All language subtitles for The Haunting of Bly Manor - 01x03 - The Two Faces, Part One.LAZY+ION10+P2P+Telly.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --

He's awake!

He's awake.

- Oh, thank God.
- He's awake. He's awake.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Most certainly isn't.

Little hair of the dog...

... and your ten o'clock.

No one before noon.

Oh, no you don't.

You insisted.

Even if you begged, you said,
we had to get this one done.

Ugh. Christ.

The nanny.

Au pair. Here.

Au pair.

Miss Jessel.

I'm Peter Quint. I work with Henry.

Mr. Quint.

Uh, no...

So... so, uh, you have
a stain. Right there.

Oh.

Do... do you need a minute?

No.

Good now.

He will notice, you know.

Okay.

- Please.
- Thank you.

Mr. Wingrave,

this is Rebecca Jessel.

I just read about your win

in the Baker case,

and my hat's off.

Read where?

The Telegraph, of course.

Mm.

You have a stain on your blouse.

The children are, what?

Seven and nine?

Mm.

I expect being precious about
blouses won't serve me well.

Quite.

The agency has told you about
our circumstances, I trust?

Yes, and I'm dreadfully
sorry about your loss. I...

can only imagine what those
poor children have been...

- I don't have my reading glasses, Peter.
- Of course.

Your references are impeccable.

University of London, School of
Oriental and African Studies.

You went to SOAS?

Mm.

Just for a Russian poetry course.

And your time at London
School of Economics.

That's hardly a bastion
of Russian or bards.

Finding my way through Public Law.

Mm.

The surprises continue.

So...

why apply for a nanny job

if your ambitions lie elsewhere?

I suppose I don't look at this that way.

I've always been good
at it, to be honest.

I have an inquiring mind.

I ask questions of myself and of
the world around me every day,

and that's what I love
to nurture in children.

I trust that won't be
a problem, Mr. Quint.

So, what do you think?

Au pair.

Um, that's correct. That was
the primary focus for today.

You called it a nanny job.

Did I?

That was my mistake.

Nonsense, Peter. We both know
you don't make mistakes.

You're sure this is him?

Oh, absolutely.

I also saw him yesterday,
on the parapet.

Hannah says his name is Peter Quint.

- They know who he is.
- Oh, I remember Quint, all right.

Figured he'd be half a world
away, on a beach somewhere.

Uh, children, why don't
you go upstairs, please?

- But...
- No, no arguments. Up you go.

Go on.

Quint drained one of Mr. Wingrave's
bank accounts last year.

Over 200,000 pounds.

Hard to believe he'd come
back to steal the silverware.

Anyone else see him?

Well, no, I-I didn't, but...

I'm sure she's right.

The children?

No, they didn't either.

Well, I did a sweep,
and I didn't see anything.

I suppose my lights scared him off.

Whomever he was.

Lock your doors, lock your windows,

and give us a call if you see him again.

Not much else we can
do for now, I'm afraid.

So, um, that's it?

I did a sweep.

I'm not sure what else
you'd like me to do.

Um...

Anything, really.

Look...

I did a sweep.

Peter's a bit of a shit...

... but he's not dangerous.

He's a thief.

Just don't give him access
to your bank accounts,

and you're probably all right.

I'll call Mr. Wingrave as well.

Uh, see if he can offer
any other advice.

He expected rather a
lot from the police,

if memory serves me correctly.

And he's probably still in
touch with your superior.

I'll take another drive
around the property...

... on my way out.

Ma'am.

- Are you really gonna call Henry?
- I am, but he's two hours away.

I'm calling Owen, and Jamie.

Where are you going with that?

I'm gonna do my own sweep.

Mr. Quint.

Lovely to see you again.

The pleasure's mine, Miss Jessel.

There's not many stations

that come in along this
stretch, I'm afraid.

Off then, if you don't mind.

So...

were you for or against me?

Oh, you think that matters?

Well...

you said you work with Mr. Wingrave,

but it certainly felt
like your interview.

Well, I had to hire you.

I mean, I'm already the gofer,
the chauffeur, and the nursemaid.

If I didn't hire you,
I'd be the nanny, too.

Sir Henry's a bit of a mess, then?

He's a good man.

He's having a bad stretch, that's all.

What have I gotten myself into, exactly?

Well, the children are clever,

- if a bit strange.
- Mm-hm.

Boy is a bit of a dark horse,

and the girl, she talks
to the wallpaper.

I mean, more...

how are they coping?

I mean, after all they've been through.

You know, it's...

I mean, their parents didn't come home.

That's all.

They don't comprehend much beyond that.

Why, hello there.

What a gorgeous flower you
are. What's your name?

I'm Flora.

That means flower. Latin.

Of course it does.

- And you must be Miles.
- Hi there.

Let me guess, you ought to be
our very own Mary Poppins.

Well, I'm not practically perfect,

but I am...

perfectly splendid.

- Hannah Grose.
- Rebecca.

- It's lovely to meet you.
- Lovely to meet you too.

Ah, this is Owen.

- Lovely to meet you, Owen.
- And our...

- Jamie.
- Hello.

You shouldn't be smoking.

Ay, you're right.

Do you like that?

Just flip...

... and click.

- There.
- I'll show you everything.

You must see the statue garden.

Let Miss Jessel settle in before you...

It's all right.

All right.

The statue garden is my favorite.

There are flowers, of course.

And much more.

And they're all...

perfectly splendid.

Miss Jessel found herself,

as she walked the grounds
of Bly for the first time,

wishing that she might never leave.

And it turned out...

... she never would.

- Jesus!
- Jesus!

Shot plenty of rats with it.

More than happy to add Peter
fucking Quint to the tally.

- Not a fan, I take it.
- You don't know the half.

I'm learning.

You got the right idea.

I think it's a teachable moment for him.

You looked down there yet?

Hannah must have left 'em burning.

She's always lighting
and forgetting 'em.

The place will burn
down one of these days.

Let's go.

No sign of Parapet Pete.

Do you want hot chocolate?

My skin's crawling thinking
he might be out there.

How about we stay here
tonight? Just in case.

- Yes! A sleepover.
- That would be fun.

- That would be splendid.
- A sleepover. That would be fun.

What about your mum?

It's just for one night.
She's already fast asleep.

It's better I'm here.

- Just in case you-know-who shows up.
- That would be great.

You haven't touched your
hot chocolate, Mrs. Grose.

Can I have it?

- Uh, no, you'll be up all night.
- Yes!

- Let's stay up all night!
- Flora.

This is all so exciting!

We're going to stay up all night long,

and it's going to be perfectly...

What on earth would possess him to
show his face around here again?

It can't be for more money, surely.

He can't have got through
what he stole already.

Oh, no, thanks, love.

One of us needs to be sober
enough to take him on.

You want the poker or the shotgun?

Mm. Candlestick in the library.

Here you go.

What if he's the one
who's been ringing here...

then hanging up? Hm?

I thought those were prank calls.

Well, maybe not.

Who would he be trying to call?

Maybe Becca.

Why would he call a dead woman?

He might not know she's dead.

She certainly wasn't big
news outside the county.

He might not know a thing.

Or maybe he spent all the money, or...

had second thoughts.

Or maybe he misses her.

So...

he calls the house now and then,

hoping she'll pick up, which...

... she never does.

So...

he comes on back...

to find out why.

Well, that doesn't bode well for anyone.

I wouldn't fancy being there

when Peter Quint finds out
Rebecca Jessel is dead.

- So, are these two friends?
- Yeah.

They're friends.

- Best friends.
- Mm-hm.

Dolls are ridiculous.

Dolls are wonderful.

You get to make up all kinds of
people and tell stories with them.

Hello, my name is Flora.

But they're not made up.

I'll make one of you, Miss Jessel.

What's your favorite color?

Hmm.

I don't have a favorite.
I like all the colors.

Then I'll make you one
with all the colors.

Thank you.

Come in!

Am I interrupting?

Ah, I'm here on an errand
for Sir Henry, and...

... well, I found these,

and I thought flowers this beautiful
deserve a beautiful woman.

So, these are for you, Flora.

Thank you so much.

They're perfectly splendid.

No one's ever given me flowers before.

And I thought they were for Miss Jessel.

And now you're so dreadfully jealous.

Well, we can share, can't we, Flora?

Of course.

Have a flower, please.

Aww.

Well, thank you, Flora.

Let's go and put these
in some water, okay?

Be right back.

You didn't rip up Jamie's
garden, did you?

She'll be cross if you did.

Ah, that one was born cross.

I don't know why Flora gets so
silly about a few stupid flowers.

Do you know what life is
really all about, Miles?

- Not flowers.
- No.

Keys.

See...

people are like locked rooms.

They've all got different locks,

and you've got to guess
the shape of their key.

Like how there are...

keys to all the doors in this
pointlessly, excessively large house.

Different keys for different doors.

So, if you want someone to open a door,

you have to try out different keys
until you find the one that works.

Like...

for people like your uncle...

His key is money.

Or flattery.

For horses, it's carrots.

And for women, most of them...

... it's flowers.

Then why did you give
the flowers to Flora?

I didn't.

Still at it?

- I'm just about done.
- Mm-hm.

Not looking forward
to going out in that.

Uh, then don't.

Have some tea while it blows over.

Okay.

So, how are you finding it?

It's a fine job, really.

Uh, yes.

The kids are very sweet,

even if I'm mopping up their
muddy footprints sometimes.

Twice now they've snuck out
in the middle of the night.

No, I mean, how are
you finding all this?

I mean, living in a mansion,

the statue gardens,
ordering servants about,

this ridiculousness.

I mean, I'm...

hardly lady of the manor.

Uh, I spent the morning cleaning
vomit off the boy's jumper.

I'm sorry, that's not funny.

One like you, as smart as you are.

Well, it's offensive even.

It's fine.

Um, Miles is a sweetheart.

Surely, that's not what you wanted.

I mean, I can't imagine
a young Rebecca Jessel

looking out her window, dreaming
up at the sky that someday,

someday, she'd be scrubbing
up some rich kid's puke

while his guardian drinks
himself into a coma.

You're too good for that.

Too good.

And too smart.

I don't care if Henry
can't see it, I can.

I saw it the day you walked in.

I said to him, "One day,
I might be working for her."

Tell me what you want.

I mean, everybody wants
something in life,

and somehow our betters have
convinced us that's a bad thing.

So, what do you want, Rebecca?

I want to be a barrister.

Now you're talking.

Not a solicitor.

A proper barrister, like Mr. Wingrave.

But, first, I need a pupilage.

Three other women from my
year managed to get one,

and all left within the first year.

A sea of old men trying to
run a hand up your skirt

every day for six months

while you try to persuade
them that your brain

isn't between your legs.

So, you took a different route?

I mean, your references,
they're impeccable.

Astor's, Bryce's, Gray's of Norfolk.

People like that get to know you,

see the brain power and ingenuity
just taking care of their heirs.

But now...

... now you have their wife
or child fetching for you.

And you remain focused,
you keep on impressing...

... you leap right over
all those grabbing hands

and find someone of worth to mentor you.

Henry is a QC and a master
in trade legislation,

but you knew that when
you applied, didn't you?

I see you, Rebecca.

I see you.

So...

... why are you here?

Why am I here, uh...

on this Earth?

Why am I here in this job
working for Henry, or, uh...

why am I here with you

when I was meant to be back
in London an hour ago?

Let's take them one at a time.

Why am I here on this Earth?

Uh, to make sure I leave
behind more than I took.

Why am I here in this
job working for Henry?

Because you may not know
it to look at me, but...

there is a ceiling that I, too,
cannot break through.

Growing up where I did,

I'm quite simply not part
of the fucking club.

So...

... why am I here?

I don't know.

But I feel...

... hopeful.

And that doesn't happen
often, not to me.

I should go. I'm sorry. Uh...

- Are you sure? It... it's still...
- No, it-it's fine.

The worst has passed.

But thank you, uh, for the
drink, and the company.

You're welcome.

Thank you...

for the conversation.

It's been a long time since
I've had a real one.

Good night, Rebecca Jessel.

Good night, Peter Quint.

Hey, you all right?

Hm?

Oh, God, I'm so sorry.

If truth be told, I haven't
slept well for days.

Well, Mrs. Grose, it is too late now.

Come on.

Tuck in and relax for a bit.

Rather that was you curled up there?

Every girl in the
village is mad for him.

He doesn't even know it,
which makes it even worse.

They look like Bonnie and Clyde.

Yeah...

if Clyde fucked Bonnie over.

He got away.

She paid the price.

So, what? He's stalking a dead woman?

Risking prison for someone he
didn't even bother to bring along?

That doesn't make sense.

The wrong kind of love can fuck you up.

Follow you.

Make you do some really stupid shit.

And those two...

... believe me, that was
the wrong kind of love.

We've all been in the wrong kind
of love for one reason or...

Mm-hm. But I saw how he
twisted himself into her.

Burrowed in deep.

I know why so many people mix
up love and possession...

But guess what that means?

He didn't just trap her.

He trapped himself.

And I hope she haunts
that fucker forever.

People do, don't they?

Mix up love and possession.

Yeah, they do.

I don't think that should be possible.

I mean, they're opposites, really.
Love and ownership.

Yeah.

They really ought to be in bed.

Oh, yes.

Yes, yes.

- I'll take them.
- Okay.

Up you go.

Thank you.

You're the coolest.

- I had a bad dream.
- Oh.

I hurt you.

- And it made you feel sad.
- Oh, you never make me sad, poppet.

Do you have any hearts?

No.

What a liar you are! I can see
two of them, right there!

Stop peeking at my cards, Miles!
Miss Jessel, he's cheating!

- You're lying, and that's cheating!
- It's not!

Stop cheating, Miles.

Peter!

What are you doing here?

And, more importantly, have you
brought me any more flowers?

Uh, no. Uh...

I've got some errands
to do for your uncle,

so he sent me here for
at least a few days.

- Days?
- That's right.

Mrs. Grose is making up a
room for me as we speak.

Will Uncle Henry come over soon?

I don't know.

What's with the face?

Nothing.

You know, I lost my dad too.

I was a bit older than you.

And he was pretty crap
most of the time, but...

You've seen this, right?

This belonged to my dad.

It's a little piece of him.

One of the only nice bits, really.

Why don't you...

hold on to it for me?

Would you like that?

Just don't burn the house down, please.

Let's play some cards!

You just need to watch out,

because Miles is a filthy cheater.

- Is that right?
- But otherwise...

it's perfectly splendid.

Yes, and you're perfectly mental.

Stop it, Miles!

Sorry, I shouldn't have. Uh...

I-I couldn't sleep, and, uh...

Good morning.

Oh... good morning.

A-Any sign of him?

Oh, uh, no, not a thing.
Did a quick sweep.

- Safe as houses.
- Oh.

But you know what? I think
Mr. McQueeny next door

could look in on Mum today.

I can call him and, uh, stick
around here, just in case.

No, no, really. I'd feel just awful.

Oh, it's only one day.

And I'm sure she can
use a day without me.

It might make all the
difference, really.

Well, thank you for
coming to our rescue.

Well, you always come to mine.

Good morning, it's time to wake...

Oh, you're already up.

How are you feeling?

Capital. Wonderful, in fact.

Can we have a picnic, do you think?

It's a marvelous day for it.

Once we find Flora,
let's make a day of it.

What do you mean, find Flora?
Isn't she in her room?

Flora?

I'm all finished.

And I wanted to show you something.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

You said your favorite
color was all the colors,

and Miles says

if you mix all the colors
in the world together,

you get black.

Well, it's beautiful. I love it.

You're beautiful.

Peter was even saying
so himself this morning.

He stayed the night, you know.

Well, it is fun to have him here.

Flora.

- Flora.
- No!

- Flora!
- No!

No!

No! No!

No!

No sign of fever.

Tell you what, sweetheart.

You're gonna spend the
rest of the day in bed.

She was inconsolable.

I'm afraid this isn't unprecedented.

Well... not surprising given
what they've been through.

Well, yes.

Well, when you talk to Henry,

you can tell him I said
they're all right.

Are they all right?

Well, there's nothing
physically wrong with them,

and that's all I can
speak to, I'm afraid.

I'll see myself out.

- Always nice to see you, Hannah.
- And you.

I can't believe he didn't show up.

I told him I'd called
a goddamned doctor.

He said, "Keep me posted."

Tell him you called a coroner,
and then maybe.

No, nothing short of that would
get Henry Wingrave back to Bly.

Said the same thing when I told him
about Quint. "Keep me posted."

I still don't understand, though.

She was by the lake.

But she hates the lake.

Yeah.

Miles, darling. Um...

Why don't you go help
Owen with breakfast, hm?

She doesn't hate it there.

Why should anyone hate a lake?

She talks about it all the time.

Sure.

But Flora lies.

- Good morning.
- Mm.

Yes, it is.

Oh, my gosh, I need to get up.

- No, in a minute.
- No, no, stop. Seriously.

I'm serious, Pete.

Come back.

Look, just hold that thought, okay?

I have to go.

But they can wait.

Please.

You're here another night, right?

Right?

At least.

I'll tell Henry the house will blow
up if I don't stay the week.

Then hold that thought.

Just till tonight.

Come back to bed.

Please.

Patience.

Owen, apparently, you're cooking
for seven again tonight.

Oh, he... he's staying tonight as well?

Mm. Apparently.

Although I'm not sure for how long.

What is that?

That is a very specific Bordeaux,

and it would knock your
knickers off, Hannah.

Do you want a glass?

Have you been in the wine cellar?

Yeah, it's fine.

Henry's blessed it.

I'll save you a glass if you'd
like. It is a lovely year.

I can't. I have to get back!

I know, I know. Just a few
minutes, please. Please.

They've been at it again.

Why do they keep tracking mud in here?

Well, make them clean it up.

Well... They shouldn't be in here
at all. We shouldn't be in here...

It's fine. We've got
permission from the top.

- The children...
- They're set.

I've seen to it, okay?

Okay.

Do you trust me?

Yes, I trust you.

- What?
- Wait.

- What are you doing?
- It's a surprise.

Oh, my gosh.

- Okay, a few more steps.
- Mm-hm.

- I don't have long.
- I know, I know, I know.

Okay.

Open your eyes.

Whose is that?

It's yours.

I don't understand.

It's one of my projects,
inventory for this wing.

There's a few things
going to auction, but...

Henry said this was
yours, if you want it.

- He didn't.
- He did.

I mean, took a lot of convincing.

But...

I'm persuasive when I need to be.

But...

- this belonged to...
- She never wore it.

He was adamant about that.
She never wore it, so...

don't feel bad.

Try it on.

Go on, try it on!

No. No, no, no.

See, fur like that...

... you have to feel it on your skin.

At least once in your life.
There's nothing like it.

Let me show you...

just how beautiful you are.

- Let me see, then.
- No.

Not till the end.

Excuse me.

The children, Rebecca, are on the lawn.

- By themselves.
- Yes, of course.

- I'm so sorry.
- They're fine. They're fine.

The blouse, perhaps.

Oh, gosh.

I'm so sorry.

This wing is off limits.

Careful, Hannah.

- You know that I can have...
- What? Have me fired?

Oh, yes, I know that very well, Peter.

You've got his ear.

You could have the lot of us out
of here if you truly wanted.

Do you know what?

Right now, I do not care.

You see, if I ever...

ever find you in here again,
in Charlotte's things, ever again,

so help me God,

I will drag you out of this
house by your bloody ear

and throw you into that dirty lake.

Do you understand me?

Good.

Now, clean this up.

It's almost supper.

Oh, my God, this is divine!

This is going to be an absurd cake.

It needs something. Strawberry or lemon?

- Me first because I'm older.
- I want to try the batter!

I mean, I've made some
good cakes in my day,

but this one is batter.

Oh, a lot of long faces tonight.
We might need a bigger cake.

- Let me try!
- All right, there you go.

Go on.

Mmm.

- Divine.
- Hm.

- But you should add more strawberry.
- My turn.

Hm. More lemon. It needs more lemon.

You all must try this. It's amazing!

You'll agree.

- It needs more strawberry.
- Lemon.

- All right, let me try.
- Oh, no, not Jamie.

There needs to be enough
left for an actual cake.

Move over.

- Strawberry.
- Ooh.

Ha!

All right, love.

A taste, then a smile.

- Oh, no...
- Oh, come on, come on.

Please, I'll be offended.

There you go. Ooh!

- Oh.
- Now I've done it.

Oh, don't.

- You're...
- No, no, no.

... a battered woman.

For God's sakes.

Mm.

It's divine. Perfect just the way it is.

Well, that's useless! Hm.

Come on, Rebecca.

Chin up. Mm-mm.

Thank you.

Mmm. Delicious.

I say...

lemon.

Oh, we have a proper batter royale.

Come on, Pete, you're the tiebreaker.

Oh, no, the pressure.

Hm.

Oh, God, that's amazing.

I'm going to say...

... strawberry.

Ha! In your face, Miles!

They're finally asleep.

I swear, Flora's wearing
a cake's worth of batter.

What's going on?

I'm going back to London.

- Oh, I-I... I thought...
- Yeah, well,

we both had a disappointing
evening, haven't we, Rebecca?

Um...

When are you coming back?

I don't know.

Will it be long?

I'm not sure.

But you'll be fine, won't you?

What do you mean?

I mean...

if you're gonna flirt with
him right in front of me,

why would I stay for that?

If you're hungry while I'm gone,
see if Owen can find something

to stuff into your mouth, since
you're okay with that, apparently.

Have you gone mad?

- What are you talking...
- I'm talking about that man

who you opened wide
for not two hours ago.

Mad!

You wanted people to take you seriously.

You said you took this job
'cause you didn't want old men

looking up your skirt
or down your blouse,

but age 'em down and dumb 'em up,

and you just open up when
you're told, is that it?

Do you have any idea what you look like?

He... he just...

- He... he asked me to taste his batter.
- God, fuck!

You're naive when you want to be.

That's good to know.

It's good to know that
when a man asks you

to put something in your mouth,

he doesn't have to ask twice.

He... he... He didn't.
You misunderstand.

You'll be fine.

- I'll let you know.
- Hannah, don't insult me.

It was only in my mouth.

Hello?

Peter?

Attention, please!

Flora!

Welcome to story time.

How are you feeling?

Oh, my God, you've gone into the makeup.

It's story time.

- Oh, God, story time.
- Oh, good, story time.

Come along.

Like it never happened.

They bounce back fast, these two.

They've had to.

That's right, it's
your first story time.

- Yeah.
- They do this a lot.

- Oh! Uh...
- Yeah.

- Let's get this over with.
- ... exciting.

Uh... Story time is a Flora special.

- Mm-hm.
- It's like therapy for them.

Means she's processed whatever
she's been chewing on.

- Right.
- Attention.

Welcome to story time.

Go, Flora!

That's not my name.

That's not her name.

My name is Tales.

And what are you, Tales?

I'm a cat, of course.

A cat named Tales.

I've seen it all.

As a kitten, I fell off an apple
cart and had nowhere to live.

I wandered and mewed,

and always followed the smell of apples

because maybe that
meant I'd find my mum.

My mum was an apple cat.

And what did you do?

I found a giant jumper in the forest

and pulled on the yarn.

And pulled it all out.

It took oh so long.

Yarn of a tale.

A tale of a yarn.

But once it was done,

it was so nice and warm.

I wrapped myself tight.

It was warm, it was right.

In fact, don't react,

like my strange little friend did.

Because, once it was done,

it was purr-fectly splendid.

Yay!

And what is your name?

I'm Poppet...

the puppet.

And what are you, puppet?

A puppet named Poppet.

My maker was Claude.

He made puppets aplenty.

He loved them so much...

... even though he had 20.

One was too silly,

and one was too stupid.

One laughed too much,

and the other...

... too little.

Claude went away...

on a journey one day,

and left the puppets at home.

And as time went on...

... soon...

they forgot they had strings.

And later...

they forgot they were
even puppets at all.

And then...

... Claude came back...

... so excited.

But they had forgotten him, you see.

And their strings.

They laughed when he
said he'd made them.

They laughed at him.

And he was...

so sad.

But they kept laughing.

These stupid puppets!

These stupid puppets

who had forgotten!

So, he pulled on their strings.

And it hurt.

Thank Christ, Peter Quint to the rescue.

Sorry, Pete. Bad news, but she's dead.

Oh, God.

Uh...

Yeah, no. Yeah, he is. Just...

Just one... one moment.

I-It's your neighbor,

Mr. McQueeny.

Look, I am so sorry, Owen.

I'm so sorry.

I'm going to light a candle.

I'm so glad...

you stayed.

I am too.

Who the hell knew?

- Synced & corrected by MementMori -
-- www.addic7ed.com --