01x02 - Episode 2

[bunniefuu]

MAN: Rise.

[People standing]

[Organ playing]

Look ahead to a life
worth living

Full of hope, full of faith,
full of cheer

To a life that
is made for giving

Without stint,
without shame, without fear

Look ahead
to the One who leads us

To the Lord
who guides our ways

We shall follow,
follow, follow

We shall follow Him
all our days

Captioning made possible by
Acorn Media

[Singing indistinctly]

Oh, sir,
could I just--

But it's
Boyer, sir.

[Singing ends]

"The Lord is my shepherd.
I shall not want.

"He maketh me lie down
in green pastures.

"He leadeth me beside
the still waters.

"He restoreth my soul.

"He leadeth me in the paths
of righteousness

"for his name's sake.

"Yea, though I walk through
the valley

"of the shadow of death,


for thou art with me."

[indistinct chatter]

Anyway, they'd never get
across the Channel.

And what's
to stop them?

The Yanks.

How are they going
to do that, then?

Well, I don't know how
they're going to do it.

I'm not in charge.

You better hope
they do, Codface.

If the Germans
get over here,

you're just the sort of chap
they'd look out for.

What for?

For their beastly
atrocities, of course.

You're so pink
and plump.

Bloody fool.

What was that?

Um, we were just
having a discussion

about the w*r, sir.

Codsell here takes
a pessimistic view, sir.

And you don't, eh?

What do you think
about it, sir?

Why should my opinion
be better than yours?

Well, because you
were out there, sir.

Well, I wasn't exactly

planning our strategy,
Codsell.

Well, nobody else,
sir, even knows

what it looks like.

I can't see what's
going to stop Ludendorff.

Don't you think he's
overextended himself?

Ah, there you are,
Codface, just as I said.

I said he'd overextended
himself, sir,

but Codsell
wouldn't have it.

You see, he's not
fighting battles anymore.

He's advancing across
devastated country.

No towns, no farmland,
no supplies.

I really do think
he's going to

run out of steam
pretty soon and,

well, then there's a real
chance of a counterattack,

and it's the Americans
who'll spearhead it.

There you are, Codface.
Just as I said.

Great minds
think alike, sir.

CORDWAINER: A word with you,
Mr. Powlett-Jones.

These boys are fools,
dolts, and nincompoops.

I should be most grateful
if you'll not

distract them
from their task.

l...I'm sorry.
What task?

Polishing founder's oak.
These are late boys.

Late boys polish
founder's oak.

Do you not,
late boys?

BOTH: Yes, sir.

Why were you late?

We're fools, dolts,
and nincompoops, sir.

You are, you are.
You're quite right.

Strange little
beasts, boys.

They are.

They were actually
discussing

the situation
at the front.

Oh, discussing now?

Better than polishing
if you can get away with it.

Polish on, dolts.

Curious thing is they seem
to have a more vivid grasp

of what's going on
out there than--

than a lot of adults
around here.

Is that so?

Well, I'm not concerned with
what's going on out there.

It's beyond my control.

What is within my control
is what is going on here.

Do you see?

Seems to me that what
is important is that

founder's oak
should be polished

and that fools, dolts,
and nincompoops

should polish it
when they are told.

It seems to me
that this is

what our brave lads
are defending.

Otherwise, what is
the point of it all?

Never mind, sir.
You did try.

Don't be disrespectful,
Dobson.

Left. Left.
Left, right, left.

Squad, halt!

Squad will advance!

Right turn!

Order arms!

[Speaking French]

Stand at ease!

Stand easy.

Now, lads, I daresay
you've been exposed

to some pretty puzzling
talk lately

about the Hun being the same
sort of chap as you or me;

about the real villains
being people

who make a profit
out of the w*r, eh?

Well, my advice is
let them talk

and keep your own
counsel.

The Hun is not the same
as you or I.

Just think what the Hun did
to Nurse Cavell.

Just think what the Huns
did in Louvain.

Hard for a chap
to keep things straight

when he's been
at the front too long.

Enough said.

Squad, attention.

Very good.

Fall out.

They're shaping up well,
Powlett-Jones.

Damn well.

Good.

Yes, it is good.

They've got
the right spirit.

Actually, well,
I hope you don't mind

my taking your name
in vain,

but I, uh, I took the
liberty of telling them

how Lieutenant Powlett-Jones
might be quite impressed

with the way
that they drilled.

I'm sure
he'd be thrilled.

The rhyme was
unintentional,

I assure you.

No, actually, well,
I was wondering

if you'd be good enough
to come over

and give them a bit
of an inspection.

It'd buck them up
no end.

No. Thanks.

Oh. Oh, dear.

I rather gave them
to expect that you--

Well, I'm sorry, Carter.
That's not my fault.

You're not being very
cooperative, you know.

Good God, man, those lads
are going to need

all the support
they can get

if they're
going out there.

I hope they don't
have to go.

I think it may all be
over by the time

their turn comes up.

I'm sorry if that
disappoints you.

There is absolutely no need
to adopt that tone with me.

And if they do have
to go, God help them!

They'll be marching
out there

in step, shoulders back,
when everybody else

with a bit of sense
is trying to

keep his head down
and keep his feet dry.

All right. Fine.
Oh, jolly good.

I'm sorry you feel
that way, old man.

Very sorry indeed.

You know, Powlett-Jones,
you really mustn't

let our tame jingo interfere
with your convalescence.

Really not worth
the candle.

Hard to resist
being drawn, of course.

Carter of the Corps.

I fear the man's
a complete...poopstick.

I'd give a good deal to
know whether

he's really got
a gammy knee.

Oh, what a malicious
thought.

We've always taken it
on trust here, you know.

Perhaps it's a blessing
in disguise, though,

genuine or not.

I shouldn't care
to have him

leading me
into battle, would you?

No, by God, I wouldn't.

I suppose we couldn't get
some chubby cherub

to give him
the white feather.

Do you think that
would be amusing?

Oh, no.
Look, I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have
mentioned it at all.

Oh, don't say that.

It's really
very good of you

to make a contribution
to my entertainment.

Really.

Carter a malingerer.
That's delightful.

The boys are
no problem, really.

Oh, you find them
bearable, do you,

those pampered
puppies?

Well, I don't suppose
it's their fault

they're not running
around barefoot.

You know, you're looking
a lot fitter

than when you first
came here.

Oh, I feel fit enough.
I feel fine.

You do?

Well, I feel
a lot better.

I see you out walking
a lot on your own.

Yes, well, at first
I felt that I had to

get out of the place
a lot.

Not so much now.

I set myself targets--

up to the moor
in half an hour,

that sort of thing.

Silly, really.

Up to the moor
in half an hour.

That's not
bad going.

You should see me
wheezing.

You know, that neurologist
of yours was no fool.

Upland air and a closed
community, he said, eh?

Seems to be working
for you.

Yes.

I suppose you'll be
moving on soon, eh?

Pastures new.

Oh, I don't know
about that.

We're corrupting you.

You're fitting in.
Now, don't you deny it.

I like the teaching
well enough--

more than I thought
possible,

but I don't belong
on the staff.

Hmm?

I feel like
a complete outsider--

wrong...class,
wrong nationality,

wrong bloody century.

How's the knee, Carter?

What? Oh.

Gotta watch it,
you know.

Thank you.

What do you think Carter
does in the holidays?

sh**t snipe?
Polish his boots?

Hang about wistfully
outside

Knightsbridge Barracks?

Oh, probably something
quite ordinary.

Mmm. Goes home to
a nice little cottage

and nice old mother
who bullies him about

putting his dirty boots
on her clean floor.

That's about it,
do you think?

You've near enough hit the
mark for me there, Howarth.

Ah, very good, too.

Family life,
warm and comforting.

Welsh family life
particularly so,

I understand.

I envy you.

Mother's favorite boy
returning.

Just the thing.

Except that it's the
first time I've managed

to drag myself back
since I was

invalided out of France.

Like that, hmm?

Ah, well,
another illusion gone.

Nothing in this world is
what it's cracked up to be.

And now you tell me
Welsh family life

is as hollow as
all the other shams.

No, I...
I didn't mean that.

It's just that...

well, I didn't feel
I was ready...

Oh, hell,
I can't explain it.

My dear chap,
don't try.

I'm sure it'll be
a great success.

You look ready
for anything now.

Think of me, anyway,
rioting with mad abandon

in Bournemouth
with my maiden aunt.

I, too, will be
having my moments...

in glorious Wales.

Oh, Davy,
tha's thin.

What'd you get all
like that for?

He's all skin
and bone.

He's like tuppenny
for bones

from the butcher,
Emrys.

Oh, dear, was you
gonna stew him?

Well, he shouldn't
be as thin as that.

Aren't they feeding
him at that college?

Well, it'll be all
lark's tongues

and caviar
and that, see?

Nothing filling.
Nothing substantial.

Hello, then, Davy.

Emrys.

Tch, tch, tch.

Steel and whipcord.

I'll get the tea on,
is it?

Well, then,
took your time coming.

In no hurry to see us,
was you?

It wasn't that,
Emrys, honest.

I just didn't want Mam
to see me the way I was.

Believe it or not,
I have put on weight.

She took it a bit hard,
writing, saying

don't come and see me in
the hospital and that.

Well, it--it was
a long way to come.

Bloody hell! I'd have
brought her there.

Wouldn't have minded
seeing a bit of you

myself, come to that.

We were just waiting for
the bloody word, man.

I... was a bit
rough, you know.

Oh, aye?

H-had the shakes
and that.

Oh, aye?

Look, I--l just felt

that I couldn't
face it, that's all.

Other people got
feelings, too, boy.

I know that...

but if you haven't
had shell shock,

you can't have any idea
of what it's like.

Aye. Well...

Funny. The house seems
so small now.

Well, it would do
after that college.

I didn't mean that.

I can remember walking
into that sideboard

and hitting
my head on it.

Aye, that's right.

You never did know
whether you was

coming or going.

Wandering around half
top with a bogey

hanging out of your nose
and a big red bruise

on your forehead.

Will you have a cup of tea
in your hand now,

while you're waiting?

All right, Mam,
thanks.

Oh. Oh, it's so nice
having you here.

Well, of course
it is, Emrys.

It's the best news
in years, man.

Well, you'd know,
I suppose.

But the w*r
could be over

in a matter
of months.

Aye, well, that's
your w*r, isn't it?

I don't know
what you mean.

Don't you?

You know, there's one thing
makes me laugh a bit,

and that's this idea
going around

that you're the brainy one
of the family

just because you went
and took up

your scholarship
at the grammar.

Any one of us could have
done as well as you've done.

Hughie had twice
your brains.

Bryn wasn't stupid.

I mean, compared to them,
you don't know

you're bloody born.

But Hughie and Bryn
had to go down the mine

and get buried alive
with Dadda,

and you get your
school certificates

just because you were
the youngest, that's all.

Any one of us
could have done it.

I know that, Emrys.

But it wasn't my fault,
was it?

Well, was it?

What are you trying
to make of it?

Just makes me smile,
that's all.

You still don't know
you're born, man.

We haven't been to w*r
with the Germans.

I haven't met any Germans,
but I daresay

they have to go down
German bloody coal mines

and hack out German
bloody coal

for German bloody
bosses.

See, the w*r's hardly
started for us yet.

There's still a class w*r
going on, man,

between us
and the coal owners.

That's our w*r, see?

Well, you reckon
a revolution here, then,

like the Russians had?

No, it couldn't happen.
Couldn't happen here.

Oh, you go everywhere,
you do, and you see nothing.

You know,
when you sit around

in your
gentleman's college,

reading in the Daily Mail
about dangerous Bolsheviks

and spreaders of
an alien creed,

well, that's us, Davy.

That's your own brother,
I'm afraid,

and the kids you used to
play in the street with.

Different w*r, see.

Yes.

See, Davy,
the kind of w*r news

that interested me was
when the men mutinied

against their own
officers and made

their own peace
settlement.

Oh, of course,
I was forgetting

you were an officer
yourself.

You haven't the faintest idea
what it was like out there.

Put it down to my lack
of education.

Look, it's not my fault I
went to the bloody grammar!

All right, kid,
all right.

But look what you're
doing with it.

All I hear is,
"What an honor.

Fancy our Davy teaching
in a school like that."

Well, I'm not impressed.

I don't ask you to--

And I daresay if you
spend long enough

saying, "Yes, sir,
no, sir,"

watching
how the nobs behave,

you'll turn yourself
into a proper

little gentleman.

I doubt it.

Go on, you'd take a
permanent job

if they offered it.

I don't know.

An officer, a gentleman,

and a master at
a public school.

Yeah, well,
I don't know.

Oh, come on, man,
cheer up.

I'm only teasing.

I wish you were.

Hey,
better get you to bed

if you're off again
early tomorrow.

Seaside this time,
is it?

That's it.

Nice, these teacher's
holidays.

Aye...better make
the most of you

while you're here
this time.

Got a feeling you don't
belong by here anymore.

Is it yours?

Sorry.

Uh...you stay there.
I'll bring it up.

Thank you.

It is yours, I suppose.

Yes.

Sorry. Silly thing
to say, really.

Well, here you are.

Thank you very much.

Well...

Hey!

I owe you tuppence.
Don't rush off.

Oh, no,
that's all right.

Still, you ought to
take it to be fair.

No, really, it's...

it's not every day
of the week a girl

throws her cap at me.

Oh, but I didn't
throw it, honestly.

It just blew off.

I must have been
leaning too far over.

I tried to grab it,
but I missed.

Oh, I see what you mean.

That was clever.

Were you thinking
what to say

while you were
coming up here?

No.

Well, yes.

You nearly didn't
say it at all.

Well, it seemed so...

Oh, dear, uh...

Uh, I'm not very good
at this.

Good at what?

Well, I, I, um...

Anyway, I did throw it.

Well, I didn't try
to grab it, anyway.

Didn't you?

It didn't seem as if you
were ever gonna look up.

Oh, uh...uh...

Couldn't we have
some tea?

Or--or coffee? I...

Oh, look, you're not,
uh,

not with anyone,
are you?

No, I'm not with anyone,
and I'd love some coffee.

I was just thinking
I'd go in and have some.

It's all right here.

I mean, the coffee is.
Come on.

I'll show you
my favorite table.

Aren't you gonna
sit down?

Oh, yes.

You all right?

Oh, sorry, yes.
It's just that, uh...

You've clicked.

Clicked?

It's what one of
my friends says

when she goes
on holiday.

Her aim is to click with
a fellow on the first day.

Oh, I see.

How long have you
been here?

Since last night.

Well, there you are,
then.

You've clicked
on your first day.

I'm only here
for the day.

Oh. Well, you had to,
then, didn't you?

Oh, uh, could we have
a pot of tea, please?

Coffee. I'm sorry.
Coffee.

Do you think
I'm always doing

this sort of thing?
I'm not.

Well, I was
just wondering what--

No, um, what I--
I meant was, um,

I don't see how
you came to pick me out.

It's a bit too soon

to be fishing for
compliments, sir.

We haven't been
introduced yet.

Oh, I--l wasn't, uh...

I'm David Powlett-Jones.

Elizabeth Marwood.
Beth, they call me.

How do you do?

How do you do?

I picked you out
because you look nice.

And interesting.

And because
I was fed up,

and you weren't taking
any notice of me at all.

Oh, I would have. I...

I mean, well, I am now.

Have you
been here before?

Yeah, I come here
every year.

My sister and
her husband live here.

He's a dairyman, see?

It's the only way
I can afford a holiday.

When I don't come here,
I go home to my father,

and that's not
so much fun.

My mother died
when I was 7.

So, that's me.

Do you want it
black or white?

Oh, black, please.

I never drank it
any other way in the mess.

Oh, jolly good.

You--you pour very well.

Do you work
in a restaurant?

Hotel, then?

Why do you ask?

Well, do you?

You like to get things
straight, don't you?

You're an officer
and a gentleman,

and I'm no one
in particular.

I-11 didn't say that.

Does that mean you don't
want to know me anymore,

and will I do just for
your day at the seaside?

No, I... mean,
you must've got it wrong.

I--what did you think
I was trying to say?

Well, all that black
coffee in the mess.

"I say, are you a
waitress or something?"

I didn't say that!

There's no need
to shout.

I didn't say that.

Didn't you?

Look, till I was 18,
I hardly ever had

a cup of coffee at all,
let alone black coffee.

It's just habit--
what you're used to.

In our valley, nobody drinks
anything but tea or beer.

Mining valley. That's what
my family are, miners.

We're not anybody's
social superiors

or--or inferiors,
either, see?

All right?

Right. Good.

I mean, what's it matter
whether you drink the stuff

black or white
or not drink it at all?

You drink what you like
the taste of, I should think.

All right.
All right.

Good.

You're not drinking
your coffee.

Oh...

Sugar.

Thank you.

Nothing about how well
I pass the sugar?

Look, I don't mind you
being a waitress.

It's a fine thing to be
if that's what--oh.

Actually, I'm a nurse.

Well, there you are, then.

This coffee's awful,
though.

I wish I'd had
a cup of tea.

It's not so bad
with milk in.

Come on,
pass your cup.

It's my birthday today.

Would you join me in
a large slice of cake?

So, I've taken on
quite a lot

for my birthday treat.

Sorry.

Ooh, I'm not.

I think you're
well on the mend.

Do you?

Professional opinion?

I don't go in for
lame dogs, I'm afraid.

Too much like my job.

Oh.

It's all right.
You're not one.

As you well know.

Ooh, this coffee's
gone cold.

Shall I order
another pot?

No, it's all right.

We always used to drink
cold coffee

dining in nights
in the mess.

You didn't.

Oh, yes.
Regimental tradition.

It used to come out
on a little silver tray.

The colonel drank first,
and then it was passed around

to the right
in order of rank.

How much sugar?


used to have 10 in the mess.

You're a very funny man,
you know.

Do you think so? Nobody else
seems to see me that way.

They're wrong.
They're wrong.

I take life
enormously seriously.

I know. That's all
part of it.

Go on.
Say something else.

Well, there's
this chap at school--

man called Herries--
headmaster, actually--

He seems to find me funny.

He seems to find
everybody funny,

and nobody seems
to mind very much.

What's he like?

He's a funny sort of chap,
I suppose, you see.

He's got a big red nose,
and he trots around everywhere,

puffing and blowing
and laughing to himself.

He sounds nice.

Oddly enough, you remind me
of him in a sort of way.

Oh! My first compliment.

Oh, no, look, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean--

It's all right. I think
I know what you mean.

What should we do
this afternoon?

Don't say you're busy.

No, I'm not, but you
don't want to spend

your whole birthday
with me.

Oh, yes, I do.

BETH: Oh, no,

they never seemed to
let us nurse soldiers.

I was a probationer
then,

and the staff nurses
hogged all the men's wards.

Tough old birds for
the young casualties,

and we got
the old pensioners.

So that was it.

I never knew there were
any young, pretty nurses.

All mine were--well,
they weren't like you.

I wish they had been.

No, I don't, really.

I wouldn't have been able to
appreciate what I was getting.

I do now.

I could tell you'd been
in the army straightaway.

Oh, I know.

Black coffee in a mess.
Don't rub it in.

No, before that,
just from looking at you.

All the men who were
in the trenches

have that same look
about them, as though...

Well, I could tell anyway.

No, what were you
going to say?

No, it doesn't matter.

Men who were out there

don't want to talk
about it.

That's very perceptive
of you.

No, it isn't.

It's just what
everybody says.

BETH:
As a matter of fact,

I don't even think
it's true.

I think...

well, I think men
who were in the w*r

don't want to start
talking about it,

for once
they've started,

they can't stop.

Then they can't talk
about anything else.

Yes, I know
what you mean.

I think I'm through
all that now.

I will listen
if you want me to...

even on my birthday.

No, I wouldn't do that
to you.

Still, my other subject
is just as bad, though.

Not classics.

History.

All right, go on, then,

so long as you don't give me
an exam at the end of it.

Right.

You see that tower
there?

Look at that.

Now, a man would stand
at each of these windows

and aim his arrows
at the men below.

Who did they sh**t at?

Welshmen, of course.

All these Marcher
castles are built

to hold back the Welsh.

Just think, all that
toil and money and sweat

and ingenuity just
to hold out the Welsh.

And after all that, you got
into the castle so easily.

Yes.

They certainly knew
how to dominate

the approaches
in those days.

They certainly did.

And then you must come
back and meet Esther

and Griff and have tea.

And then we'll go to
the concert on the pier.

Won't they mind--

your sister
and brother-in-law?

No. Why should they?

You'll get
nice cream.

Don't forget,
he's a dairyman.

Was he in the w*r?

No. He's got
a heart murmur.

Oh, come on.

It's got to be better
than the Y.M.C.A.

And anyway,
I want you to,

and it's
my birthday.

What will they think?

Oh, they'll love it,

especially Griff.

You'll find you have
connections with him.

Connections?
How do you mean?

Ah, you'll see.

He's mad on connections,
is Griff.

You mustn't laugh,
though.

And do you know they were
in the very same class--

Standard 4, with Miss Proud.

Sat in the back row,
done each other's pigtails,

lived in and out
of each other's houses,

and never seen each other

till she came
to stay by here.

That's amazing.

That's amazing all right,
Mr. Powlett-Jones.

So, you see,

when Esther came down
to stay with her auntie,

it was more or less
a foregone conclusion.

Oh, yes.

Because of the auntie
and the cream, you see.

You see,
it's a belief of mine

that everything
is connected,

if you dig deep enough.

And I'm a deep digger.

Have a bun.

Oh, thank you.

You have known Beth
a long time?

Uh, no,
not very long.

Oh. Down here
on holiday, are you?

Just for tonight.

I'm staying
at the Y.M.C.A.

It's a bad lot
go there.

You want to stay
with us, man.

Where would he sleep?
You'd have to throw me out.

Oh, no, I'm
all right, really.

Well, if you're sure.

Now, where do you come from,
Mr. Powlett-Jones?

Oh, Pontnewydd.

It's near
Abergavenny.

Pontnewydd?

Pontnewydd?

Oh, dear.

It's not as bad
as all that.

No, wait a minute.
It's coming.

You wouldn't happen
to know a man

by the name of Sammy Pritchard
in Pontnewydd, would you?

Um, Sammy Pritchard.

Just a minute.

Yes, of course,
he used to live

around the corner
in Trealice Street.

Uh, didn't he
have a--

Wooden leg!
Yes, you got him!

Well, Sammy Pritchard.

And just around
the corner from you.

In Trealice Street,
yes.

Well, would you
credit it!

He took snuff and kept
a whippet, didn't he?

Well, I'll give you
the snuff,

but I never saw
a whippet about him.

He wouldn't
take it away

on holiday with him,
would he?

No. Any change of air
can affect their speed.

Delicate creatures.

Well, old
Sammy Pritchard.

Very fond of talking to
babies in their prams.

Was he, hmm?

Oh, yes, yes. It was
quite a thing with him.

He was a--he was a
connoisseur of babies.

And whippets.

And snuff.

He used to lean over
the baby carriage--

With the whippet?

Oh, no,

he was very strict
with the whippet.

He's always make it
sit down, and then

he'd look at the baby
and turn to the dog

and say, "Brutus,
there's a beauty.”

Well, I never
saw him do that,

but that sounds like
Sammy Pritchard to me.

[Humming]

Did you enjoy it?

I always enjoy concerts,

especially when I go
with you.

It's the first time I've been
to a concert with a girl.

Oh, go on,
pull the other one.

No, really, I--

I was still a schoolboy when
I got dragged into the w*r.

All homework.

Never got started, see?

Not like the boys
who went down the mine.

You're making up
for it now.

You were nice
with Griff.

I like him.

It was funny, though--

you both knowing
that Sammy Pritchard.

Yes.

I never heard of him
in my life.

You mean
you made it all up?

Suddenly, it seemed
the thing to do.

Ooh, David, you liar.

Is it all right
if I call you David?

Of course it is.

Is it all right
if I call you a liar?

Seems only fair.

I didn't know
you were like that.

I don't mean a liar.

I mean the sort of
person that does things

for fun on the spur
of the moment.

Neither did I.

I don't think I am.

It must be
your effect on me.

Come on.
I'll walk you home.

Well, here we are.

I've had a lovely birthday.

Thank you, David.

I've got to go back
tomorrow.

I know.
Isn't it awful?

Would--would you
see me again?

I'd like to.

I could write.

I don't know where
to write to.

Write to me here, please,
as soon as you get back,

if you've got time.

Oh, yes, I will.

Well...

good night, then.

ALGY: How do you think
he's looking, Ellie?

I think he's filling out
splendidly, don't you?

Oh, you talk about him

as though he were
a prize pig, my dear.

But I am very pleased

to see you looking
so much better.

Do you find this term
less tiring,

Mr. Powlett-Jones?

Oh, I'm really enjoying it,
thank you, Mrs. Herries.

But you're tired
of being treated

as though you were
an invalid?

Oh, no,
I didn't mean that.

Of course you are.

But don't let him
talk you into coaching

the rugby team just yet.

I wouldn't think of it.

But I'm glad to see
you're still keeping up

those long walks, P.J.

He's changed
his route, Ellie.

What do you make
of that?

I suppose he's free to
walk anywhere he likes.

Up to the post office


Have another tea cake,
Mr. Powlett-Jones.

Striding out like
a man with a mission.

Does you good to see him.

Mmm! Oh, don't forget,
it's Founder's Day very soon,

and I particularly like it
when the masters bring a guest.

ELLIE:
Oh, dear, such tact.

I'm afraid you'll have to
regard that as a command.

[Boys shouting]

All right!

Places!





I should think so.

Well, gentlemen,

I've marked
your half-term papers.

Perhaps that should
sober you up.

No, Dobson?

Well, in your case,
that surprises me.

Well, what is it?

It's armistice, sir.

What?

Cease-fire's 11:00, sir.

Daffy's uncle in
Fleet Street telephoned.

There's going to be
a holiday.

BOY: It's true, sir.
the w*r's over.

All right!

[Boys cheering]

All right! Stop that!

Stop that. Boyer?

Sir?

Quietly now.

It's true, sir,
as far as anyone knows.

There's going to be
a sausaging

in the big hall tonight.

What on earth is that?

None of us have actually
ever been to one,

but there's going to
be one tonight, sir.

And Mr. Herries says

it's up to individual
members of staff

whether they teach
the lesson, sir.

BOYER: Shop's open
all afternoon, sir.

[Boys talking at once]

Well, in the circumstances,
gentlemen,

perhaps
I'd better say I...

I'll see you all
this evening.

[Boys singing indistinctly]

It's a bore, David,

but they've got to
attach their feelings

to someone, eh?

Try and put up with it.

It's just that
it's all a bit--

You know, they
nearly all have fathers

or brothers out there.

[Singing indistinctly]

Might have been them.

I'm glad it wasn't.

Go on, have a sausage.
Indulge yourself.

And a white moon beams

There's a long, long night
of waiting

Until my dreams
all come true

Till the day
when I'll be going

Down that long, long trail
with you

There's a long, long trail
a-winding

Into the land
of my dreams

Where the nightingales
are singing...

[Crying]

And a white moon beams...

Ah, hello there,
Powlett-Jones.

Saw you slinking off,
my dear chap.

Obliged to you
for the hint.

Bit much, I felt.

Still, one can't
blame them.

Look, just say the word,
and I'll go away.

No.

No, it's all right.

I thought it was over--

feeling that way
about it.

Look here,

why not come up
to my rooms?

Nothing elaborate.

I simply propose
to drink gin

at a slow
and steady rate

until I lapse into
total unconsciousness.

Yes.

Yes, I should be
delighted.

Till the day
when I'll be going...

You really are a very
tolerant young chap,

Powlett-Jones.

Very civil of you
to sit there

and drink my gin
and smoke my cigarettes

and listen to my maudlin
indiscretions.

That's all right.

You haven't been indiscreet,
have you?

Not yet,

but I feel the urge
coming upon me.

Powlett-Jones,
do you know Heine?

No, I don't think so.

Is he in your house?

Good God, no.

What a strange chap
you are.

I was referring
to the poet.

The German poet.

Oh.

Irony again, you see?

"Wars and justice have
far different laws,

"and worthless acts are
often done quite well.

"The rascal's shots were
better than his cause,

and I was hit
and hit again and fell.”

Appropriate,
wouldn't you say?

Appropriate to
the whole generation.

And ironic.

I thought Heine
wrote a lot about love.

Oh, he did.

He most indubitably did.

Indubitably.

Yes.

"The old dream
comes again to me

"with May-night
stars above.

"We two sat under
the linden tree

"and swore
eternal love.

Again and again we
plighted troth..."

Ah!

Burned my fingers.

Howarth, have you
ever been married?

No. You?

No.

I nearly was when I was
about your age.

Seemed just the thing,
what with the Heine

and so on, you know.

I was very naive
at your age.

Girl did the
right thing, though--

married a stockbroker.

Wasn't the financial
aspect, either.

No, she just couldn't face
the bloody awful prospect

of a lifetime as
a schoolmaster's wife.

That's what it was,
you see.

Miserable prospects,

bleak accommodation,

thoroughly dispiriting
companions...

present company
excepted, of course.

What woman in her senses
would take that on?

There's Mr.
and Mrs. Herries.

Oh, that man's a law
unto himself.

I'm talking about
ordinary mortals

like you and me.

If you want
to stick it,

put all sort of tender
domesticity from your mind

and live alone...
withouten any company.

Treasure small
compensations, P.J.

A little
temporary power,

toasting
your own muffins,

not having
to share them,

bed socks in winter

snowflaked
with sheet fluff.

It's
a bachelor's life,

Powlett-Jones,
my dear chap.

You'd better
face up to it.

I want you to meet
my chum Dobson.

Hello.

Sorry. I shouldn't
have done that, David.

No, it's all right,
really.

It's so good
to see you again.

Oh, look, I'll give you
some money for the taxi.

Later.

Well...

I think I'm wearing

all the wrong sort
of things.

Nonsense.
Of course you're not.

Oh, well, they can take
me as they find me.

The chapel used to be
an old abbey.

It was founded about
a thousand years ago.

That was him, was it?

The one
with the red nose?

Shh.

But that was the head?

Yes.

The one you said
I reminded you of?

Well, only
your sense of humor.

Oh, yes.

Was that one of his
funny speeches, then?

Well, not one
of his funniest.

His private sort of jokes,
I suppose you say.

School sort of jokes.

They must have been.

He did seem nice,
though.

CARTER: Hello there,
Powlett-Jones.

I must dash.
Jolly nice to see you.



Splendid day.
Pity about the weather.

Oh, uh, Mr. Carter,
Miss Marwood.

Very nice to see you here.
Enjoying it?

Very much,
thank you.

Yes, well, it's not
such an old ruin

as it looks, you know.

It's not an old ruin
at all.

You should see
the bachelor quarters.

I hope I will.

Ha ha ha!

First class.
Jolly good, yes.

Powlett-Jones,
you're a dark horse.

Been stealing a march
on us all.

I'm frightfully sorry,
but I must dash.

Algy insisted on
a little Corps parade.

Try and make him bring you
along, Miss Marwood.

I'll try.

Oaf.

Oh, was that the Carter
you don't like?

I thought he was nice.

At least he seems
to let himself go

and enjoy himself.

Oh, yes, he does that,
all right.

I'm sorry, David.

I seem to spend
the whole time

disagreeing with you
and contradicting you.

I don't mean to, really.

"Algy insisted on
a little Corps parade.”

God.

I'm sorry, David,
but I don't understand.

Look, will you show me
where you live?

The dreaded
bachelor quarters?

There's nothing much
to see, really.

But if I'd seen
your room,

I'd be able to
imagine it, wouldn't I,

when I read
your letters.

Oh, come on, be a sport.

Oh, all right, then.

I told you there
wasn't much to see.

Have to leave
the door open, do you,

when you have
lady visitors?

No, I suppose not.

It's like
the nurses' home.

These are all
your books.

And this is where
you do your work.

Is that where you sit to
write your letters, too?

Sometimes there,

and sometimes
in the easy chair.

Good.

Is there anything else
I should see?

Well, I seem to spend
a good deal of my time

staring out the window.

Right.

And that's
about the lot.

And that's your bed.

Ooh, it's not
very soft, is it?

Come and sit by me,
David.

[Man shouting in distance]

You should have shut it.

BOY: But how can I go
if I don't know where it is?

SECOND BOY: In the big field,
of course, you idiot.

HOWARTH: What is
that unseemly noise?

You shouldn't be here now.
You know that.

So, we slink away again,
do we, Powlett-Jones?

Hello.

Oh, uh, may--

may I introduce a friend
of mine--Miss Marwood.

This is Mr. Howarth,
our senior English master.

How do you do, Mr. Howarth?
I've heard about you.

Uh, how do you do?

I-11 was just showing
Miss Marwood my room.

Oh, yes.

You've dropped your hat.

Oh, yes.

[Bell ringing]

Oh, my goodness,
it's that time already?

I must go. I'm late.

Um--um, good-bye.

It all seemed to go
so quickly.

Yes, in a way.

Look, I'm sorry

it was all so dreary
and boring.

But it wasn't, really.
I enjoyed it.

Nice of you to say so.

You see, before
you came, I--

I had this picture of
how it was going to be.

Oh, yes, so did I.

Always fatal, that.

Yes.

Well, never mind.

We'll make up for it
next time.

There will be one?

Oh, yes.

And we can write.

We can certainly write.

Good-bye, David.

Bye.

[Boys cheer]

David, what is it?

Will you marry me?

Oh!