01x06 - Episode 6

[bunniefuu]

And of course I shall be
in Rome next month,

so I look forward to discussing

your thoughts on my proposals
in person.

Meanwhile, my assistant

will be booking my next week's
appointments,

as I shall only be
on my business trip

for another three days at most.

The doctors say a week,
at least.

Nobody must know, Jerry.

Any weakness just plays
into their hands.

I shall only be
on my business trip

for another three days at most.

And also…

Have there been any calls,
Jerry?

Hundreds. I've had Sitex
on the phone day and night,

and also…
—No, no, not work calls.

Calls from the family.

I've not let anyone know
you're ill, Mrs Harte.

At your instruction.

Of course.

We both know there's someone
who would want to be informed.

If Paula knew you were ill,
she'd be frantic.

♪ You're my honey bee… ♪

Are you feeling…?
—Better.

I miss her, of course,

but better than before.

Better than,
"How f*cking dare she?!"

But actually, how dare she?

Telling me who to love,

then just swanning off
on some mystery trip.

She makes me so f*cking angry!

People that we love do that.

I love you…

… Jim Fairley.

I've tried to stop.

But I don't think
it works like that.

♪ You're my honey bee
You're my honey bee… ♪

Go home, Jerry,

and tell that boyfriend of
yours, when his show opens,

I shall be wanting
front—row seats.

Mrs Harte, might this be a sign?

To join an exercise class?

To slow down.

Take a holiday, or two.

Have a rest.

Have we met?

I'm Emma Harte.

Thank you. Oh, merry Christmas.

Hello.

Nice to see you again.

Mr Kallinski, do we have
any Turkish delight left?

Oh, I don't imagine so.
There's been such a run on it

from all the big houses
on the hill.

You wouldn't believe
how popular it's been.

The fancy housekeepers
have taken two boxes.

But might we find one for
Mrs Easton, do you suppose?

Right…

Success!
—Well, then,

I'd better take both.

Oh, and you'd be wise
to add a tin of pork

and one more jar
of apple sauce, I think.

Thank you.
—You're welcome.

Good evening.

Emma. It's Christmas Eve.

I imagine there are stockings
that need hanging,

trees that need decking.

Oh, tell Edwina I've put
one extra sugar mouse

in your basket just for her,
so she is not to share.

I can close up.
You get going.

Thank you.

Oh, I have an ulterior motive.
I'm planning to steal cheese.

Take whatever you can carry.

And I mean it.
I know your family's

probably finished celebrating
now that Hanukkah's over,

but we'd love you and Flora
to join us tomorrow.

Joe's complaining you can't see
t'kitchen surfaces for food.

Our Frank can't come.
Too busy working for his exams.

And Mac's been
goodness knows where for months.

Mac always has a mystery girl
or a party in every town.

Both, mainly.
So, no, no—one's coming.

Which means there will be
plenty of room for you both…

Emma, I don't…

I've been happy to help out here

over the last couple of years,
but…

… I can't just pretend to be a
regular friend of your family.

I can't.

Merry Christmas, David.

I think they're here.

I just… I didn't…

I'm sorry…

I'm sorry. I'll leave.
—No, don't.

Olivia… Please…

… stay.

I don't come in here often.

I quite understand
how occasionally

it could be helpful to…
—Mm.

She's everywhere.

These wretched potions of hers.

Always mysterious.
—Mm.

It's difficult this week,
particularly.

She loved Christmas.
—Yes.

Oh, no. Ah…

Sit down.

It's all right. Sit.

There's so many different
versions of her on every wall.

She loved it.

I can't bear one mirror
most days.

Yet you are more beautiful
every minute.

We should, er…

They'll be wondering where…

We should…

Welcome. You made it.

It's been an age
since you visited.

Aunt Olivia.

Oh, I love your earrings,
Olivia.

Thank you.

Happy Christmas.
—You're here!

Good.

It's just me
and the happy couple.

Standard's thriving, I hear.

I've had nothing
but good reports.

Hard week, was it,

at the forefront of world news?

"Festive joy
at Armley Christmas fete."

It's what sells.

Well, I'm glad someone
finally worked out what does.

Bloody newspaper's been
a liability for us for years,

but you've made it pay.

I thought the plan was
when you took over the paper

that it would be nothing
but hard—hitting journalism.

I'm saving
my stirring editorials

about German defence spending
for January.

Dinner time.
Drinks, perhaps?

Yes, please. Drinks, plural.

Oh, and then some
kind of parlour game.

Father wants to play
a jolly game, Aunt Olivia.

What do you think?

Happy Families? Wink m*rder?

Gerald.

Leave him.

I'm going out.

It's Christmas Eve.

Does the casino never close?

Listen…
Have you got any cash?

None for you to lose.

I thought the mill
was back on an even keel.

Since Mother…

Hasn't it felt like
being under water?

Yes.

Are you getting yourself
into trouble?

Christ.

The interest these loan people
charge, Edwin.

They're villains.

Hamilton Equitable…
they call themselves.

Now they're threatening me
with demands for repayment.

And Father mustn't know,
but I…

But I've all but promised them
my first—born.

By Boxing Day.

But tonight I have a sure thing.

I can make it all back,
and more.

OK? Please. Hmm?

That paper is such
a financial triumph. Hmm?

Please.

Look at this pretty one, Daddy.

That is lovely. Right.
Where can we put this one?

There? Or…

… higher?
—Higher! Higher!

Higher! Higher, you say.

Well, look at this. Goodness!

Here you are at last.

You must be exhausted.

Now, where's my favourite girl?

No down—down, no.

Let… Let's get another one.
—Oh, you've…

You've already
hung the stockings.

Well, Edwina wanted to do them

before her baby brother
went to bed.

Of course.

And she's been working so hard.

Just like her mam.

Well, the tree looks beautiful.

You've an eye for it, love.

But there's a gap here, look.

If we just move this bauble…

… over here…
—No, I want it there. No!

We had found
just the right spot for it,

hadn't we, sweetheart?
—Clever girl.

It's perfect
just where you put it.

What about this one, Daddy?

Right. Where shall we put that?

Up there?

OK. Let's try…

Come on.

Safely tucked up?

On her back, mouth open.

And Kit's got his blanket.

We were packed today.
Sold all of the fresh stuff.

Just a load of beef
and potato pies

left in the stockroom
I need to shift.

Joe, have you thought any more
about the shops?

Mm?

Hardly allowed to these days,
am I?

You're welcome to be
as involved as you like in the shops.

Am I?

And what about
your other businesses?

The ones that I'm not allowed
to know about?

What other businesses?

Anyway, you've got your garden.

And your books.

Big reader.
That's right.

I'm sure that's what
the neighbours think of me.

No…

What I meant was…

Have you thought about me
buying the shops?

Having all three in my name?

I have the money put away
and I want to pay.

But…

… for a Christmas present…

… if you're short of one,

I'd like my name
on all of the deeds.

I'm sorry to break it to you,

but for almost two years
we've had the same name.

You know what I mean.

I know that it's time for bed.

I'll kiss the children for you,
shall I?

I always kiss the children.
I kiss them all the time.

You do, yes.

Outside of trading hours.

How was your sure thing?

Sure things are like marriages.

Only fools expect
they'll work out.

I need more time
to throw myself at the mercy of

these Hamilton Equitable people.

Make them see sense, man to man.

I'll be late for lunch.
Don't tell Father.

Oh!

Oh, so good.

Could have had the maids
come in to at least do dinner.

They've families of their own
to be with.

And you don't?

Run—up to Christmas,

obviously the shop comes first.

But I must say,
I did hope that today…

Today I've a million things
to do. But you sit.

Please, sit.

What time did you get up?

I was hoping we might get to,
er, lie in.

Do I fall short
in that department?

Daddy!
—No! I just meant…

Cake! Cake! Cake!

She's wanting the Yule log.

No, love. We don't have
chocolate for breakfast.

And the Yule log's for later, so…
—It's Christmas.

No, Joe. She mustn't.

Not the whole thing!

Oh, where's the harm?
—Don't give it to her!

Now, look! The waste!

Well, it looks like
you've got this under control.

Anyone want to play a game?

Me, me, me!
I want to play!

Lovely. Just over there.

Just trying to fill the gaps a bit.

When we were children,
Adele and I

used to decorate place settings
with people's names,

which cost nothing, of course.

But I didn't know
if Edwin and Gerald

would think it a bit silly.

Too much. Probably.

You're doing a wonderful job.

Thank you.

I just wanted to make it,
well, if not perfect,

then at least bearable.

Where would we have been
without you these last few years?

And before that,

I realise,

for years, decades,

you were always there.

Oh… Olivia…

Is that…?
—Adele's ring? Yes.

She'd be so glad
for you to have it.

Darling…

… will you be my wife?

Yes.

Now…

… where are the boys?

A tea party!

Look, Daddy, look!

Oh, wow! Can I join in?
—Yes, of course, Daddy.

Delicious tea…

Shh—shh—shh—shh.

Oh, not today, surely.

What's to do there?
It's shut.

I'm fetching another Yule log.

Also, I've had an idea about
those beef and potato pies.

They need shifting.

Emma, it's Christmas Day.
—Be back soon, love.

You won't know I'm gone.

You look lovely.

I suppose we should
go downstairs.

Yes. Don't want it
to look like we're hiding.

But first…

It's beautiful.

Thank you.

Thank goodness.

It was a risk. But, um,

I know with my mother,

remembering's good.

And last year,
our first Christmas,

we hardly knew each other,

so I can't even remember
what I got you.

Something unimaginative,
I expect, like… chocolates.

Er…

I love them.

Mm.

Oh, never mind the Balkans.

Asquith!
Asquith is the real threat.

You're telling me
that if the French went to w*r,

he wouldn't follow them
without a second thought?

Like a shot.
But it won't come to that.

Well, better ask his wife.

Asquith tells everything
to his wife.

And Lloyd George
tells everything

to other people's wives.

Mm.

Speaking of wives…

Show them.

Oh! Congratulations.

Thank you.

Edwin, I know
that this must be…

I'm making an honest woman
out of her, Edwin.

And she is making me…

The happiest man in the world?

Congratulations…

… Aunt Olivia.

Really must release yourself
of it, Olivia...

this shame of yours.

This… guilt.

It's exhausting.

Excuse me,
I have a bit of a headache.

Your brother didn't say
when he'd deign to join us?



What are you doing here?

I could ask you the same.

But the gold letters outside
give you away.

Why have you come,
Gerald Fairley?

Mr Fairley… to you.

I have a letter
for Hamilton Equitable.

Then I'd better take it.

I've places to be,
even if you don't.

Mulled wine, mince pies
and the like.

So hand over the letter
you've gone to all the trouble

of bringing me
and take your leave.

YOU'RE Hamilton Equitable?

You're in the money—lending
business?

Only to you.

Heard you got yourself into
trouble, as the weak often do,

and saw an opportunity.
Now, get out of my shop.

Leave any correspondence
you have on the mat

and I'll reply after Christmas.

This is the best Christmas
present I could ever have,

because here's me thinking that
I had to pay that money back,

that Hamilton Equitable
was some kind of real firm!

Oh, it's real, all right.

Some little jumped—up housemaid
bearing a grudge

because she got rejected

is no real business.
—Take that up

with the team of lawyers who
have verified my interest rates

and the contract you signed.
Now, get out of my shop.

And I want that money
by tomorrow, as agreed.

Think you're clever, don't you?

Where's the child, Emma Harte?

I haven't got a child.
—Oh, come on.

Where's the child you had
that belongs to my brother?

I did not have
your brother's baby.

Don't give me that!

You're nothing but a wh*re.

A good one, I have no doubt.

But nonetheless… a wh*re.

Edwin told me the whole
sorry tale late one night,

tears in his eyes.

I don't know what story
he's told you or himself,

but I didn't have Edwin's child.

Does your father know
how much debt you're in?

I know your game, Emma Harte.

I know it's common practice

with tramps
from the working class,

that you'll turn up with
your child at some stage

to blackmail our family.

Well, you've had enough money
out of me.

You know Edwin's married now,
don't you?

Not that his wife gives him
what he wants.

Not like you did, I'm sure.

I saw how stuck on you
Edwin was.

So I imagine you know

how to move those hips of yours,
don't you?

Oh, come on.

Gave it up willingly enough
for Edwin, didn't you?

And I'm not above
taking his seconds!

What's the matter?

wh*res like you are ready
any time of day or night.

Where's your Christmas spirit,
Emma, huh?

Let's see… You've put on
your little dress

for me.
—Get off!

I used to see you in my house.

Watching.

You always knew what
you wanted, and so did I.

So did I!

Yes, you did. I know you did.
I can tell.

That is the final deposit

in settlement of my account.

Ah!

Get out, because I mean it —
I will k*ll you.

I will.

I like a tiger.

I like you wild, Emma Harte.

You are nothing, Gerald Fairley.

You are an insignificant man

who's had every advantage
his whole life.

Yet the only way
you feel like a winner

is to use physical strength
for approximately 15 seconds.

Well, your body might be
stronger than mine,

but your resolve never will be.

Your filthy animal needs
will never match the lust,

the fire that burns
inside of me.

Because my desire
is destruction.

And I'll never stop. Not ever.

Not till I've ruined you
and every other member

of your self—absorbed,
privileged

and spineless family!
—You boring little tr*mp.

And as for the money you owe,
check your contract.

I'm calling in your collateral.

You… You couldn't.
—One signature from me,

and it's done.
When I sign that paper,

every brick of Fairley Mill
will belong to me,

and I'll leave it up to you
to explain to your dad

why you put it up as security,
because this is just the start.

I won't stop
making your family pay

until every Fairley living
mourns the day they ever heard

the name Emma Harte!

So, happy Christmas,
Gerald Fairley,

from all at Hamilton Equitable
and Harte Enterprises.

Go. Go!

Finally! Shop all ship—shape?

All well?
Are you feeling better?

I got the Yule log.

Well, that's good,
cos we're going to need

all the supplies
that we can get.

Sure, if there had been
no Yule log,

I'd have had my coat on
and be striding out that door.

What's a Yule log?

You came!

You're here.

Happy Christmas!

Mavourneen, you all right?

I am now.

Mac's got a surprise of his own.

Oh!

I'm sorry. Hello.

Emma, this is Laura, my friend.

A special friend.

Isn't that great news?

It is. Course it is.

I kept telling Mac it wasn't
a day for introductions,

but you know what he's like.

He did tell you I was coming?

Of course.

Welcome.
Welcome, indeed.

And for goodness' sake,

let's have a drink, shall we?

Am I an ill—mannered brute?

No warning,

and an uninvited guest in tow.

Oh, a dreadful brute. Always.

But always, always welcome.

First one you've introduced,

so I'm guessing Laura's
not like the others.

The many others.

Ah, it's lies, the lot of it.

I barely know any girls at all.

Not in danger of settling down,
are you?

Shane O'Neill?

Sure…

… it takes a special girl
to get a proposal from me,

Emma Harte.

Do I still have a wife?
Presents!

We've waited long enough!

Later on, perhaps.

You can't give a man a present
and not let him open it.

What is it, Daddy?

"My love, your gift is outside
the front of the house."

Oh!
—Is it a treasure hunt?

Treasure hunt!
Treasure hunt!

Outdoors? I mean,
what needs to be kept cold?

A beer?

Not a beef and potato pie?

Daddy, look! Is it for you?

Not for me?

No! Emma!
—I know you wanted one.

Yeah, but I never dreamed it…

Have you seen this?

A car, from my beautiful,
hard—working wife.

What do you think, Edwina?

No more hardship
for Emma Harte, eh?

Well done, mavourneen.

I have an unimaginative gift.

I need help with.
—Nice.

My husband hasn't shown
his devotion to me

with cheap chocolates.

No, these are
definitely mid—range.

I don't agree with everything
Mr Fairley says, but…

… I'm sure he's right

that your sister
would want you to be happy.

Who knows what Adele
would have wanted?

She didn't know herself,
I suspect.

All I know is how strange
it feels with her gone.

It's as if everything's
gone dark.

People leave us,
but the love doesn't.

You think you can't stand it,
the grief.

Then one day it starts
to become bearable.

The sun comes out.

Olivia!

Where have you got to?
Olivia!

We can look for it ourselves
all we like,

but what we're all hoping for
is that love finds us.

Don't you think?

Real love.

The kind
you don't have to question.

No. Thank you.

You saw Edwin's reaction.
He was horrified.

And if we think
that anyone at all

will feel any differently,
then we're lying to ourselves.

I mean, for God's sake,
I don't feel any differently.

It is horrifying.

So I can't do it.
I'm sorry, I can't.

So it was all for nothing, then?

Adele's death?

You broke your sister's heart.

She drank herself to death.

We all lost her.

We all suffered this
unimaginable, utter misery,

but for no reason.

Olivia…

… if we don't legitimise this,

if we don't show the world
that you and I weren't just

fooling around, then…

… how do you explain what the hell
you're still doing here?

What's been going on
in this house?

How…

… do we explain it to the boys?

Now…

Come on, it's Christmas.

What are we playing?
Charades?

Ha—ha!

For my beautiful wife,
the deeds to the shop.

All three. All in your name.
Merry Christmas.

I want to pay for them.
I mean it.

-—I have all the money saved.
-Very, very fast.

Hold on tight.

That car was some present.

Joe deserves some consolation
for his absentee wife.

And he deserves
not to feel…

… stuck.

Also, you deserve a husband
who can speed you up and down

in a fancy sports car.

He did want a car.

It's just that maybe
he wanted other things more.

It can be lonely.

Am I right?

Having purpose.

Being so certain every day.

Not everyone understands,

so it can be lonely.

Laura's wonderful.
—Ah…

She's a good woman.
—Seems stuck on you.

Can you blame the girl?

She's not like us, though.

Well, what a relief!

Well, she wants a quiet life.

Although, did you see her
in the passenger seat

screaming to us?

She's a dark horse, Kit,
tell you that.

I'm glad you like her, though.

That's important.

I'm buying the shops from Joe.
All of them.

And I've got myself a present,
too.

You're looking at the new owner
of Fairley Mill.

Because when you're busy
making sacrifices every day,

you deserve the odd reward.

You're doing it, Emma.

You're doing it.
—I am.

I am.

And I'm only just beginning.

Wow!
—Beep—boop!

Cheque for the shops.

Emma…
—I want to.

Please. To feel safe.

How was it?
—Oh, she's a dream!

The car AND the wife.

Thank you.

I wanted you
to have something you loved.

So did I.

Hey—hey!

Hello!

Oh, you're squashing me!
Watch out!

I'm flesh and blood, you know.

We wanted to surprise you,
hey, didn't we?

Yeah.

Are you surprised?

I am, our Frank! I am, I am.

What's more important, eh,
than family?

Come here!

Where the hell have you been?

You've missed quite a day.

Did you at least manage
to buy yourself more time?

Gerald?

Mother was the only one
who thought anything of me,

wasn't she?

Is this about the debt?

Gerald, it's just money.
It doesn't matter.

It's gone. The mill's gone.
She's taken it.

Who has? Who's taken it?

Your little wh*re.

Emma Harte.

Strutting around
like she's anything more

than just a tr*mp maid.

And she's dangerous.
She won't stop there.

But we can make sure
she gets what's coming to her.

Can't we, Edwin?

We'll remind Emma Harte
who she really is.

We'll make her sorry. Won't we?

This is madness.
Pretending everything's fine,

when we all know w*r
could be declared any second.

If we don't go over there
and stop the Germans,

they'll bring the fight to us.

What has that damn girl
done now?

She's punishing me
and she won't give up.

Time is not a luxury we have,
gentlemen. The w*r has begun.