All language subtitles for The.Bookshop.2017.BDRip.XviD.AC3-EVO

She told me once,

"When we read a story,
we inhabit it."

"The covers of the books
are like a roof and four walls."

"A house".

She, more than anything else in the world,
loved the moment when you finish the book,

and the story keeps playing
like the most vivid dream in your head.

And after that,
she loved taking long walks

to clear her mind
of all the emotions and feelings

the book had started within her.

That very morning,

after hazy years of reading
and walking,

and mourning the death of her husband,

Florence Green woke up knowing
exactly what she wanted to do.

She was going to open a bookshop in the
little village where she'd ended up living.

I am convinced that this bookshop
will be everything you say, Mrs. Green,

but, of course, for now I can give you
no definite commitment on behalf of the bank.

The decision does not depend upon me.

And I have your honest assurance
that you have ample experience in the trade.

I learned the trade very thoroughly
when I was a girl.

and I don't believe it's changed
greatly since then.

And more importantly I know...

I love reading.

Well, it would do little harm
to let you know one or two things.

Consider them words of advice
if you prefer.

She had a great heart,

and enormous patience.

But not even these two virtues
were strong enough

to bear the grandiloquent
and patronizing tones

of Mr. Keble,
the Hardborough banker,

whom everyone called
Mr Potatohead behind his back.

I should tell you
there are those who believe

there are other possible uses
for the old house.

Of course, there is always
a possibility of a resale.

But I have no intention of reselling, Mr Keble.
Not in the slightest.

What else do people think
the Old House could be used for?

Why have they done nothing about it
in the past seven years?

There were birds nesting in it,

half the tiles were off the roof,
and it stank of rats.

Wouldn't it be better to fill the place
with books for people to look at?

I read before going to sleep,

and I usually drift off
to the land of Nod by about the third page.

So you see! Don't you realize
how useful books can be?

The weather in this part of the world
was totally unpredictable.

Sometimes all four seasons
could be present in a single morning.

That sunny day,
she left the bank

feeling angry, proud, impatient,
and terribly alive.

She was going to pursue her dream,

and nobody, not even Mr. Potatohead,
was going to stop her.

Hello, Mrs. Green!
Are you busy?

Hello, Mr. Raven.
Not at the moment. Why?

Can I throw the rope to you?

Yes, of course!

Watch out!

Very slippery.
That's how Ethan broke his leg yesterday.

But I'm well aware that you are a woman
who don't frighten easily.

How do you know that?

Rumour has it that you're about
to open a bookshop here.

WHy do you feel it's something daring?

The only person here who reads
is Mr. Brundish.

I don't think he's going to
be leaving home to be your customer.

I think I saw him yesterday on the hill.
Well, caught a glimpse of him anyway.

I imagine you had
a long conversation!

Yes, never stopped talking!

Yeah, right.

Good luck, Mrs. Green!

Do you not read, Mr. Raven?

I don't.

Books leave me exhausted.

Real life is enough for me.

Mr. Brundish lived alone
in the oldest house in Hardborough.

He didn't particularly
like his own company,

but, after long years of battle,

he had reached a lasting truce
with himself.

He adored books with the same passion
with which he detested his fellow men.

He often cherished the fantasy that the
volumes he devoured from morning till night

hadn't been written by human beings,

but had appeared through
spontaneous generation.

There was nothing that bothered him more
than the protraits of writers

often included in certain editions.

It's not red.

It is a very deep maroon

or rust.

Anyway, how is the old house?
How are you coping?

Sam Wilkins was in and fixed
the bath, and tarred the roof,

and repaired the system as best he could
anyway.

That place is like an old fossil.

Even the straw is 500 years old.

OK, arms up.

There.

You are still going to move
in there, aren't you?

I spent my first night there
last night.

What! So soon?

I told everyone to watch out.

Nobody actually thought you were going to
move into the Old House.

Yes, I know they didn't, but it was fine,
a bit creepy in the night,

but that's because
I'm not used to it yet, I suppose.

I should think a wooden and old house
like that creaks everywhere.

I'm afraid red isn't really for me.

I mean it doesn't really look
good on me from behind, but...

Perhaps if I stand against the wall
next time I'm there...

- Too red, don't you think?
- It's not...

It's not red.

It is a very deep maroon.

Yes.

You'll get used to it in time.

Need a bit of jewellery
to make it stand out.

Yes.

- You sure?
- Well, of course I'm sure.

It's not every day the General
and Mrs Gamart invite you to a party, is it?

Stop agonizing!

You look...

lovely.

Anyway, when you get there,
you won't have to worry how you look.

No one will mind you.

They'll probably know
all the guests anyhow.

I'm Florence Green.

I am the one opening
the little bookshop.

That's it, of course!

Thought of it right away!

Of course. Violet was very interested
in that matter.

She wanted one of those
conversations of hers...

with you about the bookshop.

She's rather caught up right now.

But I believe she wishes
to talk to you later.

So...

What sort of stuff are you going
to have in your shop?

Well...

Basically books.

They don't publish many
books of poetry these days, do they?

I don't see too many about.

I shall have some poetry, of course,

but it doesn't sell quite so well
as other things like novels and essays.

It will take me some time to find out
what kind of stock I'll bring in.

For the moment I've mainly ordered classics.
Thackeray, Dickens, Keats...

"It is easy to be dead."

"Say only this."

"They are dead".

Do you know who wrote that?

No.

I'm so sorry, I don't.

I know who you are.

Must be Mrs. Green.

Yes.

I know who you are, of course, Mr. North.

Though I've never had an invitation to the Stead before,
I expect you come here often?

Yes, I do get invited frequently.

Oh, thank you. Very kind.

Not very.

You live on your own, don't you?
You've just moved into the Old House.

All by yourself?

War widow.

I know.

Have you never thought
of marrying again?

No.

The problem is I was
very happily married.

How odd.

I was always under the impression that it's
precisely when a woman is widowed

that she starts to get happy.

Are you sure you've received
the proper advice to run a business?

I've never met you before now, Mr. North,
but I assumed, because of your work,

you'd be someone who'd appreciate
having a bookshop in Hardborough.

I'm sure you know
writers at the BBC,

and thinkers and and so forth.

I trust they come down here
from time to time to see you and get some fresh air.

If they did come...

I wouldn't know what to do with them.

Writers will go anywhere
where there is a free drink.

I'm not so sure about thinkers.

I think Kattie, my so-called girlfriend,
would look after them.

Anyway, you must both come to my shop.
I shall rely on you.

On no account.

Why are you wearing red?

Red's the colour that only looks good
on housemaids on their day off.

It's not red, it's a deep maroon.

My dear lady.

Florence, isn't it?

Yes.

I've been wanting to speak to you
since you arrived,

but my guests have nothing better to do
than steer me away from my priorities.

Thank you so much for coming.

- Thanks for inviting me.
- It's a pleasure.

- It's such a lovely party.
- Everyone is talking about your new ventures.

You have such a great nose for business.

Bruno!

Have you been introduced to my husband?

Come and tell Mrs. ...

Green.

How delighted we are to see her.

And to think we've all been praying
for a good bookshop in our little town.

Haven't we, Bruno?

Of course, my dear.
There's no harm in praying.

Things would probably go much better
if we all prayed more.

Just one thing, Ms. Green,
and a very small one at that,

You haven't actually moved
into the Old House, have you?

Yes, I have been there over a week.

But there's no water.

Sam Wilkins connected the pipes for me.

Don't forget, Violet, you've been
in London a good deal lately,

and you haven't been able
to control everything.

Why shouldn't I have moved in?

I believe I can spare you
many disappointments

and maybe even a bit of money.

In fact, I hope to help you.

There are much more appropriate locations
in Hardborough.

Especially for a bookshop.

I'm afraid we are all so used to
seeing the Old House empty,

that we've procrastinated
year after year.

You've practically showed us all
by being in such a hurry, Mrs. Green.

But the fact is...

Many of us are not at all convinced

by the sudden transformation of the Old House
into a shop.

Many of us believe
it should be a kind of...

local art centre.

Fine, Violet,
you could pray for that also.

Chamber music in summer,
lectures in winter...

There is simply no other old house

that has that...

ambience.

I've been negotiating the sale
for over six months, so...

You see, it's hard for me to believe
there's anyone left in Hardborough

who doesn't know about it.

In fact, I'm sure
they all know.

We have one great advantage.

It would be a shame to just...

throw it away.

Now we have exactly the right person

to take charge of the matter,
I mean to take charge of the centre.

You do understand, don't you?

Why don't you think it over
for a bit?

Sonia!

How wonderful!

Her feet and head ached,

and she regretted having taken
the seamstress' advice

as to the colour of her dress.

That was all.

Not for one moment did she
think about the consequences

that her modest act of inhabiting
the Old House would bring upon her.

You look radiant.

Isn't that that Lord Gosfield?

What a guest list this evening, Violet!

Lord Gosfield.

How difficult it has been
to try and reach you this evening..

I hope Bruno has told you

about our new Hardborough centre
for music and the arts.

We were just talking about it.

Mrs. Green!

Hi.

- Good Morning.
- Glad I caught you.

- How are you?
- Very well thanks. Very well.

I wanted to ask you about my shop.

I wanted to speak to you about my shop.

- It's up for auction.
- Yes.

Not until April,
it could be later still.

Well, the fact is...

I'd much prefer to reach
a private agreement before.

As you've expressed a certain interest
in the property,

and since you're not going
to remain in the Old House...

I trust that you appreciate
that I am too busy

to pay attention
to the rumours that I hear.

Well, it stands to reason you'll be making
an offer on the premises.

There's been a misunderstanding,
Mr. Deben, but...

Yes, but it doesn't matter in the slightest.
And I...

I should like
to be able to help you.

Mrs. Gamart was...

kind enough to tell me
about her idea for an art centre.

From which I am sure everyone of us
living here in Hardborough would benefit.

And I believe she is the one
who is searching about for premises.

And what could be better
than your fish shop?

Yes, I see.

You've been extremely kind.

- Thank you for your help.
- You're welcome, Mr. Deben.

- Good Morning.
- Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Green.

Florence had managed to
live life thus far

by pretending that human beings
were not divided

into exterminators and exterminated,

with the former
at any moment predominating.

I didn't know
if you'd be down in London or...

London? No, I'm here.
Well, I think I am.

Nescafé?

I've never tried it.

I have heard of it, but I...

I'm told it's not made
with boiling water.

Yes.

- This is all much too small for you.
- I know.

You know, I'm glad
that you've dropped in.

No one else compels me
to face the truth.

Well, that's fortunate
because I've come to ask you a question.

When Mrs. Gamart was talking at her party

about the ideal person
to run an art centre,

it was you, of course,
that she had in mind, wasn't it?

It wasn't me.

Sorry, Violet's party?

Did she expect me just to move out of my house
and probably, for that matter, out of the town altogether,

assuming that you would come
to the Old House to...

manage everything?

If she'd been referring to me, I doubt very much
she would have used the word "manage".

Do you fancy Nescafé or...

not?

No. Neither, thank you.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

- Do you mind if I...?
- No, no, please.

I should probably get going.

Are you...Really?

Yes. Thank you anyway.

Well...it's lovely to see you.

Well, from what I've heard,
and practically by chance,

you've started to think twice
about the whole bookshop operation.

Well, then you've heard wrong,
Mr. Thornton.

I am here to demand that all unresolved matters
be resolved as quickly as possible

so that I might set up the bookshop
without further delay.

- But I was told that you...
- What?

That I'd be leaving the Old House,
which, by the way, is my only home?

There are many other vacant properties
in Hardborough.

As it happens, I have a list of some
of the more out-of-the-way ones.

I expect no further delays, Mr. Thornton.
Please have all pending papers sent to me.

And, once again,
I am ever so grateful for your help!

Is there something
I can help you with, boys?

We are sea scouts, ma'am.

Yes, I see. And just what is it
that you're doing here?

Mr. Raven told us to stop around.
What would you like us to do?

I want all the book shelves put up in there.
Do you think you can manage that?

How many hand drills
can you get us, ma'am?

You've all been waiting here
in the pouring rain.

If I can find my keys...

Okay, hurry up.

When Ms. Green opened the first
box of books she had ordered,

all the problems and obstacles
of those past few days

simply vanished.

With each edition, the faces
and the words of Mrs. Gamart,

the banker,

her lawyer,

and Milo North,

all faded away.

And, for a moment,
she felt that her late husband,

whom she had loved so dearly,

was with her once again.

And that was her happiest moment
in the bookshop.

A very lonely job, yours.

Sorry about the waders.

I don't feel in the least bit lonely.

That shelf over there
is a fifth of an inch crooked.

And that plastering.
It looks hideous.

You can let them know
the next time you see them.

No, no, it all looks wonderful, Mr. Raven.

I couldn't be happier with the work
the boys have done. Honestly.

Is that you, Wally?
Are your ears burning?

- What are you doing here, boy?
- I have a message for Mrs. Green.

- From whom?
- From Mr. Brundish, Mr. Raven.

What?!

He just came out of Holt House
and handed you a note?

No, he leaned out of the window and told me
to go and get this to Mrs. Green.

I don't see
how this can be for me.

I've never spoken to Mr. Brundish - ever.
I can't believe he even knows my name.

And whenever I run into him on the headland,

he always goes off like a shot
as if he'd just seen a ghost.

I'm certain he knows
who you are.

He finds out about everything that happens
in town. I don't know how he does it.

Don't you worry
about the envelopes' black edges.

He ordered those those envelopes back in 1919
when they were all returning from the First War and...

and Mrs. Brundish died...

during their honeymoon.

Oh yes. How did she die?

She was drowned...

crossing the marshes.

She'd gone to pick some blackberries
to bake a pie for Mr. Brundish.

"Dear Madam".

I would like to wish you well.

Back in my great-grandfather's day,
there was a bookseller in the high street,

who, if my memory serves me correctly,

knocked up one of his customers
with a desk pad

when he became annoying.

There'd been some delay

in the arrival of the latest
installment of a new novel - I believe...

I believe it was Dombey and Son.

As of that day,
no one has plucked up courage enough

to sell books
in this forsaken corner of the world.

This is a great honour you do us.

I should undoubtedly visit your shop one day
if I ever went out.

But nowadays I rather make a point
of never doing this.

In spite of everything,
should you deem some literary novelty worthy

please, don't hesitate to send it to me.

In the case of biographies,
it's better, I find,

if they're about good people,
- whereas novels

are much more interesting
if they're about nasty people.

Please have the same boy
who delivered this letter bring them to me

with a note, obviously,
indicating their price.

Yours...

Respectfully..."

"Edmund Brundish."

My first customer.

Come around later and
I'll give you a package for Mr. Brundish.

Thank you, Mrs. Green.

You'll probably need a bright young helper
in the afternoon, in case it gets busy.

I was thinking of
one of the Gipping girls.

Mrs. Gipping is more or less
up to date on the matter,

and I thought about asking her
which of her daughters might suit you the best.

I think the youngest, Christine,
is the cleverest,

but she probably wouldn't give her out to you
for that precise reason.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Thornton. Welcome!
- Thank you.

Fahrenheit 451.

What kind of book is this?

You're Christine Gipping, aren't you?

I would have thought
your older sister would...

My elder sister
spends all her time with Charlie Cuts.

In fact, on my way over here,

I saw their bikes hidden under fallen leaves
over by the crossroads.

You won't have any trouble like that
with me, though.

Those things aren't happening to me yet.

And I find boys to be repulsive.

And what about your other sister?

She spends all her time at home
minding Margaret and Peter.

They're the little ones.

You musn't think I don't want
to consider you for the job,

it's just that you don't
really look old enough.

Or strong enough.

That's hard to say after a first glance.

You look old,
but you don't look strong.

It's all the same anyway,
we're all available.

But my older sister will be absent from work
half the time,

and the middle one won't show up.

Just a warning.

And I should also let you know I don't like reading.
I like geography and maths.

I'll come round this afternoon
and discuss things with your mother.

And don't worry, I won't force you to read.

As you wish.

All she'll say is that I can
work every day after school

and all day Saturday.

And you can't pay me less
than 12 shillings and six pence a week.

And to tell me to shut up
if I speak too much

What about your homework?

I can do that when I get home,
after tea.

I like your cardigan.

Did you knit it yourself?
It looks like it would've been very difficult.

It was in the magazine Women's Issue

But the instructions
were for short sleeves.

You have no children, Mrs. Green?

No.

Should I have?

I don't know.

People always say life's passed by women
who have no children.

There aren't enough cards on display.

Shall I put some more out?

They really should be ordered
into romance and nature or something.

- Is this what you call romance?
- Oh my God!

What are these?

I hadn't even seen them before.

Those sales reps really don't know
what they're sending you.

We've got to throw them away.

I'm sure there's a few people in this village
who wouldn't mind getting these in their letterbox.

You're right.

Stop looking at them!
You'll be corrupted.

- Where is the bin?
- Don't throw them in the bin!

Come on, have a cup of tea.

Why is Christine so late?

She's been working for this lady.

Why?

Because he has a shop full of books
for people to read.

Why?

I don't know.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Gipping.

Come in, Mrs. Green.

Let's have a talk.

I'm not sure if Christine has already
spoken to you about the 12 shillings.

Yes, yes, she did.

Dear Madam, spare yourself the trouble
of sending more books of poetry

or spuriously complicated novels.

Please, at your earliest convenience,
send more books by Ray Bradbury.

Yours Respectfully,
Edmund Brundish.

Very soon Mrs. Green's business
began to thrive.

Her days were fully occupied
from morning to night.

For a short time she forgot about everything
concerning Mrs. Gamart

and her plans to turn the Old House
into an art centre.

- Good morning, Mrs. Green.
- Hello, Wally.

Thanks you for doing me this favour.
Here you are.

Would you like to come
on an outing, Christine?

I can't. We've got new stock
arriving tomorrow.

Okay then.

Goodbye.

Wouldn't you like
to go on an outing?

No. I like Wally, but...

Yes, I know, you did tell me
you find boys repulsive.

But believe me...

You'll get over it.

Yes, I suppose.

It's just... I prefer to be here,

in the bookshop with you.

It's fun working here.

Even if I don't like reading.

Mrs. Green, they're dirtying the cards.

Just let them browse. It's part of
the tradition of a bookshop.

Yes, but they leave everything in such a mess
and don't buy anything.

Miss?

Florence.

Mr. North. What a surprise!

It seems Violet
isn't going to get her own way.

- Has she stopped by you yet?
- We haven't been open very long.

She will.
She'll appear eventually.

She has far too much self-respect not to.

I'm sure she is simply
dying of curiosity.

- She'll be quite welcome.
- Are you making any money yet?

- Not yet.
- You really need something like this.

This is volume one.

Is there a volume two?

Yes, but I have lent it to someone,
or left it somewhere.

You should keep them together
as a set.

Lolita

Have you read it? Is it any good?

It will make you rich, Florence.

Yes, but is it good?
I only stock good novels.

They don't move fast, you know.

According to Graham Greene
it is a masterpiece.

Although there are those
who think otherwise.

Thank you for suggesting it.

I sometimes feel the need of good advice.
You're very kind.

You're always making that mistake.

Until next time.

We have the blue one at home.
It has Westminster Abbey on it,

but it goes all the way around the tin.

I'll put the heat on.

Mum says those paraffin heaters
aren't very safe.

They're not dangerous, as long as you
remember to clean them out properly.

And you don't pour the liquid in
from both sides at once.

You must never do that - ever!
Do you hear me?

I like this old tray.
You can leave it to me in your will.

What?!

I don't think I'm ready
to start thinking about my will just yet.

But when I do,
I'll try to remember that.

You will?
Are you sure?

Is the tray from Japan?

No, it's...

Chinese lacquer.

My grandfather brought it back
from Nanking.

He was a great traveller.

I don't think they even make lacquer
like this in China anymore.

Thank you.

I was wondering if you'd like me
to help you with your schoolwork or something.

- We could read things together maybe...
- There's nothing to read.

They give you some pictures and say
which one's the odd one out.

Or they give you some numbers like...

8, 5, 11, 9, 22, and 16,

and you have to say
which one comes next.

I wouldn't begin to know
which one came next.

You're not cold, are you?

No.

That Milo is a ferret.

He smiles just like a ferret.
I wish he'd just go to hell.

Stop it, Christine!

You're too nice.
He's a nasty piece of work.

When I'm older, I'm going to try
to be like him.

It's much more practical.

I know you don't like reading,

but there's a book I'm afraid
you must read.

What's it about?

It's about good pirates
and evil children.

Promise me that you'll just at least
just open it one day.

Well, if you'll let me have
the Chinese tray in your will.

I can try.

Deal.

Dear Mr. Brundish.

Enclosed you will find a copy of a novel
that has just been published. Lolita.

I must confess
my bewilderment with it.

I'd like to know your sincere opinion of it,
and ask for a bit of advice.

Do you think it's a suitable book
to be sold in my bookshop?

Yours sincerely,
Florence Green.

PS. If you don't like the book,
there's no need to pay for it.

Hello, Mrs. Gipping. Is everything alright?

I thought you should know
as soon as possible.

Mr. Brundish has asked me

to deliver my fruitcake on Sunday.

And he's also asked me to ask you

if you'd like to stop by the Holt House
for tea that same afternoon.

This Sunday?

Why yes.

Yes, yes, allright...

Yes, I'll send him a note.
Thank you for the message, Mrs. Gipping.

I've never delivered a cake
to Mr. Brundish before.

I hope this doesn't
become a habit.

Mrs. Green, is it true you're having tea
at Holt House this Sunday?

Yes, Mrs. Keble, it is true.

Is there something I should know
before I go there?

Mrs. Green.

Mrs. Deben.
How is Mr. Deben?

Still having trouble finding a buyer
for the fish shop, I gather.

Poor thing.

I bet the General and Mrs. Gamart
are seething about the matter.

They've never been invited
to Holt House, you know.

Yes, I've heard.

So, Holt House for tea, eh?!

He so jealously guards his privacy

after the tragic death
of his beloved wife.

I sent him some books and...

asked for advice about the bookshop.

Don't you know!

Well, I should get back there,
I suppose.

- It's tipping down there.
- Cats and dogs!

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

Advice for the bookshop!

Hello?

Mr. Brundish?

Come into the dining room.

You asked me a question.

Yes, I did it.

About a new novel.

You were thoughtful enough
to ask me a serious question,

thinking I would be impartial.

You undoubtedly thought
I was quite alone in the world.

Never. I did not for one second...

I imagine you have been told
all kinds of things about me.

All bad.

No.

Really.

I am a widower, I'm sure you've been told.
I imagine you've also been told

that my wife died whilst gathering blackberries
to make me a pie,

which is the latetst version
going around town.

Well...

none that have been circulating
are true.

- She didn't drown?
- No.

In the sixth month
of our marriage,

we both -
having been the best of friends -

decided that a friendly separation
would be for the best.

She lives in London.

I haven't seen her for 45 years,
but according to my information

she's still in very good health.

Although, apparently...

she's put on quite a lot of weight.

She always loved sweets.

Although I can never remember
her baking a cake in her life.

I suppose for people of Hardborough
it's more picturesque

to imagine Holt House
inhabited by a mourning widower.

As you already know,
Literature has done a lot of damage.

Those damned Brontë sisters,
for example,

by whom you have not included
a single copy

in those packages to me,
for which I am ever so grateful.

I imagined
you would have read them already.

One of the Gipping girls, the third one,

lends you a hand in your shop,
I believe.

And that is all the assistance
you have at your disposal?

I have a bookkeeper
who comes in from time to time,

and then there's my solicitor.

Tom Thornton.
You won't get very far with that one.

I can't say I'm very fond
of Mr. Thornton.

You know, Mr. Brundish,

there is a certain responsibility
about trying to run a bookshop.

I magine there is.

Especially if not everyone approves of it.

There are certain people

who are rather put up
by your bookshop.

Mrs. Green, I refer to Violet Gamart,

who had other plans
for the Old House,

and who now, it seems,
has taken further offenses only.

I'm sure that she...

means well.

Means well? Violet Gamart?!

That harpy?

What she wants isn't...

arts centre.

Now, I ask you, what the hell does
this damn village need with an arts centre?

And how could art have a center?

But she's got it into her head that it does,
and that's the reason she wants to get rid of you.

And she won't stop...

until she does.

She can't do that.

It's my bookshop. It's my home.

People like Violet Gamart

have made me what I am, Mrs. Green.

Thanks to her connections and acquaintances,

Mrs. Gamart is a very powerful woman.
Does that not concern you?

No.

May I get back
to the reason for my visit?

I'm thinking of making
a first order of Lolita

of 250 copies,
which would be a considerable risk.

Of course, I'm not consulting you in a
business sense. That would be quite wrong.

All I want to know,
before I put in the order,

is whether you think it's a good book

and whether you that it is right
that I should sell it in Hardborough.

I do not attach as much importance
as you do, I dare say,

to the notions of right and wrong.

I have read Lolita,
as you asked me to.

It is a good book,

and therefore I think you should try
and sell it to the people of Hardborough.

They won't understand it,
but that's all for the best.

Understanding makes the mind lazy.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Brundish.

Well, I have given you my opinion.

Let me tell you
what it is I admire

about human beings.

What I value most

it is the one virtue they share
with gods and animals,

and which I will therefore no longer
refer to as a virtue.

I mean...

courage.

And you, Mrs. Green...

possess that quality in abundance.

I would like...

I would like to help.

You make me believe,...

once more, in things...

Things I thought forgotten.

Thank you for the tea, Mr. Brundish.
Everything was delicious.

Well, please...

come again when you wish.

And good luck with Lolita.

Yes, thank you..

I musn't let myself worry.
"Where there is life, there is hope."

God! What a horrifying thought.

Yes!

Thank you...

for your advice, Mr. Brundish.

My pleasure.

Do you think Dandelion Wine
will be coming soon?

I must say I can't thank you enough

for introducing me to Ray Bradbury.

We'll have Wally bring it round.

Or, maybe, I'll bring it ...

to you.

Well...

I would like that very much.

We've never had so many
of the same one before.

Such a long one!

This book is already famous, Christine.
Everybody's heard of it.

Though I don't suppose they ever expected
they'd be able to buy it here in Hardborough.

What they won't expect
is to find 250 copies!

You've really lost your head
over this one.

THE NOVEL
THAT IS SHOCKING THE WORLD

"September 4, 1959."

"Dear Mrs. Green,"

I have in my possession
a letter from John Drury & Co.,

legal representative
of Mrs. Violet Gamart of The Stead,

to the effect
that the current state of your window display

is attracting rather undesirable attention

from both potential and actual customers.

Their client likewise assures

that she feels personally affronted

by the fact that she,
in her position as justice of the peace

and chairman of numerous committees
(list enclosed herewith),

must carry out her shopping expeditiously.

Dear Mr. Thornton,

You have been my solicitor now for several years,
which allows me to infer that 'acting for me'

means 'acting energetically on my behalf'.

Have you even seen the window display
for yourself?

"Dear Mrs. Green,

In response to your missive
September 5,

I have attempted on two occasions
to approach your shop window,

but found it impossible."

- Understood?
- Yes, Mrs. Green.

"Dear Mr. Thornton.

What exactly is your advice then?

Yours truly, Florence Green."

"I think we should eliminate
the agglomerations,

stop your customers from assembling
in the narrowest part of the high street,

before any formal complaint is made.

And I also think
we should put an end

to the sale of this banal and sensationalistic
novel by V. Nabokov,

that has given rise to so many complaints."

"Dear Mr. Thornton,

A good book is the precious distillation
of a master spirit

embalmed and preserved for the purpose
of achieving a life beyond life,

which is why it is, undoubtedly,
a necessary commodity.

Yours sincerely, Florence Green. "

"Dear Madam,

With regard to your request
for an express prohibition

concerning Mrs. Florence Green...

we regret to inform you

We regret to inform you that,
after having been duly advised,

it would be best
to drop this matter,

as the reported crowd seem
to have been curbed by the local police.

My deepest, deepest apologies,
Mrs. Gamart. "

Why won't you come to London?

I can't think of anything worse
than living in London.

You know how I feel about people.

Look at this, look at this,
this is absolutely stunning!

I'm not staying here!

What do you mean you're not staying?
Where are you going?

Oh for goodness sake! You have to
just keep storming off...

I've told you...

I'm sick of people like Violet!

- What?
- I can't take it anymore, Milo!

Wait. Just be careful,
otherwise you're going to slip!

Hold on. Wait!

What on earth are you doing
sitting there, Florence?

I do not know why I go for walks,
it looks like a pensioner.

- And I should get to work.
- Is there room on that step for me?

- Yes.
- I'm Kattie, Mrs. Green.

Milo has told me so much about you.

Kattie wouldn't believe there were
any nice spots in Hardborough,

so I brought her out here
to see for herself.

And what is is
that you do at the BBC, Kattie?

I work for the RPD.
Recorded Programmes Department.

Monitoring expenses...
It's not exactly exciting.

We've just been for lunch
with Violet Gamart.

Gave her a chance
to not disapprove of us.

Mrs. Gamart is very kind.

Well, not really.

I don't like kind people.

Except for Florence.

Don't flatter me.

I get the feeling
you work less and less every day.

Don't forget the BBC
is a corporation,

and your salary is paid for
with public funding.

Kattie deals with that.
She's in charge of my expenses sheet.

Are not you cold, my darling?

Perhaps this time we ought to
quibble off back to our humble abode,

and leave Florence alone,
lost in her thoughts.

I think I'll stay here a little longer.

- As long as I'm not bothering you.
- No, not at all.

Milo told me you're a widow.

Yes, yes, I am.

'A widow.'

Such a strange, dark word,
don't you think?

My husband died...

16 years ago.

How did you meet?

We met in a bookshop actually.
In London.

We were in love from the first moment.

We had to organize the...

organize and classify
the poetry section together at Muller's.

He used to read aloud to me
every night.

Pepys, and George Eliot, and Thackeray...

"Never give a lady a restive horse".

We loved that one!

We were very happy...

busy doing a million things
and nothing.

And then the war came.

But I still have his letters,
all his letters, and I...

I can still...

hear his voice in my head
when I read them.

Milo didn't do you justice
when he described you to me.

Oh dear, spare me from Milo's appraisal.

I don't think I want to know
what he thinks of me.

I still don't know
what he thinks of me.

Or if he feels something for me.

Or, for that matter,
if he feels anything at all.

I guess that's part
of his thing...

keeping you guessing all the time.

You know what they say,

"With that kind of man you never know
whether he's hiding a rich inner world or...

absolutely nothing".

He'll never read aloud to me.

Aunt Vi!

So, your bill is already having
its third reading. Excellent!

And I have you to thank
for all your inspiration, Aunt Vi.

Whatever do you mean?

The idea came to me during your party
last spring.

Your wonderful campaign
in favour of an arts centre

could become a reality
with a bill like this.

And other communities
could benefit as well from...

philanthropists such as yourself.

Well, I've only done
what I felt was right.

The Access to Places of Public Value Bill

will make sure the town councils
can acquire their historic properties

by compulsory purchase
for public use.

Isn't it wonderful?

I'm sure your father is smiling down on us
from heaven with great pride at this very moment.

And I'm just so glad we arranged
to meet today of all days.

Precisely when the bill
has been approved.

Do you fancy fish for lunch?

I know a wonderful place
around the corner.

I'm afraid living in Hardborough
puts you off eating fish anywhere else.

It's so fresh down there.

So true.

A spot of tea then?

Perfect!

Then I shall continue
with what I was doing.

I have a sick friend
who needs my attention.

You're such a wonderful,
generous woman, Aunt Vi.

Carry on with your work.
Heads down.

Eyes down.
On with your work!

No need to get up, children.

I'm the inspector.

No, you're not!

I'm sorry,
I don't think I know you.

Mrs. Traill?

My name is Sheppard.

If you'd be so kind, you may examine my
certificate from the Ministry of Education Authority.

It authorizes me,
under the Shops Act of 1950,

to visit any school

where I have cause to believe
that there are children studying

who also engage in some sort of work.

Work?! I can assure you
they'd all love to have a job.

Outside of family businesses
and newspaper deliveries,

you tell me what else
awaits them out there?

And by the way...

I don't remember you
ever visiting here before.

Well, due to staff shortages,

our visits are not quite as frequent
as we would like them to be.

So, who suggested
you come this time?

There is only one
who has a steady job after school.

Christine Gipping
who works regularly.

Where?

The Old House Bookshop.

Stand up, Christine.

If you'll excuse me.

- This is the girl.
- Miss, would you mind coming with me!

- Good day.
- Good day.

I don't want you to think
I hold anything against you.

The law is the law.
That's something I came to say.

Experience is important.

The job also says they want her to have experience,
but where can we get it?

But we always tell Christine
that if she needs references,

she only has to come to you.

Yes, of course.
All she has to do is ask.

Christine is a wonderful girl,
Mrs. Gipping, and...

I'm very, very fond of her.

But now she'll have an opportunity
to concentrate on her studies.

But she doesn't want
to give up earning money.

No, of course not, but I suppose
after what happened at the school...

Well, we've been looking round a bit.

And we hope they'll be hiring her
to work Saturdays at that new bookshop.

New bookshop?

Yes, they will open very soon.
You know. In Deben's.

The fish shop.

I had no idea.

You really must keep an eye
on the competition, Mrs. Green.

You will give Christine those references,
won't you?

She had no way of knowing this,

but the new bookshop
was not an enterprise like her own,

but an investment
by the simple-minded Lord Gosfield

on the advice of the General
and Mrs. Gamart.

- Thank you for coming, Mrs. Green.
- No need to thank me, Mr. Keble.

Do you realize how very little
working capital you have at the moment?

Yes. It's rather difficult
not to notice.

I daresay things have taken quite a dip
in your business of late, haven't they?

I thought you might like to know
there's a possible buyer for your shop.

Thank you very much.

Mr. Keble...

The shop is not for sale.

Message received.

Thank you for coming.

It has been an incalculable help.

Well...

I really shall miss you.

I don't want to go, you know.

I don't want to work
in that other bookshop.

My mother, she simply doesn't understand...

No, please.
You musn't worry about that.

How can I not worry?

You can't manage this place by yourself.

And no one in this village
will help you.

I shall manage, I absolutely...
I shall manage.

I do hope you'll come by.
From time to time. In the evenings...

I won't have the time.

Yes. No.

No, of course you'll be busy.

I've got something for you.

Now you won't have to wait
until my funeral.

You're so kind, Mrs. Green.

You're so bloody kind!

Good afternoon, Florence.
Mrs. Green.

Mr. Brundish.

How are things coming along
down there?

I think you know
as well as I do, don't you?

I do know some of it.

What do you intend to do?

Do?

The only thing I can do.

Yes.

No!

Carry on.

That's what I was going to do.

Florence...

I would very much like
to have met you at another time in my life.

In another life altogether.

But I'm going to do what...

small thing is in my power
to help you.

Mr. Brundish, it's ...

It's very warming to hear, and...

I so appreciate it.

You musn't...

There is nothing you...

I will have a word with her.
I will talk to that woman.

She might just listen, she might...

put an end to this loathesome harrassment.

You'd really do that?

Really?

Come out of your seclusion for me?

Indeed I will.

I don't know that it should be of much use,
but I'm willing.

I could just put
a bullet through her, but...

I'm not sure
that would be to your liking.

I don't know
how to ever thank you, that's...

That's the most...

noble gesture
anyone has ever made for me.

You work too hard, Florence.

I try to concentrate.

Please put those down. They've only
just come in. I haven't checked them yet.

Surely you have to succeed
if you give everything you have.

I can't see why.

Everyone gives everything they have
eventually.

We all die.
Dying is hardly a success.

Too young to bother about dying.

I believe Kattie might snuff it..

- She wastes so much energy.
- How is Kattie?

No idea.

As a matter of fact,
she's left me.

She's... well, she's gone to live
with someone else.

In Wantage.

She's... you know...

He works in the World Service.

I'm opening my heart to you.

We're having a special moment,
aren't we?

I expect you have told everyone
in Hardborough who'll listen to you.

Yes, but it affects you particularly

because I'll have so much more
free time as of now.

I'll be able to work here,
part-time, as your assistant.

I guess you must miss
that little girl.

Christine learned a great deal
when she was here,

and he was extremely nice
with the customers.

Not as nice as I can be.

So...

How much can you pay me?

I gave Christine 12 shillings
and 6 pence a week.

I won't be able to offer any more
than that at the moment.

If you are interested in the job,
you may come by in the afternoons

for a few weeks and try it out.

Trial period!

But please remember I didn't offer
you the job. You asked yourself.

Has anyone ever told you
you have a marvellous pair of ankles?

Oh, do shut up!

Go home!

OPEN

CLOSED

"Shower down thy love, o burning bright"

For one night or the other night
will come the gardener in white

and gathered flowers are dead."

Christine!

You'd better watch out, Mr. North.

What unpleasant expressions
they teach you in that school!

I didn't come her to see people of...

your sort.

Why...?

Why are you not helping Ms. Green anymore?

She misses you.

She's got you, hasn't she?
You're always in and out.

They say they won't
let her keep the bookshop.

- They say? Who say? You say?
- You know very well who.

- They have other plans for the Old House.
- Why do you even care, you little shrimp?

They say she can't keep it.

She'll go after her.
She'll take her to court.

She'll just swear to tell the truth.

The whole truth
and nothing but the truth.

Well, we must hope
that it doesn't come to that.

I never had the time to sit around
when I was her assistant.

No wonder!
You're a child...

or a woman.

Neither of them have any idea
of how to relax.

You'd just better watch out!

I've come to get this.
It belongs to my mum.

Thank you.

Give me a moment.

What a pleasant surprise,
Mr. Brundish.

Please, have a seat.

Thank you.

I have come to ask you something.

I don't know if
if this is the proper way to do so,

but I can't think of a better one.

If you are not in the mood for questions,
you should say so now.

Would you like some tea?

I don't want your tea.

I want you to leave Florence Green alone.

- Did she ask you to come and see me?
- Certainly not.

She is simply a woman
who wants to keep a bookshop.

If Ms. Green has reason to complain,
I suppose we should turn to a solicitor.

Though I believe she's rather given
to changing her legal advice.

The bookstore is drafty,
impossible to mortgage a second time,

and from what I've heard: damp!

Leave her alone.
The woman has done nothing to you.

Has is not occured to you,
as someone who must be extremely concerned

about the welfare
and future of this place,

that a building of such historical interest
could be put to a better use.

Old age is not the same thing
as historical interest.

Otherwise you and I would be
far more interesting than we are.

I repeat, I want you to leave my friend
Florence Green alone!

Alone!

Well, it appears your friend has failed
to take the law into consideration.

Something which I've observed
on several occasions.

If that is the case,
I can have nothing to say in the matter.

The law will have
to take its course.

Are you referring to a law
that didn't exist a year ago

and that parliament approved
behind our backs?

I'm talking about an order
for compulsory purchase,

or an eviction,
which is the proper term.

Did you put your precious nephew
up to drafting that bill?

I won't deny my nephew's bill
may affect the bookshop,

as it is essential the premises
must have remained empty for five years.

That would undoubtedly apply
to the Old House.

But there are so many regulations
to be considered, Mr. Brundish.

Ordinary mortals like myself
and of course like you

would hardly know where to begin.

I am in politics,

and, subsequently,
I'm fairly familiar with bureaucracy,

but this goes way beyond me.

We wouldn't even know
how to find the right person to write to.

Madam, I know perfectly well
who to write to.

Over the past years,
if I'd not made it my business to know,

I would have lost
several hundred acres of marshes,

and farming land, and two pumping mills.

That's why I'm certain
that if nothing has been done so far,

we can still form
a common front against them.

We can certainly think of ways
of making the move easier

if it is actually made.

There are still plenty
of other places to let

in larger towns than Hardborough.

That's not what I'm talking about!

You should be talking about
what I'm talking about.

I wish I could do something more.

I assume then
that you intend to do nothing.

You mustn't speak to me
that way, Mr. Brundish.

You don't realize
what you are saying.

You seem to think
I'm an outrageous person.

Is that it?

I can't answer that question
"yes" or "no".

I suspect that by "outrageous"
you mean "unexpectedly offensive",

and the truth is
you have been fairly offensive, but also...

repulsive, Mrs. Gamart.

That is, you have behaved
exactly as I expected.

Good afternoon, General.

You wouldn't like a book,
would you?

Not exactly.

I just came to say:

"A good man has left us."

I believe you knew Edmund Brundish
quite well, did you not?

I feel as though I did.

I never crossed words
with him at all.

He was in the First Mess, of course...

but not in the Suffolks.

He signed up for the Air Force,
I believe.

He wanted to fly.

How odd.

It was also odd that he came
to see us that very morning.

I wanted to speak to your wife,
I imagine.

Yes, you're quite right.

Violet told me all about it.

He made a great effort to go see her...

to congratulate her on her idea.

I'm referring to the Arts Centre.

I'm sorry I didn't get a chance
to speak to him.

I must say I would
never have imagined him

being interested in art.

But well...

A good man has left us.

Anyone could suffer an attack like that

if you think about it.

You musn't be late
to your lunch party, General.

Leave my house
and don't ever come back.

And please...

don't you or your wife
ever again malign

a man who had more dignity...

sensitivity...

and compassion than either of you
will have in your time.

Don't ever say his name again.

And forget mine.

But she...

Violet...

LEAVE!

So it seems I have been evicted
by the city of Flintmarket.

As we mentioned
during our last phone conversation,

it seems there's a new parliament bill
which allows Flintmarket Council

to take over ownership of the Old House.

Yes.

And I should like to know,
if I may,

where the Council obtained the funds
necessary to throw me out?

They apparently found a benefactor.

What concerns me is if the Old House
is considered to be habitable or not.

If it turns out that it is unfit
for human habitation,

or indeed subsidence is threatened,
then it will be impossible to demand compensation.

You won't see a penny.

I'm inhabiting it
and I'm still human.

It's not even as damp
as all that.

In the summer
it's really quite dry and in mid-winter...

Here is an inspection of the cellars,

according to which the property
is standing in half an inch of water.

Sorry, what inspection?

I wasn't informed of any inspection,
I don't think.

Apparently, on several occasions,
when you were absent from the property,

an expert in masonry and plastering,
a Mr. John Gipping,

was sent by the Council

to inspect the condition
of the walls and the cellars.

John Gipping? Christine's father?

We assume he entered peaceably.

I don't remember letting him in myself.

Your assistant, Mr. Milo North...

Everyone assumed
he acted as your servant

and was following your instructions.

Have you any comments?

What leaves us
in a difficult position

is the fact that Mr. North
has also signed a statement,

according to which the level of dampness
in the property has affected his health,

making him unable to accept
any type of ordinary employment.

Why?

There is no why.

They asked me persistently,
so you know...

I simply thought I'd better do it.

If you're looking for a new assistant,
I believe Christine is available.

She's no longer working
at the new bookshop.

She tried to sell Lolita
to the vicar.

Florence!

Mrs. Green! Mrs. Green!

- Christine.
- Mrs. Green.

Mrs. Green.

Goodbye.

For years to come,

I will remember how she tried to smile
looking at the book I had in my hands.

Then, she realized

what I had done.

She had fulfilled the dream,

and they'd snatched it
away from her.

But what she possessed deep down

was something no one could ever
take away from her.

Her courage.

And it was that courage
and her passion for books

that she bequeathed to me,

along with the Chinese lacquered tray.

How right she was when she said

that no one ever feels alone

in a bookshop.