01x01 - Episode 1

[bunniefuu]

♪ Queen for a day

♪ Queen for a night

♪ Dressed head to toe

♪ So you'd never know

♪ It's me

♪ It's me

♪ Ribbons and lace

♪ Shoes made of glass

♪ Rouge on my face… ♪

How are those helicopter lessons

coming along, Stephen?

I might set up a few for myself.

Mrs Harte, I need two minutes
of your time.

One will be more than ample,
Mr Fairley.

I've come with a warning.

Theatrical!

Mrs Harte, I'm assuming
you haven't seen the news?

About the crash
in Harte's share prices.

And about the leak.

A source from inside your company

has intimated to the press
that you're…

… fragile.

Losing control.

They've provided them with
your confidential medical records.

… whole lot of casserole…

… and with Harte stocks
already 12% down on the LSE,

things are looking bleak
for the world's richest woman,

Emma Harte, whose retail
empire is reeling today

from revelations
about her health status.

Stephen?
—Yes, Mrs Harte?

I'm going to walk.
—Uh, ma'am?

Mrs Harte, this isn't
an easy thing to broach,

but I believe…

Thanks.

Mrs Harte!

I hope my warning you
proves I can be trusted.

Hello!
—Mrs Harte.

Morning, Ted.

Hello?

Happy anniversary, Bernie.

It sure rolls round.

Perfumes, ground floor.

Jewellery, floor three.

Otherwise, dog houses,
floor six.

My regards to Cheryl.
—Thank you.

Please.
I know this must be a shock.

A friend of yours, Mrs Harte?

Hardly.

Mrs Harte, please let me help.

I know how hard you've worked
for all this.

Now the papers are saying
you're finished.

Mrs Harte…

God, Grandy, we tried
to get a message to you.

What do we know?
—Are you all right?

Those hospital records
they have, are they…?

A complete fabrication!

Where's it come from, this leak?

We've no idea
but it's rather detailed,

I'm afraid. It appears
one of the board…

We need to control the narrative
with press releases.

A full—page spread
in every outlet you own.

Oh, and a double
in those I don't.

Accountants?

Henry's in Aspen, Mrs Harte,
at his daughter's wedding.

And shares are down 14% now.

Jerry.

I took the stairs.

Oh!

One unwelcome appearance
of a morning

might be considered
an intrusion.

Two verges on trespass.

Jerry, send in security.
There's a wasp at the picnic.

Mrs Harte,
I'm trying to earn your trust

and I hope perhaps this endless feud.

Oh, I wouldn't call it a feud.

What would you call it, then?

Well, I don't get involved
in semantics. Um… a w*r?

It's vital to me you realise

I am better
than the rest of my family.

Well, that's an exceptionally
unambitious claim.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have a mole to unearth.

But it's not just some
anonymous board member.

Mrs Harte, I know who it is.

It's your children.

If you think for one moment

that I'd trust you, Mr Fairley…

I know you have
dedicated your entire life

to the hatred of my family.

Oh, no, you're quite wrong,
Mr Fairley.

Hatred happens in secret,

with neither purpose
nor aspiration.

No, what I've dedicated my life to…

… is revenge.

I'm looking for Fairley Hall.

Sorry to startle you.

I'm, uh,
repairing their chimneys.

Shane O'Neill's the name.

But the whole world calls me Mac.

If you can keep up,
you can follow.

Me mam calls it
the top of the world.

Keep up!

Well… I think that'd do me.

What do you reckon?

Ever smelt a rose
that had a wasp in it?

Edwin.
—Emma.

I thought you didn't graduate
till summer.

Any excuse to come home.

Well, you'll have
missed your family.

Have you met my family?

Father's hosting a weekend
of some dignitary or other.

Supposed to impress them.

Well, good luck
being impressive.

Emma…

Faster than you look.

For the chimneys.
Shane O'Neill,

but the whole world
calls him Mac.

This is Edwin. Master Edwin.

Emma Harte!

Sir.

Right.
Pay attention, you lot.

Mary — beds, baths, bedpans.

Polly — in with the mistress,
as usual.

Finally!

Emma — silverware,
grates, glassware,

all stairs and floors.
And on time in future!

Ahhh!

Perhaps you'd like
to treat yourself

to some toast with that jam.

Moderation in all things.

Except preserves?

Did your father tell you

how cleverly he ironed out
his issue with that foreman?

Yes. All shipshape at the mill,
largely thanks to you.

Well, if Sir Vikram
is impressed with you,

it will all have been worthwhile.

Edwin, did I tell you?
The Chandras,

Sir Vikram
and his daughter Priya

are coming to us straight from
his trading meetings

at Downing Street.

You did say, yes.

Gosh!

We must do our very best
to get the Chandras on side.

Let's see if we can't do our bit

for Anglo—Indian relations.
Hmm?

Well, Edwin
never lets anyone down.

Emma.

What are you doing?

That kiss. The morning I left.
In the stable.

We mustn't.
We never should have.

I know.
We've resisted for so long.

But your lips,
the taste of your mouth,

it's all I can think about.

We can't!
If they catch us…

I don't care. Do you?

Yes!
You don't have a job to lose!

Emma, this isn't some whim.

This is you and me,

running, laughing,

telling each other everything.

But it's different now, ain't it?

Since that kiss, it's changed.

And how can it not be better?

I know you, Emma.

I know you feel it, too.

I can't.

I don't…

I do, I do. Of course I do,
but I mustn't. I mustn't.

Summat on your mind?

Someone.
—Mum!

I know those mill boys
finish early on a Saturday,

but you stay focused,
do you hear?

Did you get your extra
darning money?

I have.

Keep climbing, Emma.

You're talented,
with your dressmaking.

You've an eye.

I've got two.

And if you're smart,
which I know you are,

you can get out of Fairley.

Don't be like me, you hear?

Remember your plan,
with a capital P.

Get out and get on.

The rest of us were born
in Fairley,

we'll die here.

But you won't get trapped.

Remember, without money,
you're vulnerable.

So stay focused.

And if a chance comes,
you grab it.

You hear me?

My queen!

So don't get distracted.

Don't take your eye
off the board.

Keep thinking ahead.
Three moves at least.

We'll finish tomorrow, shall we?

Aye, love.

She's tired again.
I were thinking,

might we find money
to at least talk to a doctor?

We won't afford medicine…

Your mum all right?

She's fine.

Shh. You sleep.

Aye. Well,
that's football for you, son.

Tell you now, I don't know
how Bradford think

they got a cat in hell's chance
against Newcastle

after that show at Blackburn.

Oh, Blackburn? Yeah,
they were dreadful results.

Dreadful.

Mam's not burning up
as much as last night.

No?

She's a fighter,
your mam, she fights.

Like me. I can fight.
Can't I, Dad?

Aye. Look at him here.
Heavyweight. Aren't you, son?

Go on, get him in the belly!

Come on, big man.
—Let's see what you got, son.

Your dad's getting old.

Small but powerful.
Look at that.

Frank.
—What? Hey!

He's had a slice already!

Have a good day, Dad.

Toerags. Bloody 'ell.

Small but greedy, more like.

He just talks so nice.
—Careful!

If they catch you…
—I can look after myself.

Polly?

Well, look at that.

My husband,
finally come to see me.

I had time to k*ll.

Flatterer.

I like your shirt.

It's ancient.

Well, a bit like me, then.

Huh.

Perhaps that's why I like it.

How do I seem to you, Adam?

I hate not to live up
to your expectations.

Every man has the right to
expect his mad wife in the attic

to behave appropriately.

I shouldn't have come.

But you wanted to come.

Oh!

I'm always here, Squire Fairley.

I watch you from the window,

wondering if you'll come

when you're riding your horses,

holding on tight.
—No…

Ah!

Throw me.

Where is Polly?

Running an errand
for Master Gerald.

I feel for her.

Never ends well
when worlds collide.

Mrs Fairley's waiting!

Polly's on an errand.

She does realise
she's the lady's maid?

She's got responsibilities.

I'll take it.

You're not Polly.

I'm Emma, Mrs Fairley.
Emma Harte.

Well, Emma Harte,
my husband is leaving.

But don't worry,
he always comes back again.

We're busy downstairs.
There's a party this weekend.

I like parties.

Yes, but my mad wife
never dares leave her room.

How many years, Adele,

since you've
set foot downstairs?

It's not a big event.

It's only family
and a few locals.

Are you trying to remove me
from this family?

Oh, you removed yourself
from this family

a long time ago.

Olivia will be there.

A wife's sister

isn't a substitute for a wife,
Adam!

I only mean
that she knows the business.

And I think
it would be safer…

I can be safe.

I can be charming.

Don't you think, Adam?

Fine.

Is today the day, Adele?

Can you find the courage?

Come downstairs.

What you need to understand
is we worked damn hard

on this Chandra deal.
— "We"?

A lot of clever people, Adele.

Every one of whom is sober
and fully dressed.

Why don't you sit down,
Mrs Fairley? Sit down.

And just breathe.

Slowly. Breathe.

I was just watering.

The plants, obviously.

Have you seen Adele?

How is she?

Much the same.

Lost.

Do you ever get frightened?

Yes, of course, you're a woman.

Men get frightened, too.

Oh, men are only frightened
of boredom and dying.

Neither of those worry me.

What is it, then, Mrs Fairley?

What scares you?

I'm frightened of disappearing.

Of being forgotten.

Most people just assume
you're nobody

and then dismiss you.
Do you know that?

Yes, I do.

Every morning I get dressed

and I do my hair

and have every intention
of going down to breakfast.

Or to some fabulous party,
like when I was a girl.

And some days

I try so hard to leave the room.

But it all feels too much.

So I have to find other ways
to get Adam's attention.

Meanwhile, my sister
swans around downstairs

doing everything I should do.

She seems
to find the world easy.

But you're the lady
of the house, Mrs Fairley.

You've such lovely things.

Oh!
—Your clothes.

I have marvellous clothes.

And you've got your husband
and your sons.

My babies.

Well, your sister's
got none of those.

So I expect she might be
frightened of you.

Emma, is it?

Ahem!

Are you a bush?

Well spotted.

Lonely business
being a master of disguise.

How's your plan, Emma?
Still coming on?

Of course.
I'm doing my mending.

If I can make my wages up
by four shillings a week,

I might be able to get to Leeds.

Emma!

Emma Harte!

You've a visitor.

Dad says you're to come home.

Emma, no. No.

Emma, don't wait for me.
I'll just slow you down.

Don't be daft.
We have to both go.

Honest. I've said goodbye.
You go.

Please, please go!

I'm sorry.

I love you.

Go. Go!

I'm coming, Mam! I'm coming!

I've got him, Emma.
I've got him. You go.

Look at me.

She's nowt left, love.

Mam! It's me, it's Emma.

I waited for you.

I'm scared.

Get out…

And get on, Emma.

You hear me?

Promise me.

Promise.

And my baby? Is he here?

I'm here.

Now, where's your dad?

I'm here, love.

I'm here.

It's time.

Dad!

Dad! What's he doing?

I don't know.

I've got you now, love.

Dad?
—Oh, no.

What are you doing?

Dad!

Dad!

Mum! Mummy!

Where are you taking her?!

The top of the world.

Nearly there now, beautiful.

No, no. No, no, no, no, no.

Dad!

Not yet. No, no.

Dad!

We're going t'top of t'world.
It's where we gotta be.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.
I really tried for you.

You rest now.

Oh, you're here, are you?
About time.

No time for moping, Emma Harte.

You missed half a day yesterday.

And we have a party tomorrow.

It's a lovely morning out there,

so no need for these,
I don't think.

You made any progress
with your book?

Would you like me
to read to you again?

I wouldn't like.

No. Not at all.

Right.

I heard there was to be a party.

Oh. Sir Vikram.

He's terribly important,

so I suspect desperately boring.

Well…

… thank you for stepping in.

Well, no, it's not a question
of stepping in. I'm…

You know, just while I'm here,
for your sake…

… I may as well,
every now and again,

run my eyes over
Adam's business papers.

What else
do you run your eye over?

Adele.

Olivia, why would any man
ever be beguiled by beige

when he has every colour
of the rainbow upstairs?

You need a rest, I expect.

Then perhaps tomorrow
I could…

Will you read to me?
How wonderful!

You know, you would have made
a charming mother, Olivia.

Emma.

I was, um…

I heard about your mother.

I've been thinking, sir.

Might I be considered
to look after Mrs…

Might you be considered to what?

I believe, Squire Fairley,

that it's important
to take your chances in life,

and I reckon
I understand the mistress.

So I were wondering
if I might look after her

from now on,
as her personal maid?

I think if you asked the mistress,
she'd like that, too.

I were thinking
four shillings more a week.

Hmm.

When you know loss, Emma,

it can suddenly feel like
it's all you know.

But you know a whole lot.

So that's what you hold on to,
do you hear?

Cos you're hungry.

Isn't that right?

And when you've known hunger,
well, sure,

you stay hungry.

Emma Harte!

What have you been saying
to the master?

From now on,

he says it's your job
to take the mistress's tray.

Well, I don't know why
you're standing still

when the mistress
is upstairs waiting!

Emma?

I finally feel like
I'm being taken care of.

So much for friends!

I'm sorry,
I have a family to look after.

I know what Mrs Fairley likes.

But it's about what she needs.

And when she needed you,
you were with the master.

Oh, well, isn't she lucky

having you to show her
just how life's done?

Blame me if you like, Pol.
Easier if you do, I'm sure,

but I know you're really
disappointed in yourself.

Stay there.

Come back here, you little rat!

You'll never be a lady,
Emma Harte!

Your dad's a layabout!
And your mam?

Your mam spent her whole life

trying to be better than us too,

then proved she weren't, after all

by dying of being poor!

Oi! Oi!

Enough! Enough!

That's enough!

Absolute disgrace!
The pair of you!

Come here.
What have you got to say? Eh?

She attacked me.
She started it!

Fetch your things.

Go on.
—No! No!

Gerald!

Gerald, I was running errands
for you, wasn't I?

Tell him!

I don't know
what you're talking about.

Good decision, Murgatroyd.

We have dogs
to do our attacking.

Mothers come and go.

That is how life works,
Emma Harte.

And jobs are the same
if you're not careful.

We always used to
look out for each other.

Now we're fighting like animals.

This place is wicked.

All the mountains of food
going to waste!

And your mother
talking about dreams!

Do you know
what my dad dreams of?

Survival!

That me mam might have…

She should have lived!

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry about your mother.

When I grow up,
I won't ever be poor.

I won't ever want for anything,

like my mam did
every last second of her life.

None of my family will,

I promise you that!
I promise you!

Emma, you've got me.
—My world's not yours!

My father breaks his back
hauling bricks

while your father
sits ordering lunch

while his workers half starve.

Your family will want you
to marry some rich girl

so that when
you're a fancy lawyer,

she'll fit right in!

Emma, listen to me.

You're talking about
other people,

not the two of us.

You and I are just the same.

Only one of us
is covered in egg.

What's all this, Frank?

Hey?

I bumped me head.

And Mam always used to
kiss it better.

But also…

… why do I keep
bloody bumping it?

Cos you're a hooligan.

And foul—mouthed too.

Come on, don't cry until
the bloody washing up's done.

This party today,

I should go, shouldn't I?

I must, but… will I survive?

When I'm drinking,
I might do anything.

Which is, of course,
the curse and the bliss of it.

There's your answer.
No drinking.

Let's get you dressed for now,
Mrs Fairley,

then see what comes next.

Is it beautiful enough,
do you think?

If I just take these roses off…

No!

You'll ruin it.

It'll be drab, won't it?

It won't, Mrs Fairley.
It'll be elegant.

I can change the neckline,
these sleeves,

maybe even a slit in the skirt.
Trust me.

I remember having your skin.

Just keep breathing,
Mrs Fairley.

And when you're nervous,

put your hand on your heart

and check it's still there.

You'll go downstairs
and look kindly at your sister.

You'll tell your stories

and let the whole room
admire you.

You can do it, Mrs Fairley.
Course you can.

I'm sorry. May I?

You've been very quiet.

Are you nervous about the party?

Oh, no, I'm fine.

It's stupid.

Tell me.

I know I'm only here
to fill in for my sister.

I'm only playing the part of…

But some days it feels real.
It does.

It feels real to me, too,
sometimes.

I barely used to eat
in the morning, you know.

There was no—one
to share things with.

I had no conversation,
no partner.

And now it's…

… you.

Uh… sorry, I should, uh…

See, the trick here is to
not let any of the ringleaders

on the mill floor
think they have the upper hand,

although,
in the case of the girl

that had the accident,
it's the only hand she's got.

What about you, Edwin?

Any thoughts
on keeping workers in check?

Truthfully, sir, I'm not sure
it's up to us to actually…

I'm afraid we have
an idealist on our hands,

Sir Vikram.

But… he's a bright lad.

Well, Edwin,
if you are a free thinker,

you sound the same as Priya.
Isn't that right, Priya?

Depends on how free he is,
and…

… what he thinks about.

It goes without saying,
doesn't it, Adam,

that anyone who invests
in our mill will benefit

from the unprecedented
profit margins

that we mentioned earlier.

You must be a busy man,
Squire Fairley.

A sister—in—law never off duty,

and, I hear, a wife upstairs.

Yes, uh…

My wife sends her apologies.
She's…

… unwell.

A party?

For little old me?

Mother.

Oh, Olivia, you look charming.

Adele, how wonderful
to see you up and about.

Oh, goodness, darling!

What a dress! You're a picture.

Sir Vikram,

this is my wife.

We are the same, Emma.

We're just the same.

Though, admittedly, right now
I feel a bit sillier than you.

It's much sharper, in fact,
than I… The shell is on.

You're supposed to be
impressing them inside.

There'll be a row.

I don't care about any of them.

It is wicked here,
you're quite right.

It's unbearable.

So let's neither of us bear it.

Come on…

Emma!

Come on.

You're beautiful.

You're beautiful.
And covered in egg.

Oh…

You're getting it everywhere.

There'll be such a row
if I'm not back.

Do you want to go back?

You're all wet. You not cold?

Oh…

What is it?

Rings.

Whose are they?

I'd never hurt you, Emma.

But we mustn't.

I love you, Emma Harte.

I'll love you my whole life.

Oh, yes, Mr Fairley.

After everything
your family did to me…

… I've dedicated my entire life

to revenge.

There must be some boy

that you want to make
positively feral, is there?

Don't you go making that mistake

of thinking we're all the same.

Betrayal is in his blood.

And betrayal
can creep up on you.

Want to take advantage of me,
do you?

I'm going to get fired.
—Who do you think you are?

No!