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
Morning, scum.
Atkinson.
Hello, Dobbin.
Wouldn't have the runners
and riders at Newbury--
Good man.
CORDWAINER:
Good morning, gentlemen.
ALL: Morning, sir.
A miserable crew
of ne'er-do-wells
and nincompoops.
Boyer.
Sir?
You're in the Sixth Form
now, are you not?
Yes, sir.
And you're still repeating
your matriculation maths?
Is this
the eighth time, Boyer?
No, sir, the third.
Ah, the third.
Well, tell me, Boyer,
do you plan to haunt
my junior classes
until you're
a middle-aged man?
No, sir.
I'm sure I'll get it
this time, sir.
I can feel it
in my bones.
And bone is what
you have there
in that skull
of yours, I know.
[Laughter]
Silence! Sit.
Some of you may be laboring
under delusions.
Some of you may have been
listening to rumors.
Some of you have been told
that old Cordwainer
has been ill in hospital,
that he is not
what he was wont to be.
Some of you may have thought
that you're in for a soft time,
an easy life.
Nothing of the kind.
Old Cordwainer
has been in hospital,
but now he is back
and eager for the fray.
The doctors in the hospital
had the effrontery
to tell me to take it easy.
I told them, "Either you have
done your job properly
"or you have not.
"If you have, then I am cured,
but I am not going
to take it easy."
I have never taken it easy.
I don't know how to
take it easy, do I, Dobson?
No, sir.
Good.
Uh, thank you for your cards,
by the way,
and the flowers.
Much appreciated,
but I regret that they did not
soften my wrath
when I read through
your practice exam papers.
Pish, drivel,
waffle, and balderdash...
with very few exceptions.
Nethercott, 68.
Should have been 98.
Fairly good
is not good enough.
Well, come on.
Come and take it.
Stanley...
floundering.
Featherstone-Hall...
spelt his name right
at the top of the paper,
didn't get much else
right after that.
Chattergy...
scraped to pass.
Boyer.
Sir?
You're going to pass
this year, are you?
I, uh, hope so, sir.
Hope so, Boyer?
The winner is in
the unsaddling enclosure,
and you're
still running.
Sorry, sir?
This is the most
errant tosh,
gibberish, and nonsense
I have ever read
in my life.
Sorry, sir.
You're sorry?
I'm sorry.
This is mere blathering
and bunk, boy,
dithering,
mind-roving drivel.
I have never...
Um...
loosen his collar?
Better get someone, Dobbin.
I think he might be dead.
Sit down and get on
with your work.
[Organ playing]
Hold Thou Thy cross
Before my closing eyes
Shine through the gloom
And point me to the skies
Heaven's morning breaks
And Earth's
vain shadows flee
In life, in death
O Lord, abide with me
David...
I want a word
with you.
Come over and
see me, will you?
Give me
Yes, of course.
BOYER:
No, no, no, no, no.
Barnaby, definitely.
Then why is Herries
holding P.J. for a confab?
Probably telling him
to pull his socks up.
Telling him to spend
less time with his babies
and more time
with us poor chaps.
No. You have
to be past it
before they give you
a house job here.
Half a crown
to a sixpence,
it's going
to be Barnaby.
Well, he'll give us
a nice, quiet time.
I'll take you
at those odds.
I'm afraid you can't afford to
go any further in debt, Dobbin.
You're in hock to me for half
your worldly goods already.
Oh, be fair.
I couldn't possibly
permit it.
Your credit, sir,
has expired.
All right, then.
My Cissy Curran
to your half crown.
In a bathing suit?
Well, of course
in a bathing suit.
Well, let's see
the goods, then.
BOYER: Oh, very tempting,
very tem--
Get away from here,
you filthy fellows.
Wait till you reach
the age of maturity.
Oh, come on,
Boyer, please?
Be off with you.
Get out of it.
Leave us to enjoy
our pleasures.
Eh, she's not
half bad, is she?
Just a quick
squint, Boyer?
Out, out,
all of you!
Oh, cor.
I like that, Boyer.
This is junior, muckers,
not senior.
It's you who's got
no business here.
Ah, how the young
rise up to challenge us.
Curtis, I'm
a placid fellow,
but I'm a devil
when I'm roused.
Just do your imitation
of a sweet little chap.
Dobbin and I like to see
sweet, happy faces.
We're just passing
through, Curtis,
just passing through,
revisiting the scenes
of our misspent youth.
Of course, if we did
happen to see
any cheeky young toads
who need a beating--
Only the prefects
can beat.
You're not
a prefect yet, Boyer.
Oh, well, we'll
see about that.
Missed.
He's right, of course,
and, "Will I ever
be one?" I ask myself.
Huh. Boyer.
Huh? Oh, yes. Well...
I'll accept that.
She'll look very fine
in my collection.
Cissy Curran, eh?
What a beauty.
Curious to think
she's young
Winterbourne's mater.
She's not.
Oh, don't tell me
you didn't know.
You're pulling my leg.
I'm not.
Why isn't she called
Cissy Winterbourne, then?
Dobbin,
you are slow.
Cissy Curran
is her stage name,
her maiden name,
I daresay.
If she ever was
a maiden, eh?
Ha ha ha!
Simmer down, Dobbin.
There he is.
Odd-looking cove,
isn't he?
Well, so would you be
if you had a mater
like his, I daresay,
half of Bamfylde
dreaming about her.
Do you know,
I think he has got
a bit of a look of her.
Same big eyes.
Do you see it, Boyer?
I think I'm going to ask
your new housemaster
to have a serious
chat with you...
Oh, stop ragging.
or perhaps I better
warn Winterbourne.
I say, Spats--
DOBSON: I'll
thump you, Boyer!
Off sketching?
Yes, Boyer.
Well, lovely day for it.
Off you go.
He looked like
a frightened rabbit.
All his mater's
fault, of course.
Ah.
Who shall find me
a virtuous woman?
For her price
is far above rubies.
I say, Boyer...
Huh?
What's her price,
then?
Who?
Ruby's. Ha ha ha!
Yes. Very good,
very good.
But a woman
is only a woman--
remember that--
but a good cigar
is a smoke.
Come on. Let's go.
So it's half a crown
to Winterbourne's mater
in a bathing suit
that Barnaby is next
head of Havelock's.
Let me have men about me
that are fit, eh?
Mind you, that's the way
to go, in full spate,
one moment bawling out
some poor little toad
for bad work
and the next moment
knocking on the gate.
Well, I daresay
I should be hearing
the recall myself
before too long.
Oh, nonsense.
You'll see us all out.
I'm getting near to
retiring age, you know.
But you'll go on
after 65.
The governors will
ask you to stay on.
Oh, better the devil
they know, huh? Well...
Get a comfortable
little parish somewhere
preaching sermons
to a few old widows
with wooden legs.
That'll suit Algy
well enough.
Before long, you know,
this school
is going to need
a livelier man than me.
The average boy
is changing.
Like everything else,
they'll soon
be demanding more
than Latin and Greek
and a bit of pi-jaw,
and it'll be up to
young fellows like you
to provide it.
I'm beginning to feel a bit
like a dinosaur already.
Oh, h* h* h*!
Mm. I'm serious.
Now come on.
More important things
than that to talk about.
Now, who's looking after
Cordwainer's dog?
Towser? Oh, Weber-Tibbs.
Excellent. How is he?
Eating his dinner
and chasing sticks?
Oh, being chased,
more like.
Some of the boys are giving
him a terrible runaround.
Ha ha!
Just what he needs.
And what about you?
What do you mean?
What about
your life, man?
What about your life?
Well, it's fine.
Fine, is it?
How long have you been
at Bamfylde, David?
and you've got
a good honors degree
behind you now,
and you're
writing a book,
as if you haven't
got enough to do.
Margaret of Anjou,
is it?
Yes, that's right.
Hmm.
You know what you are?
You're a man to be
reckoned with.
How much longer are you going
to give us, do you think?
Oh, I'm sorry. I don't
know what you mean.
Well, I mean,
I'd have thought
you'd be off
to better things
before now.
Why haven't you
been applying
for house jobs
at other schools?
Well, we've been
very happy here.
You mean,
you think I ought
to go somewhere else?
I mean, I think you should
have a bit more ambition,
trusting family man
like you and all that.
Who do you fancy
for Cordwainer's house?
Oh, um, uh, I suppose
I thought Barnaby.
Uh, he hasn't got
a house yet,
and he's been here
a good few years.
Quite right.
Or Carter. I'm sure
he'd like it.
Havelock's is much
larger than his house.
Yes, very true.
And what about
Powlett-Jones?
Me?
If you won't go,
I suppose
I'll have to do
something for you here.
I'm going to take
a chance on you.
Of course, you're
far too young,
and the older men
won't like it a bit.
So don't you
let me down.
Well, I--
I don't know just--
Oh, my goodness me!
I've got
two sets of parents
waiting to see me.
I must dash, David.
I must dash.
DAVID: You don't seem
particularly thrilled.
You haven't told me
anything about it.
Well, it's an extra
hundred a year.
Hundred? All for us?
We'll all have
fur coats.
Well, I thought
maybe, um...
a car.
A car?
Ooh, yes.
That is a good idea.
Mm. Where's
the catch, then?
No catch.
Big house, more
responsibility.
Such as rescuing boys
from burning buildings,
you mean.
Well, I don't suppose
we'll have another fire
for a year or two
at least.
Still, we do have to be
on call 24 hours a day.
But woe betide
anyone who calls us, eh?
I didn't notice
old Cordwainer
losing too much sleep
over his charges.
We'll have to give it
§ years, though, Beth.
Algy would expect that.
Ah.
Think you
could stand it?
If you can.
[Exhales]
Ooh!
[Knock on door]
Come in.
[Door opens]
Ah, Boyer.
Come in. Sit down.
Just put it down
somewhere, Boyer.
It seems strange
to see you here, sir.
Yes. Well, you're going to
have to get used to it.
Now then, Boyer,
any guesses as to why
I wanted to see you?
Felt like a chat, sir?
I've had a chat...
with Mr. Barnaby.
Oh.
I'd just like you
to tell me
if the night before last
you borrowed a motorbike,
disguised yourself
in a false beard
and mustache,
rode to
the Maltster's Arms,
and drank a half a pint
of beer there
in the presence
of Mr. Barnaby.
Uh, not quite, sir.
Well?
It was a pint of beer.
I bought half a pint
for the landlord.
It was a bet, sir.
What do you suppose
prompted you
to this
idiotic performance?
I'm not quite sure, sir.
I was very elated
at having passed
a maths test at last,
and I'm afraid I've
always had a tendency
to exhibitionism.
Exhibitionism?
Don't you quote your
fancy Freudian words at me!
I could get you
kicked out for this!
Do you know that? Where
do you think you're going?
Nowhere, sir.
I just thought I ought
to be standing up.
In the corner, I suppose.
Oh, sit down, you idiot.
Thank you, sir.
How long have you
been here, Boyer?
Over 6 years, sir.
Longer than me.
And I was hoping
to give you
some responsibility
this year.
Does that mean I've been
passed over, sir?
Well, would you
blame me?
No, sir.
I was just
thinking, sir,
perhaps we could make
some sort of bargain?
What sort of bargain?
Well, sir,
if you could overlook
this last incident,
I could
promise you, sir,
that it will be
the last.
Oh, it will, Boyer.
And I'd back you up
to the hilt, sir.
You see, the trouble is,
when you've got
a reputation like mine,
it's a bit difficult
to stop over the night.
The chaps sort of
expect it of me,
if you know what I mean.
Then the chaps are going
to be very disappointed
in you from now on,
aren't they?
Oh, no, sir. I mean,
yes, sir. I mean--
Oh, just shut up
and listen, Boyer!
I'm going to take
a gamble on you.
I'm going to make you
my house captain,
and, by God, you
better not let me down!
I think I can get
Mr. Herries to confirm it,
but everyone else
in this building
will think I'm
completely off my head.
So it's up to you
to prove them wrong.
Got it?
Uh, yes, sir.
Well, of course
I confirmed it.
Thank you.
Now, you've got
to back a fellow up,
but really, Ellie, I mean,
of all the mad choices.
Poor old Judy Cordwainer
must be spinning
in his grave like a top.
h* h*! I'd give anything
to see his face
if he could hear
about it, eh?
Havelock's House
in the tender care
of a Bolshie
and a lunatic.
Boyer is not
a lunatic, my dear.
Oh, no? Don't you
think so, dear?
Well, that's
very reassuring.
No. I see him
much more as a member
of the criminal
classes, Algy.
Huh? Yes? What?
Why, you know--
cashiered by his regiment
for gambling debts
or g*n-running
or one of those people
who hang around
the fringes
of the members bars
at the smarter
racecourses.
Oh, Ellie.
Oh, I know a great deal
more than you think.
You seem to think
I had no existence
before I met you
and disappeared forever
into pedagogical
obscurity.
I used to mix
a good deal
in horsy circles
of the better sort.
Oh, yeah?
Young Boyer was able to
give me a very good tip
on last year's
Cambridgeshire.
Oh, good.
Yes.
I think he'll make
an excellent
house captain...
if he can be restrained
from pawning the school
cross-country cup.
[All shouting]
Stop!
Get off me, will you?
Now come on.
[All shouting]
Hit him!
BOYER: All right.
All right. Up.
Up, you thug.
Gloves
in the gym!
ALL: Gloves in the gym!
Gloves in the gym!
Cut it out!
Bloodthirsty g*ng.
Right.
I'm giving you
a count of 5.
Any boy I see after that
is on litter patrol.
Oh, no, not you, Curtis.
All right, Curtis.
What's it all about?
Why can't you pick on someone
your own size, huh?
Winterbourne
started it, Boyer.
Oh, did he?
Well, that was very foolish
of him, wasn't it?
All right. What's it all about,
Winterbourne?
Well, come on.
Out with it.
What's it all about?
Nothing.
All right. Look.
You cut along for now.
I'll see you later.
No, not you, Curtis.
Now look, Curtis.
The suspense
is k*lling me.
If you don't tell me
what this is about,
I'm gonna have
to thump you myself.
You know what
a gentle soul I am.
Do I have to, Boyer?
Yes.
Well, it was
about his mother.
And?
Well, I said
she was a wh*re,
and he heard about it.
[Sigh]
Know what a wh*re
is, do you, Curtis?
Not exactly, Boyer.
A wh*re
is a prost*tute.
Winterbourne's mother
is a famous actress
and a special
favorite of mine.
She is not a wh*re,
and her private life
has nothing to do
with us, anyway.
I know. I know.
I don't know why I said it.
Oh, I do. Because
you're a fool,
and you thought
it sounded good
at the time, right?
More or less.
I never meant him
to hear it, though.
I don't suppose
you did.
You're as big a fool
as I was at your age.
I would've apologized,
but he just went mad.
Well, how would you feel
if your mother
was splashed
all over the newspapers
and half the Sixth Form
had postcards of her
in a bathing suit,
then some great oaf
goes off calling her
a wh*re?
I'd k*ll him.
Right.
Come and sit down.
I'm gonna take a gamble
on you, Curtis.
I'm going to make you
my head of dormitory,
and what I want you
to do is to make sure
that there's no ragging
of Winterbourne
and no smart chat
about his ma
after lights out.
Now, do you think
you can do that
without making it
obvious to Winterbourne?
Yes. Yes, I think so.
Thanks a lot, Boyer.
Good...
because the poor little
beggar is going to need
all the help he can get
over the next
couple of weeks.
I don't like fights in my house.
They're supposed
to clear the air,
but more often than not,
they work
the other way round.
Well, I'm sure
it's worked out
all right
this time, sir.
Curtis isn't a bad
sort of chap.
What about Winterbourne?
What sort of chap is he?
Nobody really knows.
Goes about by himself
most of the time.
His own choice,
I think.
He's just one of these
solitary birds.
You read about this,
I suppose--
Winterbourne
divorce case.
"Actress
to contest suit."
Well, I gathered
it was on the way.
Chaps in the house
have been pretty
decent about it,
no ragging or gossip
that I have heard of,
and, uh, I've
had my spies out.
Boyer, you haven't got
an espionage network already?
Yes. Well, I hope
you're right.
We'll just have to try
and keep the newspapers
out of the school.
Well, I hope
that Winterbourne
is tougher than he looks.
Sir.
Ha!
I can see you got
a keen eye for a bargain,
Mr. Powlett-Jones.
Lovely little motor
is this here.
Ahh.
Do you have
any other sort?
Ah, no.
Now, you know
I wouldn't have you on.
This here motor is
a proper old steal.
There's no more than
Why don't you
try her out?
No. I'm--
I'm not seriously
interested.
I'm not
looking for a car,
much less a 3-wheeler.
No. I've got to get
a birthday present
for the wife
this morning.
Well, then
here her be.
Surprise the lady.
Get on.
You and the missis
need transport
out along,
don't you?
You're stuck fast
half the year round
up at Bamfylde.
Well, then here's
your own means
of popping it along
any time you likes--
shopping,
picture house,
whatever
takes your fancy.
How much you asking
for it, Mr. Lile?
£60 to you, sir,
and that's
a proper steal.
I'd ask 65 to anybody
who wasn't up at school.
Go on. Try her out.
There's petrol
in the tank.
No obligation.
Take her for a spin.
No. I, um--
No.
Well, you see, Beth, I was--
I was looking
at these watches, see, and I--
and I thought, well,
this will be far more use to you
than a watch.
I could teach you to drive
in a day or two,
and, why, then you'd be
a free woman.
Why, you could
pack in the twins,
and you could drive
to Challacombe
and do your shopping in style.
Uh, trips to the pictures,
uh, trips to the seaside,
whatever you fancy.
I should change down here
if I were you.
Where's down?
Watch the road.
I can't do
everything.
Well, how do you
think I did?
Oh, magnificently.
You took to it like
a duck to water.
Oh, my legs feel
quite weak.
Well, that's funny.
So do mine.
You weren't nervous,
were you?
No, of course not.
Compared to the Somme,
it was only slightly
more frightening.
Oooooh.
[Yawns]
Oh, God.
What's the matter?
The Winterbourne
case.
Bad?
Couldn't be worse.
"Nude bathing parties.
"Farmyard morals,
says judge.
"Judgment awarded
with 2,000 guineas
costs."
Oh, dear.
That poor boy.
Don't you think
we ought to talk to him?
I don't know.
I'm inclined
to say not.
Well, any mention
of it, however kind,
will be sure
to upset him,
and I made damn sure
that none
of the newspapers
have been available
in the school.
Well, with any luck, he
won't see them himself.
Well, what the hell
business is it
of anyone else's?
Oh, give them here,
you fool!
Here.
I'll brain you.
See if I don't.
You and
whose army?
Up here.
Oh, sorry, Spats.
CURTIS: Give him back his
trousers and stop assing about.
Been out
sketching, Spats?
Nope.
Oh.
[Knock on door]
Come in.
Mhh...
[Knock on door]
Mm! Wonder who's there.
Mhh. Go on.
What?
It's your turn.
Ohh...
Oh, all right.
[Knock on door]
Shh! It's all right.
It's all right.
I'm coming. I'm coming.
I'm coming.
What time is it?
Sorry to wake you up,
but I thought you should
know straightaway.
It's Winterbourne, sir.
He's gone.
Now what's all this?
Gone where?
I don't know, sir.
His bed hasn't been
slept in,
though it was
a bit rumpled.
I think he must have
gone down the fire escape
during the night.
Have you told
anyone else?
No, sir.
Everyone is asleep.
I was up early doing
an hour's cramming.
Do you think he's run off
to his father, sir?
Oh, sit down.
Now then,
let's think.
Well, we can
easily check that.
His father
is on the phone.
I suppose that's
the likeliest bet,
but he wouldn't be
able to get a train
to Taunton
on a Sunday night,
would he?
Well, there's the old
milk train, sir, the 3:30.
That gets
into Taunton by 5:00,
and then the fast
train to London...
I used it myself, sir,
in the bad old days.
You haven't checked
his locker, I suppose.
Yes, sir, I have.
He's taken
his gray trousers,
cricket sweater,
and stinkers.
He's left his two suits
and black shoes.
Boyer, nobody
goes to London
in a pair of plimsolls.
If I were
Winterbourne, sir,
I'd go on foot
to Crosshayes Halt.
Walrus Tapscott would
recognize you were at Bamfylde
and report you.
Ooh.
You're a damn sight
more awake
than I am
at the moment.
All right. Look.
Try and keep it
quiet if you can.
Winterbourne has gone on
an early training run.
That should do.
If you can trust
any of your spies,
see what you can
find out on the quiet.
I'll get
over to the head
and do some phoning.
Right you are, sir.
I heard all that.
Oh, I'm sure he won't
have gone far, Davy.
I don't know.
If he's gone down
to his father,
there's nothing
to worry about, is there?
Well, I'd better get
over there and check,
I suppose.
I'll have breakfast for you
by the time you get back.
You'll find Mr. Winterbourne's
number in my address book.
It's on
the writing table.
I'll heave my
husband out of bed
and get you
a big mug of tea.
of sugar, wasn't it?
What? Uh, oh, no.
Just two, please,
Mrs. Herries.
I'm sure everything
will be all right.
Come on. Come on.
MAN ON PHONE:
Number, please.
Oh, hello. I want
a London number, please.
MAYfair-6928.
MAYfair-6928.
Hold the line, please.
Oh, come on.
Get a move on.
DIFFERENT MAN:
MAYfair-6928.
Oh, hello.
Is that Mr.
Winterbourne's house?
Yes.
Could I speak
to him, please?
I'm afraid
it's inconvenient.
Could you call back?
Uh, no. I'm afraid
I must speak to him.
This is his son's
housemaster at Bamfylde,
and I'm afraid it's
extremely urgent.
One moment.
I'll get him.
There you are,
David.
Thanks very much.
THIRD MAN: Cheerio.
Oh, uh, hello.
Mr. Winterbourne?
Yes.
My name is Powlett-Jones,
Mr. Winterbourne.
I'm very sorry
to have to tell you,
but your son has
disappeared from school.
Who is this?
I'm his housemaster.
[Winterbourne
indistinct]
DAVID: Yes. What I
wanted to know was
whether by any chance
he'd come to you.
Well, he hasn't
shown up here.
Oh.
Run away, has he?
Uh, yes, we think so.
Have you any idea where
he might have gone?
Not really. I wasn't
expecting him here.
Oh, yes. I see. Thanks.
Have you any other
ideas, then?
Well, no.
[indistinct]
Yes. I know it's our
job, Mr. Winterbourne.
We're doing our best.
We just thought
that you could help--
Well, no.
I can't help you.
To be perfectly frank,
Mr. Winterbourne,
I get the impression
that your son
is very upset about
the divorce publicity.
Oh, yes.
Well, I daresay.
Yes. Well...
I still think that
he might come to you.
Will you phone us,
please, at once
if he does show up?
Why, yes, of course,
but he won't do.
Now look here,
Howlett--
Powlett-Jones.
P-O-W-L-E-double T-
hyphen-Jones.
I've got work to do.
Your job, as I understand,
is to look after my son.
Now, you keep me
informed, will you?
Yes, Mr. Winterbourne.
Nothing.
He's a cool customer.
Well, so would you be
if you had an income
of 20,000 a year.
I've never understood
why a chap like that
wants to send
his son here.
I'm beginning to understand
some of the boy's problems.
Well, that chap might
have been discussing,
well, a lost dog.
Spats Winterbourne
is a bit of
a lost dog.
So should I be
at his age
with that
family life,
but you know
what I think?
He wouldn't
have gone far.
He'd be somewhere
near the school.
Bamfylde has been
more of a home to him
than anywhere.
Then why should
he leave it?
Good point.
Oh, to think
things out,
let the dust settle.
But where does that
leave us?
With the "lost, stolen,
or strayed" drill.
Now you get hold of
Boyer and 4 or 5 chaps
and search
the immediate area.
I'll telephone
the railway stations.
Don't you think we
ought to get
all the prefects in?
I wouldn't if I were you.
Think of all
the kindly patronage
you'd get from
your colleagues.
No, David.
You take charge
of this yourself.
It's the sort of thing
I picked you for.
Anyone can be
a housemaster
when nothing goes wrong.
[Door opens]
BETH: Hello.
DAVID: Sit down.
Sit down.
Breakfast party.
Want a bacon sandwich?
No. I'm--
Yes, I do, a big one.
No luck
with the father.
Any trace, Boyer?
Uh, not exactly, sir.
I keep hoping he'd just
pop out of a cupboard
or something.
Is this one
of your spies?
Well, sir, we don't
know where he's gone,
but we do think
we know why he went.
CURTIS: I think it was
my fault, sir.
It was you that
had the fight
with Winterbourne,
wasn't it, Curtis?
That's right, sir.
Yes. Well,
I should forget it.
I don't think
that was it.
CURTIS: No, sir.
There's something else.
After the fight,
we sort of made it up,
and then my parents
came down on Sunday
and took me out to lunch
at Challacombe,
and I got
the newspaper there.
And you took it back and
showed it to Winterbourne?
Didn't you know we
canceled the papers
throughout the school?
He asked me, sir.
Honest.
He kept on at me.
He knew I'd been
to Challacombe,
and he said I must have
seen a paper, sir,
and I gave it to him.
How did he take it?
He was sick, sir.
You mean,
literally sick?
Yes, sir, behind
the band room, sir.
He made me promise
not to tell anyone.
I wouldn't have,
only Boyer made me.
Nobody else
knows, sir.
Right. Well,
that'll be it.
Yes, sir.
And don't tell
anyone else!
No, sir.
Look. No one is going
to blame you.
I don't see what else
you could have done.
Clear off now and don't
breathe a word to anyone.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
If anybody is to blame,
it's me.
Seems a damn fool idea
by hindsight.
What does?
Well, trying
to hush it all up.
Something like this
was bound to happen.
Ahem.
Have a cup of tea?
Thank you,
Mrs. Powlett-Jones.
Well, well.
Is this the headquarters?
Morning, Boyer.
Morning, sir.
How's that tortoise
of yours?
Still rather
phlegmatic, sir.
You mustn't
expect too much
joie de vivre[/]
from him these days.
You know, he's
getting on like me.
Mm. Do I smell bacon?
BETH: Mm. There's
a bacon sandwich for you,
if you want one.
Thank you, Beth.
This could be
a two-breakfast job.
Well, now, I've mapped out
the likely routes on here.
He didn't get the train
at Bamfylde halt here
and didn't get it
at Crosshayes.
So what do you think,
Mr. Powlett-Jones?
I think he's still
in the area.
ALGY: Yes. So doll.
Oh, thank you, Beth.
Oh, how delicious.
Have you fed Boyer,
by the way?
You're looking
a bit thin to me.
Oh, yes.
Thank you, sir.
Full as a g*n.
That's all right, then.
Well, David,
this is your show.
I'm at your service
for any help you may need.
Thank you.
Well, I'd like
you to drive
over to the Crosshayes
area, if you would,
and check out
all the farms.
Fine.
I'll do the same
as far as the barrows.
Boyer?
Yes, sir?
I want you to take
and I want you to cover
these routes here,
that way and that way.
Got it?
Yes, sir.
Ask anyone that
you see on the moor,
but make it casual.
We'll meet here
again at midday,
and we'll pool
what news we've got.
Right, sir.
I hope that's
all right with you.
Yes,
of course it is.
Oh, it's splendid
to be busy.
I haven't been in action
this early for years.
You don't think that
Winterbourne is likely to...
ALGY: What, do
something silly?
No, not a chance.
He's sensitive enough,
but he's not
the hysterical
type at all.
Oh, thank you, dear.
Oh, well. I'd better
get going, I suppose.
ALGY: David...
this has all happened
before, you know,
and it's all going
to happen again.
You eat
your sandwich.
Anything?
Not a whisper.
He's made
a thorough job of it.
He'll be out there
somewhere, though.
He'd be laughing
himself silly
if he could see us
buzzing round and round
like flies
in a bottle, eh?
See you later, David.
We'll have him
by lunchtime.
Mark my word.
It's a good sign, David.
If they're late, they
might have found something.
They might come back with
the missing man himself.
[Knock on door]
Hmm.
Any news?
Nothing.
Well, I expected this,
you know.
If I know
Spats Winterbourne,
he wouldn't want
to be dragged back
on his first morning
of freedom.
He'll have gone
further afield.
We'll have to widen
the radius, that's all.
What about
his father?
Wouldn't he want
the police called in?
I made a point of
phoning him at the office
before I came up here.
I told him we'd searched
a 5-mile radius
and we'd make it 12
before dark,
and I suggested
we contact the police.
Boyer, come and have a look
at the map, will you?
See if you can work out
a plan of campaign
for the rest
of the day, eh?
Yes, sir.
Atkinson, Saunders.
You know, that
fellow Winterbourne
is a damn codfish.
That's what comes of
making too much money.
The mere mention
of the word "police"
sent his blood
pressure soaring.
Well, I suppose police
means publicity,
and he's had
a bellyful of that.
Don't you think we ought
to call them in
off our own bat?
If we haven't found him
before nightfall,
but we will.
I'm sure of it.
Well, Colonel, what's
the plan of campaign?
Well, we'll have to call
the police in now,
publicity
or no publicity.
I daresay
we'll get a wigging
for not reporting him
missing earlier, huh?
Well, it won't
be the first time
I've had a wigging.
What'll you
tell them?
I'll say that even if
we'd reported him
missing this morning,
they wouldn't
have started
any serious search
until tomorrow.
They know that
as well as I do. Here.
You seem to take it
all so cheerfully.
It's the only way
to take it, old boy.
I feel as though
we ought to be
out there now
looking for him.
Yes. I know. I know,
but it wouldn't make
a scrap of difference.
What, Exmoor
on a cloudy night?
Brrr.
We just have to hope
he's tucked up
cozily somewhere.
But he might be lying
out there with a broken leg!
If he's lying out there
with a broken leg,
there's nothing
we can do about it.
You've done
all you can, David,
and so have I.
Think I'm
not worried, too?
I'm just as concerned
as you are,
but we're not
going to be any help
to Winterbourne
or ourselves
if we start
going to pieces.
Now, you've handled
the whole thing
very well so far, David.
I should've talked
to him about it.
I could've done
so easily.
Mm, what
might have been.
I doubt if it
would've made
a jot of
difference then.
I just have this feeling
that something terrible
is gonna happen,
and, well, I'm
partly to blame.
Now listen to me.
I have my intuitions,
too, you know.
As to Winterbourne,
well, I'm just annoyed
we've got
to report a failure
to that beastly
father of his,
and of course I'm sorry
for the little toad
himself,
but my intuition
is that he's all right.
We're going to find him
safe and sound.
I hope you're right.
Come on, David.
You get home
and get
a good night's sleep.
You're not going to be any
help to me or Winterbourne
if you go on shredding
your nerves like this.
Now--Oh.
Hold on a minute.
This is what you want--
Algy's nerve tonic, hmm?
Here you are,
and this is the dose--
two large ones for you,
one large one
for Beth,
and then
straight to bed.
Never fails, old boy.
BETH: Well, that was
nice of him, wasn't it?
Oh, do cheer up, Davy.
He could tell
I was cracking up, see?
He didn't say so
in so many words,
but that's what
he was thinking.
That's nonsense.
You know he thinks
the world of you.
He's had to take over
for me, though, hasn't he?
He knew I couldn't
cope with it.
Well, Davy,
it's his school.
The boys are
his responsibility.
It's my house,
though, isn't it?
g*dd*mn that woman!
I could strangle her
with one of her own
silk stockings.
I'm sure she'd have
postponed her divorce
if she'd known you
were the housemaster.
Oh, come on.
Joke?
It's only the truth.
No. If it hadn't
have been this,
it'd have been something
else, though, wouldn't it?
Oh, well, it didn't take
long to find me out, did it?
I could see Algy
sitting there thinking,
"Oh, well,
I slipped up here.
I've got myself
a dud housemaster."
Davy...
you've done absolutely
everything you could.
There really isn't
anything else, is there?
Any of the others
could have coped with it--
Howarth, Carter.
They'd have taken it
in their stride.
Oh, yes. I can
just see Carter.
He'd have taken
the whole cadet corps
out onto the moor and
marched them into a bog.
[David sighs]
You know what it is,
I suppose?
After all these years,
l--
I still don't feel
as though I belong here.
It's still like
a foreign country...
and so I have to watch
every step,
make sure everything
is absolutely right
because there's no
concessions for outsiders.
And then one day,
they'll just turn around
and say, "Sorry,
Powlett-Jones. That's it.
"You tried hard,
but it just won't wash.
Not on, wrong type,
sling your hook."
Davy...
if anyone belongs here,
it's you.
Anyone can see that.
Do you really
mean that?
Ohh...
Beth, you must be
sick of this.
I'm sorry. I really will
try and shut up soon.
No. I quite like you
like this.
Do you remember how shy
you were when we first met?
[Chuckles]
Hopeless. Doesn't bear
thinking about.
Oh, yes, it does.
You were lovely...
and, you know, these
last couple of years,
what with everything
going so well--
you getting your degree
and working
on your book,
marching
around the school
and impressing everyone
with your efficiency--
well, it isn't
that I felt neglected
or taken for granted
or anything like that.
Well...
I did just wonder
once or twice
whether you needed me
as much as I need you.
Ohh...
Well, now you know.
Come on.
The best ever.
Oh, you.
You always say that.
Well, it's always true,
give or take
the occasional
off night.
Oh.
Mmm.
If a fairy came
to Bamfylde
and said, "You have
one wish, Beth,"
I'd say, "I'd like to be
in bed with this man,
"David Powlett-Jones,
"just after making love
and just before
going to sleep."
So there.
Mmm. Good night.
Now come on, Joan.
Any news?
No, not yet.
It's too early yet.
The police went out
half an hour ago.
They sounded
pretty hopeful, though.
You're going to be late,
aren't you?
Oh, don't I know it.
Oh, Joan, please keep
still for a moment.
Well, don't try
to help me.
Oh, come on, Gracie.
Come on.
Got to make you look pretty
for the photographs.
Are you sure
you don't
need the car
this morning?
Oh, absolutely.
The police can
take over from now on.
Algy said something
about combing
the southeastern region.
I'm to stay here
and hold the fort.
Inspector Chawleigh
is sending a chap over
this afternoon
to take statements.
They can't do anything without
putting it down on paper,
and I'm to do it.
I can just imagine
Winterbourne
sitting by some
little stream
cooking up
his breakfast.
Do you know--this morning,
socanl.
You're all right now,
aren't you?
Yes, I am. Look, Beth.
I'm sorry about last night.
Oh, don't be a fool.
Gracie, your daddy
is a fool.
Did you know that?
Oh, gosh.
Oh, look.
Never mind all that.
I'll clear it up
later on.
You haven't got a class
this morning?
Well, I've got
the Upper Fifth at 10:00,
but Algy has got me
out of the rest.
I'm to make myself
available to the police.
Ready?
Yeah.
Come on, then.
I'll see you down.
Come on, then, you.
Oh, don't cry.
There you go,
sweetheart.
You just sit there.
All right.
All right, is it?
There.
Good luck with
the photographs.
It should only take
about an hour,
I should think.
Look. If you really
don't need the car,
why don't I drive
across the moor?
I could do a bit of
Winterbourne spotting
while I'm at it.
Why not?
I'll be tied up
here all morning.
All right. Let's--
Yes!
[Engine starts]
Great.
[Engine revving]
[Gear grinds]
[Whistling]
Runner! Runner!
[Knock on door]
Morning, sir.
Ah, Boyer. Good morning.
I was just about to send
a runner for you. Look.
You remember you said
you had a look in
Spats Winterbourne's locker,
and his two suits
were still there?
Yes. That's right.
Well, what else was there?
Do you remember?
A whole lot of stuff.
I didn't really like
to rummage through it.
I just wanted to see
what clothes he'd taken.
Yes, but what sort
of stuff?
Well, the usual stuff--
books, games, equipment,
a lot of
artist's stuff.
That's it. Now, that's
what I remembered.
Now, Winterbourne goes off
on his own sketching,
doesn't he?
I think he does, sir.
Well, there
you are, then!
Don't look at me
like that, Boyer.
I haven't gone crazy.
Hold that for a moment.
Where's that map
of the head's?
I knew I had it
here somewhere.
Great.
Right. Come on.
Let's go and have
another look
at Spats Winterbourne's
locker.
Come on!
Let's get a move on!
BOYER: I'm sorry, sir.
I still don't quite see
what you're looking for.
I think it may
be this, Boyer.
Yes, it is.
Here. Help me
sort them out, would you?
I say, sir.
These are really
quite good.
Look, sir.
That's Titterton
and Mr. Cordwainer.
I mean, he's
a funny chap.
He never
showed them round.
Must have done them
for his own amusement.
Yes. These are the ones
we're interested in, though.
Oh, that's the folly
and the school
from the folly.
What's that one, sir?
That's from the same place
looking towards the woods.
Damn! That's not
getting us very far.
Oh. What about these?
Well, there's
nowhere like that
around here, sir.
Perhaps he made it up.
Hmm. No.
I don't think so.
That's moorland, and I've
seen those rocks somewhere.
Where was it?
"Chetsford Tor,"
by E.W. Winterbourne."
Yes, of course!
Where's the map?
Chetsford Tor...
Chetsford Tor...
Yes. Look. You see?
It's nearly
No wonder we couldn't
find him yesterday.
He's got longer legs
than we bargained for.
Do you really think
he's there, sir?
Well, it's
a good bet, isn't it?
BETH: 9 green bottles
Hanging on the wall
Hanging on the wall
And if one green bottle
Should accidentally fall...
Will she get up the hill?
Will she get up the hill?
Ee-aye-a-dee-oh
Of course,
she'll get up the hill...
Or he could have
followed the road
for a mile or so, sir.
Look. It's a shortcut.
No, not if you know that
stretch of road, it isn't.
It looks like a shortcut,
but that's a 1 in 5 hill.
[Gear grinds]
Hanging on the wall
And if one green bottle
Should accidentally fall
Oh!
Then there'd be
Hanging on the wall...
[Gear grinds]
And if one green bottle...
That's it. We've got him.
[Gear grinding]
[Tires screeching]
[Crash]
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01x05 - Episode 5
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David Powlett-Jones, a coal miner's son from South Wales, has risen from the ranks and been commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the First World w*r.
David Powlett-Jones, a coal miner's son from South Wales, has risen from the ranks and been commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the First World w*r.