Original subtitles

Hello.

Hi.

Hello, Anthony. - Hello, Alison.

Alec?

There you are. - Oh, wonderful, thank you.

Those are lovely.

Aren't they?

How's it going?

Nearly there. Final chapter.

When do you think you'll send it? - Next week.

I hope they bite.

Fingers crossed.

Lunch in 15 minutes. Oh, don't forget your pills.

Where are they? - Bedside table.

I've got to get back for two o'clock.

Alec, lunch is ready.

Alec?

Alec?

Alec?

Alec?

Alec!

Alec? Alec! Alec!

Alec! No. Come on. Alec! Come on.

Alec!

Alec! Alec! Alec, please, someone help me. Someone help me!

Wake up!

Come on, don't die on me. Don't die on me, please!

Please!

Help me! Help me! Help!

Alec!

Alec!

Ealing, 6542.

Father Timothy, it's Alison Wilson.

What is it?

It's Alec. It's his heart.

You should tell your doctor. I'll be there within the hour.

Thank you.

Hello? - Hello?

Hello?

Mrs Wilson.

Coleman? - Yes.

Alec told me to call this number...

he's just died.

Thank you for letting us know.

Should I...? - Act normally. Carry on as usual.

That's all we need from you.

And admit him, who has no hope

but in Thy mercy

to the sacrament of Thy reconciliation.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Would you like a moment alone

before the undertaker arrives?

Bye, my love.

Mum, Dad, I'm home! I scored a try!

I'm so sorry, Nigel.

But did he say anything...

before...?

He told me to look after you both.

He loved you so much.

Have you called Gordon? - Yes, he'll be home tomorrow.

Hey, come on, Nige - hey, what will Father Timothy think?

Let him let it all out.

Here...

Shh.

They were very close, you see. We were just...

It's alright.

I don't suppose you're hungry

but maybe Nigel...

and if there's anything that we can do...

We're so sorry.

That's so kind of you, Olive. Thank you.

He was such a lovely man.

- I wondered what you were up to. - Who'll do the tree now?

I used to love it when Dad took us to Blakefield.

Shall we switch this off?

- Another sympathy pie? - Yeah.

Hello?

Have I come to the right house?

Alexander Wilson?

Yes.

You must be his landlady.

No. No, I'm his wife.

Mrs Wilson.

Alison Wilson.

Are you alright?

Who are you?

Gladys Wilson.

I'm Alec's wife.

W... His ex-wife?

What?

No. No, he's my husband.

Mum?

I'm here to collect his things. - Sorry, my son needs me. It's very late.

I'm sorry for your wasted journey. Good night.

No! Please!

Who was she?

Just your father's cousin.

Why didn't you ask her in?

Ah, they... didn't get on. A terrible woman.

But Dad likes everybody.

Let's call it a night. You must be exhausted.

Night, Mum.

Read it.

Sign it.

Date it.

You've been cleared to work in intelligence, Miss McKelvie.

Tell no-one.

To all intents and purposes, the department where you're going to work

does not exist.

If anyone asks you about your work, you must lie.

You'll be working under me

in the listening headquarters of the Secret Intelligence Service.

Our work is crucial to the war effort.

We intercept information from every embassy in London.

Our agents listen in to all the phone calls

that are made and received, translating everything they hear.

You'll be working for Major Wilson.

You type up every word of his transcripts. You add nothing, you leave nothing out.

Sit here.

Come to do your bit?

Any advice?

Work hard and you'll survive.

Major Wilson's a bit of a star, actually.

Heard of the Leonard Wallace mysteries?

What, the writer, Alexander Wilson?

He's married.

Oh.

London, 800 hours. Briefing from Cairo

restricted until further notice.

Nationalist sympathies strong in the cabinet.

Plans for post-war independence under scrutiny in Al Araby.

We should have lunch, one o'clock?

Tidy desk, tidy mind, Miss McKelvie.

What does Coleman say to you girls?

You all arrive scared to death.

Oh, nothing, nothing much.

"You type up every word! You add nothing, you leave nothing out."

Something like that.

Major Wilson?

Mm.

Could I ask you about your books?

You could

but it's not very interesting.

I just sit at my typewriter and make things up.

Mmm!

Mmm! - You alright?

Just spilled champagne all over myself.

I'll just go to the ladies' room.

You alright?

I just made a fool myself in front of my boss.

No. No, nothing like that. Just...

clumsy idiot. Spilled my drink.

- Are you glad you came to London? - Yes.

Cumberland's beautiful, but...

there's nothing to do there. You'd die without books.

So, do you write?

A little. Poetry, diaries...

Nothing published, of course.

About what?

Oh, just, er...

feelings inside me, thing I want to express.

Does that sound ridiculous? - Not at all.

You want your life to mean something.

Yes, I do.

Do you think there's a moment in your life when you take a leap

and decide...

"Yes, that's who I am"?

Is that what you think?

Working here, you have to keep secrets.

Even from your family. - Yes.

Coleman told me, in no uncertain terms.

My wife finds it very difficult.

I don't think she trusts me.

I think she's gonna leave me.

No, she won't actually leave you. I'm sure she won't.

What makes you say that?

Well, I wouldn't.

You're very honest, Miss McKelvie.

Mum? It's half past eight.

You alright?

Did you manage to sleep?

Oh, don't go to school today.

Gordon will be back soon - I'll make you both some lunch.

I have to go and get ready.

Where are you going? - I have to go out. I'll be back soon.

Hello?

It's Mrs Wilson.

Alison Wilson.

How did you find my flat?

I followed Alec once.

I just wanted to check if you were still his handler.

I know you told me to carry on as usual, but...

We had a visitor last night.

Alec's ex wife - she thinks they're still married.

I couldn't find the divorce papers anywhere. I was just hoping you might have a copy.

Well I, I thought you might have some sort of file on Alec.

Nothing that can be shared with you.

You must have vetted him, before he joined the service.

Of course.

So you looked into who he was.

A writer.

Top-drawer family, married.

And then divorced.

Alec was extremely important to us.

There were so few men fluent in Arabic at the time.

He showed me his divorce papers. - He was an intelligence agent.

It wouldn't have been difficult for him to forge a couple of documents.

Oh, no.

Alec wouldn't lie to me, not like that

not for 20 years.

I'm not saying he did.

Just saying...

it's possible.

They divorced in 1940.

I know they did.

I think you ought to go home.

Shouldn't you be with your sons?

We both know...

how hard it would have been for a Catholic to get a divorce.

Does it even matter now?

She turned up in the middle of the night. I had to lie to my son.

You knew what you were getting into.

This looks wonderful.

No, you look wonderful.

So, right pocket or left pocket?

Hmm.

Right pocket.

Happy birthday.

Oh, Alec.

Keep writing - don't give up.

So, what's in the left pocket?

Your divorce papers...

You do know I'm entirely unsuitable for a young lady like you?

Twice my age.

Twice?

A Catholic.

I didn't think you were religious.

Well, no, I'm not.

My family are Church of England. Well, on Sundays at least.

I've just never had dinner with a divorced man before.

I'm just not sure if... I...

You're right.

You have your whole life ahead of you, Alison.

I've lived too many lives already.

Madam.

Thank you.

- Thank you. - Sir.

Dear Mother, my birthday was super.

My colleagues bought me a beautiful fountain pen.

I'm using it right now!

Work is going really well.

You keep asking what I'm actually doing and the truth is...

well, I know what you're like.

I didn't want to worry you.

I'm driving an ambulance.

Help! Over here!

Help!

Help...

Help!

Help!

I've got nowhere to go.

A War Cabinet has been formed

of five members, representing, with the Liberal opposition

the unity of the nation.

The three party leaders have agreed...

Churchill's on.

...either in the War Cabinet or in high executive office.

The three Fighting Services have been filled.

It was necessary that this should be done in one single day

on account of the extreme urgency and rigor of events...

Hello.

Do you pray every day?

In these uncertain times...

...one needs to have faith.

I have booked the church for the funeral.

We'd like a full mass for Alec.

It's what he would have wanted.

Of course, I assumed as much.

We'll convert Mum in the end, won't we, boys?

Hope you like it strong.

Will you pass the sugar, please, Gordon? - Thank you.

Slice of cake? - Thank you. Please.

Any thoughts on the service? Hymns?

"I Vow To Thee, My Country."

Ah. - Dad was very patriotic.

He always used to make us stand for the National Anthem.

I was wondering if I might say a few words about my father's work?

Well, he worked at the foreign office

as well as his writing, of course.

21 published novels.

Gosh. How on earth did he come up with so many plots?

The amount of work he must have put in, conjuring it all up.

No, the stories just kind of fell out of him.

Um, excuse me a moment.

Hello. How can I help you?

Dennis Wilson.

My mother sent me.

You see, my marriage certificate.

Well, he's changed his name, his date of birth.

Well, it must have been part of his work.

As a clerk in the foreign office?

Look, as I tried to tell your mother, I married Alec in 1941.

He showed me his decree absolute.

But there was no divorce.

Of course there was.

No.

He's been living with me for the last 20 years.

What did you think he was doing?

Working.

Living in digs. Dad said...

"Dad said."

You hardly knew him.

I did.

We did. He...

sent money, visited, never missed a birthday.

I'm sorry, what right do you have coming here?

He lived with us. He loved us.

Why won't you just leave me alone?

We need his body, Mrs Wilson.

For the funeral.

No, but I've arranged a mass in a local church in... in Ealing.

No. - That's what he wanted.

No, no, my mother has arranged a burial service

in Southsea on Friday. - No, but I'm his wife.

And so is my mother.

No, no, she's not. She's deluding herself.

She'd know if she'd signed her own divorce papers, wouldn't she?

Yes. Yes, well, she did. I have proof.

Bring us the papers, then. As soon as you possibly can.

You see what I'm doing?

Hmm?

They've asked me to go undercover.

Do you remember our intercepts from the Egyptian Embassy?

Yes, of course.

Well, since you've left, they've become more sinister.

How?

We're beginning to suspect there are traitors there, talking secretly to the Nazis.

There's a major battle planned at Alamein

and we need to discover what's going on on the ground as soon as possible.

And how do you fit into this?

Because of my Arabic, they want me to go to Cairo.

But the Egyptians will never trust you.

You're right.

Unless I'm given a motive for betrayal. So, we've decided.

The department's gonna fire me.

On what... on what grounds?

They'll just make something up - an arrest, a real stink.

It'll be very public.

You know how it works.

Ah, here he comes. Here he comes.

- This is it, my love. - Alec...

Alec? - It's alright.

No, no, Alec...

Major Wilson, I am arresting you

for wearing uniform under false pretences. - No, Alec, please.

It's alright, I come in peace.

You come however I tell you.

Alec, please.

Take Gordon home, love.

Hey.

Hey, love, oh...

You look smart, Mum.

Back to work, I'm afraid.

I thought you could help me write my eulogy.

Yes, of course, I can

but later. Um...

would you buy something for tea?

Yeah.

Thank you, boys.

Hey. Shh.

On this glorious December day

a month after the allied victory at El Alamein

we're going to play you Rachmaninoff...

Why isn't he home, eh?

Hey? Where's Daddy? Hey?

Go home, Mrs Wilson.

The Alamein campaign is over, why isn't he back?

Go home and wait for your husband.

Please just tell me where he is.

Stop asking questions.

Now, look at this...

Gordon, candles!

Oh!

You're home.

Hello.

Um, yes, I'm looking for the divorce papers that dissolved this marriage.

Alexander and Gladys Wilson, married in 1919.

But there's no decree absolute attached.

Yes, exactly.

Where is it? - If it's not here in our records

then Alexander and Gladys Wilson are still married.

Alright, madam?

Next, please. - No, but I knew the parties involved

and they did divorce in 1940.

Not according to our records. - Well, then your records are wrong.

Next, please. - Please, sorry.

We could always look him up in The Times archive.

See what we can find out about him? - That's fine.

Thank you.

Put it back where you found it.

Come to bed.

They'll drag you back to work soon enough.

I'm not going back, Alison.

But they want me to stay undercover.

They'll find me a job back in London, something menial, as a cover.

But in reality, I'll be doing fieldwork, reporting to Coleman.

How long for?

Oh... so you'll be the disgraced officer forever?

I'll be serving my country.

Alison, I'm sorry.

You're not the one who has to deal with it.

Questions from my family. What shall I tell them, Alec?

People say such terrible things about you.

But you know who I am.

Good morning.

Thank you for coming.

I'll just fetch my mother. - Mm-hmm.

She's here, she's waiting downstairs.

I can't...

Sorry, um, I...

My mother's taken to her bed. She doesn't want to see you.

But I checked at the records office, there was nothing.

They got lost in the war.

My mother was nursing her sister in Scotland in September 1940.

Well, she must have travelled to London.

The day after she died? - It's there.

In black and white.

Do you think Dad did some intelligence work? Knew how to forge documents?

Don't be ridiculous.

It's the only explanation.

If he was legally married to you

why have we started to receive his war pension?

Well, a clerical error, if you just give me a bit more time...

a few more days, and I can find out... - No. No!

My mother's whole life has been destroyed.

Now if you carry on, you'll give me no choice but to make official enquiries.

What do you mean?

I'll go to the police, and ask them to investigate.

Was your marriage ever valid?

Or should you be charged with bigamy?

An offence that I believe attracts a custodial sentence.

I loved him so much.

We need his body for the funeral, that's all we want from you.

Your hand...

Here you are.

His body is at the undertakers in Ealing.

Yeah.

You can have your mass in Ealing as long as you bring his body to Southsea

for burial afterwards.

Thank you.

But the name and date of birth on the coffin must be the ones we knew him by.

I've already briefed the undertaker, so I...

My sons must never find out.

They adored him.

So did I.

Shall I come with you?

No, no, no it's fine. Just last minute details - choice of coffin and so on.

I want to.

Spend some time with your brother.

He'll be back at sea, soon.

See you later.

Mrs Wilson? How are we?

I'm afraid I've been a bit stupid.

Nothing we can't take care of. Please, sit down, don't upset yourself.

You're going to think I'm a fool.

But my son signed the death certificate and I'm afraid he got a few details wrong.

The date of birth and... you know, coming from such a grand family

there were so many middle names he...

Poor boy, he's just lost his father.

Can't believe I asked him to do it.

So you'd like to change the engraving on the coffin?

Yes, yes thank you.

There. That wasn't so bad, was it?

No, erm...

Also, I put a notice in The Times

and a cousin has reminded me that Alec wanted to be buried in Southsea

next to his sister.

That is absolutely fine, Mrs Wilson.

We're here to make this tragic time as straightforward as possible.

I'll just get the paperwork.

Now, look who I found in the waiting room.

I want to see him, Mum.

Certainly. If you'll just give us a minute to prepare the viewing room.

Well come on son, you go and sit by mother. Hold her hand, that's right.

She's got a lot on her mind.

Nigel, are you feeling alright?

Well, not long till the holidays now then you can rest.

Ah, before St Catherine's... if I get in.

I thought you'd applied to Oxford.

I have.

It's the name of the college there.

Dad and I chose it.

I'm sorry.

What for?

I haven't been there for you.

What do you mean?

It all came so naturally to him, being a dad

and I was just, forever cooking or cleaning or working at that blasted office.

It doesn't matter.

It does.

It's fine. One of you... do my zip please.

So what was so funny?

Nothing. Just being silly.

Come on. You would have told Dad.

Well, you know what they say about us naval types?

A girl in every port.

You treat women with respect.

The car's outside, boys.

I have decided I'd like to read from one of my father's books.

"Few people realise what our country owes to the gallant men of the silent service."

"To them, fame and glory seldom comes, riches never.

Often they die quiet, even shameful deaths.

Theirs is the ideal patriotism

that is prepared to sacrifice home...

family, everything

for the sake of the land that gave them birth."

Thank you, Dad, and rest in peace.

♪ I vow to thee my country, all earthly things above ♪

♪ Entire and whole and perfect ♪

♪ The service of my love ♪

♪ The love that asks no question ♪

♪ The love that stands the test... ♪

♪ And her ways are ways of gentleness ♪

♪ And all her paths are peace. ♪

Oh, Auntie Edie, I'm so sorry but we have to go.

The burial is in Southsea.

I beg your pardon?

Alec wanted to be buried by the sea.

Thank you so much for coming. I've just got to go.

My condolences, Mrs Wilson.

Alec was such a fine chap. Much loved at the hospital.

I beg your pardon?

Bert Ashby.

From the Central Middlesex.

Yes. Yes. Of course. Mr Ashby. Thank you so much for coming.

Mrs Wilson, the hearse is waiting. - Yes, I know. I know.

Father. Father, thank you.

I'll be in touch.

Right, good. OK.

I don't see what the hurry is.

The burial service is at four. - Couldn't we have done it tomorrow?

That chap from the hospital seemed to know Dad well.

Oh, he must have looked after him when he had his heart problems.

Now look, there's a cousin of your father's who's going to be there.

With her two sons. - The lady he didn't get on with?

Yes. Yes. Exactly. So don't feel you need to talk to her.

So why on earth is she coming?

I just told you, she's your father's cousin.

But still we shouldn't... - Gordon, please!

Sorry.

I'll be back to normal once the funeral is over.

Into your hands, Father of mercies, we commend our brother Alec

in the sure and certain hope that, together with all who have died in Christ

he will rise with him on the last day.

Merciful Lord, turn toward us and listen to our prayer:

"Open the gates of paradise to your servant

and help us who remain to comfort one another with assurances of faith

until we all meet in Christ and are with you and with our brother forever.

We ask this through Jesus Christ Our Lord."

- Amen. - Amen.

Alright, boys?

Wait in the car for me, will you?

- Alright? - Yeah.

Thank you.

I did it for Dad.

Whatever he's done, I loved him.

I always will.

He would have been proud of you.

- Better go. - I was wondering about the headstone, I...

No, no headstone.

What do we even engrave on it? Which name? Which date of birth?

An unmarked grave. - It's what my mother wants.

Can I ask you something else?

When he visited... did he...

did he stay the night?

No.

No, he didn't.

Mrs Wilson, can we stay in touch? Perhaps meet up some day?

They're my half-brothers.

I'm sorry.

We can't see each other again.

You made mistakes...

but you were a good father.

You were mine.

You were mine

I wanted to pay my respects.

Shahbaz Karim.

Alec was my best friend in India, before the war.

You must be Alec's daughter?

His wife. - Oh.

I'm sorry, I didn't recognise you.

My eyesight isn't what it used to be.

Also it's been so long...

Sorry, what are you talking about?

Dorothy?

Who's Dorothy?

It's my mistake.

I told you I was Alec's wife and you called me "Dorothy".

So, please, just tell me who she is.

Do you know the real reason Alec went undercover in 1942?

You should speak to Coleman.

Who's Dorothy?

Your husband was a good man.

Who's Dorothy?