Original subtitles

MAN: Cauliflowers! Cauliflowers! Lovely taties!

Here's your lovely taties!

WOMAN: Lovely ripe apples! Lovely apples! Lovely apples!

They're all yours for three farthings, the lot!

Here y'are, love, take them.

Lovely cauliflowers there for you. Lovely caulis.

Thank you. HE SNIFFS

Cheapest in London! Cheapest in London!

Lovely apples! They're all yours for three farthings, the lot.

Here y'are, love.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

MAN: Mr Wilson?

THEY PANT, KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

Isabel. Roger.

Roger. KNOCKING CONTINUES

Mr Wilson. DOGS BARKING

THEY GRUNT Yes.

Mr Wilson?

HE GROANS WITH PLEASURE

Bye, George, Bertie. Er, Roger?

I'll deal with it tomorrow. No, no, erm, Roger...

Good night, gentlemen. But, Roger, we must...

In the morning, Bertie.

Night, young Jim. Sir.

Sir.

Evening, Isabel.

Paul. Father.

And where are you two going? We're going to the village concert.

Such a pleasure to go with someone who'll appreciate it.

George would just snore.

DOOR OPENS

Beatrice!

Well, it seems I have my husband to myself.

Don't s'pose anyone's going to join me at the meeting this evening.

What's it for this time?

The castigation and reformation of fallen women. Bertie's idea.

Sounds unmissable (!)

I do wish it wasn't always left to me to support Bertie and his causes.

See you both at supper, then.

Cold, I'm afraid.

You're not interested in fallen women, then, Roger?

The carriage is just coming round, madam.

Good evening, Miss Collard. Oh, my God!

Mr Dangerfield... Robert...

Calm yourself, Charlotte. I'm not a demon. Or even a ghost.

But I thought... Everyone thought... I mean, you disappeared so suddenly.

Then no word for months, for years!

Did you think I was dead? I was - without you.

Bring me back to life, Charlotte.

I did not forget my promise. I've come back for you.

No, Robert!

I have frightened you!

I'm so sorry.

I've been too... presumptuous.

Do not bother with me, dear lady.

I could never deserve your hand.

WOMAN: 'Oh, I met with my true love.'

Lover, make my bed soon, for I'm weary wi' hunting.

And fain would lie down.

Oh! I fear ye are poisoned, Lord Randall, my son!

I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!

Oh, yes, I am poisoned.

MAN: And so, who can imagine

the wretchedness and degradation of these unfortunates,

selling their bodies, the holy vessels of the Lord,

at the disgusting whims of lechers and fornicators?

Who can imagine the revoltingness of the acts they perform?

The way our sisters descend in a spiral of squalor

into eternal damnation, unless...

..oh, my friends, we stoop...

to lift them to the arms...

..of the Lord.

Not the best delivery I've heard - all performance and no real passion.

Oh, I liked it a lot. I thought Lord Randall particularly fine.

I preferred the more melancholy pieces.

I found it very exciting. Inspiring.

You are very young, Paul. So young.

And so impressionable.

Not so young. I'll soon be old enough to do what I want.

You can have no idea what you want. I certainly didn't at your age.

Life can be full of disappointments and... false hopes.

They can poison you, as Lord Randall was poisoned.

MAN: Whoa! Steady. Steady now.

WHISPERS: I miss you! No! Not here! Never here!

DOOR OPENS

And how was the concert, Isabel?

Mostly a recital of romantic poetry. Paul liked that best.

How nice for you both.

And so, give generously to bring to our sisters

the one shining, heavenly spirit of the Lord.

I can manage perfectly well!

Follow me. Yes, Mother.

Thank you so much for coming.

Thank you so much for coming.

Such a joy. Bertie, I must talk to you.

Charlotte, are you quite well?

Robert Dangerfield has returned from India.

Robert Dangerfield?! This time he's back for good.

Or for bad. I can hardly feel

his return will occasion much rejoicing in the family.

Charlotte, stop your gossiping and hurry up!

Especially in you.

I've arranged to meet him in the park tomorrow.

Charlotte! Will you escort me there, Bertie?

You know the... Charlotte, will you hurry up?!

You should have joined us, Beatrice. You would've enjoyed it.

Would I? Evening, George.

ISABEL SIGHS

GEORGE SNIFFS

Jenkins, how long has this bottle been open?

I see. Well... Well, open a fresh one, would you?

It's a good job somebody in this house knows about wine.

Even if he does attend to it before his wife.

Oh, forgive me! My dear wife, Isabel!

My clever and promising nephew-by-marriage, Paul.

My esteemed brother-in-law, Roger.

And my dear sister, Beatrice.

There. Is everyone satisfied?

Right, Jenkins, let's try the wine.

HE SNIFFS

Better. Just.

Though not quite as good as I've been having elsewhere.

Though I dare say less expensive. Oh, come, come!

Isn't it enough by way of economy

that we all have to huddle together in one house?

Surely you wouldn't begrudge me an occasional evening out?

You should have accompanied Isabel to the recital.

Quite right. Though, sadly, I have no time for poetry.

I'm sure that Paul was a more suitable companion.

Every time. Ooh!

He's become quite a ladies' man.

Has he?

Though I'm afraid that winning ways and a knowledge of poetry

will not put bread into young Paul's mouth.

He'll have time to decide on a career while he's at Oxford.

I very much hope that he will eventually come into the firm.

Then he won't need to learn airs and graces at Oxford, will he?

They failed to teach you any.

I'm not coming into the firm.

I'm gonna pursue a career in the arts, writing poetry.

Blank verse, sonnets, epitaphs...

Well said. Paul, er...

you'll need to think about it very carefully.

We'll discuss it together, but not just now, eh?

I wonder if Paul's stepmother will be invited into the discussion!

In any case, she can tell you here and now

that Paul will be needed in the firm, so into the firm he will go.

Mother, if nobody else, will settle that.

Charlotte! Yes, Mama.

I thought I'd drunk more.

I think I'll have a brandy instead.

I feel the need for something a little stronger.

You've made it quite clear that I'm not to interfere about Paul.

But you can't let him imagine

that he has the freedom to choose his own future. None of us do.

Don't remind me, Beatrice.

I'm as sick of living in this prison as you are.

Roger, I'm sorry. I'm beginning to sound like Mother.

HE CHUCKLES

There's no danger of that, my love.

What's happening to us, Roger?

We were happy together once.

Now this is more like sharing a grave than a marriage bed.

Stop it, Beatrice.

You're too morbid. We both know this marriage

is alive only for the world outside. In this room, it's dead.

It doesn't have to be.

ISABEL: 'And now, my darling Roger, I must go to bed - alone, alas.'

'There will be no touch on my thigh at dead of night

'to herald the conjuring of love's mysteries.'

Oh, God!

HE CHUCKLES

My dear Mr Browning, I do think your poetry so exquisite,

so full of life and passion,

and people doing it in the bottom of gondolas.

And on the roof of St Mark's!

I do wish my husband, Georgie-porgie,

would write poetry...

instead of making all that dreary money for me to spend.

I wish my husband would get out of this room.

You're as drunk and disgusting as ever.

Look. Just look at what you've done to me, my darling.

Rubbish! You were like this on our wedding night.

Your mother practically pushed you through the door.

Then... and every night,

my darling Isabel.

As if I give a damn. I need no urging.

Heel, George! Woof! Into your kennel!

Hello, Vandervent! It's been a long time.

Not long enough.

Sir? Sir? Mr Dangerfield, sir?

Not now, Thompkins.

Excuse me, Mr Dangerfield, sir,

the club manager wishes to speak with you, sir.

A little matter of a, er, excuse me, sir -

a forgotten account to be settled.

All in good time, Thompkins. All in good time.

You're late. Come on!

I've just come from my club.

I met a man I hoped I'd never have to set eyes on again.

What man?

The man who disgraced my family.

My sister was a young, silly girl.

He seduced her and abandoned her...

along with half the female population of Blackheath,

including Charlotte.

And then he fled to India.

I was young then. I should have killed him.

I want independence. If I marry, I will achieve it.

I shall tell Mother straight out. I want a share in the firm.

Just like Beatrice did when she married Roger.

Yes, but that's because the firm's run by Roger

and it always will be. You can't buy shares in that! It's preposterous.

Besides, what on earth leads you to believe

you can suddenly trust Dangerfield after all this time?

Gentlemen who return from India are frequently rotten with whisky.

Or worse!

Mr Dangerfield, I must know exactly what your intentions are.

Charlotte, I have known many women...

but none with whom I have longed, longed with such devotion...

to be united in the sacrament of marriage.

We have a great future, Charlotte, but first, we must win it.

And to do that, we must be very close allies.

ROGER: 'Oh, God.'

"The marble of..." THEY GRUNT

"..Preopuss' joy?"

SHE LAUGHS "Preopuss?"

Priapus. SHE LAUGHS

"..as it scatters the rain of life itself."

I had to break off there because George came in.

There's no need to break off now, is there?

SHE SIGHS WITH PLEASURE, THEY BREATHE HEAVILY

Isabel...

You were writing that as George came in?

He never saw it.

No thanks to you, he didn't!

Roger? What is it?

You're too careless, Isabel. Far too careless.

Do you realise how dangerous this game is?

It's not a game for me.

This has got to stop.

The idea of George looking over your shoulder...

..and reading!

For God's sake, we're all living in the same house!

Where are you going?

You're so demanding, Isabel!

So... desperate!

Desperate?! What am I doing?

What on earth do you mean?

We love each other.

MAN: Mr Wilson?

Ah, Mr Wilson...

Mr Wilson! Another letter for you, sir.

THUNDER

Mother?

Mother?

I don't wish to be disturbed.

THUNDER

MAN: Get your pots here.

Nice copper pots here.

Lovely pan, madam. Look at that one.

HUMS

This is intolerable. Are you out of your mind?

Never come here again like this!

Oh!

CLATTERING

What do you make of that? Make of what?

The box, Bertie, the box.

It's part of the new range.

Well... open it.

PUPPET SQUEAKS

SQUEAKILY: That's the way to do it!

Life's full of little surprises, Bertie.

THUNDER, BELL ON DOOR TINKLES

Sign this, please, ma'am.

Enough poison to do in a regiment of horse,

let alone a lawn full of moles.

Mind you, the thing about them moles is you can't just kill one -

you gotta kill 'em all.

Now, Roger, the firm.

One or two changes are in order.

Need we talk about the firm just now, Mother-in-law?

Yes.

I hear there have been unsuitable visitors.

Yes? During business hours.

Unsolicited, I assure you.

I hope the hors d'oeuvres are fresh. Of course, Mama.

Steady on, Paul. What's the occasion?

I'm celebrating. I've decided to go to Oxford.

Bravo, Paul. Freedom at last!

To the city of dreaming spires, lost causes, and dead languages.

Of no damn use whatsoever. Mother, d'you know about this?

I fear I care rather less than you, Uncle George,

about what Stepgran thinks.

I don't believe Oxford to be the best idea.

I'm sorry, Stepgran,

but I'm tired of being told what is really best for me by other people.

Always the policy in this family. Paul... we'll discuss this alone.

You know what I want, Father.

Yes. And I don't want to talk about it now.

If Paul really wants to go to Oxford and...

The family will extend the same hearty welcome to him

as it did to his father,

who has managed the firm well for a long time.

You see what you have to live up to, Paul?

Never forget, the Collards are people of consequence in Blackheath.

Let's have no more of this. And leave my son alone.

God, I feel sick!

What's the matter?

What did Mother mean by unsuitable visitors? Women?

One woman. Came to enquire about her pension.

Nothing to titillate and scandalise the dinner table gossip!

I thought I was marrying you, but no.

I married your whole bloody family!

HE GROANS

Look at you! You're exhausted.

You're always working, you're half drunk.

It's no wonder you feel ill!

Father?

Father!

Roger, Roger, what is it?

It's nothing... Argh!

It may be indigestion, caused by the nervous strain of

constant responsibility, worry, and overwork.

Or a chill.

In either event, the worst should be over by now.

Ah, and no more whisky until I say so.

Beatrice...

A couple of days' rest,

very soon, we shall be as right as the Bank of England.

Oh, there's a right brouhaha going on up there,

and they're all even nastier than ever.

Charlie! SHE GIGGLES

What's this?

SHE GASPS Oh, it's one of those letters

of Mrs Isabel. Charlie, give it me.

Why's she sending it there?

I dunno. She writes hundreds of them, though.

Two, three a day sometimes.

And I have to post 'em all, so give it me! Charlie!

Not this one. Charlie Jenkins! Please, please!

Look, there's going to be hell to pay if I don't post it.

And there'll be hell to pay if you don't get about your duties. Go on.

Will you post it for me?

Give him another day, and you'll see a steady improvement, I'm sure.

Well, I must be gone. I've been here twice today already.

Now, the draught as prescribed.

A little beef tea as well as the arrowroot.

I'll call again tomorrow.

Jenkins, I'll take that in for you.

No need, madam. Mrs Collard said no visitors.

She won't mind. But Mrs Vandervent will.

That's enough, Jenkins. Give me the tray.

I'll cheer him up.

QUIETLY: I'm sure you will!

Roger, my darling!

I've been so worried.

Isabel.

I know I was foolish about the letters.

But it seemed such a small risk to take for such pleasure.

Do you forgive me?

My darling, you must understand it's impossible for us to continue.

But why? You love me.

It's not a question of love, Isabel, it's just that...

Someone else? No!

Who were you meeting at the office?

In the office, I see Bertie and George. Your husband, remember?

You still love Beatrice, don't you?

Lower your voice, Isabel!

I don't have the strength to meet for these hellish frenzies.

The thing must end.

But I love you! Do you understand that? I love you!

KNOCK ON DOOR

Two days in bed for a bout of indigestion?

What's that you're drinking?

Arrowroot mixture, Mother-in-law.

It tastes disgusting, but it seems to ease my throat,

which is just as well.

I have something to say.

About the business.

In that case, we can do without these two.

Mother, I will not be locked out of my own bedroom!

Roger is my husband.

The guv'nor is rather concerned, Mr Dangerfield,

about all those unlucky bets of yours at Goodwood.

The guv'nor is sympathetic

to gentlemen who have a run of bad luck,

and he don't mind waiting for a week or two,

but not for more than a month, Mr Dangerfield!

More than a month is very bad, you see?

Yes, I do see.

Tell the guv'nor I'm playing a game of my own for very high stakes.

When I bring it off,

the guv'nor will be very glad that he's been so patient.

You look... better.

I feel worse.

Paul...

..we must talk.

Not now, Father. Not until you're well.

First, a few months abroad, perhaps,

and then... you must join the firm.

I can't fight the family on my own.

Have a lot of fun abroad.

Did you have fun when you were a young man?

And even after I came home.

One has to be discreet... at home. There are... places.

But it must never interfere with work, so...

..when you come home, Paul, it must be the firm.

Father, I don't think... Promise me!

HE RETCHES

Stepmother! Jenkins!

Madam! Mrs Vandervent! Please, madam!

Hilda, quickly!

I don't wish to intrude, but Jenkins did say that lunch...

I came immediately, I left a message with Dr Porter.

Who are you? Dr Hassall.

What's he eaten?

He's had beef tea and some arrowroot.

Dr Porter's instructions.

Get some hot-water bottles and a warm compress.

Shouldn't we wait for Dr Porter?

There's no time. His condition is critical.

Get some hot-water bottles and a warm compress.

I'm sorry, young man!

You heard what I said!

Dr Porter! Thank goodness! Thank God!

Do something!

Here is some sleeping powder...

RETCHES

The man is dying! He needs no powder!

His body needs purging of the poison!

Use your eyes, man! He's vomiting!

God damn your impertinence! He's my patient!

Yours to cure and not to kill! You are my partner and my junior...

Stop arguing and help him! Hold him down!

This is monstrous! I've been bitten!

Mr Vandervent, you've bitten me!

Father!

Your father is dead.

None of you remembered to send for Mother.

She will be furious at missing it all.

PAUL SOBS

Well, after all this, I would have preferred something hot.

And what about the wine, Jenkins?

No wine, Jenkins.

Cousin George, is this quite the time to be thinking of your stomach?

It seems someone should have been thinking

a great deal more about the state of poor Roger's stomach!

That's what Dr Hassall thought.

Hassall? What do you mean?

They disagreed. Fought, practically.

That old fool Porter didn't see what was killing Father.

Take control of yourself.

This is no place for such a display of emotion.

Perfect, the pair of you.

Charlotte, Bertie, that will be all.

No need to examine me, Doctor.

My only complaint is anno domini,

and that will do its work in its own time.

However, set my mind at rest.

Roger's death was due to... to what?

Acute indigestion, which was itself caused by worry and overwork,

and which later led, let us say, to a gastric misadventure.

I see.

I only regret that poor Roger

was attended so late in his illness

by so inexperienced a practitioner as Dr Hassall.

However, I may, I trust,

now make arrangements for the funeral forthwith?

Almost certainly.

Though Roger's very swift relapse,

after I thought he was well on the way to recovery...

Surely such fluctuations are not uncommon,

No, madam. Nevertheless, an inquest would confirm the cause of death

to the professional satisfaction of Dr Hassall.

I have no intention of delaying my son-in-law's funeral

to satisfy the curiosity of your junior partner!

I didn't mean... I'm sure you didn't.

I don't see that an inquest would achieve anything.

On the contrary,

I think it would incite the unjustified curiosity

of people who thrive on gossip.

I implore you, as an old friend, not to expose us to this.

CHURCH BELLS

Now that Roger has finally... gone,

his effects must be seen to.

Hardly my affair, Aunt Harriet. Beatrice, I'm sure...

I mean, Bertie, his effects at the office.

That's George's business now.

Make it your business, Bertie, and mine, if necessary.

Wonder where he is now. Where who is now?

Father!

I see. Well, you ought to ask Bertie.

He's supposed to be the expert on these matters.

We're all, are we not, praying for the peaceful repose of his soul.

Absolutely.

No, you're not. All you're concerned about is how much money he left

and who's going to take his place.

I'll walk home, Jenkins.

Right. Bertie...

SOBBING

Shush, shush. There, there, my love.

You need not be quite so sad

for the loss of a brother-in-law, when you still have a husband.

Don't touch me! What do you think you're doing?

It's called comforting.

Do you remember, Isabel? Do you remember our marriage vows?

Now, I swore to love and comfort you,

no matter how annoying you were.

And you, my love,...

..swore to obey your husband.

# Lula-lula-lula-lula bye-bye

# Does your mama want you To sleep? #

So, Paul, you will join the firm?

You would surely wish to follow in your father's footsteps.

To an early grave?

That is in the hand of God.

While all else is clearly in yours.

SHE CHUCKLES

How much will the firm pay me?

Since you will continue to live at home,

you will receive the pocket money suitable to one of your age.

You're certainly not trying to disguise

the unattractive nature of your offer.

It was father's last wish that I should join the firm.

And for that reason, you will comply?

I will comply. Sign this.

With my blood, Stepgran? SHE CHUCKLES

Ink will serve well enough, young Paul.

What on earth are you up to, Bertie?

George! I... I'm so glad you're here.

I'm just trying to work out how Roger's new toy balloon works.

He seemed to think it was so simple.

Try again, Bertie. Roger spent a lot of time trying to perfect this.

We owe it to his memory to make it work.

I can't seem to get the knack somehow.

HISSING Ah!

That's it. What a shame Roger isn't here to see this work.

He would have loved this.

Oh, isn't it beautiful? It's rather pretty, isn't it?

Keep going, Bertie. All right. Bit more, bit more...

Well done! Oh, I say!

Oh! Oh!

Sorry, Bertie.

Not a very responsible action, is it, from the heir to the throne.

I don't want the throne. Too much hard work.

Harriet is bound to have you installed,

whether you want it or not. Would you want it?

It's not a question of wanting. More deserving.

Oh! Poor Bertie!

You'll get your reward in heaven.

God looks after you, Mother looks after me.

It all rests with Mother.

I'm off to the club.

Yes, that's all right, George. I'll finish up here.

Oh!

What has this object to do with me?

I found this in the bottom drawer of Roger's desk.

So you thought you'd curry favour and draw attention to yourself

by bringing it to me, like a dog with a dead rat.

Very well, leave it. But you asked me...

Leave it.

Why are you wearing colours so soon after the funeral?!

To cheer myself up.

You will amend your style of dress at once.

Meanwhile, I have another

and rather different sartorial inquiry to make of you.

I presume this object is not part of your apparatus?

Don't be absurd! It's grotesque!

It was found in Roger's office.

What would Roger have been doing with such a thing?

A very pertinent question.

Are you implying, Mama, that my husband was conducting a liaison?

I am implying nothing.

I merely wish to establish that this garment does not belong to you.

That eliminates one explanation of its provenance.

And leaves me free to concentrate on others.

You well? Despite the present sadness?

I shall not pine for Roger.

Good brave Charlotte, as you'll need to be.

We can't afford further delay in approaching your mama.

I do not wish to obtrude upon her grief.

I fancy she'll be bearing up quite well.

And yet, if I think carefully,

this may be our best chance.

Yes! Here is opportunity.

And we must catch it on the wing!

GASPS Ouch!

GLASS SMASHES No!

Mama?

You will attend very closely to what I have to say.

Here, have this.

Thank you.

Paul, I really need to get away from here. Why don't we take a holiday?

It's too soon.

Well, I can't mourn forever.

Why not?

"Within a little month," as Hamlet said.

Don't you find it odd, Stepmother, how Father died?

I mean, he's never been ill in his life.

Stop playing at Hamlet, Paul.

Dr Porter explained it all at the time.

Dr Hassall disagreed with him.

Dr Hassall was a very opinionated young man!

They nearly came to blows. Stop it!

It's all settled now.

DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

HILDA GASPS You're late, Hilda.

You're due back by nine.

Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.

I just want to ask you a few questions.

Oh. You scared me half to death, Master Paul.

The day my father died,

you and Isabel...

Mrs Collard were alone with him for a time

while my stepmother was seeing off Dr Porter.

Yes, Master Paul.

During that time, did my father have anything to eat or drink

other than the arrowroot and beef tea prescribed by Dr Porter?

SHE SOBS

I'm sorry, sir. I never meant to do anything wrong, honest!

I'm sure you didn't, Hilda. Just tell me what happened.

Well, Mrs Collard had to leave the room for something.

Well, the master, he says how he could do with a good, strong whisky,

and he tells me where I can find it.

Ah, that's better!

I don't want to hurry you, sir,

but Mrs Vandervent or Mrs Collard might be back at any moment, and...

Well, they might be cross with us. Quite right, Hilda.

I'll just put the bottle back.

Oops.

No, we don't want to leave that there.

That'd give the game away, wouldn't it, sir?

HE CHUCKLES Yeah.

No-one knew except just the two of us, Master Paul.

So, how was it nobody smelled the whisky

on my father's breath later on?

Well, he drank some arrowroot, sir.

He said that that would take away the smell.

And nobody noticed any trace of the glass or bottle?

Well, no. No-one had a chance to notice nothing, sir.

I mean, just after a few minutes,

Mrs Isabel, she comes back in from...

from whatever it is that she's been doing,

and then Mr Vandervent,

he starts all that groaning and frothing and...

Well, then it's all that coming and going

and it's a proper pig's breakfast.

All right, Hilda, thank you. You've been a great help.

Anyway, sir? I mean, what difference

can a glass of whisky have made to the master?

I mean, he's always drunk whisky.

Well, he has ever since I've been up here.

From what Roger said to me on his deathbed,

and indeed on several previous occasions,

it is evident he had a high opinion of neither George nor Bertie.

I have therefore decided that two things should be done immediately.

On what ground did Roger complain of me, Mama?

And of me? Mediocrity, in both your cases.

And also, in yours, George,

what can best be called... indiscretion.

Do not interrupt me again. Any of you.

I thought this was to be a discussion.

The first step to be taken.

Young Paul Vandervent is intelligent and determined.

He will make an admirable member of the firm,

when he is suitably trained.

Paul is certainly determined - determined never to enter the firm.

He's said so to me often.

He has not said so to me. I understand Paul, you see.

I understand all of you, for that matter.

Never forget, there is not much that does not come to my ears

sooner or later.

And the second step you propose?

Ring the bell.

BELL TINKLES

SNIFFS

This is Mr Robert Dangerfield.

Most of you know him -

or know of him.

He has recently returned from India,

where he has had considerable experience in the tea trade.

He will be happy to join Collard and Vandervent.

The tea trade is not quite the toy trade, Mama.

One trade is much like another. Buying and selling.

What position did you have in mind for Mr Dangerfield?

A general position - as managing supervisor.

And if he proves inadequate to the task?

Our arrangement will last, in the first instance, for six months,

after which, if he gives satisfaction,

it becomes a matter of course.

Since he has asked, and received, my permission to marry Charlotte...

..his connection with the family

amply justifies his connection with its business.

Ah, Jenkins.

Did you remove a whisky bottle from my father's bedroom?

I don't believe so, Master Paul.

From the cupboard?

Certainly not.

Drive on. Yes, ma'am.

Why do you come here every day?

I don't come for long.

Paul, when we put the stone up after the grave has settled,

you'll have to help your stepmother with the epitaph.

You're the poet in the family.

What words should they carve?

How about "Roger Vandervent, a man of duty"?

He gave his whole life to that firm.

I wonder if he thinks it was worth it now.

Hush, Paul, your father never complained.

He couldn't see what was going on right under his nose.

Darling Paul, what do you mean?

Isabel, the day my father died, he had a whisky.

Now, I know there's nothing odd about that,

except that it was against Dr Porter's orders...

..but the bottle from which the whisky was poured has gone.

Now, this bottle could therefore

have something in it other than whisky.

But someone has removed it, so no-one will ever know what.

What are you suggesting?

That he was poisoned.

Poisoned?

Listen to me, Paul.

Your father died an untimely death,

but it was natural. You must accept that.

Now, let him rest in peace.

He won't rest in peace until we find out what happened.

WE will do nothing of the sort!

This is not a matter to turn into some childish, fanciful game!

It's not a game for me, Isabel.

You miss him too, Isabel, I know you do.

I know that's why you come here. You feel the same way I do.

You can't believe he's dead. He wasn't ready to die.

He shouldn't have died. Isabel!

You're my only friend.

Please, help me.

This is madness.

Do you really believe your father was murdered?

Yes.

Don't you want to know the truth?

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