All language subtitles for LOVE_IN_A_COLD_CLIMATE_8_engx

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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