Original subtitles

Linda, darling, it's Fanny.

I'm in London to meet Alfred, but not until luncheon.

Fanny, for God's sake!

I'm expecting an important call which may come at any moment!

Someone may be trying my number this very second!

All right, I'm on my way.

Hello, darling.

How do you imagine these got here?

All the way from Paris in the middle of all this.

The Southern Railway people just brought it

and I signed for it

as if things arrived from Paris every day.

Oh, Fanny, darling, what an extraordinary war.

What are you doing in London, darling?

I told you on the telephone, I've come to meet Alfred.

You telephoned? I don't remember.

How is Alfred?

Oh, he's rushing around,

buying lots of new equipment and seeing people.

He thinks he'll be off abroad again almost immediately.

What did he say about Dunkirk?

He said it was something out of The Boy's Own Paper.

He seems to have had a fascinating time.

Little Matt was here yesterday with Bob.

Oh, isn't it wonderful to have them back again?

If only one knew what had happened

to one's French buddies.

Oh, poor Linda.

No, don't pity me.

I've had several months of perfect and unalloyed happiness,

and very few people can say that even after long, long lives.

Just off for now, ma'am, if that's all right.

I'll be back this evening.

Thank you, Mrs. Hunt.

I can see you're very cozy here,

but still, wouldn't you be jollier and less lonely

if you were to go down to Alconleigh?

You know, I'm going there with the children

as soon as Alfred's off again.

I'd like to come, for a visit,

sometime when I know a little more what is happening.

Oh, wouldn't it be lovely

to have hours and hours and hours

in the Hons cupboard?

Such heaven to be here again.

Oh.

To be with you and Uncle Matthew.

And Louisa, I've hardly seen her in years.

You can take turn and turn about with the children,

very handy for both of you.

It's so nice for them all to be brought up together.

It's just like old times.

It's so sweet of you to have us all.

No, the more, the merrier.

I should like to fill the house.

It's better for the rations.

With Little Matt and Bob in the army,

Jassy in America and Victor off in Laurens,

Matthew and I would be

a very dreary old couple here all alone.

I was surprised they didn't try and stick some evacuees on you.

Oh, they did.

Then they decided the house was too cold for the lower classes.

So they sent us some enormous crates

from the Science Museum instead.

Matthew thinks there may be some sort of secret weapons

they're hiding here.

Stands to reason.

They're not going to bother shifting a load of old rubbish

down here at a time like this.

Essential implements of war, I'd say.

[Knocking] Sounds as if it were empty.

Don't you go tampering with it!

It's our duty to guard them until they're wanted, just that!

It's obvious why they sent them down here.

They knew that this place is, or soon will be,

the headquarters of the LDV.

Who's that spying?

- Oh! - Got you!

LDV?

Oh, Local Defense Volunteers, darling.

They're just forming down here.

Your uncle's in command.

He's as happy as a boy

with his first full-size cricket bat.

[Breathing heavily]

Only Josh, after all.

He wanted to bring me the news.

Our uniforms have just arrived.

Soon this country will be equipped

to guard this little lot down to the last man.

Then the last woman.

Darling! Good to see you!

Will you take that?

Will you take that, too, please?

It's an ill bomb that blows nobody any good,

and this one's blown you here. Oh!

Let me help with the golf clubs.

Oh, okay.

You're just at the right time.

I need a sublieutenant to command the new platoon

I'm forming for my home guard.

Matthew, I can't be a sublieutenant again.

I mean, I was a captain when I handed in my papers

a million years ago.

No vacancies for captains, I need an ensign.

Exercise will do you good.

Oh, Matthew, so relentless.

All that can wait until later. Time for lunch.

Oh, God, I'm starving. What is it... cottage pie?

Cottage pie?

Just twice-cooked meat. Sheer poison.

We all have to make sacrifices in wartime.

If I'm to be a platoon commander at my age,

I must have proper food.

You'll have what you're given and like it!

Stiffen up, you wreck!

Mr. Warbeck! To the cookhouse!

Left, right! Left, right! Left, right!

[Telephone ringing]

Hello?

WOMAN: Are you Flaxman 0529?

Yes! Yes!

WOMAN: I have a call for you.

FABRICE: Allo? Allo?

Fabrice! Fabrice!

Oui!

Oh, Fabrice, I've been waiting for you for such a long time!

C'est gentille! Can I come to your house straightaway?

Wait! Yes! You can come at once!

But don't go for a moment. Go on talking.

I want to hear the sound of your voice.

No, I have a car outside,

I should be with you in five minutes.

There is too much one cannot do

on the telephone, mon cher.

So lucky it's Sunday and Mrs. Hunt isn't here.

Mrs. Hunt?

My daily woman.

Whatever would she have thought?

About the same as the night porter

at the Hotel Montalembert.

Why did you come, Fabrice?

To join General De Gaulle?

No, I joined him long ago in Bordeaux.

My work is in France,

but we have ways of communicating when we want.

I must go and see him, of course.

He expects me at noon.

But actually...

I came on a private mission.

I came to tell you that I love you.

You never said that to me in Paris.

No.

You always seemed so practical.

I had said it so often and often,

I had been romantic with so many women,

that when I felt this to be different,

I couldn't bring up all those stale, old phrases again.

I couldn't utter them.

I never said I loved you.

I never called you "tu."

Indeed, you often called me "Madame."

All on purpose.

Because from the beginning,

I knew this was as real as the others were false.

It was like...

recognizing somebody.

Oh, dear, I can't explain.

Don't try. You needn't.

I know.

And then, when you were gone,

I felt I had to tell you.

It became an obsession with me to tell you.

All these last dreadful weeks

were made more dreadful,

because I was being prevented from telling you.

How ever did you get here?

On the circuit.

I have to leave again tomorrow morning very early.

I may not be back until the war is over.

But you will wait for me, Linda?

And nothing matters so much now that you know.

I shall never again

have to bear the horror of being away from you.

And you not knowing what a great, great love

I have for you.

Oh, Fabrice, I feel...

Well, I suppose religious people sometimes feel like this.

I have been thinking.

Soon London may become a dangerous place.

Oh, I know, this Sunday afternoon is peaceful,

but I do not think these people know what is coming.

And what is coming?

Soon there will be thunderbolts out of this blue sky of yours.

The worst kind of thunderbolt always falls from a clear sky.

Remember that.

I think that you should go to mummy inside the country.

Oh, no, it's not as if I've got children with me

like Fanny or Louisa.

I shall stay here.

Suppose you come to London again, suddenly.

It is not likely.

And if I did, I could find you in the country.

Not if it's like this visit. There will be no time.

I do not think I shall come again

until the war is done.

Fabrice?

Mm-hmm?

Do you think we shall ever live together again?

Of course we shall, for years and years and years.

Until I am 90.

I have a very faithful nature.

You weren't very faithful to Jacqueline.

Ha ha, you know about Jacqueline, you do?

My poor wife, she was so kind.

Kind, elegant and boring.

Oh, mon dieu! How boring she was.

Enfin, I was immensely faithful to her,

and it lasted five years.

It always does with me.

Either five days or five years.

But as I love you ten times more than the others,

that brings it to when I'm 90,

and by then I shall have got into the habit.

And how soon shall I see you again?

On fera la navette, as we say.

I shall be hawking my turnips roundabout.

And who knows?

It's possible, just possible,

that the turnip trade will bring me again to London.

Tu feras la navette.

I thought I've heard a car.

It is for me.

I must go now.

Goodbye, Linda.

Navette! Tu feras la navette!

What's this stuff for?

Putting into the water to do the washing.

What are you washing, mummy?

Your socks.

Trouble is, Basil, I can only use a very few flakes

because I have to leave enough for Auntie Louisa,

and this water's as hard as nails.

What does "hard as nails" mean?

You'll never guess who's turned up now!

Not in a thousand, thousand years.

Hitler.

No! Your mother.

Auntie Bolter.

She's just walked up the drive and walked in.

- Alone? - No, with a man.

Her current husband's a major or something.

He doesn't look like a major... he's got a musical instrument

and he's very dirty... come on, Fanny, leave those to soak!

So there we were, darlings, stuck on the Riviera,

with the Germans already in Bordeaux

and nobody giving a hoot what happened to us.

So then Mervin...

that's the filthy beast I was married to...

- Mother! - Fanny!

Hello, darling.

Ooh, this must be Basil, I suppose.

Hello, Basil, darling.

Now, let's have a look at you, Fanny.

Ooh! That's a nasty spot you've got on your nose.

Make her see to it, Emily. You brought her up.

Now, where was I?

On the Riviera with your filthy husband Mervin.

That's it, darling, thank you.

So then the foul brute decided to stay behind

and collaborate with the Huns.

He always was a bit Hunnish, you know.

So I managed to make a break for it over the mountains to Spain.

What the hell's going on, Davey!

You're supposed to be drilling your platoon!

The Bolter, Matthew.

Matthew, darling.

Bolter! Ohh!

Who's this sewer with the violin?

Now, if you brought that with you!

Matthew, be quiet!

The Bolter's telling us her thrilling adventures.

I'm sure she can explain everything.

Oh, yes, indeedy.

You see, when I got to Spain, they popped me

in this ghastly prison camp,

and if it hadn't been for my heavenly Juan here...

Ohh!

He doesn't speak a word of English, by the way.

Well, if it hadn't been for him, Matthew,

I would still be sitting there now.

But as it was, he helped me to escape.

We had to converse entirely in signs, darlings.

And he indicated to me that I should entice one of the guards.

It's really too shame-making.

Flaunting round the sentry box.

Then my lovely, brave Juan

hit him on the head while he was being...

[Clears throat]

Well, enticed?

And then we managed to get away to Barcelona,

with me pretending to be a tart and Juan my pimp.

Oh, and at last, we got the British consul to help

because guess what?

He was a second cousin of my last husband but two.

Then we sailed home,

taking 10 weeks, in a tub like Noah's Ark

and dossing down, when it was our turn,

in the steerage lavatories.

Well, Bolter, I'm delighted to see you.

I hope you'll stay as long as you like.

But, Bolter, but...

Matthew, think of all he did for her.

I am thinking.

We must let him stay.

Please, Matthew darling, just for one little week.

Oh, all right, then. Just for one little week.

Only for a few days!

And this is not, definitely not...

the thin end of the wedge.

Ha ha! As fine a seat as ever, milady.

Oh, Josh! You really mustn't call me "milady."

I haven't been for ages.

Yes, milady.

No, Josh, you really mustn't say that.

Oh, Fanny.

Help me to explain, Fanny.

The thing is, Josh, I have had four husbands

since Lord Logan was Frances' father.

I mean, Mrs. Wincham's father.

Four husbands.

Or only three, Fanny?

You know, I am never quite sure whether my marriage

to that disgusting major was valid.

There was something awfully fishy about those papers.

Oh! Well, in that case,

perhaps I'm still married to my lovely, lovely Hank.

Is he a game hunter?

Oh, yes, darling.

Of course, I can't still be married to him.

I shot him in the head by accident, silly me,

on a safari one day.

But I suppose I could still be his relict.

Now, that would mean I could call myself Mrs. Roll

rather than Mrs. Plugg, which is what I call myself today.

Mmm!

Which do you think sounds better, Josh?

Mrs. Roll or Mrs. Plugg?

Really not my place to advise you, milady.

This little piggy went to market,

this little piggy stayed at home,

this little piggy had roast beef,

this little piggy had none.

And this little piggy was a bold little piggy

and he went "Wee-wee-wee" all the way home.

And as for this little piggy...

[Child laughing]

There's no doubt she's a great hand with the children.

That's funny, as she only ever had me as her own

and I was looked after by a squadron of nannies.

For the few months she actually stayed with me

before the first bolt.

Well, mine all adore her.

And I propose positively to exploit the fact.

Of course, we must be a little careful, Fanny.

Juan, you know, he rushes into her room before tea

and lives with her... before tea!

It wouldn't do at all if any of the children caught them.

David and Basil are safe in bed, darlings,

sleeping like seraphs.

Juan gave them a little tune to send them off.

Ah! I want a word with you about that.

This "Gewan"...

What's to be done about him?

Well, Matthew darling,

Juan did save my life time and time again, you know.

I can't tear him up now and throw him away, can I, sweet?

Point taken, but I can't keep a lot of Dagos here.

But do keep him just a little longer, Matthew darling.

Please, just for a few more days.

And then I swear I will find someplace for him and me to go.

You can't think what a lousy time we had together.

I must stick to him now.

I simply must.

Well, another week, if you like.

Then after that, I'm afraid he must go.

Sadie, I'm going to do an unpardonable thing.

It is for the general good and your good, too,

but it is unpardonable.

David, what can be coming?

It's the food, Sadie, the food!

I know how difficult it is for you in wartime,

but all of us in turns are being poisoned.

I was sick for hours on end last night.

The night before, Emily had diarrhea.

Fanny still has that enormous spot on her nose!

And the fact that if Mrs. Beecher were a Borgia,

she couldn't be more successful.

I know she's an awful cook, though we're lucky to have her.

But what can one do, Davey?

The meat ration only lasts two days.

We have 14 meals a week.

What about game... there used to be such a lot here.

Matthew thinks that all ammunition, even cartridges,

must be kept for the Germans.

So he refuses to waste even one ball of shot

on hares and partridges.

But you're quite right, Davey.

The food is unwholesome.

I'll try and do something about it.

Come on, Davey, stop stuffing yourself like a capon!

Time for the night exercises, and remember...

full field service marching order!

Matthew!

He's worse than all the torturers

of the whole Spanish Inquisition!

Male crooner: # Gardenia perfume #

# lingering on the pillow #

# wild strawberries only 7 francs a kilo #

# and still my heart has wings #

# These foolish things #

# remind me of you... #

Davey, what are all those bottles?

Davey's vitamin pills.

I have to take all of these, Sadie,

because in spite of what I said,

the food is still so awful.

Unless I took these, I might peter out altogether.

And another thing, Bolter!

You've been at my florist's essence of geranium again!

Only a tiny droppy, Davey.

A tiny droppy doesn't stink out the whole bathroom.

You've been pouring it into the bath with the stopper out.

That's my quota for the whole of the month!

It really is heinous of you, Bolter!

I'll get you some more, darling, I swear.

I'm going to London next week to have my wiggy wash

and I'll bring you back a whole bottle, I promise, darling.

And I very much hope you'll take "Gewan" with you

and leave him there!

While the Bolter's in London, now is your time to talk to him.

Why me?

Because you're so clever, darling.

Look at him, poor fellow.

He hasn't even got the spirit to play his guitar.

We obviously can't turn him out to starve.

I mean, one does have human feelings.

Not towards Dagos.

We can give him a job.

But first we must find out what his profession was.

Now, you're so good at languages, Davey,

and you're so worldly and resourceful.

I'm sure if you have a look at the Spanish dictionary

in the library, you could manage to ask him

what he did before the war.

Do try, Davey.

Oh, yes, darling, do.

Oh, all right, I'll try.

But I can guess what the answer will be...

"G for gigolo."

Not "M" for matador or "H" for hidalgo?

Even more useless... what then?

Then "B" for be off and the Bolter

will have to support him.

[Davey clears throat]

In the library, you say, the Spanish dictionary?

West wall. Fifth shelf down, halfway along.

My dears, it's too fantastic! You'll never, never guess!

# #

Senora.

Clever Davey, to have found out

what my precious Juan is good at.

Only one thing, I thought, silly me.

A cardinal chef!

Mmm!

Spanish food.

So delicious.

So unconstipating.

So digestible!

So full of glorious garlic.

Succulent birds, beasts, crustaceans at every meal.

Vegetables simply running with extravagant sauces.

I only hope the food won't be too rich for you now, Davey.

I never mind the rich food...

It's the poor food that does one such an infinity of harm.

And then there's his talent for organizing.

Have you seen the storeroom that he's built up, Matthew?

I go and gaze at it in sheer wonderment

for hours on end.

[Whispering] Pickles and preserves

from morning 'til night.

Shoots fowl...

Huh?

With a catapult.

Makes the most inspired patties

from what we leave over.

Ahh!

These doughty hams.

Where does he get them from?

Heraldic shields of prawn!

Ah, noble Juan!

This place...

it's a veritable...

Aladdin's cave!

If I were the Bolter, by God, I'd marry the fellow!

So, everyone's happy and healthy again.

My spot that I had on my nose is completely vanished.

And now, even Uncle Matthew has taken Juan to his heart.

[Retching]

I'm afraid it happens all the time.

She's that poorly.

Can't you take her back to the country with you?

She simply wouldn't budge.

She's as obstinate as a donkey, madame!

But it ain't hardly right she should sleep here all alone

with the bombs and everything.

But she won't listen to sense.

I'd better let you have my telephone number,

where I live in the country, just in case.

Right you are, madame.

Are you all right, madame?

Yes, I'm fine, thank you.

Have you guessed?

I'm in the family way... that's what it is.

Darling, you're not supposed to have another.

Remember what the doctor said when Moira was born?

Doctors don't know anything! Of course, I can.

And I'm simply longing for it.

This one won't be in the least like Moira, you'll see.

I'm going to have another one, too.

How lovely! When?

- Round the beginning of May. - Me, too. Good!

And Louisa's due at much the same time.

Haven't we been busy! I do call that nice.

They can all be Hons together.

Linda, why don't you come back with me to Alconleigh?

There's no sense in stopping here in all this.

It can't be good for you or the baby.

I like it... It's my home and I like to be in it.

Besides, someone might turn up just for a few hours, you see,

and he knows where to find me here.

You'll be killed, then he won't know where to find you.

Darling, Fanny, don't be silly. Nobody gets killed in air raids.

There's a great deal of noise and mess,

but people don't really get killed much.

Don't darling, please, don't. Touch wood.

MATTHEW: No waving in the ranks!

Fanny! There's a Mrs. Hunt on the telephone from London.

Linda's house has been hit.

Is Linda...

They don't know. They're still digging.

Thank god for Uncle Matthew's Home Guard petrol.

Fanny! Louisa!

Fanny!

You see?

What did I tell you, Fanny,

about air raids not killing people?

My bed simply went two floors into the basement,

rather like a lift.

Nothing wrong. Mild shock.

She'll be all right in a jiff.

Then you can take her off in your car.

You do realize she was pregnant?

Yes. She still is. No damage there.

Pity. The child could kill her even though the Germans haven't.

At least there can't be

any more of this nonsense about staying in London.

So, now you know it all, down to the teeniest little thing.

You see, I wanted him to find me there,

in the house that was given to me for love.

Well, no one will find you there anymore.

He'll come on here when he comes.

He knows all about Alconleigh, and all of you.

I've told him the histoire.

That's what he calls it all... histoire.

I've told him, oh, so many times!

Meanwhile, how are you going to explain the baby?

I don't have to... or not yet.

Mummy and Fa have assumed, without being lied to,

just assumed that it's Christian's.

They think we've more or less

been together all this time, you see.

Or at any rate, whenever Christian could get any leave.

Fa thinks no end of Christian, now he's an officer.

And in his own regiment, at that.

The whirligig of time.

It does seem rather unfair.

Linda goes off and has this glorious time in Paris

and comes back covered in rich furs.

And what do we get for sticking all our lives

to the same dreary old husbands?

Three quarter-length shorn lamb.

Alfred isn't a dreary old husband.

Nor is John. But you know what I mean.

Yes, I know what you mean.

[Women murmuring]

Oh, now, Linda, that's lovely!

Is that one you got in Paris,

when you were doing your war work?

Oh, it's wonderful what one

can get there with no money if you're clever.

[Chuckling]

Yes, wonderful, isn't it, Linda, darling?

MATTHEW: Just been doing the pillboxes.

I reckon we should be able to stop them for two hours,

possibly three, before we're all killed.

Not bad for such a little place.

Cheer up, Missy. You won't know you're dead.

And better dead than being raped by the Hun.

Could be two points of view about that.

Mother, you must stop all this with Linda.

All what, darling?

You know... all this giggling and winking,

this "let's face it, we're just two fallen women" approach.

She simply can't bear it.

But, darling, she really is nothing but a high-class tart,

and that flat in Paris, all those clothes.

It was Sauveterre, wasn't it?

How did you know?

Everybody knew on the Riviera,

one always knew about Sauveterre somehow.

Oh, and jolly good for Linda, too, darling.

You mustn't think I grudge.

But, Mother, you must understand that she regards it all

with the most intense feelings of romance.

All those months she spent with Fabrice.

He was, he is, the great love of her life.

I still don't see why she has to be so high-hat about it.

Sadie and Matt don't know, I realize that,

but wild horses wouldn't make me tell her.

- I'm not that kind of girl. - I know.

But I still think that when we're all together,

Linda might be a teensy bit more jolly and less high-hat.

So I'm afraid, darling, that the Bolter's feelings

have been rather coarsened by time.

No good expecting sensitivity in that quarter.

Oh, well, I'll just have to steer clear of her, I suppose.

The reason I can't bear her way of carrying on

is just because I might have been her.

Just like her, I mean, a Bolter myself.

I almost thought I was until Fabrice.

At least she does realize that Fabrice has got to be kept

from Uncle Matthew and Aunt Sadie.

She won't let you down there.

I sometimes think I shall let myself down.

It's such a strain making up things

I'm supposed to have heard from Christian.

You know, how he hates his C.O. Or adores Cairo.

Of course, I never hear anything from him at all.

Don't they notice that you never get any letters?

No! I do this act of always being the first down

to grab mine off the mat.

You know, so eager for news, I can hardly wait.

But, of course, it isn't an act, it's quite true... I am eager.

I'm consumed to hear from Fabrice.

If only there could be just one line.

Do you ever think about your husbands?

Funnily enough, I do often think about Tony.

And I see that the thing going wrong was hardly his fault.

I don't think it would have gone right with anyone.

Unless I'd happened to meet Fabrice then.

Because in those days, I was so extremely nasty.

And Christian?

Oh, he was just an interlude.

He hardly counts in my life at all.

Because our marriage only lasted a very short time

and was quite overshadowed by what came after.

And what do you think is to come?

One day the telephone will ring,

as it did once before,

and he'll be there.

O Lord, we give thee hearty thanks

that Juan has catapulted yet another pheasant

and that the storeroom continues to be crammed with abundance.

Oh, yes!

- Yes, that's just the thing. - What's the thing?

This storeroom, "Aladdin's cave," as you call it.

When the invasion comes, there's a very important job to be done.

And I'm making you officer responsible, Davey.

Responsible for what?

Blowing up Aladdin's cave.

Why, Matthew?

Why?

When the Germans come and we're all dead,

that cupboard will keep them going for weeks.

War on! Make them gum up their lines of communication

by having to bring up their own food.

Matthew darling, some of us may still be alive.

Then you'll deserve to starve.

Or live off the scraps the Huns give you.

I would have let old Juan blow it up.

It's his storeroom after all.

But the fact is, although I rather like old Juan these days,

I don't altogether trust the fellow.

Once a foreigner, always a foreigner, in my opinion.

So, Davey, I'll show you how to do it after luncheon.

Senora...

Women: Oh!

[Sighs]

[Footsteps]

Do you mind?

I thought I'd pop in to work up a little circulation.

Brrr!

Really, it's too bad of Matthew to insist

on blowing up Aladdin when the Germans come.

Invasion or no invasion, I shall not be able to find it

in my soul to blow up Aladdin.

And Emily entirely agrees with me.

I think Fa's right.

It's all very well for you, Linda.

You'll get fed somehow... pregnant women always are.

But nobody will bother about me.

And I shall never be able to make the Germans understand

about my delicate stomach.

Davey, if you won't blow up Aladdin,

I shall go to Fa for lessons how to do it tomorrow.

[Sighs]

I shall just have to resign myself to a lingering death.

Not a very pleasant prospect, I must say.

Fa's plan is simply ridiculous.

And it's typical

of Linda's sheer fecklessness to support it.

She takes no thought for the future,

but only aspects of it.

I tried to jolt her, but she simply says,

"One day the telephone will ring,"

as if she were saying, "One day my prince will come."

Whatever will the baby wear, poor thing?

If ever a baby came naked into this world,

it will certainly be this one.

What is Christian going to say when he hears about it?

They are still married.

He'll have to bring a suit to legitimize it,

and then the scandal will be quite infinite.

I quite think Fa will turn her out into the snow,

as much as he loves her.

He's simply Victorian about all this kind of thing.

Oh, she ought to be beside herself with worry.

Instead of which, she's behaving

like the wife of a millionaire in Monte Carlo.

Nevertheless, as her time is very near,

I shall positively go to Oxford and buy her a layette myself.

It's rather sad to belong to a lost generation as we do.

I'm sure history will squeeze the two wars together

and they'll count as one.

People will forget we ever existed.

We might just as well have never lived at all.

'Tis unfair.

This is for you.

Oh, Louisa, Fanny, thank you!

How sweet of you.

It's all Louisa's doing.

I've no energy for Oxford or shopping now.

I'm due at the same time as you, remember?

So is Louisa.

Thank you, Louisa. You're a real Hon.

Well, it wasn't all that much bother.

After all, I've had more practice

at this kind of thing than you two.

But times are hard, and I'd like to be paid.

When you can, of course.

Tony's engagement ring.

You ought to get a bit for it. Done?

Done.

- Oh! - Fanny! Are you all right.

Fanny darling! Fanny!

Now, here's a telegram from Alfred in Alexandria,

and Merlin sends his love, his best love, he said,

and a million congratulations.

And you'll be delighted to hear that Louisa has had a boy.

"Angus" they're going to call him.

Sadie sends love.

She says you're to take it very easily

after the beastly time you've had,

and not to dream of coming back until you're quite well.

But who will manage the boys?

The Bolter and Emily are doing a spectacular job between them.

The Bolter's turned up absolutely trumps.

Her turn to come and see you tomorrow.

And Aunt Sadie? I do long to see her.

Sadie can't come just now, darling.

She has to stay at Alconleigh.

I suppose she's busy looking after Linda.

I know Louisa and I were pretty early,

but Linda must be due at absolutely any moment.

Linda is dead, Fanny.

She had a fine s...

son.

But she is dead.

The doctors were right.

It's funny how few things she had.

These lovely dresses she bought in Paris...

when she was on her war work.

And that sable coat and...

nothing.

Most of her stuff was destroyed when Cheyne Walk was bombed.

There must have been letters and things.

What happened to all those letters from Christian

she was always telling us about?

[Vehicle approaching]

Dispatch rider?

I shouldn't wonder if the balloon hasn't gone up at last.

Darling Matthew must be the last man in England

who still believes there may be an invasion.

Well, don't disillusion him, duck.

He needs something enjoyable to think about just now.

A Frog, of all things, from De Gaulle's HQ in London.

With a message for...

for Linda.

What the devil could all this be about?

I think you'd better let Aunt Sadie open it.

"Chere Madame, Je suis charge..."

No, in English, perhaps.

Uh, "Dear Madame, I'm instructed to inform you,

with the deepest regret, that Major General...

Major General the Duke of Sauveterre..."

The Duke of Sauveterre? Who's he?

"Has been killed while on active service."

Why this to Linda?

Listen to me, darlings.

I hope to God I can make you understand.

[Crowd murmuring]

Oh, no, no, children! Sandwiches first!

It's a lovely christening.

Two little boys.

Thank you.

[Sighs]

If only Linda's was Christian's as it should have been.

You must forgive her that.

I do. One always forgave her anything in the end.

- But I could just wish... - Wish what?

This Sauveterre fellow may have been a Frog,

but he was a soldier and a gentleman.

From all I've heard, he died like one, too.

Proper father for any woman's child.

So there's an end to that.

I heard all about it through Free French liaison.

Sauveterre was running the resistance

over a large area beneath the Pyrenees.

He was betrayed to the Gestapo,

captured and shot.

Who betrayed him?

I could make a goodish guess.

A successful leader with the name Duke de Sauveterre

would be gall and wormwood

to at least one political faction in the Resistance.

Well, whoever betrayed Fabrice Sauveterre

may have made a hero of him.

So they weren't quite as clever as they thought.

Sauveterre's class will need a few heroes

when this war is done.

I have decided, if Juan will come and cook for me

at Merlinford Bolter,

I will even put up with you in the house.

This war has finally destroyed whatever conscience I had left.

Treble the money.

Did you understand that one, darling?

His English has got much better, you know.

Yes, I have understood.

Milord, Juan serve who it please him to serve,

and it please him very much to serve the lady of Alconleigh,

who took him in when things were very low.

Oh!

Pity yours couldn't be christened with the other two.

We must wait until his father can get leave.

Where exactly is John now?

I don't know, I'm sure. All madly secret.

Like Linda's duke?

Not nearly as dangerous, thank God.

I once met Linda's duke. A long time ago.

He was a favorite of mummy's and she asked him to Hampton.

Fanny was there, too,

I remember, and simply adored him.

I think he was the most attractive man I ever met.

Not beautiful, not even handsome,

but somehow magical.

Come and look at the table.

Since both Linda and Fabrice are dead,

I have adopted the little Fabrice,

with the consent of Christian, the legal father.

He has blue eyes, the same shape as Linda's brown ones,

and is a most beautiful and enchanting child.

I love him quite as much as,

and perhaps more than, I do my own.

Penny for them, Fanny darling.

I was thinking about Linda.

Ah, yes, Linda.

Poor Linda.

Poor little girl.

Do you know, Fanny, perhaps it's for the best after all.

I mean, the lives of women like Linda and me

are not quite so much fun as one begins to get older.

I think she would have been happy with Fabrice.

He was the great love of her life, you know.

Oh, darling!

One always thinks that, every, every time!

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