Original subtitles

Three-star, you see.

This is the other side.

That's Pyari on the sitar.

The woman on the couch in the spangled sari is a maharani

but suing for divorce.

The elderly Englishman beside her is her legal adviser,

but I don't imagine it goes further than that.

That white boy whose head he's fondling

looks like an AB from a ship of His Majesty's Service.

It's one way for boys like that

to see some of the bright lights when they're ashore.

Oh, well done! Well done!

Jimmy, the Movement Control telephoned.

The plane for Colombo leaves

half an hour earlier than they said.

Thanks, Mira, I brought somebody

to hear Pyari -- her name's Sarah.

-Hello. - Pyari's in good form, hmm?

He said they've asked for him at Government House.

- Did you hear? - Will he go?

He said, only if he could take a bomb in his sitar.

But why ruin a good instrument? So that's that.

Mira's a stunner, isn't she?

Yes, beautiful.

She keeps her husband in drink, pays all his gambling debts

and his mistress's clothes and jewelry accounts.

Does she? Why?

Why not? She's so rich, she can't count it.

Anyway, she likes his mistress.

They were lovers.

Mira has friends in Cairo.

That's how I got to know this place.

It's my unofficial address in Cal.

Has Mira got friends in Ceylon too?

We both have.

Then you'll be nice and comfortable.

It is one of my aims in life.

Isn't it yours?

Yes, I suppose it must be.

Well, that's refreshingly honest.

That "honor of the regiment" exterior

is paper thin, isn't it?

Didn't the injection take? It's usually fatal.

Growing up with all the po-faced kids

in a ghastly nonstop performance of "Where the Rainbow Ends."

And you escaped?

I suppose that's how it looks.

It's only half the truth.

What's the other half?

Last Christmas, I was in Pindi

staying with a friend of a friend

who's been out here for years.

We were tremendously polite.

I had nothing at all to say to him

or his wife or two of the po-faced kids.

They'd been trapped in some perpetual Edwardian sunlight.

I felt I ought to say, "Come back, all is forgiven."

Come back where? Forgiven by whom, and for what?

For what? Don't you know?

This place is a gold mine,

but it's stiff with people dying of hunger in the streets.

That's the legacy from all those blue-eyed Bible-thumpers

who came out here because they

couldn't stand the commercial pace back home.

I'll give it another two years

after the socialists have won the next election.

I mean, who wants India as one of our postwar problems?

Are you a socialist?

Good Lord, no.

I'm a low Tory, if you could call me anything.

Why are you so sure

the socialists would win an election?

Won't Mr. Churchill's reputation count for anything?

Why do women always call him

"Mr. Churchill"?

It makes him sound like a vicar.

Of course his name will count --

for everything patriotic and time-expired.

I don't suppose you've talked much

to common British soldiers, have you?

The fellows you refer to as BORs.

I'll tell you what your BOR in Deolali

or your door-to-door salesman

with Wingate in Burma thinks, you know.

He thinks, "All right, mate. You're the officer.

Have it cushy while you can and duck when the -- flies,

but when this stinking mess is sorted out,

be a good lad and bugger off out of my government

and out of my bloody life, but forever."

See, he thinks his own lot ought to run things

because there are more of them --

more than there are of la-di-da poofs swigging brandy

and getting hot for women that they don't know how to poke.

Go on.

You're quite a girl, Sarah Layton.

No, I'm not "quite a girl."

I'm this one.

And you're still a virgin, of course.

Yes, I'm still a virgin, of course.

Are you annoyed with me for asking

or because it's something you don't want to admit

or a bit of both, hmm?

In any case, clearly I must apologize.

Mira is doing us proud.

It's Lakshmi Kripalani.

She sings, in case you didn't know.

They're going to play again.

I'd better show you where you can freshen up.

That's a good idea. They might go on for an hour.

- I'll keep this warm for you. - Yes. Thank you.

There's probably everything you want.

If not, just ring. One of the girls will come.

Thank you.

You're going the wrong way.

I'm over here.

You do seem startled.

Weren't you expecting me?

- No. - That's a pity.

I thought you understood that we had an appointment.

I mean, Mira did.

So you mustn't worry about our absence causing comment.

We had no appointment.

Please turn on the light and open the door.

Are you sure you want the door opened?

Yes.

The key is here.

Oh, dear. Have I miscalculated?

I don't often,

but it is an occupational hazard of the male.

You get a few more slaps than you deserve,

but you also get screws,

so you can't complain.

Are you quite sure you don't want to lose that cherry?

Quite sure.

I'll give you one minute to unlock the door.

You're not really plain.

Quite pretty, really.

In the buff, I expect your breasts

look much more prominent.

What I like best about you is

that you never say anything too obvious.

That and your colonel's-daughter guts.

I brought up our drinks as well.

Do you want yours?

Not too much.

Aunt Fenny told me that your mother drinks.

It's embarrassing, isn't it?

My father drinks a lot.

What she should do is screw.

I mean, that would be better for the Colonel, really,

not to come home to an alcoholic who gets her screws

out of bottles.

- Like your father? - Yes. Just like him.

And what did your mother do for screws?

Oh, Mother was never hard up.

She went in for handsome chauffeurs.

Go on, you're doing very well.

I hope you're not cross with Aunt Fenny, by the way.

She was only trying to bring out my protective instincts.

It's my fault she said too much.

I realize that.

Why are you shivering?

Because I find it difficult to control myself.

And you feel you must.

What do you find difficult to control?

Your temper?

Yes.

Now I'd be glad if you'd open the door.

If the taxi's still here, I can go home

without putting you to any trouble.

If not, I'm afraid you'll have to organize one.

And you don't want to lose that cherry?

Very well.

I like your Aunt Fenny.

She's shallow.

And I bet she was a scorcher as a girl.

Potentially, you are worth 20 of her.

But your brains and your toughness

aren't worth a bag of peanuts if you lack joy.

That's what Aunt Fenny's got and you haven't.

The place is stuffed with people

who've thought so long

that they've forgotten to be happy

or people who've spent so long trying to be happy

that they haven't had time to think.

Aunt Fenny doesn't think at all.

She wished you joy, that's all.

And you don't want it.

She's my Aunt Fenny, not yours.

My key for your Aunt Fenny.

Catch.

For Pete's sake, Sarah Layton,

you don't know anything about joy at all, do you?

No.

No, I don't.

You're crying. Why?

Because you really want me to make love to you?

I couldn't promise love.

You couldn't either, could you?

And that's not right, where you belong.

Except that you don't.

Do you pretend because your father's away?

Pretend that you belong for his sake?

No.

I do belong.

That's what I know.

That's the trouble.

Please take your hand away.

You really ought to bathe your eyes, you know.

My Aunt Fenny would think the worst if she saw you now.

Well, then...

shall we go, Sarah Layton?

Is it so sad?

Sarah, be joyful.

"She is to visit Captain Merrick

in hospital.

I wonder,

will she ask him this time

if he knew Edwina?"

Oh, can't you sleep either?

I was writing.

Letters.

Can I get you anything?

No. Thank you, Barbie.

There's nothing I want.

I'm not sleepy, though.

It's rather close, isn't it?

Just a bit.

Perhaps you were thinking about the news.

That's why Icouldn't sleep.

About the invasion.

No, I was thinking it's a long time since I visited the grave.

My husband's grave in Ranpur.

Did I ever take you, Barbie?

Don't go.

Stay and talk to me.

Talk? What about?

Anything.

About when you were young.

I always enjoy that.

Do you? Do you?

Oh.

Well, I was always a bit afraid of going upstairs to bed,

so I used to hum a song my mother disapproved of.

♪ I've seen a deal of gaiety throughout my noisy life ♪

- Throughout what? - "Throughout my noisy life."

Oh. One of your father's comic songs.

Yes. He loved the music hall.

He often promised to take me to it,

but of course he never did.

He was afraid of what my mother would say

if she found out.

And he was always a bit short of what he called "the ready."

One Christmas, he lost the presents for my stocking

on the way home.

I adored Christmas mornings.

Waking in the dark,

feeling the weight of the stocking on my toes.

It was magic.

I remember that.

Even the quarrels in our house had a sort of magic.

My life was never dull.

Is it dull now?

Now?!

Least of all!

What do you think will happen when the war is over?

Happen?

Well, this house is much bigger

than the Grace and Favor Bungalow.

If your stepson,

if Colonel Layton is coming home,

people are bound to think this was

his father's house, and that the bungalow's

too small for Mildred, Sarah, Susan, and the baby.

I know Mildred hates me because she thinks --

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

You must go to sleep.

Yes, I will now.

Thank you, Barbie.

I'll see to the other light.

- Mabel? - Yes?

Who is Gillian Waller?

Gillian Waller?

Sometimes you say it in your sleep.

Jallianwallah.

Jallianwallah Bagh.

It's not a person.

It's a place.

The Amritsar Massacre in 1919,

where General Dyer killed all those unarmed Indians.

Was your husband there?

He died in 1917.

- But you remember it? - Oh, yes.

£26,000 they raised for General Dyer

when they retired him.

I sent £100...

to the fund the Indians were raising

for the families of their dead.

There were more than 260 victims, you see.

And £26,000 for him.

So I thought £100 was the price of one dead brown.

It's not you, Barbie, and not this house.

Jallianwallah Bagh.

I gave it to the Indians.

That's what she can't forgive.

A daughter of the regiment.

I'm ready for the light now.

Good night, Mabel.

India's Minister of Information

says, "We have trapped the enemy in the Imphal area.

He must either withdraw or be annihilated."

These pictures from the Assam-Burma border

take us into the hills of Manipur,

where men of the 5th and 7th Indian Divisions are in action.

Japanese-held villages are consumed by flames

as his attempt to seize our offensive base at Imphal

is thwarted.

This is any man's country.

Large opposing forces can wander for scores of miles

without ever meeting each other.

But when they meet, it becomes a massacre.

Japanese corpses are strewn thickly where they fell

after being caught in a merciless crossfire

from infantry and tanks.

They have no further interest in Tojo's gamble.

For them, it has meant death in a strange jungle

3,000 miles from Tokyo.

Memsahib, rickshaw is here.

- Thank you, Aziz. - Memsahib come home?

7:00, Aziz. Or 7:30.

Certainly for dinner.

Susan?

I've told Aziz you'll be here to lunch.

Is your mother coming to fetch you?

Mm. From the club.

It's so lovely here.

Bye, Barbie.

Aren't you awfully hot?

You should be in the shade!

I like the sun.

Where are you off to now?

- Mr. Maybrick's. - Where?

The organist. I told you.

He wants me to stick his volume of Bach together.

It's all in pieces.

Bach!

I'll be back to dinner.

Susan's here.

When is Sarah coming back?

Well, she only went the day before yesterday.

She booked a sleeper for tomorrow night.

Goodbye, Barbie.

Are you awake, Auntie Mabel?

Auntie!

I tell you, it's gone!

Double page.

The F minor fugue.

Here's where it should be.

Are you sure you've looked everywhere?

What a pickle you're in!

Mr. Maybrick, what are you standing on?

What?

Eureka!

"Perseverance," my father used to say.

Perseverance, Mr. Maybrick, wins the day.

Angelic, Barbie.

Ham-fisted, but angelic.

What would you say to mutton, curry, and rice?

- I should say no. - It was planned!

Mutton, curry, and rice for two.

- Planned by whom? - Lovingly by me.

You've been overdoing the sherry.

You've not done so badly yourself.

Two glasses are all I've had!

Refilled between fugues.

If you stayed to supper,

you could start the binding afterwards.

I shall do no such thing.

You're becoming a hard woman, Barbie.

I'm sorry.

Oh, Arthur!

Mr. Maybrick and I were just...

Forgive me, Barbie.

Mrs. Layton telephoned from Rose Cottage.

"Stay with me and talk."

I knew!

A stroke. Very sudden.

I think we must believe she felt no pain.

"Throughout my noisy life."

No pain at all.

Rose Cottage.

Kevin Coley speaking.

- Is Miss Batchelor with you? - Well, no. She's not here.

She's not there.

I'm telephoning from Mr. Maybrick's.

I told Miss Batchelor of Mabel Layton's death

and suggested she shall spend the night at my house.

Well, she was distressed, of course,

and anxious to go home at once.

Mr. Maybrick and I were trying to persuade her.

She retired for a few moments,

and now we find she's disappeared.

Gone? Well, frankly, Peplow, not convenient at all.

Oh, mystery resolved.

Miss Batchelor's here.

Yes, just arriving.

Understood. Thanks for telephoning.

Arthur Peplow on the phone. Seemed a bit concerned.

I told Arthur I must get home at once.

There's so much to do.

Excuse me, Captain Coley.

- Miss Batchelor -- - I won't get in anyone's way.

No! No!

Is that Susan?

Dr. Travers is with her now.

I think she may have started.

Much better...

If there's anything I can do --

Thank you, but I think we can cope.

Have you any idea where that bloody man can have got to?

- Which man, Mildred? - Aziz. Aziz!

- Aziz was here. - Well, he's not here now.

and if and when he shows his face again,

Kevin here has promised personally

to boot him in the rear.

But... but if he was worried...

I don't think you understand Indians like Aziz at all.

I understand only too well.

I've asked Colonel Beames

to have a word with the police.

The police?!

Whatever are you saying?

Not that there appears to be anything noticeably missing.

Dr. Travis says Susan has started

and wants you to help take her down to the car.

No!

No, I don't want to go!

She's terribly upset.

No one really suspects Aziz.

It's just a precaution until Beames is satisfied

about the cause of death.

The cause?

He wanted a pathologist's report.

Excuse me.

Where is Mabel?

No! I don't want to go!

No! No!

Oh, Mabel!

Mabel!

It can't have started.

The baby isn't finished yet.

Come on, Sue. Keep going.

We'll have you right as rain. You'll see.

Miss Batchelor?

Miss Batchelor, Maybrick's here.

They've come to take you to the Peplows' for the night.

Thank you, Captain Coley.

Where have they taken Mabel?

Would you mind telling me?

General Hospital.

Yes. Colonel Beames thought it would be best.

But it's all right.

Mildred's there with Susan.

I'm sure what you need is a good night's sleep.

Have you transport?

There's a rickshaw at the bottom.

I left my bag somewhere.

Oh, I've some receipts for bills I paid.

I'll put them in Mabel's desk.

Perhaps you'll see that Mildred gets these.

Of course.

I'll pack some things.

We shall go straight to the hospital.

I must pay my last respects to Mabel, of course!

I don't think that Captain Coley thinks that you --

Captain Coley doesn't think at all!

That's God's blessing on him.

And I must speak to Colonel Beames at once.

Sorry to have kept you waiting.

But I do have my pathologist's report now.

It confirms my assumption of cerebral hemorrhage.

Do sit down.

Um... had she complained lately of feeling unwell?

No.

Not complained.

I've told Mildred... uh, Mrs. Layton, Junior.

She's here with young Susan, as I expect you know.

I'm afraid, from what Travers says,

she's in for rather an arduous time.

Fortunately, Captain Coley

and Arthur Peplow have undertaken to make

the arrangements for the funeral.

There's a great deal to do.

Do you know anything

of the arrangements for transportation?

I wish to accompany, of course.

Transportation?

The burial will be at St. Luke's in Ranpur.

She wished to be buried with her husband there.

Hasn't Mildred mentioned this to you?

No.

I... must see her and remind her.

Are you sure those were the elder Mrs. Layton's wishes?

Quite sure.

I see.

I'll mention it to her then.

Well, I'm afraid I must leave now for Flagstaff House.

But you can depend upon my letting her know.

Are you accompanied?

Mr. Maybrick is with me.

Good. You must try to get a good night's rest.

This must have been a greater shock for you than any of us.

I wish to see her, of course.

Can I do that now?

I'm afraid not.

But if you ring in the morning

and ask to speak to Dr. Iyanagar,

I'm sure it could be arranged.

Dr. Iyanagar?

Or his assistant. Extension 22.

Thank you, Colonel Beames.

Mr. Maybrick --

I brought the suitcase in.

Safer than with the rickshaw wallah.

Why don't you go back to the rectory bungalow?

Tell Clarissa and Arthur I'll be there in half an hour.

Half an hour?! I'll wait.

Well, it may be longer.

I shall ask.

Colonel Beames will have rung.

I'm to see Dr. Iyanagar.

Will you please tell him I'm here?

Oh, but Dr. Iyanagar has left.

Then his assistant.

Extension 22.

Colonel Beames should have rung

before he left for Flagstaff House.

You see, I don't remember.

It's Miss Batchelor, isn't it?

Get Dr. Lal quickly, please.

Dr. Lal will come to the telephone.

Tell him I'm here in connection

with the death of Mrs. Mabel Layton.

As arranged by Colonel Beames,

I'm to see him in his office.

Barbie, what on earth are you doing, for heaven's sakes?

Something I have to do.

Dr. Lal?

Yes, I am Dr. Lal.

I was expecting to see Dr. Iyanagar,

but I understand he's left.

Yes, I'm sorry. Half an hour since.

Some obvious lack of liaison upstairs.

May we proceed at once, please?

I'm sorry, proceed with what?

Identification.

I have to see and identify the body

of the late Mrs. Mabel Layton.

I see.

But no one mentioned to me this necessity.

Are you a relative?

Yes.

One moment.

Please sit.

Aah!

Oh! Oh!

You should have waited.

It is most irregular.

I mean, nothing is ready yet.

You come in without permission.

It is not allowed.

And now you're in a state.

Please, please, you must sit somewhere and be patient.

Why should I be blamed for this?

No one will blame you, Dr. Lal.

I shall say nothing.

It would be wise for you to say nothing too.

I have seen all I need.

Forget I was ever here.

But Dr. Iyanagar --

He knows nothing.

She is in torment!

Yes?

Can I help?

Sister Paige?

Sister Paige is busy for a moment.

I'm Sister Matthews. Are you lost?

I've come to see Mrs. Layton.

They told me downstairs to come up to number eight.

Oh, I understood it was a Captain Coley

with a message from Mr. Peplow.

Oh, they got it slightly muddled.

There is an urgent message for Mrs. Layton

which concerns Captain Coley and Mr. Peplow.

Yes, I see, and there, I've just told Mrs. Layton

it was Captain Coley.

Well, never mind.

This way.

How is her daughter, Susan?

Mrs. Bingham's just as well as can be expected.

It's not going to be an easy delivery, I'm afraid.

She's so tense.

And Mrs. Layton's awfully anxious too,

trying to get through to her other daughter in Calcutta.

But I expect they're all out

celebrating the Normandy invasion,

what I'd be doing if we weren't short-staffed.

Your visitor, Mrs. Layton.

Come in, Kevin.

Pour yourself a drink. It's on the dressing table.

And freshen mine, there's an angel.

What's happening?

I've got through to Calcutta, thank God.

Sarah starts back tomorrow.

Kevin?

You bloody bitch!

Mildred, please don't.

It's not my fault that they got the message wrong.

Do I look like Captain Coley?

You can call me anything you like

for what you think I've done,

but you must listen to me first, or she'll never rest.

Never, never!

I've seen her, so I know.

She's in that terrible place, in anguish,

because she thinks you've forgotten

your promise or won't abide by it.

She'll haunt me.

She'll haunt you. All of us.

I've no idea what you mean.

What promise?

To bury Mabel at St Luke's in Ranpur.

What on earth are you talking about?

It's what she wished.

She told me. She must have told you.

St Luke's in Ranpur?

I know absolutely nothing about it.

It's quite out of the question.

If you don't want the humiliation

of being asked to leave

by a member of the staff, you'd better go.

Why is it out of the question?

There's a telephone on that table there.

All you have to do is to ring Arthur Peplow and tell him.

Tell him this simple thing --

that she wished to be buried with her husband.

Arthur and I will do everything else that's necessary,

but that must come from you.

What you will do is leave this hospital at once

and stop interfering.

I find your suggestion utterly obscene.

It's June.

Perhaps you've noticed it's warm, even in Pankot.

I have no intention of having

my husband's stepmother transported

like a piece of refrigerated meat.

If there were some indication in her will,

I should have to override it.

I know nothing about her will.

But I do know about her will.

I've had a copy of it ever since my husband went abroad.

This gruesome little convoy you seem to think she wanted

is out of character.

After five years of living with her,

I'm surprised you didn't know her better.

On the other hand, I'm not.

You were born with the soul of a parlor maid,

and a parlor maid is what you've remained.

India's been very bad for you,

and Rose Cottage a disaster.

I'd be glad if you'd be out of there by the end of the month.

As soon as possible, in fact, if you've paid.

- Mildred! - How dare you call me Mildred!

To you, I'm Mrs. Layton.

That's ridiculous! It's spiteful!

Mildred is your given name, your Christian name.

Christ!

No, please!

Let go!

I'm sorry. Sorry!

I am what you say.

But I loved her so much.

And I think God gave me this last chance

to serve Him through her.

Please, Mildred!

She asked for so little, but she did ask for this.

Why should I make up a story?

I'll do anything, everything you say,

but please don't bury her in the wrong grave.

Not that! Not that!

Not that!

Oh!

Now...

I've told you.

I shall need a little time to collect my things.

Good night, Mildred.

They've all gone now.

These are for her?

Oh, my dear. That was your mother.

It's bad news.

Aunt Mabel. I'm afraid she's dead.

Miss Layton?

I'm sorry, Miss Layton, but we're nearly there.

We're coming into Ranpur.

I'm sorry to disturb you.

Oh, no. Thanks, Mrs. Roper.

Now, don't rush.

We just thought you'd want plenty of time,

because we only stay in Ranpur for 10 minutes.

Yes. I'll get down.

Can you manage, dear?

You've had a good long sleep.

We nodded off too.

You've been very kind.

I'm afraid I was a most awful nuisance to you.

Oh, my dear. Not at all.

Your uncle in Calcutta seemed so concerned.

Letting me share your coupé.

And letting down the bunk as well.

Now, just leave that.

Directly we've had dinner, Mrs. Perryman and I

are going to tuck down.

Is there anything we can do?

You'll want some food at the station.

No. Really.

But your train for Pankot

doesn't leave till after midnight.

Yes, I know.

I think I'll just go and wash my face.

Yes. Freshen up.

Perhaps she wants

to be on her own for a bit,

in the circumstances.

I do hope there's something really pukka lined up

for us in Ranpur.

Personally, I always find trains famishing.

Tea in the dining car back home was best.

Those little pots of jam. Do you remember?

And teacakes!

When we first came out,

Roger's mother used to send us Tiptree's.

They're from Fortnum's.

It's the sort of thing that really counts.

Though in Burma, it was marvelous

what we could get through Ramcham's in Rangoon.

I mean, Jim's Special Marmalade.

I say! Keep a lookout, Dorothy!

I think we're here!

Memsahib! Memsahib!

I've got your coolie for you.

After 30 years of India,

I can always spot the one you can trust.

Well, there's only my case.

Thank you.

I can see some restaurant- bearers down the platform.

I hope one's got our trays. Bearer!

Bearer!

Goodbye, Mrs. Roper.

Thanks for everything.

- Goodbye, dear. - Mrs. Perryman.

Shouldn't we find an escort for you?

There must be at least one officer on the platform

we could whistle up.

Really, I shall be quite all right.

But surely you don't usually travel alone?

Well, there's always a first time, isn't there?

Goodbye. Goodbye, Mrs. Roper.

Goodbye!

You know, Bunty, things are certainly changing.

Well, they are. Bearer!

Memsahib!

Express to Delhi.