01x01 - Episode One

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "The Pursuit of Love". Aired: 9 May –; 23 May 2021.*
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Longing for love and obsessed with sex, Linda is on the hunt for the perfect lover, but finding Mr. Right is much harder than she thought.
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01x01 - Episode One

Post by bunniefuu »

What did I tell you about
air raids not k*lling people?

My bed simply
went through the floor...

and Plon-Plon and I went on it.

Perfectly comfortable.

Linda Radlett was not only
my favourite cousin...

but then, and for many years,
my favourite human being.

Don't pity me, Fanny.

I've had five months of perfect
and unalloyed happiness.

Very few people can say that in the
course of long lives, I imagine.

Very few.

As we turned down the drive
at Alconleigh...

I asked myself if Linda's five
months of perfect happiness...

were quite worth all the chaos and
confusion of the other 29 years.

But I often thought about
things like that with Linda.

It always feels like Christmas,
coming home.

I know.

Ever since I was a small child...

I was sent to spend
the Christmas holidays with Linda...

in a large, ugly, north-facing house
high on a hill in Oxfordshire.

Most of these Christmases
were marked with v*olence.

There was the time Linda's pony
lay on her in the brook...

and nearly drowned her.

The time she tried to k*ll herself
in an attempt to rejoin...

a smelly old Border terrier
which Uncle Matthew had put down.

The time she decided to tell...

the daughters of some
neighbours the facts of life...

resulting in dreadful
beatings from Uncle Matthew...

and luncheon alone
for two whole weeks.

Linda hated to be alone.

She was a wild and nervous creature...

full of passion and longing.

But of all the Christmases...

the Christmas I remember
the most was when we were 17...

and Linda decided that her
life had to begin.

No, you can't give the dog a cake
before you give me a piece.

That's not fair.

I stumbled into the hall
and found Linda's mother...

my Aunt Sadie, and the children
having tea as they always did...

in front of the fireplace, over
which hung, as it always had...

the entrenching tool
Uncle Matthew had used...

to whack to death eight Germans as
they crawled out of a dugout in 1915.

Linda's father, my Uncle Matthew...

knew no middle course.

He either loved or he hated...

and, generally,
it must be said, he hated.

I hate Huns, Frogs,
Americans, Catholics...

and all other foreigners,
but above all, I hate children.

He had four beautiful bloodhounds...

with which, every Christmas...

he would hunt his children,
and a pair of stock whips...

he cracked on the lawn
every morning at dawn.

Had the Radletts been poor...

he no doubt would have been
sent to prison for b*ating...

and refusing to educate them.

Uncle Matthew loathed
educated females...

particularly me.

Fanny.

Fanny.
-You're here.

Fanny, welcome.
You must be exhausted.

Come and have a cup of tea.
How was your journey?

Come and sit in Jassy's chair.

As always, Linda was the most
pleased to see me...

but determined not to show it.

Linda?

Fanny's here.

Would you like a cup of tea?

Yes, please.

Hello.

Where's your mouse?

She got a sore back and d*ed.

Had you been riding it?

Nobody cried so much
or so often as Linda.

That's how they always die.
It's some sort of urinary disease.

Anything, but especially anything
about animals, would set her off.

Her emotions were
on no ordinary plane.

She loved or she loathed.

She laughed or she cried.

She lived in
a world of superlatives.

Linda was the chairman of a secret
club called the Hons Society.

Its headquarters was a linen
cupboard at the top of the house.

Six.
-OK.

That's great.

Three-quarters. Well done.

The dead mouse was
quickly forgotten.

Even smaller than last year.

Your hair's got long.
-Neck, tummy.

One...

Seven and a third.

So I win on arms, eyes,
waist, ankles...

and you win on bust.
-I hate bust.

Farmers love busts.

Linda and I were both in love
with people we had never met...

I with a fat, red-faced...

middle-aged farmer I sometimes saw...

riding through the village...

and Linda with the Prince of Wales.

Why can't your prince and my farmer...

be invited to Louisa's ball?

Because Matthew won't let
anyone fanciable...

within 50 miles of the house.

A coming-out ball was planned
that Christmas...

for Linda's older sister, Louisa.

We're trapped.

Our only hope is the Prince
breaking down in his motor car.

"Pray, who is
that beautiful young lady?

"I wish to marry her."

"Well, you can't.
She's here under lock and key.

"I k*lled 15 Germans
with an entrenching tool.

"I can certainly k*ll you."

"He must have your daughter, sir.

"His happiness depends on it,
and subsequently...

"so does the happiness
of England."

Even then, Linda's fantasies were
altogether more ambitious...

and dangerous than mine.

I want to sit next to Fanny.

You took your time.

This better be good, Linda.
-It is.

It's so hot in here.
Talk about back to the womb.

It's more welcoming than
my mother's womb, I imagine.

Fanny, it is unfair that you
have wicked parents and not me.

So you aspire to being wicked
and adulterous, do you, Linda?

No. I aspire to true love.

The kind of which only comes once
in a lifetime and lasts for ever.

The news I have for the Hons today,
while of considerable Hon interest...

generally particularly concerns...

Fanny.

Aunt Emily is engaged.

No, Linda, you're making it up.

I found proof.
"My dear sister Sadie...

"not to tell the children
we're engaged.

"The captain and I will arrive
late on Christmas Eve...

"and stay in time for Louisa's
party, of course.

"All love from Emily."

Why would she want
to get married, anyway?

She can't love him.

He's 40.
-He must be ancient.

Maybe he'll fall in love with Fanny.

Aunt Emily had brought me up
ever since I was a baby.

It had always been just her and me.

Aunt Sadie had two sisters...

my mother and Aunt Emily.

At the age of 19, my mother...

feeling herself too
beautiful and gay to be...

burdened with a baby,
left my father for another man...

and gave me to Aunt Emily
to bring up.

Goodbye, darling.

My impetuous mother
subsequently ran away so often...

and with so many different men...

that she became known to her family
and friends as "The Bolter".

There you are, darling...

Occasionally she would reappear
like a meteor...

showering me with her extravagance...

and I would long to be caught
up in her fiery trails...

and be carried away...

but she would always vanish
off again to a new man.

And in my heart,
I knew how lucky I was...

to have safe, reliable,
kind Aunt Emily.

Come on, Fanny.

Get dressed, lazybones.

The Radletts loved animals...

but more than anything in the world...

they loved to hunt foxes.

All away.

Where is her Ladyship, your
mother, hunting this Christmas?

She's in Paris, Josh.

No human being like her Ladyship
I ever saw on a horse.

And look at you.

Jostling about in that saddle.

Miss Linda takes after her Ladyship,
your mother, something wonderful.

Why is that good?

Isn't my mother supposed to
be wicked, Josh?

Here's Fanny.

Darling, may I introduce you
to Captain Warbeck?

Please only ever call me Davey.

He looked different
with his clothes on.

You must find it a terrible joke,
old people like us getting married.

No, of course not.

Captain David Warbeck.

He doesn't look much like
a m*llitary man.

Or a marrying one, for that matter.

Can't see him k*lling any Germans
with an entrenching tool.

Ooh.

Matthew is frightening,
and I disapprove of him so...

but in a way I feel he sets
the bar for English manhood.

Don't be sad.

Yeah, but it's always been
just me and Emily.

You'll always have boring old me.

Did you know that ducks can only
copulate in running water?

No.

Good luck to them.

Aunt Emily copulated last night.

They were all twisted around
each other...

when I went in there this morning.

Really?

God. How?
Show me. Show me how.

You're sex obsessed.
-I know, it's true.

I masturbate every time I
think about Lady Jane Grey.

And I think about her all the time.

Fanny.

Davey. You are a clever cove.

He says these Charles II
salt-shakers...

we thought we'd had
in the family for 300 years...

are really Georgian imitations,
not valuable at all.

Children, you are so lucky...

to be related to this
extraordinary fellow.

Yes, he's a terrific Hon.

Um, well, we have a Hons Society.

If you're a member,
you're honourable...

and our enemies are Counter Hons.

I'm honoured to be a Hon.

Davey, maybe you can influence Emily
on the subject of female education.

It's done Fanny absolutely no good
whatsoever, as far as I can tell.

She's picked up some dreadful
expressions...

from that school of hers.

Very likely she did.

Awful words like "mantelpiece"
and "notepaper"...

keep coming out of her mouth,
and her poor husband...

if she ever gets one...

A lot of men would find it
more irritating...

to have a wife who'd never
heard of George III...

or been allowed off their
family premises to pursue...

any sort of normal life.

They have absolutely everything
they will ever need here.

Church, stables, tennis court.

Why would they ever want to leave?

You don't have to go to some awful
middle-class establishment...

to learn who George III was.

Anyway, who was he, Fanny?

He was King.

And he went mad and...

Most illuminating.

Well worth losing every ounce
of feminine charm...

to learn that, I must say, Fanny.

Thighs like gateposts from
playing hockey...

and the worst seat on a horse
of any woman I've ever seen.

Linda, you're uneducated, thank God.

What do you have to say
about George III?

Well, he was the son
of poor Fred and...

he was the father
of Beau Brummell's fat friend.

And he was one of those
vacillators, you know?

I am his Highness's dog at Kew

Pray tell me, sir, whose dog
are you?

Ooh. How sweet.

No, and Fanny doesn't
have thighs like gateposts.

Her thighs are perfect.

I'd like to go to school.

Do shut up.

Matthew's trapped
his daughters here.

They manage to bridge
gulfs of ignorance...

with charm and high spirits...

and odds and ends of knowledge
they've picked up.

You're better off
not being like Linda.

She lacks all discipline.

Could easily come to nothing.

She does remind me of The Bolter.

I don't want her to come to nothing.

No.

Please don't bolt.
Don't ever leave me.

Why would I bolt when I'm going
to marry the Prince of Wales?

And have a train 40 feet long.

12 bridesmaids.

And you'll be the chief one.

What happens then?

You'll be happily ever after,
and what about me?

You'll be with me.

Chatting and having baths,
like always...

and being wise and clever
and funny and kind...

and the best thing there is...

because you know I'm lost
without you.

What if you die?

I won't die.

I'm not that sort of person.

Darling Linda...

I'm going to drag you
out of this place for ever...

and copulate with you in running
water like a divine duck...

and my goodness, how you'll live.

We don't want strangers here,
anyway, stinking the place up.

Well, you'll have to do something...

or there'll be no men at all at your
oldest daughter's coming-out ball.

Shut up.
There's Josh the groom.

And I've plenty of friends
in the House of Lords...

who'll be happy to come
if I promise them a sh**t.

Despite his suspicion of strangers...

Uncle Matthew couldn't do
anything to stop...

the day of Louisa's ball arriving.

As promised, Louisa's dance partners...

were Uncle Matthew's friends
from the House of Lords...

and Josh the groom.

So sorry.
-No, no, it's fine.

You're very patient.

Thank you.

All so small and ugly.

Old and ugly.

The evening was saved from utter
disillusionment by a late arrival...

Alconleigh's nearest neighbour.

Lord Merlin was an artist,
a musician...

and a patron of all the young.

What a set.

It was rumoured he had
two black whippets...

who wore diamond necklaces,
and a playhouse in the garden...

where he put on such extravagances
as Dada plays from Paris...

and jazz poetry from Harlem.

Uncle Matthew loathed him.

There's a man carrying a comb.

Davey.

I can introduce you, if you like.

No, Davey.

Our dresses are too bad.

I'm going to the cupboard.

Yes, me too.

I'm officially renouncing
His Royal Highness.

From now on I will devote myself...

to being one of those bright
young things of Merlin's.

Merlin's friends are more
in my mother's... orbit.

They're so beautiful
and sophisticated.

Don't you just...

ache for life
to be exciting, like this?

I think I'd like to
observe exciting things.

If only there were exciting things.

You.

You're an exciting thing.

You are.

We are.

We do everything together.

I'd be lost without you.

But the brief appearance
of Lord Merlin's house party...

only made the walls of Linda's
fortress appear higher than ever.

She became paralysed in
her longing for life and love...

and all she could do
was lie about waiting for it.

What's the time, darling?
-Guess.

Quarter to six.
-Better than that.

Six.
-Not quite so good.

Five to.
-Yes.

It's forever until we come out.

I can't live that long.

"As long as she thinks of a man...

"nobody objects to a woman
thinking."

That's what Virginia Woolf
has to say.

Well, then, no-one will object,
cos I only think about men.

Maybe that's because you
haven't been educated properly.

Or maybe it's because
everything else is boring.

What is it you actually want?

I want to escape.

And have fun and wear high heels
and go to the cinema...

and have sex and be adored
by a man and be in love.

What do you want?

Is life only about love?

Yes.

Louisa's dance had
an unexpected sequel.

I don't know why you'd
want to marry someone so old.

Louisa, half his hair
has slipped off his head...

like an eiderdown off the bed.

He's only 45.
-And you're 18.

If he was a dog,
you'd have to put him down.

I'm happy for
the first time in my life.

I'm getting out... for ever.

And you're going to be
stuck here, Linda...

hunting and walking the
dogs with Fa.

That's what comes
of being the favourite.

Shut up.

Don't you think you're a bit too old
to be sitting in a cupboard?

No, not really.

I'm not having any bridesmaids,
by the way...

so don't worry about your dresses.

What?

I'm not going to be upstaged on my
wedding day, thank you very much.

You're not having any bridesmaids?

No.

You can't think how stupid
you're going to look from behind.

Linda was really very jealous.

Shall we go, then, Papa?
-Yes, let's go.

She looks like the eldest and
ugliest of the Bronte sisters.

At that moment...

I think Linda would have gladly
changed places with Louisa...

even at the very heavy cost...

of living happily ever after with
John Fort-William.

I want to die.

Unless life begins absolutely
right now, I want to die.

Push me, will you?

Can you please...? Can you get
down, Linda, it's really high.

If only it weren't such
a difficult thing to do.

It's hard enough to k*ll
a rabbit, let alone oneself.

It's that hog Merlin.

I won't have my home filled
with Merlin's dago friends.

I hear he has Frogs there too.

I won't have Frogs or dagos
under any circumstances.

Hello, Merlin.

Lunch would be lovely.

What sort of birds are they?

Just ordinary pigeons.

Where do you get them that colour?

I dye them. Every year.

Dry them in the linen cupboard.

Isn't that frightfully cruel?
-No, they love it.

They love it. It makes them
so pretty for each other.

What about their poor little eyes?
-They soon learn to shut them.

I see you're taken with my silly
old Romantic Antoine Watteaus.

Love isn't silly.

Linda.
-It's my religion.

Is it really?

That's all she can think about.
It's really rather alarming.

Gertie, leave her alone.
I'm so sorry.

No, um...
I try to tell the girls...

that they've got to consider
practicalities.

They've got to write down how they'd
run a household on ?200 a year.

Linda always just puts
"?199 - flowers".

What lessons are you doing?

None at all.

Pa thinks that girls get fat
thighs from playing hockey...

if they go to school, but not that
Fanny has fat thighs.

Hers are perfect.

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

you need...

educating.

Yeah, that's what I said...

but she doesn't listen to me.

You have an intensely
romantic character.

I see trouble ahead.

I urge upon you the necessity...

for an intellectual background,
Linda.

Although I fear...

it may already be too late.

Come on, then.

For a while, Linda followed his
advice, finding comfort in books...

and things other than
the desperate pursuit of love...

But finally, inevitably...

the minutes turned to hours,
the hours to weeks...

the weeks to months...

and the impossible happened.

We'd attained the great golden
goal of every childhood.

We'd grown up.

Would you like to dance?

Yes, I would.

Tony Kroesig - in his last year at
Oxford, a member of the Bullingdon.

A splendid young man
with plenty of beautiful horses...

and exquisite clothes...

he had already
a strong air of pomposity...

a thing which Linda had never
come across before...

It's awfully muddy where you live.

I hope your chauffeur knows
how to park a Rolls-Royce.

Yes.

...and which she found
not unattractive.

Who's that sewer with Linda?

Kroesig. Governor of
the Bank of England - his son.

Kroesig?

Good God.

Never expected to be harbouring
a full-blooded Hun in the house.

Matthew, dear, don't get excited.
The Kroesigs aren't Huns.

They're a highly respected
family of bankers.

They've been over here
for generations.

Once a Hun, always a Hun.

Good God.

Does he know I still have
an entrenching tool

I used to whack eight
of his countrymen to death?

I don't suppose he does.

I always said Merlin would bring
foreigners here eventually.

I never thought he'd land us
with an actual German.

No, look. The poor rabbit.

This was the one romantic
gesture of Tony's life.

Tony went back to Oxford...

and Linda sat about waiting
for the telephone bell.

If this comes out...

he'll ring tomorrow.

If this comes out...

he'll be at the meet.

If this comes out...

he's thinking of me
at this very minute.

Hello.

Hello. Is that Linda?

It's Tony Kroesig here.

Hello, Tony.

Listen, will you come to lunch?

Christchurch, next Thursday,
one o'clock?

But... Fa doesn't let us alone
with young men unchaperoned.

He doesn't really let us out,
full stop.

Really?

You seem too old
for that sort of restriction.

Um... Bring your cousin
if you like.

All right.

That'd be lovely.

Bye.
-Goodbye.

You can't go, because Matthew
will throttle you.

I will actually die if I don't go...

so, you see, I'd be dead either way.

We have to escape
the fortress, Fanny.

There was only one way
we could devise to escape...

and it was full of risk.

A very dull girl of exactly our age...

called Lavender Davis...

lived with her very dull parents
about five miles away.

Once in a blue moon, Linda,
complaining vociferously...

was sent over to luncheon with them...

driving herself in
Sadie's little car.

Why are you two dressed up
for breakfast?

Lavender Davis wants us
to go over to lunch there.

Duck, you can't have
the car, I'm afraid.

Perkins is going to wash it.

But, Mummy, you don't...
you don't understand.

The whole point is that a man's
coming who brought up a baby badger.

And I do so want to meet him.

When we go to London for the season...

you'll barely have
time for a badger.

Badgers are nocturnal anyway,
so you wouldn't even see it.

Good point...

Darling Jassy, lend me
your running-away money.

What? No.

I've saved and scraped
ever since I was seven...

for when I plan to run away myself.

I've no education or training,
so I'll need every penny.

Just enough for a couple of
train tickets to Oxford.

Darling, I'll give it all back.

Tony will.

I know men.

Who has a badger?

Last time, you said you didn't mind...

if you never saw the Davises
again in your whole life.

Dear.

You said you wanted to bash
Lavender Davis's face in...

with a mallet.

Yes, she did say that.

Come on, Fanny. Let's go.

It's barely nine o'clock
in the morning. Girls.

Deceptacon by Le Tigre

They're so serious.
It's like church.

Do you think that we
would be as clever?

If you evened it all out, I mean.

Bath time.

Last one in's a sissy.

We must keep our ends up, Fanny.

I think I'm happy with my end down.

Come on, let's do it.
We'd look so chic.

Davey says it's deadly
to talk about hunting.

Of course I won't.
They're intellectuals.

Hello.

Been hunting at all?

Yes, actually.
We were out yesterday.

Good day?
-Great.

Actually very.

We found at once and we had a
five-mile point and then we...

That's marvellous.
-Yes.

Yeah. Well, we had a good
day yesterday too.

Then my first horse went lame.

Terrible shame.
-No.

He'd been looking
awfully good all year.

Come on.

Here they are.

About time. I said one o'clock,
not five past.

Go and have some of that
cheese. Mummy sent this up.

Talk to that man.

Say something clever.

Hello.
-Hello.

I'm a big fan of Virginia Woolf.

Have you read Orlando? You look
rather like The Bolter.

A sort of Home Counties version.

That's my mother.

I shouldn't think so.

You're much too old to be
a child of The Bolter.

Is she still with her white hunter?

What's all that hair on your nose?

My goodness.
-Fanny, is there a hair...?

Yes.

You got away lightly.

To the King.

Drink it all.

Two. Whoo.

This isn't really enjoyable.

A ghastly feeling of guilt is
beginning to give me...

a pain rather like indigestion.

Yes, me too. Every time
the door opens...

I'm sure Uncle Matthew's going
to be there cracking his whip.

OK...

I think we'd better go.

Yes.

Shall... shall we?
-Yes, I know.

Come on, baby.

Going to go?
-Yes.

Shush now.

You poor darling.

But you know that you have to
kiss a lot of frogs...

before you find your prince...

of Wales.

Fanny...

Fanny, help.

Love has increased threefold
in one short day.

But why?

I love him.

Linda, why?

Linda. Linda.

Linda.

Linda.

I have received a phone call...

telling me...

that someone has left a scarf...

in Tony Kroesig's rooms at Oxford.

Now we know -
you're not to be trusted.

So we'll have to take certain steps.

Fanny, you will go straight home.

Emily can... try to control you
in the future, if she can.

But you'll go the same way
as your mother The Bolter...

as sure as eggs is eggs.

Fa, you can't keep us
locked up forever...

we're practically middle-aged women.

Don't interrupt your father.
-Fanny is a scarlet woman...

that's what we'd have
called her in the old days.

I didn't even want to go.
-And as for you, miss.

You're worse, worse than
The Bolter, imagine that.

Please stop it about The Bolter.

No-one here is like her.
-It's all unfair...

because I always feel
like I'm the terrible person...

and then Linda always
seems so innocent.

I blame that depraved sewer Merlin.

Merlin's not depraved.

He travels abroad and reads books
and is sophisticated.

Travels abroad?
-Yes, and his house...

is beautiful and comfortable
and warm...

a place to live in, and not
some freezing medieval fortress...

to rush out from
and k*ll things all day.

I can't sit in a cupboard with
Fanny for the rest of my life.

Well, you won't have to, cos Fanny's
never coming back here again.

And there can be no
question of a London season now.

Fa, please.
-No.

We shall have to watch you every
minute of the day in future.

You're damn lucky
not to get a thrashing.

Now go to your rooms, both of you.

And you're not to speak
to each other before Fanny leaves.

Luckily, no-one will give them
a second glance now...

with that dreadful hair.

Goodbye, Fanny. Goodbye.

Goodbye, Linda.

We are unlucky to be us.

Bye, darling.

Of course,
we were allowed a London season.

The English upper-class
version of the puberty ritual...

finally happened.

Isn't it lovely to be lovely us?

We came out into the world...

18 years old
and ready for a husband.

Do you get up to Scotland much?

Care for nightclubs?

I say, have you come far?

We met last night
at William Stonor's.

Don't you remember?

No.

But Linda was still
in her dream of love for Tony.

And Tony was nowhere to be seen.

What's the point?

I missed my only chance
for happiness.

I'm going to be a sour...

wizened up, toothless old maid...

and die in a hole.

Me too.

We'll have each other
to dribble on at least.

Hello, Linda.

I've been looking
everywhere for you.

Really?

Shall I show you the balcony?

Yes.

Hello, darling.

You've got so tall.

Hello, Bolter.

Mummy.

I'm your mummy.

Was that Linda I just saw you with?

Yes.

No, it's such a mistake
to be friends with girls...

who are more beautiful
than one is, darling.

It's too dispiriting.
Who was she with?

Tony Kroesig.

Tony?

That won't last.

I want you to meet my friend, Colin.

He's so nice.

He's here somewhere.

What happened to your white hunter?

Dead. sh*t in the head
during a safari - too sad.

Well, at least
you didn't have to bolt.

Yeah, no. Yes, for once.

First one I lost respectably -
to death.

Fanny, dear, you're very funny.

I'm going to go and fetch
lovely Colin for you to meet.

Darling Colin,
everything about you is heaven.

I just want to spend
the whole night with you.

Goodness, let's.

Come, let's get out of here.

"Darling, I'm your mummy."

"Darling, I'm your mummy."

That bloody Hun
Kroesig has just telephoned.

He wanted to speak to you, Linda.

I told him to get
the hell out of here...

I don't want you mixed up
with any Germans...

do you understand?

Well, I am "mixed up".

As it happens, I'm engaged to him.

What did you...? Come here.

What did you...?
Come here, you.

Come here.

What did you say?

How dare you. What did you say?

What are you doing?
She just said she's engaged.

It wasn't just Uncle Matthew
who opposed the engagement.

Tony is Bottom
to Linda's Titania, isn't he?

He's ghastly.

A frightful Counter Hon.

Nothing will wake her up.

No. Not before it's too late.

Poor Linda.

She has an intensely
romantic character...

which is fatal for a woman.

And also what makes her
so completely irresistible.

Fortunately, most women
are madly matter-of-fact.

Otherwise, the world
could hardly carry on.

What am I, Davey?

You're you, Fanny.

You'll be all right.

Lord Merlin was braver
than the rest of us.

Are you pleased about my engagement?

No, of course not.
Why are you doing it?

We're in love.

And what makes you think so?

One doesn't think, one knows.

Fiddlesticks.

Well.

You evidently don't
understand a thing about love.

So what's the use in talking to you?

Love is for grown-ups,
as you'll discover one day.

You'll also discover...

that it's got nothing to do
with marriage.

I'm all in favour
of you marrying, if you so wish...

but for God's sake, not to a bore
like Tony Kroesig.

He's your friend.

If he's such a bore, why would
you bring him to my party?

I can't guess that you'll go
and marry every stopgap...

that comes to stay at my house.

Can't think why Merlin
says he's such a bore.

Tony knows everything.

Well, yes, that's exactly
it, he does.

At least he thinks he does.

Bother Merlin.

You know, I'm starting to think...

that Fa was right about
him all along.

He is a little depraved.

Don't you think?

I'm afraid I have to make Lavender
Davis chief bridesmaid.

But you'll be second.

She's Tony's cousin.

And she is responsible for us
getting together, after all.

Well, only most unwittingly.

Unwittingly or wittingly,
what does it matter?

Um...

Would you take my flowers for me?

Take my flowers for me, would you?

Hello, Fanny, darling.
-Come and have a champagne.

I'm so sorry.

Excuse me. Sorry.
-No, I'm sorry. Excuse me.

This...
-There you are.

Yes, thank you.
-That's all right.I...

Are you one of those
bright young things?

I don't know.
Would you like me to be?

Not particularly.

So...
-Fanny.

Yes?
-Let's talk about...

It's time, everyone's sitting down.

Yes, can we just, um, chat, Fanny?

Well, we will later - you have
to say hello to everyone.

Come on.

Get in.

Well... What do you think?

It's better than Louisa's, isn't it?

There's that at least.

I say, has anyone seen Linda?

Shh, shh, shh.
-I need to start my speech.

Darling, you'd better
get out and be the bride.

I know, I know.

Can we just stay for a second longer...

and just... chat and catch up?

Your train's poking out...

it's going to be quite
obvious you're in here.

Darling...

in my bitter determination
to grow up...

I'd forgotten we'd have
to stop being children.

Yes, there is that.

Can we still be toothless
old maids together?

Not really - you just got married.

Dear. I'm feeling a bit lost.

Are there really
to be no more Christmases...

at Alconleigh?

Linda.

Get out of there at once.

Tony's about to make his speech.

There she is.
Speak of the devil.

Come on, girl, get over here.

I love you.

Er, when I first met Linda...

she told me she was an Honourable...

the daughter of a baron...

spoke fluent French...

and rode to hounds
with the Bicester.

And I knew, right off the bat...

she was hellbent on marrying me.

Despite all that, I still
managed to fall for her.

Erm, you see, I think what...

what sealed the deal,
as we say in banking...
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