Original subtitles

Tell me it isn't true, Daddy!

It had to be done. It's in the past.

It's over. You understand that?

Yes?

I think everyone's here now.

I've put Mrs. Harding in the garden room. Is that all right?

Anywhere that's convenient.

I shall want to take her mind in private later.

I rather thought you might. Shall we go down?

- Who is she? What's she doing here? - Her name is Sarah Harding.

I imagine she's just here to help, as we all are.

Bringing her brains to the aid of the party.

Has she got anything on under that dress?

Oh, for God's sake. I have no idea!

- You're here to talk about education. - Introduce me.

She's here to work.

Who for? You, I suppose, you lucky sod.

- Our leader, actually. - Oh.

- I'll let him know you're interested. - Oh, Lord.

Mrs. Harding! I didn't expect to see you here.

It's quite a heavyweight gathering. Half the Cabinet, and their wives.

- Some of them are enormous, yes. - Look at them all.

Press barons, spin doctors, economists, professors.

I got 10 minutes' notice!

What's it all about?

He'll tell you, if he thinks you need to know.

- You don't know, either. - Excuse me.

- I've got everyone you asked for, FU. - Good. All our people.

- What's it about? - All in good time, Tim.

Thank you all forcoming here this evening,

some at very short notice.

You will all by now have read or seen

His Majesty's speech to the Charities Commission.

which was correctly interpreted as a direct criticism

of this government and its policies.

I need hardly tell you how deeply this has wounded me personally,

to such an extent that I thought very seriously

about tendering my resignation.

But I decided that to do so would be wrong.

We are His Majesty's government, but we are more than that.

We are the elected government of the British people

and our deepest responsibility is to them.

I now believe that my only honourable course

in the face of this opposition

is to call a general election.

Go again to the people and say,

''Here we stand. This is what we have done.

''And this is where we are going."

"Will you continue to give us your trust?''

Thank you. I feel greatly encouraged.

I will be taking soundings throughout this evening,

beginning with the Inner Cabinet.

And I would like to emphasise that everything you've heard

and everything you hear at Chequers this weekend

is to be regarded as absolutely confidential.

Thank you all very much.

It'll leak. It's probably leaking already.

Half the people here are on a retainer from one ghastly rag or another.

That fool Gropeham, for instance. It's the only reason he was asked.

These days, a nice, controlled leak is the best way to announce anything.

Did you enjoy my little speech? My deep personal wound was a good touch.

I am extremely angry with His Majesty and I intend to do him harm.

I feel exhilarated.

Prospect of a fight, of course,

with the odds unfairly weighted in my favour.

Next to a small war,

there's nothing quite like a general election

to stiffen the sinews and summon up the blood.

Stamper wants to know the batting order.

I'm sure he does.

All right, he can be first. He'll sulk if he isn't.

Stamper, Stoker... Heatherington, Chalcott.

No one else to pad up at present.

May I make a suggestion, Francis?

- Of course. - It's about Stamper.

- Make him party chairman? - He'll want more later.

Don't you feel his thuggish skills are rather wasted in high office?

- Frightening people is Stamper's forte. - Hardly the point.

He'll want more and he'll think he deserves more.

He'll take what he's given. Stamper is loyal and he knows his place.

I think he aspires to yours one day.

I think he sees himself as your successor.

Yes, perhaps he does.

It's strange. I can't imagine anyone taking my place.

Nobody could.

Party chairman?

- I was thinking Carling. - A loose cannon. There's no comparison.

Only you can deliver me a landslide.

Thank you, FU. It's good to have one's qualities appreciated.

I shall be honoured and delighted to serve as party chairman.

What is it, Tim? You know you're the right man.

I give you my word of honour. It shan't go unrewarded.

Do this right and you can have anything you want

that's in my power to give you.

Tell me what you want, Tim.

Whatever you think is right for me, FU.

And don't worry, I'll sort this one out for you.

And we'll do it right. We'll kick the living shit out of them.

Thank you, Tim.

There have been rumours of a rift between Downing Street and the Palace,

following a speech by the King which appeared to be

sharply critical of government policies.

An opinion poll for the ''Times'', to be published in tomorrow's edition,

indicates a broad range of support...

Sir?

Was it you who leaked my speech

and Urquhart's censored version to the press?

Yes, Sir.

After I expressly told you I couldn't authorise it?

Yes.

Well, I thought you should know...

that I won't take any disciplinary action.

The country had a right to know how Urquhart was trying to muzzle me,

and I am very grateful, but don't make a habit of it.

I don't intend to, Sir.

On the other hand, don't be afraid to take the initiative

when you...if you were to...

should you sense very strongly that that was what was needed, as it were.

I'm not sure exactly what you mean, Sir.

Um...

I thought we might follow up with something wide-ranging.

Television?

- I think you should. - Well, let's take some soundings.

- Is David still here? - He went home early. A touch of flu.

Right, right. Thank you, Chloe.

I feel completely irresponsible.

I ought to go home for some clean shirts.

Wear mine.

I keep remembering things I should be doing.

And I don't bloody well care.

That suits you, you know.

- We're going again next week. Come. - Where?

Japan. You'll love it. I'm amazed you've never been.

Look, five-day stopover. I can get you a cheapie ticket, upgrade you to first.

Champagne all the way. I'll show you Japan.

Oh, I'd love to.

But... I think I've had as much sudden life change

as I can cope with for the moment.

- You're not upset? - No. Just a thought.

- There'll be plenty of other chances. - Good.

I couldn't at the moment, anyway. Too much going on at work.

Really?

- I thought you were a civil servant. - Well, only in a sense.

I'm actually...press secretary and chief of staff at Buckingham Palace.

- Bloody hell! - Quite.

- Actually, I should be there now. - Well...

I'm very flattered, David.

I love you.

Oi! Oi! Come over 'ere! Come over 'ere, will ya?

- Do you want any business, mate? - I'm sorry? What?

Oh, no! It's the Old Bill!

Who is it?

Sarah, I am so sorry I've kept you waiting so long.

- I'm afraid it was unavoidable. - Yes, I can understand that.

But I'm not really very happy.

I can't quite see why you got me down here at all.

I don't see why you make

such a big point about how urgent it is that I abandon my plans

when you knew you wouldn't see me till midnight.

Sometimes I act on instinct, Sarah.

My instinct was that I might need

your talents immediately, and I needed you available.

- What for? - Your intelligence, your expertise.

And your political acumen. What else?

I have been given the distinct impression this evening,

not least by your wife.

that my presence here has more to do with my body!

- Oh? Really? - Yes! Really.

I mean, why all this bogus secrecy?

Why do you have to see me in my bedroom? Why not wherever you see everyone else?

Sometimes it's better if people get the wrong impression,

see you not as a political rival,

but as something less threatening.

Perhaps it appeals to your vanity, too?

Yes, perhaps it does.

I do find you a very attractive woman.

I find your cast of mind unusually attractive,

but I take very seriously what you said about your marriage.

And I have more important things in mind at the moment.

Now, how damaging would you say this new poll in the ''Times'' is,

and what can we do to counter it?

Uh... Well, it's very encouraging for the King.

But the questions were designed to elicit sympathetic answers.

''Has he a right to express an opinion? Is it time for a more caring Britain?''

Whereas, if you phrased it,

''Should the King be allowed to intervene

''or interfere in party politics?'' you'd get a very different response.

Suppose we ask, ''Should we get the country into economic shape

''before expensive public spending?''

There. We'd get a good result. Anything to do with strong leadership.

Does Britain need strong leadership? Is Francis Urquhart a strong leader?

I could deliver you a poll

that says Francis Urquhart is the best man to lead us

and His Majesty should shut up and mind his own business.

Nothing simpler.

Good. Very good. Set it up, will you?

We'll get it in one of the broadsheets. Stamper's going to tackle a few editors.

We should have a choice. No announcement of the election yet.

There will be rumours, of course. Get them jumping this way and that.

The King's the unknown quantity. I don't know what the man wants.

You'd think he'd be happy to wave from the balcony

and keep his opinions quiet,

after all the nonsense his family have got up to.

God knows what he's doing.

- Perhaps he's just a man of principle. - I'm afraid you may be right.

But if he pursues the course he's embarked on, he'll destroy himself.

Would you really bring down the monarchy

if you could, if you had to?

Bring down the monarchy? No.

The idea is abhorrent to me.

But to force the abdication of a particular king,

that has been done before.

If the country's good required it of me, I wouldn't shrink from it.

I dare do all that may become a man, Sarah.

How would you assess my chances of success?

If I found it necessary to take that course.

- Do you think I'd get away with it? - You're seriously asking me?

I wouldn't be wasting your time or mine if I weren't serious, Sarah.

I think you could get away with anything if you put your mind to it.

Thank you, Sarah.

Certainly not! You quite misunderstand. The brain is not a sexual organ.

This government is founded on family values.

Besides...a prime minister simply doesn't have the time.

All I said was, if he's so remarkably incisive and bold,

and I'm not trying to cast doubt on it,

it would just be a bit more illuminating

if you could remember one or two of the things that impressed you!

- Why are you being like this? - I'm not being like anything.

Since you don't find anything else worth talking about,

I'm trying to take an interest.

I'm just trying to get on the wavelength.

I'm sure it is all very interesting.

Tell me about it. Give me the inside dirt.

I can't. You must see that. It's all very, very confidential.

- I'm your husband! - And anybody could be listening!

Right. Stella Rimington's over there

- Oh, don't be so stupid. - I don't like being called stupid.

I'm sorry. Look, why don't we just talk about something else?

What I find a bit irritating is your assumption

of this insider-ish stance.

It's more than an assumption. It's a parade.

I would be perfectly happy to know nothing about your new job,

except you can't focus on anything but your thrilling new secrets

that nobody is allowed to know anything about!

- Andrew, that is so childish! - Oh, God!

- Is she proving satisfactory? - Yes. Full of bright ideas.

A little...arrogant. Very insistent about the value

she puts on her marriage.

She would never do anything to endanger it.

Very right and proper.

Rather rare these days. Refreshing, really.

Yes.

On the other hand, she's interested in learning everything I can teach her.

Talking of marriage, good, bad and broken -

had you thought of paying a visit to the House of Wounded Feelings?

Yes...

Of course, we hope to solve

these little differences with the King, but good.

Good, Elizabeth.

Good morning.

The rival court. Sloane Castle, as the tabloids call it.

If the world hears, where's the harm?

Such a shame, I always feel, to take sides after a divorce.

How one's heart goes out to the child.

Such an important child, too, in this particular case.

He needs to feel that somebody cares about him. And so does his mother.

- Mr. Urquhart. - Your Royal Highness.

So, how is FU?

I think he's a bit disappointed in you.

Really? Really? That's most unfair. What's he got to be disappointed about?

As a matter of fact, I'm a little disappointed myself.

We've given you stronger support than any other quality newspaper.

l, personally, have given my all.

I'll tell you it's been hell keeping those bloody bishops at bay.

And then to see that devious little squirt

Dickie Duckham shaking his K about!

''Sir Richard wonders whether you'd care"

"to join him for a glass of port?''

It's galling, Tim. It's very galling.

Afternoon, Tim. Afternoon, Bryan.

- Afternoon, Sir Bruce. - Hello, Bullerby.

There's another case in point. Vile man.

The pit bull's bitten quite a few legs in the cause, Bryan.

So you think you deserve a knighthood, too, do you?

Yes, I damn well do, if they're being handed out to Duckham and Bullerby!

I feel rather let down.

FU feels rather let down, Bryan.

FU would like to see a much stronger line

on royal interference.

FU tends to feel you should stop pissing about

and get behind the government.

Yes, well, you have to understand it's a very delicate business.

One doesn't like to mount blatant attacks

on the monarchy in the principal organ of record.

I'm not asking for blatant attacks.

Just strong, unequivocal support for this administration.

Nothing too delicate about that.

If you will forgive my being frank,

I'll tell you what IS a delicate business -

getting a knighthood for a convicted flasher.

Now that IS a delicate business.

How did you know about that?! Now, look. Look...

That was a stupid mistake. It was 15 years ago!

Nobody remembers it now.

Have to contradict you there, Bryan.

I remember it vividly. It sticks in one's memory.

Bryan Brynford-Jones had to be dragged off the Inverness sleeper

for waving his willy at a woman on the platform.

Innocent you may have been, but you pleaded guilty.

My lawyers told me to! My word against hers!

I could have fought the case for a year

and every paper would've given me a Melloring!

As it was, I...just got a couple of inches in a local rag.

Just a couple of inches, eh? Well, well.

The Stirling Evening Advertiser.

That's where I read about it. Don't worry, Bryan.

I snap up unconsidered trifles, but I'm very discreet.

At least, I can be. I'd hate to think what Dickie Duckham would do with it.

Or the pit bull, indeed.

Yes, well, um...

I take your point entirely, Tim.

I can promise you our full co-operation.

Thank you, Bryan.

And I think we might be able to surmount our difficulties over the elusive K.

Oh, you're very good, Tim.

Life does sometimes seem remarkably like crawling

through a tunnel of excrement.

Don't you find?

Yes.

One trusts it's all in a good cause.

How could it be otherwise?

Beef Wellington. Takes you back.

- I think I'll have it. - Me, too.

Thanks for coming at such short notice.

His Majesty's asked me to stress a couple of things.

Firstly, this is an informal,

but completely confidential, conversation.

Secondly, despite appearances,

it shouldn't be in any way construed as a political gathering.

Well, naturally. Perish the thought.

What I felt, you see, was that...

that, as individuals, Mr. Stroud is leader of the Opposition,

Baroness Craske is a liberal peer,

you two are known for independent views,

but if I may be frank with you,

I am absolutely exhausted

and dispirited by the narrowness, the pettiness,

the sheer lack of humanity and decency in what passes for political debate.

If we could, metaphorically, take off our official hats,

we'd be able to explore areas of common ground

in which we might sow the seeds of hope

for some sort of renewed life.

Do you see?

Could I say, Sir, that whilst I feel there is a great deal

of common ground here

and I am most encouraged by your initiative,

with the best will in the world,

I don't see how any seeds of hope will flower

as long as the present government remains in power.

- Oh, come on! - I have to be honest.

My policy has to be to oppose Urquhart and defeat him.

That said, I'm happy to talk about the meaning of life with anyone.

That's exactly the sort of attitude I wanted to get away from, man.

We're divided, polarised.

Surely exploring the meaning of life should be central,

not relegated to a leisure activity,

after the real business of the world is over.

But yes, of course, I invited you all to dinner.

Do order anything you like.

Don't let me put you off. After passing these wretched people in the streets,

I have very little appetite this evening, so just a little soup

and some bread for me, please.

And some water.

Thank you, Your Majesty.

Excellent idea, Sir. I think I'll do that, too.

Simple and good.

Yes, I'll just have the soup as well. Please.

- Ah, yes. The soup, please. - And anything else, sir?

No, no, just the soup.

I'll have the soup.

- Just the soup. - The soup.

- The soup. - Soup.

Soup. Fine.

- Get down! - It's a car bomb! Parliament Square!

- I might have that drink after all. - Bloody good idea.

Don't worry. No one we know.

Come in.

- Are you all right, sir? - Yes, of course.

- Corder? The usual thing, I take it? - All the familiar hallmarks. Bastards.

Absolutely. But quite convenient timing for us.

You have someone in mind?

There's a group we've been watching, yes.

- And they're guilty? - Well, they qualify.

It's what they're in London for.

Excellent, Corder.

Let's give their mothers something to cy about, shall we?

Right. Fine.

- Yes? - Francis?

- Sarah! - Sorry, is this all right?

- Yes, of course. - Are you all right? I was worried.

Not a scratch. I'm fine. But thank you for your concern.

Well, good night, then.

- Come round. - Now?

- What for? - Because I want to see you.

- Why? Are you exceptionally busy? - No...

I'll send a car round.

- I've got to go out, Andrew. - OK.

Sorry. It's work, you know.

Yes, fine.

There he is!

A few words, please! Mr. Stamper!

Francis! I got here as soon as I could.

Good of you, Tim, but there was no need. Everything's fine.

You go on, off to the hospital.

We need to talk, FU.

Brynford-Jones went belly up. No problem.

He was hinting about a knighthood, but he's good.

And Bruce Bullerby is very chuffed with the fat princess.

No problem there, either.

Excellent. Thank you, Tim.

Em...

Everyone's heard the election rumour, but nobody knows when it's going to be.

- Or even if, for certain. - Fine.

When I say nobody, I include myself.

I have to know! I am the bloody party chairman, Francis!

Trust me, Tim. It's better this way. One or two things to sort out first.

- What things?! - Trust me, as I trust you.

We'll speak soon.

Thank you.

It's a terrible mistake

to think Socialism's incompatible with the good life.

Absolutely. The good things in life belong to everyone. That's my view.

Our lot never had doctrinal problems of that sort, I'm glad to say.

Excuse me, Chloe. Four serious injuries, Sir. All comfortable.

They're extremely chuffed that you're visiting.

They'll expect us in 20 minutes.

- There'll be a lot of press there. - Perhaps I might come along as well.

Of course, Mr. Stroud.

Separate car from a different direction.

Yes, I understand, but if I could just say this.

I think we've found a remarkable consensus here tonight,

but from here on in it's hard politics.

If you want to make an omelette, you have to break an egg.

- We've got to get real. - I agree.

One thing we might get real about

is that your party can't win an election on its own,

and change will depend on some kind of realignment or alliance,

which will persuade Urquhart

of the folly of his ways or force his resignation.

But something like that takes years. Certainly not before the election.

- Whenever that is. - Unless you believe in miracles.

Or dirty tricks, which have been used against us often enough,

but I assume no one here would be prepared to use those.

- Even if we could. - Why do you all take such a passive...

and, yes, I must say this, defeatist line?

Can't you see that

if our will is strong enough, the means will present itself?

Tell me it isn't true. Tell me.

Mattie, Mattie... You trust me, don't you?

Did you... Did you kill Roger O'Neill?

Ireland is to do with honour, Sarah, not profit.

I'll never give an inch there.

You're a real dinosaur. You don't belong on the New Right.

I have an instinct for what the British people

are prepared to stomach, Sarah.

The forces that drive me come from centuries of history.

This used to be a proud nation.

It's becoming so again.

I'm giving us back our pride, Sarah.

Yes, of course, it's a painful process, but it's worth it.

And I fiddle the polls to help you make it happen?

How do you reconcile that?

I don't have to. I do whatever it takes.

Thank you. Your car's waiting.

Under the show, the struggle for power.

Deep down below it all, deeper than honour, deeper than pride,

deeper than lust and deeper than love...

is the getting of it all.

The seizing and the holding on.

The jaws locked,

biting into power and hanging on.

Biting and hanging on.

I have to get some money.

Armed police!

Yes? Corder!

Good.

Yes. All three of them? Excellent, Corder.

Oh, come now. They were terrorists. I thought you liked strong leadership.

Mr. John Stroud.

Will the Prime Minister confirm or deny

that the three citizens of the Irish Republic shot dead

at the Thamesmead Shopping Centre

were executed by members of the armed services

on a shoot-to-kill policy

personally authorised by the Prime Minister himself?

Order!

The Right Honourable gentleman

will hardly expect me to comment on a case

which is not only sub judice but subject to the Official Secrets Act.

I am surprised that the Right Honourable gentleman should be so naive.

Order! No! Order! Mr. John Staines.

Would the Prime Minister agree with me

that it's a matter for congratulation, not censure,

if three IRA murderers are stopped,

instead of being allowed to carry out their outrages?

And will the Prime Minister agree with me

that it's time we thought about the victims of the bombers,

instead of whingeing about the infringements

of the rights of bloody murderers?

I...I thank my Honourable friend.

I think in the circumstances

all I can reply is that he may very well think that,

but I couldn't possibly comment.

Beautiful morning.

I understand Sir Bruce is going hunting with the fat princess today.

Are we keeping an eye on that?

Help!

Ah! Aaah!

Aaaah!

Come on, Brucie! What's the matter?

- Thought you said you were a goer! - Steady...oh!

- Bloody dreadful little man. - I know, but dosh is dosh, Quillers.

- oh! - Go on, Brucie! Bloody marvellous!

- Is it a train or is it a bird? - That's most unkind!

Wow! That's really amazing.

God! I'm absolutely shaggers!

I'm wrecked, stonkered! Amazing day, though.

- Absolutely. - Bullerby, get that down your neck.

- Thanks. - Anyone see the hunt saboteurs?

Don't think so, no. All a bit of a blur, really, for me.

I had a brief exchange with one of them.

She called me a filthy blood junkie.

- Rather pithy, I thought. - What was your reply, Quilly?

I was rather lost for words.

Sort of hit her with my whip, I'm afraid.

- She'll wear a crash helmet next time! - Well, I'm going to hit my bath.

- You can come and talk to me, Bully. - Mm? Oh! Oh, right.

I'll, um...

I'll see you in a minute, then.

- She's game, though, Charlie! - You shut your disgusting mouth, Pink.

The man's ghosting her memoirs for posterity and a 100.000 retainer.

Really? I wonder if he'd like to do mine.

Nobody's done yours since prep school!

Oh, wow.

Come on in.

Come on. Don't be shy.

Come on.

You can do my back for me, if you like.

Oh...

Right.

Mmm...

Come on, Brucie. Bit of elbow grease.

Mm.

Oh, wow. That's amazing.

- You're magnificent. - Little Brucie!

I used to think you were absolutely horrible.

A total sleazebag.

But you're all right really, aren't you?

Shall we have oats?

Mmm.

Oh, wow!

- Are you going down to the country? - I thought I would, yes.

You won't mind if I don't join you till tomorrow?

Things to do.

I thought there might be. Don't work too hard.

- Yes? - Tim Stamper here.

Could we meet? To discuss things.

Sorry, I'm rather tied up, unless it's desperately urgent.

- Well... - Good.

It's sensible to have clearly defined parameters.

Sarah's giving me good input on political initiatives

and handling public opinion.

That leaves you free for all that bullying

and kicking the hell out of people.

That's not all I'm good for, Francis.

No. It's simply horses for courses.

I need to know how long we've got till polling day.

Very soon. Just need one or two things to fall into place. You understand.

- Oh, absolutely. Mm. Enough said. - Good man!

You owe me, Francis.

And you set your whore up over me.

- Spare us some change? - I haven't got any.

Oh, come on. Don't be like that.

Just a bit of loose change, that's all.

- You must be loaded! - Of course she's loaded. She's the one.

- Come on, girlie! - Help! Help!

- Let's have a look at you. - Hold still!

- Is that her? - Sarah Harding. That's the one.

Listen, girlie. Ask him about Mattie Storin.

Please let me go.

You're not listening!

Listen, girlie.

Ask him about Mattie Storin.

- Ask who? - You know who.

Let her go, Jim.

Ken?

Look, I'm not sure I can hack this.

Don't worry. They're a nice crowd here.

Got to get out sometime.

Stay there. I'll get them in.

- Staines. - Well, bugger me!

David Mycroft, isn't it? Dean, meet David.

Well, I never knew. Don't panic, David.

We're all friends here. Going to a party later on.

Do you wanna come?

Oh, on second thoughts, not your thing. All right, Ken?

See you then, David.

Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me.

- I'm all right, really. I'm fine. - Drink this. You've had a shock.

Yes. Yes, I have. I don't frighten very easily.

I didn't really panic then, quite.

It was just rather horrible.

She threw my bag away, didn't take my money.

I thought. ''They're going to kill me.''

Steady.

I'm sorry. This isn't me. I'm not like this.

You were very brave, Sarah. And you're safe now. Drink.

Yes. Thank you.

- Better now. - Someone wanted to frighten you.

Someone who wants to make you frightened of me.

- You're not frightened of me, are you? - No, not at all.

They asked you about Mattie Storin.

They told me to ask you about Mattie Storin. Who is she?

I'm sure I've heard that name before. Or read it somewhere.

She's dead, Sarah. Mattie Storin's dead.

If it's difficult, of course,

you don't have to tell me. Why should you?

I want to tell you.

Mattie was a brilliant young journalist.

Brilliant, but unstable.

I met her first several years ago when she came to interview me.

She had great gifts.

She wasn't in your class intellectually, but she was sharp.

Very quick to learn. I liked her very much, right from the start.

She was having difficulties in her career.

Mediocre middle-aged men, jealous of a talented young woman,

determined to block her progress, and I was able to help in small ways.

Nothing very much.

She had the talent to make her own way, but she was grateful.

And I was happy to be of help to her.

Gradually, I found I was looking forward more and more to our meetings.

There was...an edge to them.

An intensity.

That related to the instability that was Later to become so painfully apparent.

Her father had died when she was a child.

I have no children.

Daddy...

I always...

yearned to be a father of daughters.

I want to call you Daddy.

No doubt that was an element that played its part.

Daddy...

She told me that she had fallen in love with me.

And I found I was totally incapable of resisting her.

I had thought my feelings for her were entirely platonic.

She showed me they were not.

She showed me they were quite otherwise.

She spoke to a...

to a need in me I didn't even know was there.

Can you understand that at all?

Oh, yes.

Do you know, it's strange.

I've never told another living soul about this.

What happened? How did she die?

She killed herself.

And I still feel guilty.

I knew our affair was wrong,

that it would damage her in the long run,

and I determined I had to end it.

I tried to break it to her gently, but she seemed to fall apart.

She seemed to want to destroy herself or me or both of us.

She jumped from the roof garden of the House of Commons.

She'd followed me up there.

She wanted me to see.

She said, ''Look at me.

''Look what you made me do.''

- And she jumped! - Daddy!

I couldn't get near her.

I couldn't stop her, Sarah.

I think you have to stop blaming yourself.

I think you did everything you could.

But...how could I not feel guilt?

What she did was the act of an hysteric.

I'm sorry if that sounds brutal, but she wanted to damage you.

And she did it in the only way she could think of.

I feel very sorry for her, but that's the way it is, isn't it?

Perhaps you're right. I wish I could think so.

- It won't be that way with me. - What?

It won't be that way with me.

I'm not unstable or hysterical or self-destructive.

We'll come together as equals.

We'll enjoy each other and we'll part good friends.

That is what you want, isn't it?

I hadn't allowed myself to think about it

after what you said.

This has nothing to do with my marriage. You won't need to worry.

I can handle my marriage. I'm sure you can handle yours.

I am here to learn everything you have to teach me, after all.

Don't worry, Francis. It'll be fine.

Through here?

Women are strange feeders.

And now I have put myself into her hands,

as you might think.

But I believe she's safe.

She is, after all, a happily married woman.

And she has, after all, signed the Official Secrets' Act.

I think I'm ready for a bit of mischief now.

I think it's time I put myself about a bit.