01x04 - Episode 4

[bunniefuu]

The Countess is here
to see you, Mrs Harte.

Mummy!

What a dreadful week for you.
I just can't bear it.

I said to the florist,
"Your absolute best bouquet,"

"though no roses,"

and the girl knew immediately
they must be for you.

How about that?

Oh, those wretched papers.

I was so pleased
when you suggested lunch.

Are you surviving?

When have you known me not to?

Hello, darling.

I booked Patsy's for 1.30.
Will that do?

Janet swears she saw Sinatra
there only last Tuesday.

Mummy's favourite thing to say

is that she's done it all
for her family,

which is ludicrous, of course,

for a woman who's spent
every moment of her adult life

avoiding her family
and making grand speeches

about bloody revenge.

She's pathetic.

There's a downside, of course,

to making certain one's children

never want for anything at all...

and that's being forced to
watch them stroll through life,

taking everything in their path
for granted.

Mummy, I'm so sorry. I…

What would you like to explain
first, my love?

Your detailed expose to the press

of my confidential
medical records,

or your use to Mr Fairley
of the word "harridan".

I can explain.

Well, I'd love to hear it, darling.

Truly.

I'd love to understand,

because everything I've ever
done has been for my family.

Time sheets, Mr Fairley.
—Thanks.

Is all… well… at home?

What about it?

I know some of the staff
at the hall were wondering if

Emma might have been
in touch with any news…

… around now.

It's been months
since we saw her.

It's been six… six months.

Six and a half.

She sends money every month.

Postmark Leeds.

She's got a good head on
her shoulders, Mr Fairley.

She gets on wi' it.

No address, no news.

Don't want us to worry.

Anyway, I'm told
congratulations are in order

for your engagement.

I've a late shift to keep awake.

Now, Mrs Fairweather.

I've been up all night
finishing this dress just for you.

So I believe this will be
exactly what you're after.

Where do you find the time,
Mrs Harte? In your condition?

There's a name for Mrs Harte's
condition — tireless.

Fact is, Mrs Harte,
I'm also in the family way.

Congratulations,
Mrs Fairweather.

Perhaps I could make you
a skirt like mine

with the drawstring waist.
See?

Wraps around my front, like so.

Come and see me
and I'll get you measured up.

See you soon.

I've never had a shop assistant
bring as much custom as you.

It's all adding up.

Three—quarters for you,
Mr Lowther.

And a quarter for…

Your plan. With a capital P.

A capital B, for baby.

I'm saving.

Well, you're not saving energy.

I'll sit down
when the baby's born.

That's how it works
when you're a mother, isn't it?

You do nothing but rest.

Well, I'm not sure
that is how it works.

Mrs Barlow!
I was hoping you'd be in.

You're going to love this.

Oh…

Thank God.

All safe and sound in there.

I'm gonna keep you that way.

No!

All right in there?
Are you having a little play?

Whoa!

Here you are, sir.
—I won't be long.

Not slacking off, I hope,
Mrs Harte.

Lunch. Don't worry, though.
I've not stopped working.

Heaven forbid.

Closing for the day already?
She's never open.

I think you'll be very pleased

with what I've got for you
today.

Oh! The new silks!
They're perfect.

And to you,
only three and six a yard.

Shame I'm only paying you
two and six, then.

Three… shillings.
—Two and nine.

Oh, you're a tyrant.

Are those pin marks
on those fingers?

Mrs Harte, how long have you
been working for Joe Lowther?

Six months, is it?
And every minute of that,

you've worked like a dog.

People love to tell me
to slow down,

but babies don't write ahead
and make appointments.

And I am running out of time.

The money's not coming in
quick enough.

Does your husband
mind you working so hard?

He's working too, I've told you.
The Navy can't spare him.

Well, he's missing out,
is all I'd say.

I expect you'll miss him too,
being away from home.

I miss me dad and me brother.

No time to miss anyone else.

Anyway, I'm saving up,

so when the baby's born,
I can have two months off.

Maybe even three, if I work
hard in these last few weeks.

It's looking like
another record—breaking day.

Teamwork, Mr Lowther.
—Ha. I don't think so.

When I watch you selling,

you don't have a mind
like a woman's at all.

Yours is more like a man's.

Is there a difference?

You're living here now, are you?

I've got work to do.

Is this the new cloth?
Looks pricey.

It was supposed to be!

It's to replace
the Fairley stuff, Mr Lowther.

The fact is,
customers can spot it.

Cloth from the Fairley mill's
just bad quality...

rotten, some might say.

We've lost another cloth order.

More complaints
about the quality.

A lot of that equipment
is old and tired,

and we can't keep asking the
men to work round the clock.

Your usual gripe is, we don't
pay the plebs enough money.

Now we're offering
night—time hours,

suddenly they have to be home
for their tea.

They're not plebs.

They're people…

… who have rights and feelings.

Hmph!

Oh, Priya.

You're back.

Sorry. Long day.

Oh, you must be tired.

Edwin, Priya and I were hoping
that tomorrow

we might get down to
the real business of the week.

Wedding planning.

We should talk about churches,
certainly, at some stage.

I was hoping we might decide
on a date,

at least, while I'm here.

Because your father's
a busy man.

Sir Vikram needs to make plans.

So, we must get
every wedding detail fixed,

mustn't we, Edwin?

He's preoccupied at work.
—Mm. Good old Edwin,

doing all he can
to save the business.

Who the hell
do you think you are?

You should be ashamed
of yourself.

You don't just stroll in here

when for months
you ain't come near her.

Well, sure, I'm here now when
I… can see she's been busy.

Oh!

Mavourneen, what the hell
have you been playing at?

Mr Harte, you should know
that your wife

has been working tirelessly
every minute.

In the absence of anyone else
bothering to…

Mr Kallinski, David,
this is not my husband.

This is just a friend,

a dear friend. Mac.

He barely knows my husband.

You'd be surprised
by how little.

But I had no idea.

I'll see you at closing time.
After.

See you soon.

Adele… I brought you these.

I was looking for a vase
like Mother's, you know,

that allowed the flowers
to splay out, but…

Do you remember? She always had
such a way with flowers.

Edwin rushed off early again.

But work never stops
at the mill.

Not these days.

I mean, Adam's barely home.

I mean, I hardly ever see him.
He's barely here.

Do you need more hot water,
darling?

Or anything, you know?
Anything to eat?

Darling…

I wonder if maybe
you ought to get out.

Do you think?

Just get away from this place.

I was wondering about Aunt
Jessie's cottage by the sea.

Would you like that?

Remember that little beach
down below, and the gulls?

And she'd love to have you.
I know she would.

And you may just find that…

Adele?

Adele.

Adele, please. Stop…

Are those lily of the valley?

Yes.

Glorious, aren't they?

There's hundreds of them
out there.

They do that.

They're invasive.

If left unchecked…

… lily of the valley
will simply take over

the whole garden.

You can't get rid of them.

Well, I'll find that vase.

Oh, sorry. We're… closed.

Your guard dog not with you, no?

Mr Kallinski just does
the deliveries.

He's only being kind.
—Oh, kind, is he?

As well as handsome?

It's like you were born
to work here.

Emma Harte, are you going
to avoid looking at me

for the whole rest of your life?

What's going on, darlin'?

Here.

Dad doesn't know I'm here.

And he mustn't.

I can't take trouble
to his door.

Not after Mam.

I haven't seen him.

I haven't seen him or Frank.

How can I afford to bring up
this baby by myself?

Darlin'…

How the hell have you got
yourself in this auld mess?

It was a lad back home.

You don't know him.

He let me down.

Then I'll thrash the living
daylights out of him.

No need.

He said he'd marry me at first,
then ran away to join the Navy.

And this?

So nobody thinks bad of me.

Also, cos I like remembering.
—Remembering him?

Remembering I won't ever again

let someone make me feel
the way he did.

Not till the day I die.

And remembering
what drives me now.

What'll drive me my whole life.

Revenge.

Emma, how are you gonna look
after the baby and work?

I'm making dresses.

And I'm good. I am.

I get such a thrill
seeing the money pile up.

And I've saved up
for two months,

which means when the baby's
born, I can stop a while.

Did you drop something?

You know I'll marry you,
Emma Harte.

And happily.

It'd be an honour.

Emma, will you marry me?

You're the best man I know.

Sure, to marry you
will be a privilege.

Burden, more like.

Have you seen these shoulders?

I could look after
the both of you.

I know.

I know you would.

But I've got it planned.

I'm going to look after us myself.

Somehow.

I'm going to be a mother, Mac,
a mam.

I'm going to have a real baby.

The most precious thing
you can have.

And more than anything
I've ever done,

I want to take care of it.

Well, I could have
at least an eye…

Mac…

You have the biggest heart
I know.

It's bursting.

Which is why I want you
to be able to give that heart

to someone you love, for real,

not just a girl
you feel sorry for.

Ah, Emma, but…
—The answer's no.

But it's a no with the biggest
thank you in the world.

You might wanna…

Get under that seat
with the sweeping brush.

The… dust is shocking.

Morning!

Let me rent next door.

Let me rent it from you
and open a dress shop.

My own shop, filled
with dresses made by me.

Give me one reason why not.

Oh, you only want one?

Well, which reason do you want?

That you've no experience
running a shop?

That you've no experience
running a business of any kind?

That you're barely 19?
That you're pregnant.

Mr Lowther, the answer
to all of them is the same.

I can do it.

Mrs Harte,
that's fanciful at best.

Two people have failed
in that shop this year.

Two inefficient people.

Mrs Cleveland —
Her stock was shoddy

and too expensive
for its quality.

She didn't know her customers.

I do. I know what kind
of clothes they like.

And I'm good. You know I am.

And you said it yourself,
I'm a grafter. I can sell.

Which is why I can't afford
to lose you from my shop.

You wouldn't be losing me.

We'll drive business
to each other. Right now,

when people come in,
all they see is rolls of cloth.

With my dress shop next door,

you'll have a showroom
for what that cloth can become.

Double your profits in a month.
Treble them probably.

Plus, I'll be
your best customer.

Every dress that I sell,

I'll be buying the cloth
from you.

And the shop's empty,
Mr Lowther, gathering dust.

I can take it off your hands
today, now, this minute,

so you don't lose
a moment's rent.

Mrs Harte, you forget
I know your circumstances.

You live in my upstairs room.

The deposit on that shop
is sky—high.

I have enough in here
for your deposit.

And because I know
you're nervous about me,

which you won't be the moment
you see the profits I bring in.

I know you usually ask for
four weeks' rent in advance,

but I have enough in here
for eight.

It's all in here.

Take it.
—Mrs Harte…

Do I need to remind you —
You're having a baby?

That's for me to take care of.

And it's why I'm absolutely
certain that this is right.

Oh, I'm sorry.
—No, it's fine. I was just…

I was just walking home.

You're allowed
to walk where you like.

Nice aim you've got there.

I've sat through three days now

of your aunt talking
about bridal bouquets,

and of you and your father

shouting at each other
about looms.

I had some steam to let off.

Oh!

So, let's see.

Not bad, not bad.
—Not bad.

Terrible.
—Dreadful.

Well, they'll be
wondering about dinner.

Yes.

You know when you asked me
to marry you?

I thought we had a connection.

That you were optimistic,
like me.

You seemed starry—eyed,

and I wasn't sure if we made
each other's hearts soar,

not in the way people talk about
hearts soaring in books…

You probably don't read
those kind of books.

Not really.

But you know the concept…
of heart—soaring?

Yes.

Anyway, I just wanted to say…

… not everyone gets that —
The heart—soaring.

That's not what life is,
I don't think.

But recently, stars have left
those eyes of yours.

And… I know this engagement
pleases your father,

and he's not an easy man
to please, but…

… we could just walk away.

There's a lot to be said
for pleasing people.

And not just parents.

Priya,
I wouldn't have asked you…

I wouldn't have considered it
if I hadn't intended…

… somehow.

I'll do my very best
to please you, too.

Well, let me know, will you…

… when the
"trying to please me" starts?

Mother.

How are you?

I suppose I…
wanted to see you.

If you don't mind?

Because everything
just feels a bit…

… wrong somehow.

Priya's a sweet girl
in many ways.

Where is your father?

He never comes to me.

Your father never comes
anywhere near me.

Where is he?

He's… not back yet.

I—I don't know. He's been busy
at the mill. We all have.

But does he not know
that I'm here, Edwin?

And I'm not nobody.

I'm not nobody.

Take your hands off me!

Mother…

Stop it!

Get out!

Sorry.

I'm sorry.

One, two…

Shelves here,
rails of dresses here and here,

and a fitting area here.

And also, a range of elasticated
skirts for pregnant women.

And a chair for them,
but also for people like you.

Menfolk.

And there will be a fire.
The shop will always be warm.

And you'll pay to heat it,
will you?

Yes. And it'll be worth it,

because people will want
to come,

and every customer
will be greeted by name.

And, Emma,

in a few weeks' time…
the baby.

I'll manage.

Ooh…

Fire! Fire!

Oh…

Oh… Oh, God!

Move! Move!

Move.

What's happened?
—It overheated.

And it's empty?
No—one in there?

Who's in there? Who?

My brother. Edwin.

Edwin went in.

Master Edwin!

We can do this.

Ohh! We can do this.
Can't we?

Can't we?

Of course we can.

I'm here.

We're alone.

But we can do it together.

Ohh…

Oh…

Edwin!

Oh, my God!

Emma Harte.

Is there nothing…
in the whole world you can't do?

Mother loved to say
I spent my christening

pulling faces at the vicar.

This is how Mam must have felt
about me.

She'd be so sad
there's no christening now.

Vicars don't look kindly
on mothers like me.

Who needs a church?

Or a font?

Now, what are you naming her?

Because, mavourneen, lucky you,

the decision's all yours…

… on account of her father,

your local lad,
being off on his boat.

Edwina is her name.

Well…

What an elegant name.

Edwina Shane Harte.

Named after her Uncle Mac.

Best man I know.

Edwina Shane…

… Harte.

In the name of God the Father,

the Son and the Holy Ghost…

May you be healthy,
wealthy and wise.

No sense adding beautiful,
cos look at her mother.

She didn't even cry.

Ah…

Sure, what has she got
to cry about?

What are you going to say when

the registrar asks
for her father's name?

Unknown.

Ah, Emma,
don't go making her unknown.

Don't give her that.

Put me.

Mac… it's such
a responsibility.

Ah, now, do I have to be
telling you again

about these shoulders?

Well, darlin', how do you feel?

Safe.

Almost.

I'm beginning to feel me
and Edwina might be safe.

Sure, if that little girl's
not the luckiest in the world.

No—one in my family
is going to suffer.

Not ever again.

Do you mind, darling?

Stay, Olivia. Please.

I will stay in this house
while my son needs me.

Then, the moment Edwin's well,
I need to be, too.

I need to leave.

My darling.

I've not been the mother
you deserve.

And I'm so sorry.

But I promise
I will put this right.

I promise you.

It's all right. I'm coming.

I just need…

Stop.

Stop.

You're my baby girl.

Yes, you are.

And, Edwina, you are so loved.

So loved.

And I won't let anything
happen to you.

I'll take care of you.

And you will have the best
of everything.

I promise you.

You know, those Fairleys
turned their back on us

because they think
they're better than us.

That's what they think.

And if it takes my whole life,

all of my energy
and everything I've got,

I'm going to prove to them
that they're wrong.

I will keep you safe.

And if I have to make
sacrifices,

give a few things up,
then I will do.

If it means
you're taken care of,

I'll sacrifice anything
in the world. I will.

Dad?

Dad…

Dad…

There's a bag by the door
with all her necessaries.

She's had a good sleep

and two bottles already
this morning.

So she's good at taking bottles.

And I've put a letter in there
for cousin Freda,

thanking her.

Um, and I've put in some lists,

songs Edwina likes sung
and so on,

because Freda might not know
what kind of song she likes.

You're sure about this,
mavourneen?

You're… certain?

Sacrifices must be made.

If that means
we have to be apart

while I get this
up and running…

And this is all for her.

One day, Edwina will
thank me for this.

She will.

Cousin Freda's
the motherly sort.

Will you tell her
I'll visit next weekend?

And after that,
every other Sunday.

And I'll send money, of course.

And will you tell…

Emma…
—Tell her I have to do it.

Please.

Will you make sure
she understands that?

Tell her there's no choice.
—Ah, darlin'…

As soon as I get back on my feet

and I can look after her properly,

I'll bring her back to me.

Now, just take her.

Please just take her.

Emma…

God knows you're doing
all of this for this child.

I don't know about him,
but I just hope Edwina knows.

Now, will you please just go?

Just go. Please.

All for me?

All of this has been
for your family?

Well, I'm sorry to tell you,
Mummy,

but it's felt an awful lot
from where I've been sitting

as though you've done
it all for you.

And where have you
been sitting, Edwina?

On which cushioned seats,

on which velvet chaise longue
and at which polished table

have you spent your entire life
sitting?

Would we have starved to death,
do you think,

if you'd worked less
and been at home more,

or would we have eaten
just less costly brie?

I am struggling
not to feel ashamed!

If you have ever been
in any doubt

that I love you, Edwina,

with all my heart…
—All of it?

Or is there just a little bit
of that heart

that resents me, resents
all of us, for not being you?

Oh, we can't compete on
the suffering front, of course.

Dry bread, holes in your shoes.

And if only your mother
could've afforded

a paracetamol or two,
she might have lived!

And there it is.

NOW I feel ashamed.

I'm not your only rebel child,

but because I'm the first—born,

the first palmed off
on a relative,

the first lied to
about her father…

So what's next
in your bold new world

of skulduggery and initiative,
Edwina?

Well, I shall call
my anarchic siblings.

To tell them you fumbled it.

No. To tell them that the plan
may no longer be secret,

but that nothing has changed.

Hmm.
—We continue.

And then who will you have?
Hmm?

I shall have Paula.

Paula?

Is that Jim Fairley?
—Yes, Mrs Harte.

He came in to collect
the paperwork

for the reopening
of his magazine.

I've never met a woman like you.

Invisible husband,
invisible baby.

Do you think it's a coincidence,

his interest in you?

I need to go back
to see my family.

Dad?

-—This is all about revenge.
-Yes, it is.

And it feels wonderful!