Original subtitles

(Organ music)

Excuse me, Vicar.

Is this the Grantleigh Estate? It is indeed.

Oh, good.

I'm looking for the Old Lodge.

Ah.

You know where Badger's Wood is?

No.

Well, it's just past there.

First house on the right after the cottage on the left.

Thank you.

Oh, by the way, do you know who owns Grantleigh?

The Fforbes-Hamiltons.

Titled family, are they?

No, just plain Mr and Mrs.

Do you know where I could find Mr Fforbes-Hamilton?

He'll be here any moment now. Oh, good.

I'd like a word with him.

I doubt if you'll get much out of him.

Ah, here he comes now.

Would you mind?

Yes, of course.

Sorry.

Mr DeVere?

Yes.

Are you from the house agent's?

I am the house agent.

JJ Anderson of Anderson & Fish.

Are you the Mr DeVere of Cavendish Foods?

I am Cavendish Foods.

I do beg your pardon, sir. I wasn't absolutely...

Yes, all right. Let's get on. Is this it?

Yes. The Old Lodge. "This charming converted period..."

Yes, I've read that.

Highly misleading. This isn't what I expected at all.

I'm sure you'll be happy with the interior, sir. "Elegant yet functional..."

Show me. Yes, of course, sir. At once.

And now we come to the drawing room, sir.

Um...

Ah. "Converted at the turn of the century,

it makes a charming and compact gentleman's period house."

That's more like it.

I felt sure you'd agree with me, sir.

Not this. That.

Now, that's what I call a gentleman's period house.

Oh, that. Yes, well, that is a gentleman's period house.

Grantleigh Manor.

Who lives there?

I don't think "lives" is quite the right word, sir.

Oh, of course, Fforbes-Hamilton.

I saw him just now.

You saw him? In a manner of speaking.

Down at the church. Oh.

Very sad. He was the last of the line, you know.

Have they lived there very long? About 400 years.

But the late Mr Fforbes-Hamilton was only there for 46 of them.

What did he die of?

Well, I suspect it was good living, sir, diagnosed as pneumonia.

(Chuckles)

Any family?

Just the widow unfortunately.

Is she still going to live there?

We're all very much afraid so, sir.

Well, there we are, Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton.

He walked in the way of the Lord.

And served him right.

Yes, it certainly did.

Well, thank you, Rector. It was a lovely funeral.

We must have one again sometime.

I do hope you'll be able to join us for a drink at the manor.

Thank you, indeed.

Will you excuse me while I disrobe?

Brabinger, what have you done with Bertie?

Ah, there he is.

Oh, look, he's found a bone.

I think you'd better take him home now.

Very good, madam.

Marjory. Yes, Audrey?

You come with me. We're going back via the long walk.

(Sighs)

By the way, sir, will your wife be wishing to view?

I'm a widower. Oh.

But I do have a mother to accommodate.

She'd be in her element. Oh, absolutely, sir.

This would provide excellent accommodation for one's mother.

Not here. There.

That place will be on the market within a month.

Oh, no such luck, sir.

One little old widow is going to rattle around in a place that size.

I wouldn't call Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton a little old widow, sir.

Do you think she's open to offers? Well, hardly, sir. Not at the moment.

Well, she won't be there at the moment.

In fact, we could nip across and have a quick look at the place.

"We'? You mean me walk into someone's house?

I thought that was your job.

I don't think we should, sir.

It would be, to say the least, premature.

I'm not asking you to sell it to me.

Just show it to me. Come on.

Thank God that's over.

I can't stand the offhand manner of these undertakers.

Down at their office yesterday, I saw them playing hoopla with the wreathes.

I suppose it's their way of life.

Nonsense. Another example of falling standards.

Are we out of sight? Yes, I think so.

Good. I can take this damn hat off.

If there's one thing guaranteed to make a widow feel grizzly,

it's having to face the immediate future through a veil.

I think you were awfully brave, Audrey.

You kept your composure very well.

Marjory, how long have we been friends? All our lives just about.

And you agree that a great bond of respect and trust has grown up between us.

That is, if we overlook the little matter of the crush we both had on Cynthia Fitzsimmons.

Of course.

I don't want you to breathe a word of what I'm going to do now.

Of course, it's only natural that you should want to have a little emotional outburst in private.

Thank you, Marjory.

Nobody looking, is there?

No. Right.

Here goes.

Yippee!

There. Oh, I feel so much better now.

Audrey, I don't understand.

I'm a woman, Marjory.

A widow of barely a week.

I have just lost my husband.

You must forgive my little display of emotion. I can't help it.

Haven't you got your emotions mixed up a bit?

You don't expect me to go round po-faced the whole time?

I can't pretend that Marton pegging out like that

wasn't the most wonderful thing that's ever happened.

Just think, the Grantleigh Estate all mine now.

AllI ever wanted. If's too good to be true.

Oh, dear. Have I shocked you? Well, I must say, I am a little bit taken aback.

I mean, I knew that you and Marton didn't always get on.

Well, we do now.

I thought I saw you smiling behind your veil.

I hope nobody else did.

I must keep up appearances.

Remember what Miss Archibald told us in deportment classes.

BOTH: "Shoulders back, girls."

Oh, it's beautiful.

Just look at these proportions.

I'd rather not at the moment, thank you, sir.

Isn't this a Stubbs?

More than likely.

Mr DeVere, I really think we should be going now.

Anderson, I want this place.

Oh, impossible, sir.

We must leave at once. (Voices next door)

Let's go through here.

Good heavens! It's her We're done for.

Come on, this way.

Ahh!

This must be the great hall.

Hurry, sir.

Heaven help us! She's coming in here!

Mr DeVere... (Cork pops)

What was that?

Don't panic, Anderson. Brazen it out.

Me?

Here we go.

Hello. It's nice to see you.

Just introduce me, that's all.

Champagne? Do help yourself.

How nice to see you. How nice of you to come.

Oh, how very good of you to come, Mr...

Anderson. Yes, of course.

And this is Mr DeVere.

How do you do? My condolences, Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton.

How kind. It was a great shock, but life must go on.

Do help yourself to a drink.

It's Mr DeVere of Cavendish Foods.

Oh, the caterers? In that case, help everyone else to a drink.

Hello, Arnold.

Marjory, you know Arnold Plunkett, my trusted family solicitor and dear friend.

I do hope it hasn't been too painful for you, Audrey.

One must bear one's sorrows with fortitude. Brabinger.

I have some things I must talk to you about.

This afternoon, as soon as you have a moment. Business, I'm afraid.

Arnold, this is a funeral. You must learn not to combine business with pleasure.

It's very important. Well, not now.

Have you got a drink? Yes, I have.

Thank you. Now, go and get yourself one.

No drinks here? Go and help yourself, Mrs Beecham.

There's some lovely champagne down there.

Audrey, do you think champagne is quite suitable?

I want to butter up the staff before I announce my new plans for the estate.

It'll save having them all in again later. You can tell when they've been.

They help themselves to After Eights and leave the wrappers.

It's embarrassing when I find myself

offering a box of waste paper to the Lord Lieutenant.

Marjory, who is that man over there?

Which one? The one dressed like a chessboard.

He said he was with the caterers.

Well, I shall have a few words to say to them.

Hiring funeral clothes from Moss Bros is bad enough

but hiring them from Bertram Mills is unforgivable.

Audrey, could I have that word with you now? All in good time, Arnold.

I want to say my piece and pack them off before they drink me out of house and home.

Yes.

May I have your attention, please?

Thank you. Thank you, Brabinger.

Thank you.

Now, I know that with champagne and with me making a speech,

this is rapidly becoming a bit like a wedding.

Of course, I'd be the last to suggest that this was anything but a very sad occasion.

And I myself am utterly bereft. But life must go on.

And I see this not as the end of an era but as the beginning of a new one.

I shall continue to run the estate single-handed to the best of my ability.

I hope I shall be forgiven but I know that this would be the wish of my late dear dead loss.

Now, I want you to raise your glasses

and drink a toast to what would have meant more to him than anything else.

The future of Grantleigh Manor Estate.

ALL: Grantleigh Manor Estate.

Thank you. And do enjoy yourselves.

What a magnificent speech, Audrey.

A word spoken in due season, how good it is.

Proverbs 15:23. Thank you, Rector. Most encouraging.

Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton.

May I have a word? If you must.

This is hardly the time, I know, I understand what you must be going through.

It's only a few months ago that my wife passed away.

Your husband...pneumonia, I understand?

Double pneumonia. We Fforbes-Hamiltons do nothing by halves.

Audrey, I must talk to you now.

Oh, very well, Arnold.

Let's go into the drawing room.

Really, it's like feeding the 5,000.

Now, what is it? And it had better be very good.

It's bad.

Then it had better be very bad. I's worse.

Didn't Marton tell you he was bankrupt?

He tried not to bother me with little details. Little...

Little details? Audrey, there is no money.

The estate's been mortgaged to the bank for the last five years.

We've always had an overdraft. Who hasn't?

That's not the point. There'll still be a small fortune owing even when you sell up.

Sell Grantleigh? You're mad. The creditors are insisting on it.

Have they no sense of history?

We've been here through wars, plagues, floods, famine and Labour governments.

We can't let a thing like bankruptcy alter the natural course of events.

Times change. Not in this family. So what are we going to do?

Apart from raising the money to buy the place on the open market...

Then that's what we must do.

Be reasonable, Audrey. Where are you going to find a million pounds?

Where's my handbag?

Audrey... Arnold, losing one's husband is one thing.

That one can take.

But to lose the manor and the estate...

Look out there, Arnold.

Who built all that up to what it is today?

Not Marton. All he had to do was sign the cheques.

No, it was me. I did it.

By my own fair hand and the sweat of my brow.

At least, it was me who sent the men out.

And now it's all for nothing.

I'm sorry you had to see me like this.

I'm not normally given to crying.

It's only since we joined the Common Market

that I've picked up these ghastly Continental habits.

Your prospects aren't that bad, Audrey.

You can move out of here, live quietly somewhere. You'll survive.

Can you see me eking out my days listening to The Archers

and waiting for the mobile library?

You could marry again.

Oh, Arnold, you really are trying to spoil my day.

That's out of the question while we've got work to do.

Work?

If raising a measly million pounds is all we have to do to keep the estate in the family, I'll do it.

We'll form a trust.

Everybody who goes by our name has a duty to chip in.

We'll raise the money and buy Grantleigh back. Blood is thicker than water.

Well, I suppose you won't be satisfied

ill the walls of Grantleigh really are splattered red with the family blood.

Red? Blue, Arnold. Blue!

Miss Frobisher, madam.

Hello, Marjory. Come and sit down. Hello.

Brabinger, bring the drinks tray in, will you?

Golly, the place looks bare. What have you done?

Oh, we've taken all the "In sympathy" cards down.

Pity. They made the place look so cheerful.

There's a lovely one here from Mrs Beecham.

"May me and Harry offer you every assistance with your death."

How's the fund going?

£300,000 covenanted so far.

I've been going through the archives.

There's more family than I thought.

Aud, why don't you settle for what you've got?

Start a new life.

Get married again perhaps.

Have you been talking to Arnold? Why?

He's been trying to get me to leave here and sit bottling fruit until Mr Right comes along.

I'm not interested.

Unless, of course, Mr Right is a Mr Rothschild.

Well, money isn't everything. What about love and romance?

You mean sex.

You're sex mad.

I can get anything I want in that line just by snapping my fingers.

I never found snapping my fingers that exciting.

I'd only marry again if it enabled me to stay here.

At best it would be an arranged marriage, like it was with Marton.

That was an arranged marriage?

Of course. I arranged it.

The drinks, madam.

Thank you, Brabinger.

Your usual glass of sherry, madam?

Just half a glass, please, Brabinger.

Miss Frobisher? She'll have half a glass as well.

We're economising. I'm sorry. I should have brought a bottle.

We are not yet reduced to accepting charity, Marjory.

We've been over higher fences than this.

Madam, I would like you to know that I do have a few savings.

That's very sweet of you, Brabinger.

I've been putting something by for my old age.

But it's early days yet.

No, you keep it, Brabinger. If you say so, madam.

Enjoy it while you're still young.

Thank you, madam. Thank you, Brabinger.

You see what a responsibility I have to him, Marjory.

To all the estate workers.

You ought to get away for a bit.

At least you'd be spared the sight of

more prospective buyers traipsing through the manor.

The only people with money these days seem to be Arabs.

IfI can't keep the manor, I want it to go to one of us.

"England for the English," as we used to say about India.

I'm starving. How about you? Mm. Ready when you are.

I'l go and change.

Marjory, are you going to dress for dinner? I have.

To eat it or cook it?

Where's Audrey? The auction's due to start any minute now.

She's dressing. What for?

She wants to look her best.

Who does she think she is, Anne Boleyn?

(Chimes)

Ask not for whom the bell tolls.

It tolls for me.

Don't be dramatic, Audrey. Arnold, I may be about to lose my home.

You certainly will if you don't get a move on.

Welcome to Grantleigh Manor, ladies and gentlemen.

My instructions are to dispose of this first-class property...

They've started. How dare they!

Hurry up, Audrey.

How far can we go? 850.

That doesn't seem much.

Another 15,000 if we're pushed, but you'd have to sell something.

Arnold, is it enough?

It should be but you never can tell.

Come along, he's started the bidding.

So now I invite bids, ladies and gentlemen.

Who will start? I told Brabinger to reserve seats for us.

Was that a bid, madam?

Not yet.

Look at them. If we're not careful, we'll find this place rebuilt stone by stone in Abu Dhabi.

Like vultures round a honey pot.

Don't be silly. Vultures don't like honey.

Good luck, Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton.

Thank you, Rector. What are you doing here?

I'm simply doing the Lord's bidding.

Oh, I didn't know he was interested.

Well, that would be something. At least he's English.

If you're quite ready, madam?

Yes, thank you.

Please go on.

Who will start me at £700,000?

Thank you, sir. 750?

Thank you. 800?

Do I hear £800,000?

Thank you, sir. And 10?

20?

30?

407

507 I can't see who's bidding.

Ssh

Thank you, sir. 860,000.

Was that us? Yes.

The gentleman in the front row here at 860,000? Any more?

Certainly not. Bang your gavel, you silly man.

Thank you, sir. £870,000.

Who said that?

Against you, sir.

Five?

Very well. £875,000.

Do I hear £900,000?

No?

Oh, well, £875,000, then.

At £876,000. Against you, sir.

Sorry, Audrey. That's our limit.

At £876,000.

And 50 pence.

(Laughter)

Cash!

I'm sorry, madam. I'm selling the property for the first time.

To whom? All done?

For the second time, then.

At £876,000.

For the third time.

Sold to you, sir. If you'll just come up to the rostrum, sir.

Was that it, then? I'm afraid so.

Oh, Aud, I'm so sorry.

You mean I don't live here any more?

The end of an era. Shame.

It was all so quick. So clinical and inhuman.

400 years of history knocked down like a second-hand car.

Don't take it so much to heart, Audrey.

Say not the struggle naught availeth.

I wasn't going to, Rector.

Arnold, who's the buyer? I don't know. I didn't notice.

Good afternoon, Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton. Do you remember me? Richard DeVere.

I seem to know the name. I'm sorry, I can't quite recall where...

We met on the day of your husband's funeral.

Oh, yes. I'm glad to see you're properly dressed this time.

Dressed for what? Well, aren't you doing the catering?

Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I made a point of it.

I hope everything's satisfactory.

Mr DeVere, if you'd sign the memorandum of contract. And then pay the deposit...

Later. Later.

Deposit? Yes.

I've just bought Grantleigh.

I'm settling for a quieter life and this will make an excellent business headquarters.

Grantleigh in catering?

Well, that's only a tiny subsidiary.

I'm in international foodstuffs.

DeVere. Of course. Cavendish Foods.

We grow all our own food here. You'll be frightfully bored.

It's a multinational operation run on a telex link.

It could be here or Timbuktu.

I hear there are some excellent properties in Timbuktu.

Unfortunately, not within hopping distance of London and Paris.

You see, I also intend using this place as a leisure centre for my business associates.

And other things, of course.

What other things?

A home for my mother and me.

There'll have to be a few changes.

Like turning the ballroom into an open-plan office concourse.

The wire room could go in the study.

With imagination, one could really make something of this place.

Excuse me.

Arnold, stop him. Too late. We were beaten.

All the same, I think I'll have a word.

What about? Oh, this and that.

One has to think of the future, you know.

Look at that, Marjory. The rats are leaving the sinking ship.

Cucumber sandwich, madam?

No, thank you, Brabinger. It would choke me.

I'l have one. Marjory!

Richard DeVere!

Can you see that man as lord of the manor of Grantleigh?

Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, I can.

Now, don't you be beguiled by that smooth tongue and those rugged good looks.

At least you admit he was good-looking. I admit nothing.

A leisure centre, indeed.

Can you imagine it?

Marjory! Yes?

Imagine it! I was.

Pinball machines in the great hall.

Sauna baths in the conservatory.

And heaven knows what in the bedrooms.

At least he's English.

But he's trade.

He's top of a multinational whatsit.

That does not alter the fact that he's a grocer.

There are some... There are some jolly rich grocers.

The ability to run an historic estate is in the blood.

It isn't something you can buy at Sainsbury's.

Oh, come on. You can do anything with money. That's why he's got Grantleigh and you haven't.

True.

I wonder if he's in Who's Who.

I wonder if he is somebody.

He must be somebody. No, I mean somebody as opposed to anybody.

D.

D..

No.

No, there's no Richard DeVere.

Perhaps he's so important, he's ex-directory.

Marjory, the Queen is in here.

Um, may I come in? Please do.

After all, the place is yours now.

I understand how you feel.

I just wanted to say, I'd be greatly honoured

if you'd consider yourself my guest here for as long as it suits you.

Mr DeVere, that's very generous of you.

Well, it's the least I can do.

I'l do my best to keep out of your way.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Do you have to go?

I've a great deal to do.

But I won't say goodbye.

Just au revoir.

Golly, what a man.

Yes, isn't he?

Aud, you're not thinking of...

Why not? You've said the most terrible things about him.

Marjory, you must learn not to confuse money with breeding.

He's got the money, I've got the breeding.

Do you think he might be your Mr Right?

I don't know about Mr Right but he could very well be Mr Convenient.