All language subtitles for House of cards (1995) - 03x02 - The Final cut.BluRay.x264-DEiMOS.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

The Margaret Thatcher Memorial.

Is there really no way of preventing it?

It would seem not.

It's all being paid
for out of a foundation.

The site was earmarked 15 years ago.

For a time, there seemed
some possibility

of putting it up in Grantham

where no one would have to look at it.

Except the unfortunate inhabitants.

Where is Grantham, anyway?

No one seems quite sure.

Couldn't the Arts Council do something?

You forget. We abolished it a year ago.

Yes. Department of National Heritage.

Not their pigeon, apparently.

The best we can hope for
is to keep the scale of that thing down

and plan a larger memorial of oneself
to stand nearby.

How is she to be represented?

- As the saviour of the Falklands.
- A small war in a godforsaken place!

A small war, but very serendipitous.

- Lucky for some, but not for others?
- Well, isn't that the way with wars?

A small war in Cyprus over 40 years ago,

and now the Cyprus settlement
will inscribe my name in history.

And the Cyprus oilfields
will provide my personal pension

if all our enterprises prosper.

The Urquhart Trust, a very comfortable
retirement plan for when the day comes.

Not yet, of course.
Lots more fun to be had before that.

Statement from the Chancellor
of the Duchy of Lancaster.

Madam Speaker, it gives me
the greatest pleasure to announce

that with the cooperation
of the Ministry of Defence

I am raising the embargo

on a large number of
War Office documents.

These documents date
from the early '50s to 1956

and contain a lot of
interesting material

about events in Cyprus, Egypt

and the Middle East generally.

Freedom of information is a hallmark
of good, democratic government

and I'd just like to say I'm very happy
to be able to add to its store today.

Mr Joe Badger.

If he's so keen
on freedom of information,

will he tell us how
he got his knees brown

and who paid for his last little trip
to the Philippines?

As I'm sure the Honourable Member knows,
my essential fact-finding trip...

My essential fact-finding trip
was funded jointly by my department

and the Filipino government

in the interests of
ethnically sensitive tourism.

Is that what they call it?

Fun without exploitation,

models of imaginative cooperation
between the First and Third World

of economic and cultural benefit to all.

Surely the Honourable Member
doesn't begrudge me a tan!

And in the strict interests
of open government

and freedom of information,

I'm prepared to inform
the Honourable Member

that I got a good deal more
than my knees brown.

I bet you did!

And furthermore, furthermore...

if he plays his cards right,
he might be allowed

to come along with me next time.

Order!

You might regret that.

Not from what I've heard!

Order! Order!

Mr Urquhart?

Hello. Do we know each other?

I believe you met my father
once in Cyprus, 1956.

I wrote to you about the war graves.
You said you'd help.

- Then I shall. What's your name?
- Passolides. Maria Passolides.

How do you do, Miss Passolides?

- Phone my secretary for an appointment.
- Thank you.

Well, goodbye for the present.

It was him.
We prove it now, prove it for certain.

Dad, it was over 40 years ago.
How can you be so sure?

I saw it happen.

I was there, but I couldn't stop it.

I saw him.

Those eyes. Pale, pale eyes.

But if you only saw him once...

That was enough. It was the same man.

I should have looked after my brothers.

You did your best, Dad.

They were my little brothers.

Nobody in the village
said nothing to me.

But you could see
what everyone was thinking.

"He should have looked
after his brothers."

How could I stay after that?

Are you quite sure you want to find out?

Yes.

Yes.

But when I know for certain
it was that man,

what can I do to punish him?

Oh!

Yes?

Mr Booza Pitt would like
to talk to you.

Yes, all right.

Come in, Geoffrey.

FU?

- All right?
- Perfectly, thank you.

That was a rather louche performance
you gave us this afternoon.

Yeah, it was a bit end of the pier,
but the chaps liked it.

I've had a bit of a shock since then.
Rather an unpleasant phone call.

- Newspapers?
- Not yet.

Francis, I'm awfully sorry,

but I've got myself
into a spot of bother.

- Sex or money?
- Bit of both, I'm afraid.

Let's have it, then.

My local party chairman is divorcing
his wife for adultery, citing me.

That's rather small beer for you.

You might have a slight
reselection problem.

He says he's going to
resign from the party

and take his story to the tabloids.

There are details, nothing too dreadful.
It's a bit embarrassing, though.

Oh, erm...

Uniforms and so on.
Doctors and nurses. Awfully harmless.

But there are photographs.

- Geoffrey, Geoffrey...
- You know me.

Anything else?

Er, well...

He says he's going to say
that I tipped off his wife

about some shares.

Brindox Chemicals.

- Ahead of the takeover?
- Yeah, obviously.

Otherwise there wouldn't be much point
in buying them. He should be grateful!

Francis?

I want you to write me
a letter of resignation

and I want it on my desk
within the hour!

Right.

I thought you might possibly...

Right.

Please, Francis, couldn't you just...

No, of course, you're right. I see that.

Please, Francis, I couldn't bear it,
out there in the cold.

Sign the letter, but don't date it.
What's this wretched man's name?

Tennent. Richard Porterhouse Tennent.

- Francis, I need hardly say...
- Sit down and shut up!

Get me a Richard Tennent,
local chairman, Hampshire Southeast.

Francis?

- You really are utterly contemptible.
- I wouldn't go that far.

No background, no bottom,

absolutely no informing
principle but the will to survive.

Just a plump little bag
of squirming appetites.

- Francis, that's a bit harsh.
- Shut up!

You thought you could endanger
my government with impunity

just because I may find
your company amusing

and smile at your little jokes?

I've been an utter fool.
I am an utter fool.

But, Francis, I've always been for you.

You've been my guiding light, my hero,
right from way back.

Look into your heart, Francis.
You know, I'd do anything for you.

Yes?

- Mr Tennent, sir.
- Good. Put him on.

Mr Tennent, Francis Urquhart.

Sorry to spring this on you,
but I wanted a confidential word.

You know you've been put up
for an honour for public

and political services?

No? Well, I think
you deserve something a little better.

A knighthood, in fact.

Yes.

Well, special people
don't always realise

how special they are.

There's a waiting list
of about 18 months

and all this must remain confidential.

You do understand that?

Good, but I shall be inviting you
and...Lady Tennent to dinner very soon.

Yes. Now, one last thing.

I'm sorry to have to ask you this,

but as this will be carrying
my personal recommendation,

the Scrutiny Committee isn't likely
to come across anything embarrassing?

Sadly, we've had one or two cases
where honours have had to be withdrawn.

Excellent.

Goodbye, then,
and my best regards to Lady Tennent.

We'll see you both very soon.

Bye-bye.

Francis, what can I say?

I still want that letter, Geoffrey.

I decide who comes and goes
from my cabinet and when.

Not the tabloids

and not some dreary little
constituency chairman.

All right, Geoffrey, off you go.

- Thank you, Francis. With all my heart.
- Yes, yes.

Oh, and, Geoffrey,

that was your knighthood
I bought him off with.

Oh, hello, Claire.

- You're looking gorgeous, as ever.
- Thank you, Geoffrey.

- How is he today?
- In cracking form. Never better.

Having a whale of a time.

Yes?

Claire!

- Do sit down.
- Thank you.

Well?

Is Geoffrey Booza Pitt OK?

He usually looks like the cat
that got the cream.

I think he just lost
one of his nine lives.

Why do you want to be
my Parliamentary Private Secretary?

I think I could do the job well.

I think I have the sort
of cleverness you need.

What sort of cleverness is that?

The Prime Minister's PPS
needs to be very well informed,

but a lot of it comes down to instinct,
being clever about people,

screening out the self-seekers,
lots more.

You realise that my PPS
is a spare set of brains for me?

You wouldn't be able to be seen
to have any political views of your own

and all your talents
would be at my disposal.

That's one of the attractions.

I'm not driven by burning visions
of a holy city.

I just love politics, you know.

I can't get enough of it.

Good.

Could I ask you something?

Why did you appoint
Barry Crumb to this job

and why did you keep
him on in it so long

when clearly he wasn't up to it?

As you're so clever about people,
perhaps you'd like to suggest an answer.

My guess is that you're extremely wary
about trusting people.

You prefer to appoint a fool to the job
rather than risk appointing a knave.

Very good.

Very near the mark.

So, erm...

What should I do this time?

You know what I'm going to say.

Appoint someone both
clever and trustworthy.

And trust her.

Could I trust you, Claire?

Yes, you could.

I'd like to take a little more time
to think about this. One last thing...

Is there anything
I should know about you

that might affect my decision?

Anything in your past life,
anything in your personal life?

The kind of thing that
if I found out about it later,

I might think I wish
I'd known about that

when I appointed her.

I've been having an affair
with Tom Makepeace.

Really?

Thank you for sharing that with me.

I felt in all fairness you should know.
You deserve absolute honesty from me.

I said you could trust me and you can.

Being clever about people,
you took the gamble that I knew already.

If I knew already and you lied about it,
you'd be utterly sunk.

Coming clean would limit
the damage at worst.

But what if I didn't know?

What if this were
the first time I'd heard of it

and you've just blurted it out
unnecessarily?

Well, that was the gamble,
that was the risk you had to take.

At worst, I'd think this woman is
a bit too open with herself,

a bit too honest to get on in politics.

But she's awfully sweet.

I don't want anyone
to think of me as sweet.

- Or devious.
- Don't you?

- Did you know I was having an affair?
- Of course!

I should imagine half Westminster knows.

It's the common gossip of the House.

And you think
I should engage you as my PPS

and make you privy
to all my thinking and decisions

while you're conducting a liaison
with the man who wants to chop me down?

You're clearly considering it seriously.

You're far too busy to get me up here
simply to embarrass and humiliate me.

That's very good, Claire.

You're thinking of gambling too,
that I might betray him to you.

And would you?

There's surprisingly little to betray.

He doesn't want to chop you down.
He admires you very much.

Does he? That's awfully good of him.

He wishes you valued him more.
He feels misunderstood.

Good God!

He's soft in the middle.
He's weak and sentimental. He's a loser.

If it came to a fight, you
could take him any time.

You could take any of them.

That's why I want to be with you.

But can I really trust her?

Why, with so much at stake,

should I feel this urge
to put myself at risk?

Why don't I just ditch
the pair of them now?

Unprofessional conduct,
palpable security risk,

selfish pursuit of private pleasure
at the expense of the public good

and the whole smug, hypocritical,

"Times" editorial slop
bucket of morality.

Nothing simpler, nothing safer.

Two at a stroke. Finish.

Right...

Yes?

Claire Carlsen, Francis Urquhart.

I thought you'd like
to know the job is yours.

That's absolutely confidential.

Don't tell anyone else
for the time being.

No, of course not.

Thank you.

It's...

Forgive me, it's...rather a shock.
I convinced myself I'd blown it.

Yes, I rather surprised myself.
Goodnight.

Yes!

Sometimes the safe thing
is just too safe and sensible.

Some games are just
too interesting to resist.

You haven't picked the best year
for record-keeping in Cyprus.

October 1956 was Suez and Cyprus
turned into one big transit camp,

whole regiments coming through.

The last thing anyone worried about
was paperwork.

You might be lucky, though.

- There. Troodos Mountains.
- Are you sure?

- I was there.
- We'd like to see this one.

7438. "Report on security situation
and EOKA resistance interception

"in the Troodos Mountains,
April to October 1956."

OK. The search may take
at least an hour.

It's never been digitally referenced.

That's all right. We'll wait.

Go and have a coffee.
I'll give you a bleep when we find it.

- Thank you very much.
- All mod cons. Coffee shop's that way.

The coffee's a bit crap,

but they do lemon tea.
That's quite good.

I thought I'd mention it.
Cyprus and so on.

- Thanks.
- You're very welcome.

- How long have you got?
- Ten minutes. You didn't have to cook.

I love to cook. I love to cook for you.

This is about the only chance I get.

I wish we had time
for a bloody great blowout!

There you go.

- What about you?
- I'm fine. Go on, eat.

Look...

This is a bit awkward.

I think we ought to let this
cool off for a while.

- What do you mean?
- People know about us.

- Besides Hilary?
- So I understand.

From whom?

- Geoffrey Booza Pitt hinted at it.
- How does he know?

Does it matter?
If he knows, everybody knows.

Hell!

If he's telling people about us,

it's best it isn't true,
for the time being.

Or come out in the open.
Let them do the worst they can.

You know I'd never leave Bjorn.
I told you right from the start.

And you'd never leave Hilary.

I don't know. Might be
the best thing for her,

as well as me.

- There's something else.
- What?

It's absolutely confidential.
I haven't told Bjorn.

What is it?

Francis Urquhart has asked me
to be his PPS.

- And you've accepted?
- Yes, of course.

Don't look at me like that, Tom.

I'm ambitious.
It's the fast lane to promotion.

Is that all it is for you?
I thought you wanted

to change things for the better.

I do. I just need
to get myself a foothold.

It isn't easy for a woman, Tom.

This is the chance to make myself
a power base

and when I've got it,
I'll use it for good.

- You said you loved me.
- I do.

And you couldn't imagine life
without me. Cool off?

Tom, you're the best.

The very best for me.

You give pure gold.

It's just that it's a bit...

..a bit bloody awkward
at the moment, Tom.

That's all.

"From the information received,
I arranged to meet my contact

"at the red rocks above Spilia village.
I was attacked by rifle fire..."

- Bloody liar!
- "There were two, possibly three men.

"I took cover, returned fire"

"and managed to shoot
both the terrorists dead."

He murdered them in cold blood!
My brothers.

"I was unable to identify the gunmen.

"They had nothing
to enable me to make the identification.

"I had to consider
the risks of reprisal,"

"so I buried the bodies
at map reference..."

And there's no signature.

It was him.

- This is a photocopy?
- Yes.

- So there'll be an original?
- Probably at the Ministry of Defence.

They won't release it
till well after everyone's dead

to protect the identity
of British personnel still living.

They're keen not to upset people.

Yeah, I bet they are!

Update on the Cyprus talks, Tom.

Prime Minister,
I thought you'd taken it off my hands.

No, you do the hard work
and I take the credit.

I think we all know that.

It's an arrangement
that works very well.

Well, I keep in constant touch
with both sides and I remain optimistic.

Dimitri Nicolaou and Yassa Yunis

are exceptionally
enlightened politicians,

both prepared to bury
decades of bitter strife.

It's been almost 25 years
since the Turkish invasion

and a Greek Cypriot can see a Turk
living in what he regards as his house.

Nicolaou has to deal very tactfully

with a lot of very fierce
nationalist opposition.

A lot depends on the final details
of the border demarcation.

If that's seen by all sides
as fair and equitable...

A British judge
will make damn sure it is.

I trust and pray that he will.

This Cyprus settlement
is very close to my heart.

In more ways than one.

Which reminds me

it's timeto do a little
priming of the pension plan.

There he is over there.

Oh, yes, I remember now.
Rather a nice man.

Rather a useful man, I hope. Be careful.

He's very sharp on the nuances
and utterly incorruptible.

You go and chat to your new prot�g�e.
I can handle this.

Good hunting.

Hello.

I'm Elizabeth Urquhart.

We did meet briefly
at a do at Mansion House,

but you probably won't remember me.

Of course I do. Clive Watling.

Oh, yes!
It was on the tip of my tongue.

Now, you're the er...

Don't tell me, it's coming.

You're the judge,
the international judge.

The most distinguished
international judge in Europe,

my husband tells me.

Should I be frightened of you?
Not unless I've done something wrong!

Exactly.

So...what's it like?

Are you actually doing
any of it at the moment?

Judging, I mean.

I'm so frightfully ignorant
about the law.

I sort of picture you
sitting in judgment

over some frightful
international criminal

like that chap in "Batman",

but I suppose it's rather
more cerebral than that.

It can be like that,

but more typically one arbitrates
in some international negotiation.

Just now it's Cyprus,
finalising the sea boundaries,

fishing rights and so on.

Cyprus! That must be a tricky one.

Not especially. The area of difference
is clear and not very large.

There's a certain amount
of ritual posturing to endure.

The French are often prone to that
and this case is no exception.

And all that oil
must complicate things too.

What oil? There isn't any oil.
Not in significant amounts.

We have the most recent seismic surveys.
Oil's not part of the picture.

But didn't the French
have another survey done,

all very hush-hush?

I'm sure I heard something about it.
Perhaps I wasn't supposed to.

Apparently there's oodles of the stuff.

If it goes to the Greek side,

the French will have
the exploitation rights.

Something like that.

But wouldn't that make things
very difficult for a French judge?

You know, to remain impartial and so on?

Yes, it would. It should.

Oh, I do hope
I haven't complicated things.

I was sure you would know all about it.

I've rather put my foot in it.

No, not at all.

I have to deal with the facts
as they're presented to me as evidence.

And I shall. One or two things
have just become clear.

Oh, I really am awful.

Still a blurter after all these years!

- Please say you'll forgive me.
- Yes, of course.

You weren't to know.

I'd like to talk to you
about Tom Makepeace, Claire.

Yes, I thought you would.

It's all right. Of course
I'll stop seeing him.

I was ready to end it in any case.

Tom doesn't handle these things well

and if half Westminster
knows about it...

I exaggerated.

If I said that I would prefer it

if you didn't cut off
from him completely,

would that make life
impossibly difficult for you?

Not impossibly difficult, no.

I haven't gone off him or anything.
Not in the physical sense.

Quite the reverse, in fact.

We're extraordinarily
well attuned in that respect.

You want me to spy on him?

I want to know what he really wants.

No one could be as selfless
as he purports to be.

- What does he say to you?
- We don't talk about politics much.

- That's not what we're about.
- Claire, what does he say about me?

The whole truth, now!

He doesn't like you,
but that won't surprise you.

He admires your ability,
but thinks you've used it to wrong ends.

He thinks your policy on Europe
could lead to England's isolation.

He thinks you're past it, in decline.

Too old to cut the mustard.

Only one question remains.

Is he going to challenge
for the leadership and if so, when?

- I don't know.
- Find out!

Oh, you know...

I really thought I'd lost you.

I couldn't...

I couldn't bear the thought
of not doing this,

not giving you all...

It feels so good.

So this is cooling off?

Being sensible, is it?

Don't mock me!

I can't help it if I'm hooked on you.

Oh, God!

You're so lovely.

I'm so lucky.

We are.

Oh, we are lucky!

Does he know about us?

I really don't think I care.

I'm sure he doesn't have much interest.

He's so cold-blooded,
he's like an old lizard on a rock,

those pale eyes flickering!

I think he's quite scared of you, Tom.

He's never shown me much sign of it.

You're far less dangerous to him
inside the cabinet than outside.

He'd love to sack you,
but he's scared that if he did...

I'd go for the party leadership?

Everyone knows you could win
the next election.

You're far more popular now than he is.

You know what?

Foreign Secretary.

That's all I ever wanted.

But if he continues to interfere,

if he undoes
all those patient achievements,

if he stops me doing my job,

then I'll bloody well have his!

Yes!

And you might communicate that to him

in that...tactful way

you PPSs...cultivate.

I'll try.

Oh, Tom!

I'm so glad you said that.

I think you should challenge,
and the sooner the better for all of us.

I really thought
you'd gone over to his side.

How could I do that?

You're in my heart, Tom.

You're in my bones.

- Mrs Carlsen, have you a moment?
- Later.

He'll take any shit you hand out
so long as he can keep his job.

What if I take his job away from him?

He might feel he had to fight you then.

What should I do, Claire?

Don't ask me that about Tom.
Not after all we've had together.

What would you do in my place?

Get rid of him.

Elizabeth?

Oh! Thank you.

Forgive me, Francis...

Is what you're considering wise?

I haven't made up my mind yet.

Francis, you might do something
on a whim or in a flash of temper.

- All the more fun.
- Think, Francis. Remember Stamper.

You underestimated him,

his capacity for malice,
resentment, revenge.

You thought he was your creature,
but he turned against you.

Ultimately Stamper underestimated me,
but this case is entirely different.

Makepeace was never my creature.

He's a disruptive influence,
totally isolated in the cabinet.

Not in the parliamentary party
or in the country.

If you humiliate him in the reshuffle,
he'll turn against you.

Leave him where he is
and he has to make supportive noises.

In public at any rate.

Wait until he does something

to make himself less popular,
then be rid of him.

That would be sensible.

One wonders if your new girl
is giving you the best advice.

She's not just telling you
what you want to hear, I hope?

One doesn't detect
the tiniest trace of jealousy, does one?

Hardly, Francis.

A little pique perhaps
because I didn't choose her for you.

But overwhelmingly concerned
for your welfare, your security.

These final years should be a triumphant
consolidation, not a desperate struggle.

You're not suggesting that a contest
between Makepeace and myself

would be a desperate struggle?

I can take the man any time I like.

Of course you could.

What thrillingly pugnacious language!

But why put yourself
to all that trouble?

After all, it's not as if
you had anything to prove.

I think I'll go up, Francis.

Well, I won't be very long.

Of course she's right.

I have nothing to prove
and I have nothing to fear.

No one can threaten me now.
No one is left who can threaten me now.

Mattie gone, Stamper and Sarah gone,

Roger O'Neill,
with his brave, terrified smile, gone.

All gone.

No one knows anything
that could possibly damage me,

except Corder and Elizabeth.

And myself.

So what do I have to fear...

..but fear itself?

You're very privileged. I don't know
anyone else who's invited up here.

- I'm still waiting for my invitation.
- It's his own private roof garden?

Not quite. In theory, any MP can use it,

but the Prime Minister comes up here
when he needs to be alone

to think something through,
and doesn't welcome any intrusions.

There's a tragic story.

A young journalist he befriended
killed herself up here.

Jumped off the roof.
He saw it happen, couldn't stop her.

That was before he was Prime Minister.

- He still likes to go there?
- He's not like other people.

Your connection with him is Cyprus?

I'm trying to help my father
find out about his brothers

who were killed there in '56.

He'll help you.
He's very interested in Cyprus.

Prime Minister! Here's Miss Passolides.

- Thank you, Claire.
- Thank you.

Miss Passolides!
I hope you didn't mind all those stairs.

No, not at all.

What an extraordinary place this is!

One likes to get away now and then,
get above it all.

I like to imagine
that the air is a little purer up here.

I was born in the Highlands of Scotland.

One could stand on the rocks,

see ten miles and not
another living soul!

Sometimes I think I was a complete fool
to come into politics,

but, well, here we are.

I'm very grateful for this.
Very surprised too.

I'm not one of your supporters.

I guessed something of the kind
and it's completely immaterial.

It's my privilege
and my pleasure to serve you,

whether you voted for me or not.

Whatever else you may have done
or not done,

the Cyprus settlement was
a wonderful achievement.

Thank you. It's very close to my heart.

I love Cyprus, the island, the people.

I didn't always meet them
in the happiest of circumstances.

Some of my memories of that place
are rather painful to recall now.

Did you go there on national service?

No, I took a short service commission -
three years instead of two.

I was only 19
when I first went out there.

Very naive, idealistic, passionate
about Greek culture and language.

- You speak Greek?
- It's a bit rusty now.

- That's very good.
- One or two bits stick in the mind.

Did you gather information
on EOKA resistance

or did you capture them?

No, nothing so dramatic,
I assure you, Maria.

Someone who spoke Greek
would have been useful in interrogation.

No, I was lucky enough
to miss all that kind of thing.

Our problem...
I don't know if you can help...

We're trying to locate
my uncles' graves.

They were killed in a skirmish
in the Troodos Mountains above Spilia.

- I see.
- We went to the Public Records Office.

We found a copy
of the official report on the incident,

but the name of the officer in charge
was blanked out.

Yes, I see.

The clerk said it's likely
there is a more detailed account,

perhaps on a secret file
at the Ministry of Defence.

We don't want to stir up trouble.

I just want to set
my father's mind at rest.

I understand.

So much unfinished
business from that time.

And later in 1974
when the Turks invaded.

- That's when I lost my mother.
- So much blood.

So much sorrow.

- Will you let me see what I can do?
- Yes. You're very kind.

It's the least I can do.
I wish it could be more.

Yes, I believe you. Thank you.

I've just had a telephone call
from Mr Nures.

The judges have decided
on the sea boundaries. They split 50/50.

And Sir Clive has given his casting vote
to the Turkish side.

Excellent.
Thanks in no small measure to you.

- To the future.
- To the Urquhart Trust.

- To our personal pension plan.
- Happy days.

Sorry. Frightfully sorry,
Prime Minister.

Was that a political point, Polecutt?

Good God, no.
A spasm of cramp, Prime Minister. Sorry.

Spasm of cramp.

Order! Questions to the Prime Minister.

Mr Hugh Pugh.

Does the Prime Minister
have any thoughts to share with us

on the eve of
another crucial European summit,

particularly about
when he'll do something practical

to make Europe work efficiently?

For example, if he believes
in a single market as he says he does,

why does he turn his back
on a single currency?

When is he going to put his money
where his mouth is?

The Honourable Gentleman
makes an excellent point

and I agree with him.

We all want an effective
single market in Europe.

I'm not sure that
destroying the image

of our young king on
the coin of the realm,

with all the disrespect
to the monarchy

that implies,
will bring Utopia any closer,

but the Honourable Gentleman believes it
and who am I to argue him

into common sense and sanity?

Let me say this to him, however.

It is my conviction
that we can do most good for Europe

by being resolutely British,

by showing Europe the way to go,
rather than trotting at Europe's heels.

Europe has a great deal more to
learn from the cradle of democracy

than it has to teach us,

and if the Honourable Gentleman
doesn't believe that,

perhaps he should be rustling
sheep in the border country

like his ancestors.

Order! Order! Order!

Prime Minister.

If we want to build
a really efficient single market,

here is a proposal I intend to suggest
to my fellow leaders at the summit.

A single language for Europe.

The waste of money
in dealing in a multitude of languages

must run into billions,
measured in whatever currency you will,

waste, confusion, misunderstanding.

Clearly we need to be able
to speak with one voice.

I suppose it's just
one of those accidents of history

that the only possible language
is English.

Order! Order!

- How was I?
- I've never seen anything like it.

You were completely bloody impossible!

Thank you. It pays to be
completely impossible from time to time.

Put a bit of stick about,
show them what's what, just for badness!

- So you don't want a single language?
- It wouldn't be a bad idea.

But it was just a bit of mischief.

It'll hold up that single currency
nonsense for a while

and be worth a few per cent in the polls
and it'll make some people angry.

Not bad for five minutes' work!

All right, let's be serious.

I'd like to run a few thoughts past you
on the reshuffle.

Who wins, who loses,

how we stick it to them,
placing the leaks.

Liaise with Geoffrey.

Hello, Tom. How's tricks?

Francis, I'd like a few words
in private.

That won't be necessary, Tom.

My PPS is very discreet,
as I'm sure you know.

- Look, I think it would be better if...
- Stay where you are, Claire.

You have a job to do.

Sorry about that, Tom.
What was it you wanted exactly?

What the hell were you playing at?

For the sake of a few cheap cracks,

you put everything
we've done in jeopardy!

What will our European partners think
of that performance?

You make it impossible for me
to do my job.

I build up relationships of trust
over years patiently

with serious professionals,

international statesmen,
and you throw it away! What for?

To get on the front page of the "Sun"?

Don't take it so seriously.

And it's not all
Queensberry Rules in Europe.

Occasionally, one needs a bit of pepper
on the gloves.

That's not good enough.

You can't screw around
with foreign policy

without consulting me!

It seems I can,
but in future the problem won't arise.

I have come to a momentous decision

and I'm glad you're the first
to hear the news.

- You're resigning?
- No, Tom, you are.

As Secretary of State
for Foreign Affairs.

I want to keep your talent
in the government,

but you're a bit too influenced
by your continental chums

with their baccalaureates
and their Mercedes.

I thought you might like
to take a stab at Education.

Some might see that as a step down,
but it's right up your street.

You could have long chats
with teachers about the meaning of life

and Plato's "Republic" and all that.

I should imagine
you would enjoy that, Tom.

You bastard!

Education doesn't appeal, then?

- Did you think I'd accept?
- No, but it was worth a try.

- It's that or nothing.
- I choose nothing.

Up to you.

Tom...

You will put it in writing, won't you?

- You'll regret this, Francis.
- Well, now, I wonder if I shall.

- Sorry.
- No good in knocking the press about.

It wasn't our fault this time.
What did you think of his performance?

Unnecessary?

Don't fancy a comment, do you,
on or off the record?

Yes, I thought it was outrageous.
The last straw, in fact.

I've just given him my resignation.

Good one, Tom. One day, eh?

- You're not serious?
- Dicky, get your chaps together.

Meet me in the lobby room in 15 minutes.
I'll be making a statement.

- Right.
- Tell them it'll be well worth it.

Right!

Thank you all for coming along
at such short notice.

This afternoon I resigned
as Foreign and Commonwealth Secretary

and the Prime Minister
accepted my resignation.

I shall make a full statement
to the House next week,

but the reason for my resignation

is that "areas of
disagreement on policy,

"in particular in Europe,

have made it very difficult
for this government

"to maintain a consistent position
vis-�-vis our neighbours

"and have made it impossible for me
to do my job as Foreign Secretary,

"a job I've always aspired to and which
I relinquish with bitter regret."

That's all.

And you're not moving
to another government post?

- That's right, I'm not.
- Were you offered another post?

- Yes.
- Which one?

- No comment.
- You sound bitter and angry, Tom.

Would that be fair comment?
Are you angry?

Yes, I'm extremely...

bitterly disappointed.

OK, I'm angry that I've been
forced to resign

from a job I've loved doing.

- So what are your plans now?
- Go home and relax.

Enjoy my first weekend in ten years
with no red boxesI

But in the longer term, well,
I shall make a full statement next week.

Tom, it's known that your
major areas of disagreement

are with the Prime Minister.

You said some of his speeches
have been irresponsible

and embarrassing
to our European neighbours.

Would you say it's time
for Francis Urquhart to step down now?

That's really not for me to say.

Come on, Tom. Should he go?

Well, in his own words,
you might very well think that.

- I could not possibly comment.
- You bastard!

Thomas Makepeace commenting
on his shock resignation today

from the post of Foreign Secretary.

Bastard! He'll be dangling in the wind
before I've done with him!

- I did warn you.
- What can he do? He's not a fighter.

He's soft in the middle.
He's a sentimental dreamer.

I can take him any time I like.

Of course you can, my dear.
Of course you can.