All language subtitles for The.Guernsey.Literary.and.Potato.Peel.Pie.Society.2018.

Shh! For God's sake, Eben!
Keep it down.

Oh, sweetest pork I ever tasted, Dawsey.
Succulent.

And, Isola?

- Your gin...
- Shh.

He'll get us all arrested!

- I'll take him back over the field.
- Sod 'em!

This is our island,
our home, not theirs!

Those square-headed buggers
can shove...

Stop!

Papers!

Of course, Captain.

- The pig was beautiful, Dawsey.
- Shh.

- That bloody pie, though.
- You are breaking curfew.

What is the purpose of your assembly?

- We... We were just...
- Reading.

We have a book club, you see.

You know the authorities are trying
to encourage cultural association

as part of your model occupation.

Yes, yes, book lovers, that's us.

What is the name of your club?

- Erm...
- Erm...

- The Guernsey Literary and...
- The bloody potato peel pie...

The Guernsey Literary
and Potato Peel Pie...

The Guernsey Literary
and Potato Peel Pie Society.

It should be on the list.
Guernsey Literary...

You're not confiscating
potato peelings yet, are you?

This is an illegal assembly.

You will come with us. All of you!

Are you all right, Eben?

Shall I help put him into your car?

You will register this group...
first thing in the morning!

Thank you.

- Oh, so "The Times" have been onto me.
- Fresh paint!

When was the last time you saw that?

Oh...

One might almost believe
the war is really over.

Yes, they want you to do
an article

about reading.

No. Sidney, no. I don't think
I'm much up for any more Izzy.

Actually, they want Juliet Ashton.

It's your own voice this time.
I've said yes.

Huh! Have you?

Well, you might have said no,
and I make better decisions.

So, your book tour starts Monday week.
Bath to Yorkshire.

"The Times" will fill the gap nicely...

There we are.

Oh, speaking of which, here we are.

Our stop.

Thank you.

- Miss Ashton?
- Yes?

Have you always wanted
to be a writer?

Always, yes.

It's the perfect job.
Sitting, indoors, always near a teapot.

It has its ups and downs.

My first book, "A Critical Biography
of Anne Brontë", sold only...

How many copies, Sidney?

- My publisher, Mr Sidney Stark.
- Twenty-eight copies.

Worldwide.

Why Izzy Bickerstaff?
Why not write under your real name?

Erm... I'm not sure
which came to me first,

Izzy's name or his voice.

In either case, they both seemed
to suit the tone of the task.

Much better than my own.

Are you working on a new book?

Well, I'm not sure
I'd call Izzy a book

as much as a collection
of faintly amusing essays.

Yes, I am.

English foibles.
Er, a miscellany of English absurdity.

For example, there's a London society
for public decency...

which advocates trousers for horses.

Oh. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ashton.
A delight. I'm such a huge fan.

Oh. Thank you.

Oh, poor old Izzy.
Had no use for a war, did he?

Only wanted to be left alone
with his pint.

Here we are.

Quite frankly, Izzy Bickerstaff's why
you get first dibs here, Miss Ashton.

But you mustn't dally. No.

It's sure to go in a flash.

Father's paperweight.

Juliet. Juliet.

Where are you?
Come back from the edge!

It's all right.

Pure crystal.

Oh, yes. Yes, that's very nice.

Do you...

see the crystal, Juliet?

Lovely.

Wonderful view
of Kensington Gardens.

Albert Hall round the corner.

It's a steal at this price.

It is beautiful.

I knew you'd love it.

I'm terribly sorry.

At long last you can afford
something smart. Rejoice.

I feel a complete fraud here.

Juliet, you really do need something better
than a poky bedsit in Battersea,

with three suitcases and a typewriter.

- I realise.
- Oh, I see...

Poor thing! You feel
you haven't suffered enough.

I expect not.

Well, far be it for me to relieve you
of your solemn duty, but I'll tell you what...

We will buy new flats for everyone else
in London who was bombed out,

just as soon as Izzy hits number one.
Will that make it better?

It is a strong start.

This could be a proper home.

It is a proper home, Sidney.

It's just not mine.

- Excuse me.
- Hey, come on, don't be shy!

Coming through.

You'll need an enormous window
to put your desk in front of.

You don't get enough sun as it is.
Waiter, I'll keep the bottle.

Fireplace to keep you warm...
when you're not with me.

Markham Reynolds.

Diplomat and clairvoyant.
You're a wonder.

At your service.

Right.

Now, what good is a window
if I haven't given you a view?

Watch this.

Mr Reynolds.

- I've asked you to stop.
- Oh God, you've been caught.

Yet still you persist. Look at this.

Do you imagine I've got a storeroom just
brimming with vases for my tenants to use?

I apologise again, Mrs Burns.

Times are tough.

Florists, they need the work.

Flowers. Hope she knows
what a lucky girl she is.

- Come on.
- Goodbye, Mrs Burns.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

- Your mail.
- Ah...

- Thank you.
- And your flowers.

Oh... Oh, please keep the flowers
for yourself, Mrs Burns, won't you?

Oh, thank you.

And no more typing, now, Miss Ashton.
It's well after ten.

OK.

Sound of that clatter.
Worse than gunfire!

Forwarded from Oakley Street.

"Dear Miss Ashton,
my name is Dawsey Adams.

"I live on my farm
on the island of Guernsey."

Guernsey?

"I know of you
because I have an old book,

"'The Selected Essays of Elia',
by Charles Lamb,

"that has your name
and address written inside."

'I've read it many times.

'There wasn't much else to do here
during the occupation

'and Charles Lamb made me laugh.'

"Especially when he wrote
about the roast pig."

'I am part of a book club,

'The Guernsey Literary
and Potato Peel Pie Society.

'We actually formed because we had to
keep a roast pig secret from the Germans.

'So, I like Charles Lamb,
which is why I'm writing to you.

'The Germans are gone now,
but there are no bookshops left on Guernsey.

'I am looking for a copy of Charles Lamb's
"Tales From Shakespeare",

'which I understand he wrote for children.

'Could you send me the address
of a bookshop in London?

'I hope not to trouble you.
Dawsey Adams.'

'Dear Mr Adams,

'I'm so pleased your letter found me
and that my book found you.

'It was a sad wrench to part with Mr Lamb,
but I was rather low on funds at the time.

'Perhaps there is some secret
sort of homing instincts in books

- 'that brings them to their perfect readers.'
- Thank you.

'How delightful if that were true.'

- Here.
- I'll take it.

'I have located Lamb's "Shakespeare"
and I am happy to present it to you

'in exchange for the answers
to three questions.

'Why did a roasted pig
have to be kept a secret?

'How could a pig cause you
to begin a literary society?

'And, most pressing of all,
what is a potato peel pie?'

Hi.

- Try it.
- No.

That dress is too lovely
to have a cloud parked on your forehead.

Do you ever feel like we've emerged
from a long black tunnel into a carnival?

Do you not like carnivals?

After the long black tunnel,
a carnival's wonderful. Let's dance.

You know, I've been giving
some more thought to your view.

Sidney has lined up
some more flats for me to see.

- It's just a matter of making the time.
- It's occurred to me...

There's apartments on Fifth Avenue.
Look out over Central Park.

With views of the lake,
the entire reservoir...

There's even a little pond
where kids sail model boats.

I've never been to New York.

Well, it would be really fun
to show you my city.

That's something worth thinking about.

'Dear Miss Ashton.

'Thank you for finding me a copy
of Mr Lamb's "Tales From Shakespeare".

'And even more for sending it as a gift.

'I am happy to settle this debt
by answering your questions.'

'A roast pig
had to be kept a secret

'because the Germans
took all our animals away in 1940,

'to feed their soldiers on the Continent.'

This is my farm! These are my pigs!

'It was against the law
to keep even one.'

Yes.

'They ordered me
to grow potatoes.

'Food was already scarce
by the first winter of the occupation.

'A proper meal was had only in memory.

'Like our radios, which they'd taken.

'And the post, which they'd suspended.

'And the telegraph cables
that they'd cut.

'We lived our lives in isolation.

'Then one day...'

Butcher's knife?

Mrs Maugery.

How can I help?

See? I told you he'd come.

Hey, old girl!

'While Mrs Maugery
had hidden the pig away...'

I hope you don't think less of me.

'...the idea of roasting it
and hosting a dinner

'belonged to Elizabeth McKenna.'

Oh...

Mm... Oh!

'We were all hungry,

'but it was Elizabeth
who realised our true starvation -

'for connection,
the company of other people.

'For fellowship.'

- Amelia?
- Oh.

- Thank you so much for having me.
- Oh, it's a pleasure! Oh, my goodness!

'Miss Isola Pribby,
another neighbour,

'provided the gin,
which she makes herself,

'along with other herbal remedies
and home cures.'

That's what we've got tonight.

Miss Pribby.

Oh, thank you.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

- May I take your coat?
- Oh...

Dawsey, didn't know you'd be here.

- Evening, Eben.
- Ah, Amelia.

'Eben Ramsey,
our local postmaster, brought...'

An entirely new creation.

A potato peel pie.

No butter, no flour, just potatoes...

and potato peelings.

- Oh.
- Wonderful.

That sounds lovely.

Pat Murphy was getting on a bit
and he sort of lost his spark.

'We all knew each other,
of course, but not well.

'It was Elizabeth we had in common.

'And for a few hours,
she brought us together

'and helped us forget the occupation,
the Germans, war,

'everything we had lost,
and to remember our humanity.'

It was for her husband.
And he was found underneath his wife.

- Oh, no.
- Maybe he died of natural causes,

- but it was probably my tincture.
- Really?

Stop!

What is the name of your club?

'After that, we had no choice

'but to make the Guernsey Literary
and Potato Peel Pie Society real.'

Careful.

Here. Take that.

'Hmm.

'And this is how
I came to know of Charles Lamb.'

You can't read it now.

Oh, my God!

OK, let's go, go, go.

Last log.

There's this one
by Anthony Trollope.

- Anyone interested?
- Yes.

Let him have that one,
I don't want to read that.

Mary Shelley.

Yeats? WB Yeats?

- Oh...
- Not for me.

Jane Austen knew

whereof she spoke,
and she spoke most elegantly.

Manners is what holds
a society together.

That, and a reliable postal service.

At bottom, propriety
is concern for other people.

When that goes out the window,
the gates of hell are surely opened

and ignorance is king.

Shh.

Shh.

'The monitor never returned.

'Our Friday night book club
became a refuge to us.

'A private freedom to feel
the world growing darker all around you,

'but need only a candle
to see new worlds unfold.

'That is what we found in our society.'

'But I don't need to tell you this.

'You already know what books can do.

'That's something we share,
different as our lives may be.'

'Dear Mr Adams.

'Books have been a refuge for me, too.

'When I lost my parents,

'it was the world of books
where I made my home. They saved me.

'Absolutely.

'I beg your forgiveness in advance
in inviting myself,

'but I must come and meet your society.

'I so hope that you might allow me
to sit in on your meeting

'and to learn more of your story.

'Let's lay the blame
at Charles Lamb's feet

'in allowing me to think
I might be welcome at all.

'Yours sincerely, Juliet Ashton.'

'PS. While I am a reader first,
I am also a writer.

'I offer this as proof
that I come to you in peace.'

- Sidney. Sidney.
- Hold on one second.

What the Dickens did I...?
Mrs B? Thank you.

Juliet, you cannot go to a book club meeting
on the island of Guernsey.

It's a leap of faith
they'll even let me in.

You're reading in Cambridge, Friday.

But the Society, they meet on a Friday.

I can't wait. I'll only be gone
the weekend, back Monday.

- Edinburgh.
- You're in Edinburgh Monday!

I don't know why we provide you
with an itinerary, I really don't.

I don't. I just don't.

Well, this is your fault.
You said "yes" to "The Times".

Excuse me, my fault?

Sidney, what books,
what reading did for these people,

finally, I'll have
something serious to write.

Hmm. This wouldn't be just to get out of
reading Izzy in Cambridge, would it?

You're not... You're not running away?

Ha-ha-ha! You're too funny.

Well, I can't imagine Mark
would let you get very far anyway.

- "Let me."
- Hm-hmm.

You have everything you need?

Erm... Yes, I do.

- Say that again.
- What? I have everything.

Mark, it's the English Channel,
not the China Seas.

Say, "I do." Or simply say, "Yes."

What?

Juliet...

Let me give you your perfect home.

I already know mine's with you.

Whether it's here or New York
or the North Pole.

I wanna make that home together. Ours.

Say you'll marry me, Juliet.

Yes.

I know we've only been together
for six months,

- but they've been the happiest...
- Yes!

Yes!

Congratulations!

Erm...

If you just...

I'll get another load.

Excuse me?
I was looking for a place to stay.

Erm...

Peter, watch it!

Sorry.

Try at the post office.
They should be able to help you out.

- Right.
- Heads up.

Sorry, below!

Tha... Thank you. I think...

Thank you.

- Oh, hello.
- Who is it?

- It's a miss.
- What's she want?

Have I had a chance to ask?

I was sent
from The Crown... Hotel.

- They're closed. Roof's gone.
- Yes, er, I know.

A man over there said that
you might be able to help with the...

Does he come out
from behind there?

Not a lot of options at the moment,
places to stay.

Er, least of them
is with Charlotte Stimple.

She lets rooms, sometimes.
Keeps a clean house.

Er, Eli can take you up there,
if you like.

Oh, I wouldn't want him
to have to make a special trip.

Well, he has mail to deliver, anyway.

Ah. Well, thank you, then...

Eben Ramsey.

Eben Ramsey? The Eben Ramsey?

Inventor of the potato peel pie?

But you're why I've come!

Him? You came for his pie?

Er, no, I came for the meeting...
of your society.

I've been corresponding
with a friend of yours, Mr Adams.

- The writer? You're the writer?
- Yes.

Yes, I am. I'm Juliet Ashton.

- You're beautiful.
- Oh, thank you.

Goodness! Eli, get the cart.
He'll take you right up to Charlotte.

I'll call round,
let everybody know you're here.

A real writer. Come to see us.

Oh!

Five and six a night.

Wonderful.

In advance, if you don't mind.

Oh. Of course.

What brings you from London?

- And the bathroom is...?
- It's just down the hall.

- Towels are just...
- Oh, I see it.

- Thank you again.
- Oh!

I need your ration coupons
if you'd like milk with your tea.

Black tea is lovely, thank you.

Hello.

Mrs Maugery?
Good evening, I'm Ju...

Miss Ashton.
Yes, we're expecting you.

- Rather suddenly.
- Oh, I know.

I do hope I'm not imposing.

Well, here you are.

Come in.

Thank you.

Erm, Miss Ashton.

Oh, Juliet, please. I'm afraid
I've made a mistake in inviting...

No, no, no, no.
We are thrilled to have you.

The last real-life author we had
was Clara Saussey.

She read her cookbook to us back in '44.

Barely escaped with her life.

We were famished.

I'm Isola Pribby.

So happy to make your acquaintance.

Erm, I'm... so happy to join you.

Erm...

- Has Mr Adams arrived yet?
- Dawsey?

I've yet to meet him.

You've conjured him.

And your society's founder...

Erm, your society's founder,
Elizabeth McKenna?

- I'm so looking forward to meeting her.
- You won't be meeting her.

Oh...

She's off-island at present.

Fair Juliet.

- Ah...
- We meet again.

Eben.

So, who's presenting tonight?

- Why, you are, of course.
- Me?

Yeah, we were hoping you'd read

at least the first chapter for us.

None of us having had a chance yet
to read it for ourselves.

- But we can't start without...
- Dawsey!

- Erm, hello.
- Hello.

- Dawsey Adams.
- Juliet Ashton.

- You two have met.
- In a way, yes.

Earlier.

Nearly killed her
on the steps of The Crown today.

Oh, I was thinking in a past life.

But this afternoon does make sense.

Thank you again for the books.

Thank you.

Miss Ashton was just getting ready
to read to us from her book.

Yes, well,

- let's have a crack at her then, shall we?
- Right.

Fair Juliet.

Here?

Best of luck.
See you on the other side.

Right, erm...

The presenter usually stands.

Oh.

Begin.

Anne Brontë. A Life.

You think Anne Brontë
is better than Charlotte?

- I agree.
- I do not.

"The Tenant of Wildfell Hall" a more
important book than "Wuthering Heights"?

- No, no, no...
- The idea!

- No, not better.
- I agree with you.

I'm saying that Anne
is more modern than Emily.

Particularly with respect
to the status of women.

More so than Charlotte Brontë
when she wrote "Jane Eyre"?

Very doubtful.
Doubtful, doubtful, doubtful.

"Do you think because I am poor,
obscure, plain and little,

"that I am soulless and heartless?
You think wrong!

"I have as much soul as you!
And full as much heart!"

Oh! You did that beautifully!

I do love "Jane Eyre".

- As do I!
- "Jane Eyre"?

As do I! And while Jane's assertion,

"I have as much soul as you,"
was remarkable, directed to a gentleman,

it only begins to get at the idea
of equality between them.

In "Wildfell Hall", Anne Brontë laid bare
the essential imbalance of power

between men and women
in the suffocating hierarchal structure

of Victorian marriage.

She challenged the conventional thinking
of an entire society

and changed people's minds.

- Well done.
- Oh, I had no idea.

Anne Brontë, she did quite a bit,
didn't she?

Well done, Miss Ashton.

- You kept going!
- Splendid!

Against all the arguments!

But I'm afraid you've yet to have
the full experience.

- Oh!
- I find that difficult to believe.

That's the second attack
you've survived today. It's good.

- An authentic potato peel pie.
- Oh!

Original recipe.

Er, no butter, no flour.

No, er... Well, it's potatoes

and potato peelings.

You'll want this gin quick after.

Oh...

- A little taste.
- Is this safe?

- It's just potatoes.
- Oh, erm...

Quick. Here.

It... It's the worst!

- It's just awful!
- It's horrible. Horrible.

- The gin's very good though!
- Oh! She likes mine!

Ooh. Still, Mr Ramsey, I would love
to get the recipe from you if I could.

She's mad drunk already.

It would be lovely to include in the article.
People adore that sort of detail.

Article?

What article?

Oh, forgive me.
I've gotten ahead of myself.

"The Times" has asked me
to write an article on reading

and I'd like very much
to write about you.

All of you. The Society.

You painted such a vivid story
in your letters.

You came to write about us?

It's for "The London Times".

I mean, only with all your permission,
of course.

I'm sure there are
more interesting subjects to write on.

Oh, no, but your...

The story of your group
and how it was formed, I'm sure that...

- so many would find it as inspiring as I.
- Oh, I don't think so.

- Oh, no, I'm certain they would.
- No!

I'm sure we're not interested in inspiring
the readers of "The London Times".

Thank you all the same.

I see, I'm sorry. I...

I'm sorry to press,
but I'd like to understand.

But how could you understand?

And, er, and...

And people... people wouldn't.

I'm sorry you've come all this way
for nothing.

I had a dream.

Come here.

- And who's this?
- This is Kit. Elizabeth's daughter.

Daddy...

Can we go home now?

Yes.

We're going soon.

I'm so sorry
if I embarrassed you.

I feel I owe you an enormous apology.

An apology for what?

For assuming your friends were mine,

making myself the uninvited guest
and a complete ass.

And for imagining everyone would think

being featured in "The London Times"
was just a glorious gift.

Amelia is a private person.
I wouldn't give it too much thought.

You sent two books to a stranger.
You can't be all bad, Miss Ashton.

I'd feel much better
if you called me Juliet.

Thank you for coming and for letting me
put a face to the name, Juliet.

Oh. Thank you.

Goodnight, then.

Gniet.

Huh!

I believe I mentioned
I liked to lock my door by nine.

Oh, sorry.

- I... I hope I didn't keep you up.
- You did.

- 10:15 you came in.
- I was at Amelia Maugery's,

meeting with the reading group.

- There was such a lot to talk about.
- I know who you were with.

They're never short of talk.

You just be wise not to believe
everything they tell you.

Erm, I don't understand.

There's more to that story
than they like to let on.

More to what story?

Miss Ashton,
I have never been one to gossip.

So the less said on any of it,
the better.

What...

'Well, you'll be happy to learn

'I did read before an audience
last night, after all.'

Oh yes? Your farmer-in-the-dell
put you to work, did he?

'How did Izzy play
in the Channel Islands?'

Actually, they requested that I read
from the Brontë biography.

'Blimey, wherever did they dig one up?'

It was a very big hit.

Oh, I'm sure it was.

Oh, stone the crows, Mrs B.
Good morning.

But, erm...

They don't want me
writing about them.

'Oh, a tremendous hit!
I get you back early now.'

Are you on your way, darling?

- 'W-Well, er...'
- Oh, Mrs B, rebook Edinburgh

- for a week Tu...
- 'No, no, Sidney.'

- I'm still here.
- 'What on earth for?'

Listen, erm...

- Sidney, I have other news.
- 'All right.'

- I'm bracing myself for it.
- 'Er...

'I...

'I hope you won't mind giving me away.'

What's that?

I'm engaged.

To be married. Mark proposed.

'Sidney?

'Sidney?'

Yes, darling, hello.

Erm, congratulations.
That's marvellous news. The best news.

- Are you happy?
- 'Yes. Happy.'

Are you sure?

- Yes, Sidney! I'm very happy.
- 'All right, I'm very happy too, then.'

- And Mark? Mark happy?
- 'Yes.'

- 'Mark there with you?'
- No, he...

Well, he sprung it on me at the boat.
I came alone.

Sid... Sidney, hello? Sidney?

One and 11, please.

Are you enjoying the Kipling?

I am. I'm still catching up.

Didn't have much school in Dereham.

But the Society have taken me in hand.

I'll be a genius
by the end of the year.

What were you doing in Dereham?

It's where I was sent for the war,
when they evacuated us kids.

Didn't know they evacuated here as well.

Right before the occupation,

when the Germans
were just across the water in France.

Everyone knew
they'd be coming here next.

We only heard the night before.
England sent ships.

Let's have a look at you.

Come here, now. Wait.

Move it, please.
Right the way along.

Mind your step.

Take a label, please. Labels.

Go. Go, go, go.

Come on, that's it.
Quickly now.

Come on, everyone.
Take a label. Keep it safe.

Thank you.

There.

There we go.

Ready for your adventure?
Come with me.

Give me your hand.

I promise I'll look after your grandfather, Eli.
Don't worry.

Even you can't fight the Germans,
Miss, when they come.

And they might come to England, too.

Give me your hand.

My father was given this
in the Great War, for courage.

And the thing is, anyone who keeps it close
can't help but be brave,

even when they're scared.

Do you feel it?

Well, you need to rub it then.
The magic only starts when it gets warm.

I feel it now!

That's a good lad.
Now, you bring that back safe to me.

'Strictly no parents to board.'

- There he is.
- 'Strictly no parents to board.'

'Worst day of the war.

'It nearly broke us, that day.

'When the Germans landed
a few days later,

'we were only half here.

'Our hearts were already elsewhere.'

Cor, it's worn smooth.

- I needed a lot of courage.
- Oh, cheer up, Eli.

You'll give it back to her.

There's people coming home
all the time, just like you.

Coming home?

How long has Elizabeth been gone?

Oh, what a day that was.

Eli was the first boy down the gangway.

He'd grown long legs in five years.
Who would recognise him?

Me, I would.

Care for a scone? Fresh baked.

The Germans arrested her in '44.
Sent her to the Continent.

Arrested her? Why?

I don't know. I wasn't there.

And they don't say.

I was hoping to bribe you for a tour
in exchange for some of Eben's scones.

- Much better than his potato pie.
- Yes.

- I hope so.
- Come on.

Thank you.

- Come on!
- Careful, Kit!

- It's OK!
- Whoa!

She knows where she's going.

Oh, oh, oh, no!

Sorry, I would take my shoes off
if it weren't for all the wire.

Don't you worry about the wire.

It's the mines
you want to be careful of.

The mines?

I'm sorry.
Sorry, that's not funny.

Oh!

That's not funny at all!

They did mine the beaches, though.
The whole perimeter of the island.

It took some doing,
but we finally got it all cleared out.

You're safe.

Good.

What are those?

One of the German lookouts.

They put them up on every point
facing out to sea.

And they set gun positions
all along the coast.

Turned Guernsey into a fortress.

Or a prison.
You were locked up here.

They locked themselves in with us, too.

Well, it would have to take someone cruel
to build anything as ugly as these

in such a beautiful place.

They didn't build them,
the Germans, they only designed them.

Who, then?

Todt workers, they were called.

'They were slaves.
Thousands of them.

'Sent by the Reich to labour.
From Poland, Russia.

'Worked all day, all night.

'They were kept in pens with the sun
beating down on them and the rain.'

'You wouldn't even
treat animals like that.'

We islanders almost starved.

But they did.

Starved and... and died.

Dawsey...

I know that this is
none of my business, but...

Can you tell me
why Elizabeth was sent away?

What happened?

She helped someone and was arrested.

Helped someone?

Well, do you have any idea where she is?
Have you not even heard from her?

Anything else for you, mate?

- Hello.
- Oh, Juliet!

What a nice surprise.
I... I thought you'd left.

No, not quite yet.
And sadly not without some of your gin.

Ah...

I wanted to get some
for my friend, Sidney.

Sidney. See, I knew
you had someone in your heart.

- Oh...
- I could tell it when we met.

Well, not... not right when we met,
but shortly after. Such a...

...strong feeling. What flavour
do you think Sidney would like?

- What are my choices?
- Let's see, we've got anise accented,

- delphinium dusted...
- Isola, how exactly is all this legal?

Oh, I'm not sure it is.

But the, erm,
the Sergeant seems to like it.

Oh.

Ahh...

Oh...

- Oh, yes.
- Do you want some?

I did hear about Elizabeth,
that she was arrested.

Do you suppose that's why Amelia
didn't want me to write about the Society?

Good girl.

Is it to do with Elizabeth?
With who she helped?

The thing you need to understand is that
Elizabeth is like another daughter to Amelia.

- Another daughter?
- After Amelia's daughter, Jane.

She and Elizabeth
were the best of friends.

Elizabeth used to visit every summer
from London, since she was a girl.

That's her cottage, over there.

She could have left in 1940,
in the big evacuations,

but... Jane was pregnant.

So she stayed.

For Jane.

Then the Germans struck
and it was too late for everybody.

Do you feel any sickness?

It's OK, sir, it'll be fine.

'And that's where I saw Amelia,
with Elizabeth. At the hospital.

'Jane had got caught in a bombing in town
and went into labour.

'Jane lost the baby.

'And then they lost Jane.'

Leave her. Leave her.

'The Germans
came three days later.'

'We beat them in '18.
Here they are again.

'How did we let this happen?'

Shame! Shame on all of you!

- Elizabeth!
- Shame for Poland, France,

- now Guernsey! Shame!
- Come here.

Come here, it's all right.

It's all right. It's all right. She's fine.

Got a bit overexcited.

She's not doing anything,
she's going to stop now. I'm very sorry.

All right, who are you defending?
And whose side are you on?

Both of you! Go on, go about your duties.
Go about your duties!

I've lost two people already.
I can't afford to lose you, too.

'But she has lost her,
hasn't she?

'The Germans have taken Elizabeth.'

That's why I think Amelia
doesn't want to talk about the Society.

Why she wouldn't want anyone
to write about it.

Too painful.
She's lost so much.

- I didn't know.
- The war goes on.

For us. Especially Amelia.

I don't expect it'll really be over
until Elizabeth's home.

And Kit's with her mother again.

- Here's the rest of '40 into '41.
- Thank you.

Mrs Maugery.
Mrs Maugery, good morning.

Miss Ashton, morning.
Thought you'd be gone by now.

Yeah, I'd planned to, but I was...

I was curious
and I wanted to do some research.

Well, don't let me keep you.

- Research on the occupation.
- Yes, I gathered that.

It wouldn't be about the local flora
and fauna, would it, now?

I'm not writing about the Society,
I promise.

I lost people too, Mrs Maugery.
People I miss sorely.

- Everyone lost someone in this war.
- My parents.

I know what it is to be
without a mother.

If you'd let me,
I'd like to try and help.

Do whatever I can to find Elizabeth
and bring her home.

For Kit.

Please.

'M-C-K-E-N-N-A.

'Elizabeth Anne McKenna.

'British national. 28 years old.'

Do you have the date of her deportation?

No, not exactly. She was...
She was arrested on June 11th.

June 11th.

- 'They think she was sent...'
- Hey!

'They think she was sent off-island

- 'sometime in the following few days.'
- Do you know where she was sent?

No, only to the Continent.

'Has anyone
heard anything since?'

- No.
- 'I'll, erm...

- 'If anyone can do it, we can.'
- Mark, thank you.

'The war's not over for them. It won't be.
Not until this child's mother is home.

'Until then, all they can do is wait.'

Well, I do know a little something
about what that's like.

I told you,
just another day or so.

Right, right, right, right.
Researching, I got it.

You can't blame me
for being a little impatient.

You know, I put a ring on a girl
and she disappeared.

Well, she's right here.
Back soon.

Back by Wednesday.
We're having dinner with the Cavanaghs.

'Best efforts.'

Come on, piggy.

Come on, piggy. Come on.

Come on. Come here. Ready?

It's a bit loud.

Take it.
You know, you can hold it.

Right. Oh!

You know it now.

Dawsey, I think
you may have a problem.

All right. That's good.
You stay here.

Kit, the pigs have gone wild!

It wouldn't be about them.

Just the occupation.

I thought you said they didn't want
to be part of "The Times" article.

"Times" article?
Oh, no. No, no, that's long over.

I'm talking about...

I don't know what
I'm talking about yet, but, Sidney...

- It's so compelling.
- That date's gone.

As bad as it was for us, these people
had to actually live with their enemy.

'Any idea
when I might be able to tell someone

'that you'll pop by their shop
for a reading?'

I've been talking to the islanders,
to everyone.

- 'Their personal stories.'
- Juliet.

All right, I'm all ears.

I surrender.

Thank you.

"Dawsey Adams was sentenced
to three weeks in jail

"for the attack and battery
of Mr Edward Meares."

Dawsey attacked a man?

I'm sorry.

I see you with them,
and I hear you writing away up there,

and I worry very much what story it is
that they have you putting down.

I'm compiling notes
on the occupation of Guernsey.

Tall tales of her heroic kindness
and virtue, I'm sure.

Elizabeth McKenna was no saint.

Well, who among us is?

Mark me, she will be judged.
Nothing more than a common Jerrybag.

No better than any of those
other little sluts

who dropped their knickers
for extra rations or for cigarettes.

For lipsticks!

Littering the island with their filthy
half-German bastards.

- Half what?
- See?

I knew. I knew
they didn't share that with you.

Her adorable little secret being raised
in her absence by that lot.

Are you sure
she was talking about Elizabeth?

I'm not even going to repeat
what she said.

That is an excellent tack to take.

Isola, she more than implied,
in the least-polite way,

that Kit is partly German.

We're all partly something, Juliet.

And then some.

Isola...

- Is Kit Dawsey's child...
- Dawsey's child!

...or not?

Why does she call him Daddy?

It's not my story to tell.

She's four years old.
She needs to call somebody Daddy.

Presumably her father
would be the best candidate.

But that's... That's not you.

His name's Christian Hellman.

And he is a German, Dawsey?

- A Nazi? Like Charlotte said?
- No, no. Yes.

Yes, but not like Charlotte said.

He was my friend.

'Frank Hood
had a milk cow back in '41.

'Got into trouble bringing in her calf.'

I don't know why she's carrying on.
I can feel two legs right here.

- And the nose.
- She's a little early.

But...

I heard the animal from the road.

It's too noisy for you?
We'll try to keep it down.

What is the matter with her?

Just sorting that out.

You're welcome to put your head inside
if you want to look around.

We don't want trouble.
We'll register the birth. If it lives...

I'm a doctor. Let me help.

Keep it tight.

Two, three...

Good girl, good girl.

Good girl.

Come on.

Shh.

Good girl. Good girl.

It's good.

She's good. She's good.

Come on.

Shh...

Shoulder?

Got kicked by a horse
when I was a boy.

Break wasn't set right.

Do you have pain?

Only because
it keeps me out of a uniform.

Keeps me from fighting you.

The look on Elizabeth's face
when she saw Christian and me together.

And then I saw Christian's face.

It's all right, he's a friend.

I've always wondered which one
of us she meant when she said that.

They'd met at the hospital
where Christian was stationed.

They knew how dangerous it was,
to both of them.

I should have said more.

I should have told them to be more careful,
but she was happy.

Yes, it is. Yes.

Hello.

Hello.

What... What are you doing in here?

Well, the menu
at Charlotte Stimple's is... limited.

And you find this an improvement?

- It's... It's not London.
- I don't mind. I like it.

Who's with Kit?

Amelia's looking after her.
We've been finishing the hotel roof.

Ah...

Can I buy you a drink?

A glass of beer.

A pint and a half, please.

Here you are.

Thank you.

- What?
- Well...

You are not what I expected.

No?

How did you imagine me, Mr Adams,
when you wrote me a letter?

Tweed hunting skirt,
very large in the bottom.

Teeth like a horse.
Few wisps of ginger-grey hair.

And glasses thick as jam jars.

She sounds lovely.

And you?

Who was the pig farmer
you sent books to?

I did have a couple of ideas.

But it was more of a sense
that I was writing to someone

who already understood me.

I didn't have to explain myself to you,
too much.

How many of these have you had?

Oh... Well, I suppose it was
because of Charles Lamb.

- To Charles Lamb, then.
- Yes.

"Contented with little,
yet wishing for more."

Ah.

Bravo.

"The beasts are very wise.

"Their mouths are clean of lies.

"But man, with goad and whip,
breaks up their fellowship.

"When he has ploughed his land,

"he says, 'They understand.'

"But the beasts in stall together,

"freed from the yoke and tether,
say, as the torn flanks smoke,

- "'Nay, 'twas the whip that spoke.'"
- Oh...

Well read, Eli.

Really well done.

He told you about Christian.

You know.

Some, yes.

Why don't you put the kettle on?
I'll see the others out.

Oh! Come and give me a kiss.
Good girl.

I was so against him
when she brought him here for a meeting.

"'Rot you!' murmured the man,
in a horrible passion

"between his clenched teeth.

"'If I had only had the courage
to say the word,

"'I might have been free of you
in a night.

"'Curses on your head,
and black death on your heart, you imp!

"'What are you doing here?'

"The man shook his fist
as he uttered these words incoherently."

- Do you not care that I love him?
- It disgusts me.

- He killed Jane. He killed my husband.
- Christian didn't kill them.

Yes, he did.

They did.

Elizabeth...

Please don't put us through this.

Just end it.

- I can't.
- Why? Why can't you?

Because I don't want to!

And I couldn't, anyway.

Elizabeth.

Elizabeth!

Christian was discovered
sneaking into the camp that night.

They shipped him off the next day.

So I got my wish, didn't I?

They never did see each other again.

His ship was torpedoed
just shy of the coast.

He died.

Now he's at the bottom of the sea.

Like my husband.

Lost in a sea of mud on the Somme.

And she hadn't even told him about Kit.

He didn't know he'd left two behind.

If there's any shame, it's mine.

All mine.

I failed Elizabeth when she needed me.

Now all that matters is protecting Kit.

Protecting Kit?

From what?

If Elizabeth doesn't come home,
the child's only living relatives...

will be Germans.

- They might come for her.
- No.

But you said yourself that...
that Christian didn't even know about Kit.

And even if he had...

Amelia, Kit is safe.

- You don't know that.
- I promise you.

I've seen things
I never thought could happen, happen.

I can't lose another person
to the Germans. I'm sorry.

I can't.

What do you think you're doing?

You've fallen to their side.

- I tried to warn you.
- And everybody warned me about you!

Your soul is in mortal danger.

Oh, my soul. Thank you.

But it's my privacy I fear for most
just now.

Miss Ashton, let us pray.

I pray you let go of me
before I knock you down.

Now here is a book filled with love.

And you overlook all of it in favour of
judgement and petty meanness.

"Seek and ye shall find" indeed!

It is I that shall pray for you,
Miss Stimple.

But from a far safer distance.

Juliet?

I have nowhere to go.

I think Amelia feels ashamed
because she hated them all so much.

She wasn't able to see
that Christian was different...

the way Elizabeth could.

And you think Elizabeth was right?

Oh, I know it.

He was a lovely man.

All I know of romance in real life
is Elizabeth and Christian.

But tell me about your suitor.

I want to hear all about your Sidney.

Actually, Sidney's my publisher.
And my oldest friend in the world.

Still, there's a chance?

There would be a greater chance
if I were called George.

Or maybe Tom.

- He likes men's names?
- Indeed... he does.

- Oh... Oh.
- Yes.

Ooh... Thank you.

And besides, Isola...

- I'm engaged.
- What?

- To whom?
- Mark, Markham Reynolds.

- Markham? How elegant.
- He's American.

Oh.

But where's the ring?
Or is he very poor?

That's OK, too.

- He's not poor.
- No.

Why aren't you wearing it?

Well, I...

I'm not yet used to it,
I suppose.

And I wanted to keep it safe.

So, what sort of books
does Markham enjoy?

Erm... Have you...

shared a passionate encounter?

Isola!

I have never shared
a passionate encounter, myself.

I am only beautiful
on the inside.

You are beautiful
on the outside as well.

- And men do like that.
- Nonsense.

There must be someone here you like.

No. Not at present.

But I have "Wuthering Heights", don't I?

Do you not mind being alone?

I suppose. Sometimes.

But then I think
how much sweeter it'll be

when my Heathcliff
finally shows himself.

And how glad I'll be
that I decided to wait for him.

Careful!

- Good, you're here.
- Hello.

- You busy?
- No.

New glass for the greenhouse
just came into the port today.

I was going to help unload,
but I need someone to fetch Kit home.

Oh, I'd be happy to!

Eddie, blast your eyes. Get out!

- All right.
- Go on, get off.

Are you sure it's no trouble?

Absolutely not.

- Thank you.
- Oh...

- À la prochaine!
- Oh, right.

- Come on.
- Kit, slow down. Wait for me!

Away! Away, away.

Kit!

Juliet! Up here!

Do you want to see my treasure box?

Hmm, delicious.

This is me and my mummy.

She loves me very much,
but she can't be here right now.

And she'll come back as soon as she can.

Oh...

She's very pretty.

Oh... Thank you.

Such a small thing.
Just a book.

Yet it's brought me all this way.

Er, Kit's in her room, sleeping.

Thank you for watching her.

We had a lovely time.

She's... She's fond of you.

I best get back.

- Morning.
- Morning.

- Miss! Miss Ashton!
- Yes?

There's a call for you at the post office
from a Mark Reynolds.

- Not picking up?
- No. He left no message?

No, sorry. We'll try again later.

Oh, no. No, it's all right.

Just, er, if he calls back,
let him know I'm over at the newspap...

- Eben?
- Hm-hmm?

I hope you don't mind me asking,

but who is that man
that's always skulking about?

That one?

- He steers a wide path of Dawsey.
- Yeah, I shouldn't wonder.

That's Eddie Meares.
The fellow who informed on Elizabeth.

- Informed on Elizabeth?
- Among others.

Morning.

Yeah, he profited nicely
during the war,

but he's paying the price now.

Look at him.

He's the man Dawsey attacked.

Oh, that was a beautiful thing to see.

Should have sold tickets.

Steady, lad. Steady.

New jacket, Eddie?
You're doing all right for yourself.

- Can't help if business is good.
- Oh, Eddie, what business is that?

I'd say that jacket's made
of Elizabeth McKenna's hide.

What business would that be
of any of yours?

That Jerrybag wasn't even from here.

It's just too bad they didn't ship
her wee bastard off with her.

You're the bastard, Meares.

Or did I get it wrong, Adams?

Maybe you shared her
with your Nazi friend.

Leave it, Dawsey!

They had to give him three weeks,
but he only served one.

I'd have done it for him if I could.

And that one...

He has to live with himself now.
God help him.

Why does Kit live with you
rather than Amelia or...?

Because Elizabeth left her with me.

But why?

Dawsey...

What happened?

Piggies. Pig.

She came to the house that night.
The night she was arrested.

One of the slave workers, a boy,
had escaped somehow.

She found him.

He was hurt, sick.

He needed help.

Come on, piggy.

- So, she brought Kit.
- Pig...

Would I watch her
while she went for supplies?

You can't go running around the island
after curfew.

- I don't have a choice.
- Of course you do.

You have a choice,
you have a responsibility.

I won't do it.
You can't leave her here.

- Do you have any bread?
- Take her to Amelia or Isola.

I will be gone for 20 minutes.

Do you have any bread?

Elizabeth...

Because you give me
the last piece of bread when I ask.

That is why I trust her to you.

Elizabeth!

- Elizabeth!
- Shh, Dawsey. Go back!

You can't risk it, it's too dangerous.
You have a child.

This is someone's child, too.

How could I look his mother
in the eye if I didn't help?

You will never meet her!

If I don't help him, he will die.
Would you have me look the other way?

Yes, please.

- I can't!
- Please.

I'll go. Tell me what you need
from the hospital.

They'll never let you in.

I'll be back.
Two shakes of a lamb's tail.

They shot him by the side of the road.

And they arrested Elizabeth.

I should have nailed her to the floor.

But I let her go.

It's not your fault.

- It is.
- Dawsey...

It's not fair, the choice she made.

To Kit, to you.

You're raising this child
all by yourself.

But I... I, I love her.

Rise and shine.

I love Kit.

Do you love Elizabeth?

- Whoa. Whoa there, boy.
- Juliet!

Mark? Mark!

Mark!
What are you doing here?

- Hi.
- Hello.

How you doing? Mark Reynolds.

Dawsey Adams.

The letter-writing pig farmer?
Fellow bibliophile.

It's good to meet you.

- I hope I'm not intruding.
- What are you doing here?

If you ask me that again,
I'm gonna feel a little unwelcome.

I missed you.
I hope that's enough.

More than enough.
I'm just surprised.

- That's all.
- Well, I tried to call you yesterday.

And I thought, you know,
why not hop on a flight?

Come see what's so fascinating here
for myself.

I have some idea now.

- You know, it's a beautiful island.
- Yes.

- It's just lacking a proper florist.
- Oh!

All the way from London.

Mark, they're beautiful.
Thank you.

How about a private tour?

Yes.

Absolutely.

- Nice to meet you.
- Yes.

Do you see the one
with the greenhouse? That's Isola's.

That's where I've been staying
this past week.

Do you see it?
It's the one with the garden.

Have you lost the ring I gave you?

No, I haven't.

Have you changed your mind?

- No.
- Then why aren't you wearing it?

Because I am afraid of losing it.

I can... I can only imagine
what it cost.

And I... I wanted to keep it safe.

- And I'll... I'll tell you the truth.
- That would be great.

I feel like I'm lording about,
with a great gold crown on my forehead.

Can you understand that?

My good fortune feels...

It feels so conspicuous here.

I take it gold crowns
aren't the fashion on Guernsey?

Or maybe just not on pig farms.

Or maybe you'd like to take it back.

More than anything,
I just wanna see it on you.

Right here, where I put it.

Unless there's something
you wanna tell me.

Good.

Now, the real reason I came...

Mark was able to trace her
to a camp in Ravensbrück.

Wh... Where's Ravensbrück?

Germany.

There are witnesses who saw her.

Who were there...

the day she died.

- Do they know how she died?
- She was shot.

They say she tried to save a girl...

who was being beaten.

Elizabeth got the stick from the guard
and she struck him with it.

The girl was spared.

But they killed Elizabeth instead.

I'm so sorry.

- Where are you going, Dawsey?
- To tell Kit.

Right now? Don't you want
to give yourself a chance to think?

- Think what?
- What will you tell her?

- I'll do it, Dawsey.
- I will.

Wait.

Come on.

Come here.

She's only four.

- What can she understand?
- I'm older than time.

And I understand nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

It's time to go.

It's not like I can keep putting poor Sidney
and his book tour off forever.

- I have to get back to London sometime.
- Then there's your Mark.

- Wouldn't want him to go to waste.
- No.

- You see?
- Hm.

There's nothing to keep you here.

No.

- My life's in London.
- Yes, it is.

I'm afraid how lonely it's going to feel now,
when you're gone.

It's terrible to lose a friend
when you don't have many.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry, Amelia.

- Bye, Miss.
- Keep going with the Kipling.

Goodbye.

I'll miss you.

I'll miss all of you.

This is yours.

I'd like you to keep that.

- Juliet, I'll be on board.
- Yes.

- Mr Adams, it was nice to meet you.
- Bye-bye, Juliet.

Bye, Kit.

Kit.

We'll still write to each other,
won't we?

Yes, of course.

Goodbye.

Thank goodness you're here, Mr Stark.

Poor thing. She's not eating,
and she's as quiet as a mouse.

Well, let's see what we can fix.

I can tell you, the silence
is worse than the typing ever was.

Hmm.

You have to write about them.

I can't. I promised I wouldn't.

I realise that, Juliet,
but this is your story to tell,

as sure as I'm sitting here,
and you will not be right until you do.

Now, Elizabeth, for better or worse,
couldn't help but follow her heart.

You must do the same.

I'm afraid.

- What if I'm not a good enough writer?
- Ah.

She doubts.

She doesn't believe.

She craves being taken seriously,
but then she won't do that for herself.

I think you're better than you yet know.

And as your friend, of many, many...

many years...

I've seen you reach
for what you want.

You have that courage.

You look absolutely ravishing.

Thank you.

We...

need to celebrate.

To us.

Juliet, what is it?

Mark, I'm sorry.

I am very sorry.

OK, is my mistake
bringing you back too quickly

or letting you go to Guernsey
in the first place?

I should have never let you
out of my sight.

I think I would have found myself here
sooner or later,

even if I'd gone nowhere.

I am sorry, Mark.

May I ask if you ever loved me?

I loved our time together.

- And I still truly care for you.
- It's not really the same thing, is it?

- But I feel terribly...
- Well, I am really sorry about that.

Mark, as unhappy with me
as you are right now,

being married to me
would not have made you happy.

I'd just as soon as you not tell me
what would make me happy.

I got a better beat on that than you.

And you deserve someone
who can share that.

Who can share every wonderful thing
you have to offer.

- You deserve better.
- Well, I deserve better than I got.

I'll give you that.

And you will have it.

I'm sure I will.
But not at this table. Goodnight.

Goodbye, Mark.

Goodbye, Juliet.

"The Guernsey Literary
and Potato Peel Pie Society."

Crikey, that's quite a mouthful.

- No author?
- No.

You can't ever publish it anyway.

You'd need permission
and it's not mine to give.

This is just for you.

Thank you.

- But...
- Hmm?

I will write you another book.
Possibly another after that.

This makes me excessively happy to hear.

Something's opened up, Sidney.

Somehow the "doing" has given me
a tremendous appetite for more.

Which brings me to a business question.

Business? Good.

I'm all ears.

Have I still got a little money?

Ah...

No.

No, you're quite rich.

Huh!

Well, I only need some.

There's a property
I may be interested in buying.

But I need to go and see
if it's still available

and if they'll have me.

Darling girl,
anyone would be lucky to have you.

And I am so lucky to have you.

Hmm.

True.

All right, all right.

Off you go.
I'm a very busy man.

All right.

Just so you know...

I'm still available to give you away.

Should the occasion ever present itself.

Thank you, Sidney.

For all of it.

Granddad?

It's addressed to the Society.

From Juliet.

Out loud, son. Out loud.

"Dear Dawsey, Amelia, Isola,

"Eben, Eli and Kit.

- "Please forgive me."
- Oh, whatever for?

"That's first.

"I hope you will forgive me
breaking the promise I made

"not to write about your Society.

"We had a trust I am profoundly sorry
to have betrayed.

"Secondly, know that this manuscript

"is yours alone
to do with what you will.

"I will not publish it.
That's not why I wrote it.

"'Earth seemed a desert
I was bound to traverse,

"'seeking to find the old familiar faces,'
Charles Lamb wrote."

It's Charles Lamb.

'Without knowing it,
I feel I have been searching

'for the old familiar faces
for many years now,

'and can't quite account for
why I recognise these as yours.'

- 'But I do.'
- But I do.

"Do you suppose it's possible for us
to already belong to someone

"before we've met them?"

Oh, very much so, yes.

"If so, I belong to you,
or you to me,

"or me simply to the spirit
I found among you on Guernsey.

"That is as good a definition of family
as any I know."

'Thank you for sharing
the story of your family with me.

'And for sharing Elizabeth.

'Though I did not get
to meet her myself,

'I feel keenly how her life has changed
the arc of my own forever,

'in ways I am only just beginning
to discover.

'I wish you all peace,

'and hope that if books do have
the power to bring people together,

'this one may work its magic.'

"Love, Juliet."

The Guernsey Literary
and Potato Peel Pie Society.

That's my name.

It is.

- Will you read it to me?
- I will.

Another time, all right?

Who will look after her?

- I will.
- Eli, drive me to the port?

- I can still make the 11 o'clock boat.
- Where are you going?

London. Wherever she is.

You stop her, Dawsey. You stop her.
Don't let her marry that Yank.

I don't believe she is.

- How do you know?
- She told us.

Mind Amelia. I'll be back soon.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye.

Well, where does she say that?

Come on. Let's go and make some cakes
for when they get back.

Amelia, are you not going to read this?

I don't care for everyone
to see me crying. I will later.

Excuse me, sorry.

Sorry.

Thank you.

Dawsey? Daw... Dawsey!

Excuse me. Dawsey!

Sorry. Sorry.

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

Dawsey!

Dawsey!

Dawsey!

Oh, Juliet.

Hello.

Where are you off to?

I'm on my way to find you.

Me?

- Really?
- Yes.

Well, I wrote you a letter
on the boat just now.

Wanted to make sure I'd got it all down.

Everything I should have said
long before.

Well...

This is convenient because I was
on my way to find you as well.

Juliet...

- I...
- Would you like to marry me?

I'm in love with you.
So I thought I'd ask.

Wow! My God.

Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes?

"Puck had carefully removed
the charm from off the eyes of Lysander

"with the antidote
the Fairy King gave to him.

"Hermia first awoke,

"and finding her lost Lysander
asleep so near her,

"was looking at him and wondering
at his strange inconstancy.

"Lysander presently opening his eyes,
and seeing his dear Hermia,

"recovered his reason which
the fairy charm had before clouded,

"and with his reason,
his love for Hermia.

"And they began to talk over
the adventures of the night,

"doubting if these things
had really happened,

"or if they had both been dreaming
the same bewildering dream."

- Begin.
- "He was hungry, he said.

"It was time for lunch.

"'Besides,' he said, 'there's the Lighthouse.
We're almost there.'"

That's all fine,
but where is the story?

Hear, hear.

The narrative
is not the author's primary concern.

I understand that.

Never has been
with Virginia Woolf.

Is it too much to ask
for something to happen?

It's what's going on
inside the people.

It's the psychology of the people.

It's the psychology of
the people going on a boat ride, Isola.

Eben!

- "Who are you?"
- "I'm poor Ben Gunn, I am."

- "Were you shipwrecked?"
- "Nay, mate."

"Marooned... three years agone
and lived on goats."

"Three years?"

- "Then berries and oysters."
- "Oysters?"

"Many's the long night
I've dreamt of cheese. Toasted, mostly."

Well done, Grandpa.

"Be not afeared.
The isle is full of noises."

"Sounds, and sweet airs
that give delight and hurt not.

"Sometimes a thousand
twangling instruments

"will hum about mine ears,
and sometimes voices."

I love that.

"I took that dear hand,
held it a moment to my lip."

Oh!

"We entered the wood
and wended homeward.

"Reader, I married him."

If ever there was someone
who earned a happy ending, it was...

- Me!
- Bravo!

"You answer
to the name of Ernest.

"You look as if your name was Ernest.

"You are the most earnest-looking
person I ever saw in my life.

"It is perfectly absurd
you're saying your name isn't Ernest."

Sidney, bravo!

Would you care for more pie,
Mr Stark?

No! Gin.

- Sidney!
- Leave it to me.

"When I was three,
I was hardly me.

"When I was four,
I was not much more.

- "When I was five. I was just..."
- "Alive."

- "Alive."
- Yes.

"But now I am six, I'm as..."

- "Clever."
- "Clever as clever.

"So I think I'll be six now for..."

- "Ever and ever."
- "Ever and ever."

Oh, you did that beautifully!

Bravo!