my imagination.

Er... Mrs. Rome?

Gone.

- Where? - Who knows?

Done a bunk?

I've come for the rent.

They pay a month in advance.

They said they'd stay until summer,

but they've terminated early.

Where does a Romany woman go in the summer?

Seaside!

Fortune telling.

Everybody knows that.

Thanks. You've been very helpful.

Wait!

You're going looking for her?

All the way up the coast on that thing?

If I have to.

In Undercliff,

The Pleasure Beach.

Just tell me.

How I'm supposed to have conned money

out of a woman who doesn't even exist.

If there never was, a Mrs. Lola Hattersley,

that cheque's a fraud for a start.

Of course we can't make it stick.

That's not the point.

When do we ever made blackmail cases stick?

No the point is to warn them off.

And by a little judicious harassment

get them out of the Northwest.

He never said where he was going?

Thank you so much.

So unlike him.

Maybe he's phoned.

We should have one of those answering machines.

We have, it's me. It's ringing now!

It stopped.

How could you let him go off like that.

Have you come to have your fortune told?

I've come to warn you.

No need. They had to let her go.

- Wendy? - My sister Catherine.

Did you really believe a Romany would be called Wendy?

How did you find me?

Well, I worked it out.

I don't see why you have to make extra by blackmailing people.

Nobody blackmailed Mrs. Hattersley.

There's no such person, you lied.

And the old man at Grange-over-Sands?

Been doing your homework?

There is no blackmail there either.

He was a stupid old man who'd pay to keep it quiet what his wife had done

when we'd have kept quiet anyway.

Yeah.

So...

it didn't mean anything then?

You and me.

Kissing a girl, what's that mean?

Something.

A lot.

You'd better go.

I'm sorry.

You've wasted your time.

Anyone can dream.

The trouble with Amy, she knows nowt about feelings.

Exposing Mrs. Rome wouldn't have done no good.

Well, I'd known for sometime she were a fake.

I'd have told you. But thought you believed in her.

She got some things right.

That wasn't the point.

She was taking advantage.

I tumbled to her very quick.

And I'll tell you for why,

that spirit guide of hers.

A shaman of the Atahashi tribe

Chief Wet Blanket or some such.

My Harry would never discuss his personal problems with a Red Indian.

And he kept saying he was so happy in a better place

where everything was perfect.

Well, that's not Harry.

He'd find a bit of fault in workmanship

in the Gates of Paradise.

Then why did you keep going back?

Mrs. Rome's front room was the only place

I could talk about Harry non-stop.

It were worth £25 an hour.

Amy wants you to go and live with them.

That's the other reason the money was worth it.

I tell her, "Harry says, I must be independent."

You know, I put the bolster down the middle of the bed

and sleep beside it with one arm over.

Pretending it's him.

Well, Amy wouldn't allow that.

He's back.

I'll go.

I went to warn her.

She knew already as a matter of fact.

You can have my resignation if you want.

I'll go upstairs and pack.

Your supper will be ready in 20 minutes.

You better have a bit of a wash.

And there'll be work to do in the morning.

Trying to get the rest of our fee out of Amy Todd.

You're right Mrs. Wainthropp.

You're right.