All language subtitles for 080 - 06x11 - the tribute

Hello?

Nelly?

Yes?

It's Mabel.
What?

Mabel.

Who?

Mabel Ince.

Oh, yes.

We've just heard
and we thought

we ought to let you know
that poor Dench, she's dead.

Who?

Dench.
Dench?

Yes, poor, darling Denchy.

I thought she died years ago,

must have been 100.

Oh, nonsense, Nelly.

She was old in the War.

She was wonderful in the War.

Eh, Nelly, Fanny is with me.

Who?

Fanny Soane.

Oh, Fanny.

Thought she was dead, too.

Oh, what is she saying?

Oh, she's absolutely hopeless.

We thought we ought to do
something, put in a tribute.

A what?

A tribute to Dench in "The Times."

I don't know about "The Times" anymore.

- Well, then--
- Let me.

"The Telegraph," perhaps.

Yes, all right,
then, "The Telegraph."

So you do agree--

Sorry, I can't go on.

It's too expensive.

Nelly, I'm paying
for the call.

Nelly?

She's hung up.

Oh, Nelly Benson is
impossible, absolutely ga-ga.

Oh, she's always
been impossible.

She wasn't in the
least bit interested

about poor, old Dench.

When one thinks
how much Denchy

did for those awful children--

Saw the famous Charlotte
through various pneumonia,

didn't she?

Oh, she did.

Nelly just went off to join
Charles in Geneva, left dear

old Dench to it.

It wasn't as though Dench
was ever paid, or anything.

At least, I never paid her.

Did you?

Oh, no, just her keep.

Well, I just couldn't, I
mean, she-- she never asked.

No-- poor as a
church mouse, probably.

One just fed her.

She came to stay.

'To stop, as she called it.

Oh, yes, 'to stop'--

so she did, bless her.

What did I do with that?

I suppose "The
Telegraph" is all right?

Oh, Dench adored "The
Times," didn't she?

I don't believe she
could have born life

without the Court Circular.

"It rivets
me," she used to say.

"It rivets me."

Mabel, what are you looking for?

I found a photograph of
Dench only the other day.

I must have To put it somewhere.

Do you think she
was ill very long?

For the last Christmas card
I had from her was shaky.

In fact, I think there
was only the signature.

And the little message
was written by some niece.

Hm.

Oh, do you want some more tea?

No, dear, thank you.

Did you ever get a sort of
begging letter about Dench?

Oh, yes.

I think that was
from the niece, too.

She wanted to get poor
Dench into some sort

of private nursing home.

I meant to send a
fiver or something,

but it was just before
we went off to Penang.

I do hate that sort of
letter-- it's so embarrassing

all around.

One feels one can't possibly
do enough, so one does nothing.

Now, of course, we just
have our service pension.

So do we.

Hm, we could do with
a whip around ourselves.

I wish we had a niece.

I did feel a bit
dreadful about it, though.

I think if we did
this tribute now,

I should feel better about it.
Shall we ring around?

Yes, let's-- there
must be half a dozen

families who want to join in.

It's about, uh, two
pounds a line, isn't it?

Yes, all we need say is
"In memory of dear Dench,

beloved nanny."

Oh, I think
"--and friend--

Nanny and friend for many
years," and the names

of the families.

I think it's a very
nice idea, Mabel.

If we get enough
people, it shouldn't

come to more than say, what,
a pound each, eh, should it?

Well, that's the least we
can do, I mean, isn't it--

With or without Nelly Benson.

Humphrey!

Hello?

Mabel?
- Nelly?

Had this letter.

Letter?

From the niece.

Ah, yes, we all did.

What?

Fanny and I did, too.

The niece wants to meet us.

Yes.

We thought somewhere
like Fortnums for lunch.

A lunch?

Much too expensive.

Oh, well, somewhere nice.

And we won't put anything
in the newspaper.

Why not?

It's just the point--

we'll make the
lunch our tribute.

It's utter nonsense, anyway.

Oh, silly old bag.

Sandwiches are on
the table, Roderic.

And only two sugars
in your tea, dear--

you know it's bad for you.

Mabel, we must hurry--

I'm sure we're late.

Eh, you grow your
own vegetables?

Divine.

I just couldn't find you.

I thought it was Wimbledon,
but, well, really,

it's Rayne's Park, isn't it?

Oh, an elephant's foot!

Oh, it's a boot-scraper.

Oh, what a good idea.

It's a far cry the
maharaja's palace, I'm afraid.

Well, at least Dench has been spared

seeing what's become of us all.

Used to talk about
love of country.

Do you remember how she stood
for the national anthem?

Well, now we all did that.

We still do-- don't you?

No, not like Dench did.

I mean, to attention,
like a ramrod.

Half a lifetime of invitations--

menus, notes, guest lists.

Do you remember Prague?

Those high ceilings--

someone once told me why
ceilings at embassies

are always so high--
it's to take the noise

of the cocktail parties.

Didn't old Dench love cocktail parties?

Oh, I used to let her
watch, sometimes--

you know, with the
children on the landing,

out of sight, of course.

I've just thought
of Nelly's invitation.

Gloves.

Gloves.

Lots of left-hand courting--

"Gloves will be worn."

My God-- is-- is that her?

Nelly, you're not going
in bedroom slippers.

Well, why get me feet
into it, except Wellingtons?

Go about-- I have
this house to run.

Nelly, I do think you--

I use my Wellies
for gardening.

Bedroom slippers are not
suitable for lunch, Nelly.

Well, I think I have a pair
of Dr. Scholls somewhere.

I remember
that hat, Mabel.

You bought it for the
queen's birthday-do once

in Dar es Salaam, which
reminded me of a dead blackbird.

I think perhaps we're out
of the fourth form now, Nelly.

Where are you now, Mabel?

I heard you had to
sell the castle.

I suppose old Humphrey
lost his money.

Oh, Nelly, do be quiet.

Horses-- always lost on
the horse, did Humphrey--

really flung it about.

Where do you live now?
- Newbury.

Near the course, I suppose.

Not at all.

He watches on television.

I can't afford one.

And where do you live, Fanny?

Oh, Wimbledon.

Oh, that's a pity--

a long way from London--

fairer than Newbury, in a sense.

Fanny has a charming house--

Featherby Road,
delicious red brick.

I wouldn't be at all
surprised if it had

been designed by Norman Shaw.

Norman Shaw?

Wasn't he ADC in Panagarh?
- Yes.

Terrible, old pansy.

Dench couldn't bear it.

Didn't approve.

I come up to town to
the diplomatic wives.

Well, Dench would
have approved of that.

Poor Dench-- she
was never a wife.

There was a man once, though.

The children used to
tease her about him--

some Brazilian
millionaire, a widower.

No, no, not a widower--
very much married--

Catholic.

What was his name?

The children used to
call him Mr. Salteena.

Mr. Salteena.

What did they do that?

It's from a book, Nelly.

Do you suppose he really existed?

Well, I have no idea.

Do you think she was a lesbian?

Well, I mean some nannies are,
subconsciously, of course.

Dench a subconscious--

ready.

Mrs. Ince.

Oh, yes-- your table.

This is nice.

We can see everything here.

Oh, thank you.

I'm sorry, they seem to have
held a corner table for you,

if you'd be so kind.

Waiter!

Waiter!

Oh, really, they shove
our way to a corner

then completely ignore us.

Young man?

Ma'am?

We're expecting a young
woman to join us, a Miss Dench.

Would you please show
her to this table?

She will ask for Lady Benson.

Yes, ma'am.

How will we know
her, the niece?

She's quite young, isn't she?

Sounded quite young
in the letter.

She's probably
the great niece.

A little sherry while
you're waiting, madam?

Not yet, thank you.

Thank you, madam.

How are we going to know her?

Any of these women could be
nieces, eating their lunch.

Well, a lot of people
are nieces and eat lunch.

I mean, we've all been nieces.

Oh, not primarily.

We were never primarily
nieces To be niece is probably

their only function in life.

I think I once
saw Dench's niece.

Nieces, nieces, what
are you talking about?

I went down to East Moseley
about seven or eight years ago

to see Dench and I think it
was the niece who let me in--

nice little woman.

Yes, I think I shall remember
the face when I see it.

Masses of ironing about.

Ironing?

Yes, on arrows.

You know, those old-fashioned
standing arrows,

all over the sitting room.

Ironing?

Oh, beautiful ironing, it was.

I remember the smell--

a lovely, clean,
warm clothes smell.

Huh-- and Denchy in
a bed in the corner.

Oh, she did look so small.

Yes, a very good sort of woman,
I should think, the niece.

Bed in the sitting room?

Oh, I suppose that's what you
meant about the nursing home.

Oh, come one,
Dench was no trouble.

Ate like a bird.

Yes, Dench was cheap.

During the war--

I found that photograph.

If ever we got anything
on the black market--

there were some eggs once.

Mabel has an old
photo of Dench.

Not on her own, of
course-- with the children.

Which one is Dench?

Oh, don't be so provoking, Nelly.

That's Dench with my three.

There are four children.

That's what made
me think of it.

We were at home at the
time, in Lincolnshire.

And somebody brought
us six beautiful eggs--

well, fresh eggs during the War.

We had them boiled as a treat.

There was Humph and I, and my
three, and this little thing

who was staying with us--

Polly Knox.

Oh, you remember the Knoxes--

pretty child, ancient daughter.

Although, there
was two, of course.

The eggs, dear.

Hm?

Oh, well, there were seven
of us and only six eggs,

and somebody said,
what about Dench?

And little Polly Knox said, you
shall have half mine, Denchy.

And Denchy absolutely straight
away, said, thank you, my dear,

but I do take eggs.

She used to say
that about cream--

thank you, I do not take cream.

Mm, she had a pretty
good life, I should think,

old Denchy.

I wonder if she ever
got the old age pension?

I never paid her stamp--

did you?

Oh, do you think we
should have sherry?

Yes.

All right, yes-- well,
she's very late, the niece.

We'll have sherry.

Waiter?

Waiter?

Three sherries,
please-- very dry--

ooh, dry?
- Yes.

Dry?
Very dry.

Yes, madam.

What about ordering some wine?

Well, this is a
tribute, isn't it,

and I want the niece
to think that we've

done things properly.

Do they have half bottles?

We can't order wine--

we don't know what the
niece is going to eat.

Nelly, don't be so tiresome.

Where's my bag?

Someone's stolen
my shopping bag.

I can't think
anyone would want to.

Oh, look, Nelly.
There it is.

Do take care.

Oh, I wonder if
I have time before

that wretched niece arrives
to go down to that fish place?

I thought I'd get
some Finnan haddock.

Frightfully expensive, Nelly.

Yes, frightfully.

At least it's a B
Finnan and haddock--

where I live, they're
just as likely to pass

off a piece of dyed cod.

But I think we should all
be here when the nieces comes.

Mm, if she comes, which
I'm beginning to doubt.

Well, what does
she want us for?

It was in the latter, Nelly--

mementos.

Well, I
think we should order.

She's obviously not coming now.

You'd be lucky
to catch his eye.

Well, let's all know what
they're going to have--

how about chicken
ala king all around?

Well, I don't want
anything to start with.

Oh, no, nothing to start with.

We don't want to spend money
if the niece isn't coming.

Well, a salad with the chicken?

Green salad.

I want vegetables.

Never seem to eat vegetables.

I was trying to remember
when we first met Dench.

I found her--

$1.25?

--in Jamaica on her way
back from Rio, sitting all

alone at a table at The Mona.

And I thought, what a
charming, little woman.

And she looked so sad.

I suppose she just
left Mr. Salteena.

She was sad.

Mm, not a bean.

Well, the children took
to her, and I thought,

she might be just the
thing and I took her on.

That was over 40 years ago.

Oh, devoted, utterly
reliable, but-- but so sad.

We used to send her
good presents, though.

A pound of tea at Christmas
when we're in salon.

My dear, that woman's
coming over to our table.

And that can't be
the niece, can it?

Oh, not if she's
bringing parcels

this one is now carrying.

Dears-- I am so
terribly sorry.

I was late getting away, and we
found it so difficult to park.

Chedward couldn't stay with
the car because of the parcels.

On the shelf, Chedward,
don't you think?

I do hope you went ahead--

oh, dear.

Thank you.

I'm afraid they're nothing much.

She said in the will that
you were to have mementos,

but she had so little.

You'd not believe how little--

so few possessions.
Thank you, Chedward.

Well, champagne?

Thank you.

We are here to celebrate the
life, a happy life of one

of the dearest, dearest, old--

I won't call this
an 'in memoriam.'

Denchy couldn't bear to
talk about anything gloomy.

She led the happiest
life and died peacefully

thinking about us all.

A good dry-- that
one, number six.

Certainly, madam.

Thank you.

Well.

I'm sure we're all
very glad to know

that Dench was so happy.

Did you say ironing?

I believe she talked about
you three more than anyone else.

Day after day,
year in, year out--

all the places she'd
seen through you

and how you rescued her, Mrs.
Ince, when she was in very

low water, and gave
her an absolutely free

hand with all your children,
and even grandchildren,

Lady Benson.

Ah, how nice.

We all grew to rely
on her very much.

She always knew her--

Oh, just pour it out.

Uh, would it be an awful bore

to put the champagne on
a separate bill for me,

and then anything--

And she wanted us

to pay for the nursing home--

my God.

We all knew Dench for a
great number of years.

A great number of years.

She was a very good servant.

And friend-- nanny and friend.

We were all devoted to her.

Do you remember the roses?

Persia-- Dench was looking
after your children,

Lady Benson, when Simon,
wasn't it, kicked her?

And your daughter said,
Dench must have some roses,

and took the secateurs
and a basket,

and led her out into the garden?

And you leaned out of the window
and said, only three, now.

Three roses-- priceless.

You do remember those gardens?

One of the sites of Persia--

2,000 rose trees.

Ah, Dench, she laughed.

I wouldn't have thought
Denchy had enough room

for displaying a lot of roses.

Oh, of course not, she
was always in the attic.

She wasn't minding, it just made
us both laugh when she told it.

To Dench.

To Dench.

To Dench.

I felt, personally, very
sorry about the nursing home

business.

I'd liked to have helped
Dench, even taken her myself,

for a week or two, just
to help the family out,

but we were abroad.

Oh, but she refused,
didn't you know?

You mustn't worry.

It was all settled
about the nursing home

without your kind help.

I promise you, she never
knew you'd been asked.

She always had my shoes.

The one thing I miss most,
if you really want to know--

good shoes.

The shoes are still there--

rows and rows.

They're very old-fashioned,
but if you wish,

I could let you have
them back, I'm sure.

Dench never wore them--
they were too big.

Though she was a lamb, I'm
sure she never told you.

And these--

Ma'am.

--these are
the little mementos.

All I could find,
and I am so sorry--

Mrs. Ince, Lady Benson.

Just little brass things--

a Banares tray, a hand-bell.

Oh-- thank you--

an elephant's foot.

It could be adapted
as a boot scraper.

Well, it's very
good of you to bother.

Very good.

I-- I feel honored--

to think that these
things were all she had

and she left them to us.

All she had.

Well, except for the money.

Money?

The South American money.

Dench?

From Mr. Salteena,
as we used to call him.

You mean, he did exist?

Oh, yes, Mr. Salteena existed.

He left her $400--

Sweet.

--thousand-- $400,000.

He died only a short time before
she did, but there it was.

She left $200,000
of it to her niece.

Aren't you the niece?

Me?

Oh, darling, darling,
Lady Benson, didn't I say?

Didn't-- didn't
you recognize me?

Oh, dear, of course,
it's been so long.

Oh, how silly-- I was so fussed
being late I forgot to say--

her niece said no.

She couldn't face it, coming up
to London to, as she called it,

'this posh place.'

The money hasn't
altered her a bit.

She said she had the ironing.

Ironing.

Well, then, who are--

But I'm Polly Knox.

You must remember me--

Polly Knox.

I've kept in touch with
Dench all these years.

She left the other
$200,000 to me,

and I've been astounded and
quite speechless ever since.

Her niece said,
Dench just lay there

in bed with the solicitor's
letter on the counterpane

and smiled.

And her niece asked her,
why Polly Knox, Auntie?

And dear old Dench said--

I mean, I must
say, I've wondered

been ever since what on earth?

She meant.

What did she say?

She just said, tell Polly,
she shall have half my egg.