All language subtitles for Mapp.and.lucia.S01E01.FoV (HDTV + 720p).English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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How much further, Cadman?

About half an hour, ma'am.

A shame Mr Pillson's missing all
this glorious scenery.

Oh, how tiresome.

I made it myself. Saw the pattern
in the Ladies' Companion.

Diva, dear,
what a very brave colour!

I almost mistook
you for the pillar-box.

Good morning, Irene.
What a beautiful picture,

all the skinned piggies in a row.

Or are they sheep?

Don't know. They all look the same
with their clothes off.

Ha!

Ha(!)

Oh, Georgie, come estay!

You not cross with ickle Lucia?

I just wish you'd tell me
where we're going.

You know I don't like surprises.
Impossible to pack for.

Do you remember a woman who stayed
at the Ambermere Arms one summer,

a Miss Mapp?

Vaguely...

'A busy little woman with
lots of teeth.

'She talked about a place
called Tilling,

'where she had a Queen Anne house.'

Why, what about her?

I need to escape Riseholme, Georgie,
and her house will be my retreat.

Elizabeth!

Sweet Evie, how-de-do?

We're playing bridge at the rectory
this afternoon.

I do hope you can pop in.

I'm preparing rather a daring
surprise for us all.

~ Oh, you mean the redcurrant fool?
~ Ooh!

I happened to notice you go
directly from procuring

over-ripe redcurrants
at Twistevant's

into Mr Hopkins',

and as I knew you couldn't possibly
be putting fish on top of fruit,

you were most probably buying ice,
ergo iced redcurrant fool.

Such a clever way of using up
damaged fruit.

~ You are quite ingenious.
~ Thank you.

Sadly, I can't attend,

as I'm expecting some rather
important guests of my own

this afternoon but do have fun.
Au reservoir!

Don't sulk, dear.
I'll only be here for two months.

Dear Mrs Lucas!

No need for introductions,
which makes everything so happy.

And Mr Pillson, too!

Miss Mapp.

Oh, Elizabeth, please!

Tea at once, Withers, in the garden.

When I got your telegram yesterday,

I clapped my hands with joy

at the thought of having such
a tenant as Mrs Lucas of Riseholme.

Now let me show you round.

(Try to put on a brave face for me,
Georgie.)

Hmph.

Telephone room, which looks out
onto our quaint little high street.

Library.

Simulacra.

The dining room.

Lots of lovely light.

The garden room.

Hmm?

My sweet rainbow of piggies.

~ Hello, piggies!
~ (They'll have to go.)

~ Sorry? ~ Oh, I love them so.

The terms would include
the use of the piano,

a Blumenfeld,
as I'm sure you're aware.

Antique.

Roses. The euphorbias in the bed
over there.

Rather a nice clematis.

It's enchanting.

I don't know how you can flit off
to Tilling for the summer,

leave me in Riseholme with nothing
but my croquet and my bibelots.

It isn't fair.

And if you'd like to follow me
through here...

.. my little secret garden.

Very modest, as you can see,
but so well beloved.

Georgie, how divine.

Un giardino segreto.
Molto bello!

Oh! How lovely to be able to speak
little scraps of Italian like that.

Giardino segreto, was it?

I must remember that.

My husband and I...

Well, my late... husband and I

used to often address each other
using la bella lingua.

Isn't that right, Georgie?

Yes.

Which is why I wanted to get away
from Riseholme for a short while.

Such painful memories.

Oh, well, I am so sorry
to hear that.

Your husband, I mean,
not the Italian.

It must have been a very trying
few days...

Weeks?

A year, Miss Mapp.

A year of uncompromising mourning.

A whole year?

Gosh!

An old spinster like me can barely
guess at the depths of such passion.

Maybe one day...

Anyhow,
if I could just scriggle through...

.. we'll take a peep at the bedrooms.

~ Oh! I saw a head. ~ Where?

~ Maid's room. ~ They must be serious
if they're thinking about staff.

I wonder if they're married...

Will ye hold yer wheesht, woman?

~ 'Tis naebody's business
but their own. ~ But I only meant...

Whit starts a thread soon ends
a rope. Think on.

Well, I'm sorry, Padre,
but I need to know.

I can't take Irene's
house for the summer

unless Elizabeth takes mine,

and Irene can't take the labourer's
cottage,

~ and the labourer can't take
the shanty on the beach! ~ Ripples.

Exactly! Thank you, Irene. Ripples.

And Mrs whoever-she-is,
she's the stone.

Little daubs of my own.

I should sink into the ground with
shame should you look at them,

Mr Pillson, for I remember what
a great artist you are yourself.

Miss Coles.

~ Major. ~ Uh, Padre! Missed you at the
links this morning, old man.

~ What news? ~ 'Tis the new summer
tenants for Mallards, Major.

A laddie and lassie from yon
Riseholme, we believe.

Ah, new blood, what?

Just what we chaps need here in
Tilling - reinforcements, eh, Padre?

They're coming!

She's got one on each arm and the
car following behind like a funeral.

~ Do you think they've taken it?
~ No idea.

They're staying the night at the
Trader's Arms.

~ Mrs Lucas, Mr Pillson, not married.
~ Ooh!

Hmm. Wonder if the fellow's
an Army type.

~ I wouldn't get your hopes up, Major. ~ Hmm.

Is that a boy or a girl?
It's so difficult to tell.

Quaint Irene, Irene Coles,

the disgrace of Tilling.

She paints strange pictures
of men and women with no clothes on.

But you will find Tilling more than
accepting of

~ a touch of unconventionality.
~ Yes, we find in Riseholme that...

Good afternoon, Diva, dear!

Diva Plaistow, christened Godiva,
would you believe.

Such a handicap,
but we're all devoted to her.

Good afternoon.

Always follows the latest fashions.

One can only hope that one day
she may catch up with them.

Padre and his wife Evie -

both very good bridge players.

Do you play bridge, Mrs Lucas?

~ Well, I...
~ Plenty of that in Tilling.

Oh, here's Major Benjy,
back from the links.

Do pop in later, Major,
tell me about your game.

Ladies.

He served in India for many years.

Hindustani is quite his second
language -

calls "quai-hi"
when he wants his breakfast.

Looks like you'll all have to make
room for two more

under Queen Mapp's pudgy
little thumb.

~ Was that a cape he was wearing?
~ A black dress.

~ A widow's weeds.
~ How thrilling.

Damned popinjay,
if you ask me.

I wonder
if they're moving in together.

~ Ooh! ~ We shall have to wait and see,
Mistress Plaistow.

They're the property
of Elizabeth Mapp the noo.

Good afternoon, sir.
How can I help you?

Yes, I believe you have rooms
reserved for Mr Pillson

and Mrs Lucas.

That's right.

One double room for tonight,
is that correct, sir?

Double room?

Yes, sir. A nice big queen-size bed.

Anything wrong, sir?

I think there's been
a misunderstanding.

Una bella vista.

Indeed. And what a view.

One almost wishes one could
charge extra for it.

Well, it would be worth every penny.

Which brings us on to the rather
delicate subject...

15 guineas a week.

15? I thought the Times had it
as 12.

A misprint.

Such carelessness.
I've been assured heads will roll.

Of course that would not include the
wages of my gardener Coplen -

such a hard worker -
or any garden produce.

Flowers for the house, by all means,
but no fruit or vegetables.

How kind.

Well, if those are the terms,
then I am satisfied.

~ Excellent.
~ And where, may I ask,

will you be spending the summer
yourself, Miss Mapp?

Italy, perhaps, or France?

Oh, goodness me, no!

No, I shall be staying here,
in Tilling.

I see.

I have agreed to take Diva's
house - Wasters - for the summer.

A charming little cottage,
though rather gloomy,

then Diva will take Irene's,

and Irene makes her own
arrangements.

No true Tillingite is ever really
happy away from her own town,

Mrs Lucas, and this way we all get
the benefit of a change of scene

without going to a lot of
unnecessary expense.

And you all make a little
bit of profit on the side.

How quaint.

Ah!

Ah, Georgie! Everything settled?

Yes, yes. Two rooms -
one for each of us.

Well, I will, as they say,
love you and leave you.

Good afternoon, Mrs Lucas.

Mr Pillson...

Or, as we say here in Tilling,

au reservoir!

She's stolen your "reservoir".

She heard it in Riseholme
and smuggled it into Tilling!

I fear that's not all
she has stolen, Georgie.

Come, let us unpack and take supper.

~ We have much to discuss. ~ Yes!

Beautiful light.

Yes, charming.

Dr Dobbie!
Dr Dobbie, please come quick!

My canary's having a fit!

Quai-hi!

Quai-hi, damn you!

♪ Will ye no' come back again?

♪ Will ye no' come back again?

♪ Better loved ye cannae be... ♪

Oh, it's entrancing.

They're all being so themselves,
and so human and busy.

Must just rest here for a moment.

That's quite a walk you've
taken me on, Georgie.

~ Oh, Lucia, look! ~ Hmm?

The house next door to yours
is for rent too.

Oh, yes, so it is.

Looks charming.

I'd be tempted to take it

if I could get it for the months
when you are here.

Oh, what a delicious idea!
Are you really thinking of it?

Why not?

Riseholme will be as dull
as ditchwater without you there.

Oh, heaven for me to have
a friend here

instead of being planted
amongst strangers.

We must pay a visit to the estate
agent first thing in the morning.

Remember the name, Georgie.
Woolgar & Pipstow.

Woolgar & Pipstow,
Woolgar & Pipstow.

How exciting. Woolgar & Pipstow.

~ I hope it isn't taken.
~ Oh, I hope not.

Woolgar & Pipstow,
Woolgar & Pipstow.

~ Oh, what a summer we can
have together, Georgie. ~ Oh, yes.

Woggles & Pickstick, was it? No...

Woolworth & Poppit?

Hmm.

Woolgar & Pipstow.

Yes, Woolgar & Pipstow.

Georgie?

Georgie, it's me.

May I come in?

Lucia very cold next door.

Is there room with you for snuggles?

Good morning, Georgie.

Did you sleep well?

Yes, yes, like a baby. And you?

Not a wink.

Oh, dear.

Delicious, isn't it,

to think of the new interchange
of experience which awaits us here?

Riseholme is in a rut,
Georgie.

We're in a rut and we want,
both of us, to get out of it.

Yes. Yes, a change is as good as
a rest, and all that,

but we can still enjoy our sewing
and our music

and our painting,
can't we... as friends?

Of course, dear.

That's why I brought you with me.

I'd hoped you'd fall in love with
Tilling as I had done

and we can summer here together.

Yes... as friends.

You are my rock, Georgie,
and always will be.

Now, let us find that house agent.
Did you remember the name?

Wimsey & Pippin, wasn't it?

No, wasn't it Williams & something?
I had it last night...

~ And how many grapefruits do you
have? ~ About half a dozen?

I'll take the lot. Hollywood diet.
I'm starting tomorrow.

And some pepper for my canary,
please.

~ He's got the pip. ~ Right-o.

~ Oh! Porpoise Street!
~ That's the dentist's.

Maybe she's got toothache?

Else they're paying
their respects to Mr and Mrs Wyse.

So sorry to keep you waiting.

Figgis thought that
I was in the garden

but I was in my boudoir
all the time. Susan Wyse.

~ Charmed. ~ Do sit down.

You must excuse my deshabille,
just my shopping frock.

You wish to discuss Mallards Cottage,
Mr Pillson?

Yes. The house agent told us
it belonged to your daughter,

but she can't be contacted.

Oh, dear Isabel,
out in the sand dunes all morning.

"What if a tramp came along?"
I say to her, but no use.

She calls it the Browning Society

and she must not miss a meeting.

How amusing.

Browning, not the poet,
but the action of the sun.

Oh, and here's Mr Wyse.

Algernon, Mrs Lucas and Mr Pillson.

Mr Pillson wishes to take
Mallards Cottage.

From your beautiful
Riseholme, I understand.

News travels fast.

And we are all encouraging ourselves
to hope that the charm

of our picturesque little Tilling
might for two months at least

give Susan and myself the
inestimable pleasure

of being your neighbours.

Oh, but the pleasure's all mine,
Mr Wyse.

Yes. Well, we have to leave soon,
so I was rather hoping...

Yes, Algernon, tell Figgis to bring
the Royce to the door.

The street is steep, Mrs Lucas,

and the cobbles most unpleasant
to walk on.

Oh! So like the servants to leave
this lying about!

Oh, an Order of some sort?

Member of the British Empire,

graciously bestowed upon myself for
services to the Tilling hospital.

The servants are under strict
instructions to keep the box closed,

but they seem proud of it
and like to show it off.

~ Congratulations.
~ Oh, not worth mentioning.

Oh, that will be the Royce.

A warm morning, is it not?

I don't think I shall need my furs.

Drive on, Ghashley.

There, now.

Dear Mrs Lucas, I just popped
across to see if you would not take

an early lunch with me before
returning to your lovely Riseholme.

Oh, so kind, but Mrs Wyse has just
asked us to lunch with her.

I see.

What a pity.

I had hoped but... there it is.

Sweet Susan!

Elizabeth.

I should scold you for stealing
away my tenant like that...

and Mr Wyse too. How-de-do?

De-do.

~ Having an early luncheon, I gather?
~ Quite so.

Well, I should just toddle on
and fill my basket

with provisions for one.

Have a safe journey back to
Riseholme, Mrs Lucas, Mr Pillson.

And as we say here in Tilling, au...

Au reservoir.

Ah!

Shall we?

Extraordinary, her face when I said
we were dining with Mrs Wyse.

Like she wanted to bite or
scratch her.

As if Mrs Wyse had pocketed
something of hers.

I think she means to run me,
Georgie.

I believe Tilling is seething with
intrigue, but we shall see.

We shall see.

Poor Susan.

Ever since she married Mr Wyse,
she's become quite the snob.

The fur coat, the extravagant
fundraising.

I think there is quite an air of
desperation about her,

wouldn't you agree?

None of my business, I'm sure,
Miss Elizabeth.

But the ladies of Tilling do have
a pretty sharp eye

for each other's failings,
that's for sure.

Funny little fairies!

Oh, no offence.

I must be sure to offer
Mrs Lucas my protection

against the undesirable
elements of Tilling society.

It would be such a tragedy

if she were to form a misleading
impression

of our happy little community.

I wonder, Major,
might I offer you a whisky and soda?

I shan't be shocked.

Ah, well! Deuced warm day,
what?

Why not? Capital.

Yes, I'm not sure our dear friends
realise that poor Mrs Lucas

is still in mourning for
her late husband.

She made it quite clear to me
that on her return

she did not wish to be
called upon...

.. or invited to luncheons
hither and thither.

Of course, I didn't say anything

because there's nothing
that Tilling detests

more than any hint of,
shall we say, superiority.

But it might be kind
if word did get round...

What?

Oh, yes, quite so, quite so.

Mrs Lucas, solitary confinement.

The King... God bless him.

Mrs Plaidstow.

Major.

Enjoy.

Oh, no.

There!

Don't, Kenneth!
No, she doesn't want a fuss.

She's grieving, remember. Ooh!

Well, she disnae hide her light
under a bushel, that's for sure.

Everything all right, Georgie?

Yes, yes, I just want to make sure
Foljambe's happy.

Well, why wouldn't she be?

The maid's room is very spacious.

Foljambe's more than a maid,
Lucia, you know that.

That's like saying
your Royal Doulton's just a plate.

It IS a plate.

You know what I mean.

Well, Foljambe?

~ Very nice, sir. ~ It'll do?

It'll more than do, sir.

I think we shall have a very
pleasant summer here.

Very pleasant indeed.

~ Thank you.
~ Everyone happy, Georgie?

~ Yes. ~ Foljambe's pleased with it?
~ She loves it.

Well, she can't be that
much of a recluse

if she's allowing herself to be
photographed.

An Elizabethan fete.
Verily, that's quite an undertaking.

Hmm, she was Good Queen Bess,
apparently,

and the Pillson chap was Drake,
if you can imagine such a thing.

Not much of a hand against the
Spaniards, I should think.

Tea parties with a load of old
cats more his line.

Imagine if Tilling
were in the newspapers.

Oh, that would be awful, wouldn't it?

~ Unbearable. ~ Good morning!

~ Mrs Lucas.
~ My first ever morning shop.

Quite a Tilling tradition, I gather.

Er... Anything of interest
in the newspapers today?

We shall have fog by teatime.

Good day.

I see you have another fine
day for your...

.. golf.

Mr Pillson, please
forgive my unwarrantable rudeness.

I merely meant to take
a peep at your delightful sketch

~ and then to steal away.
~ No, that's quite all right.

I'm struggling with
the perspective, actually.

It's so tiresome when you mean to
make a path go uphill

and it goes downhill instead.

Not a bit of it.

Da Vinci himself could not have
captured the scene more faithfully.

Oh, thank you.

I'm going to give it
to Miss Mapp as a gift.

A little thank-you for introducing
Lucia and me to Tilling.

Then I will leave you to your
masterpiece and bid you good day...

~ Oh! ~ .. for I know how closely
Mrs Lucas and yourself

value your privacy.

~ Au reservoir.
~ Oh, yes. Yes, but that's not what...

Thank you.

Very strange.

.. chair inside the door.
And mind that floor - there's a rug.

~ Oh, don't mind me.
~ Can I help you, Miss?

Just popped in to fetch a thimble
that I left behind.

I'll just scriggle through
here.

Oh, goodness me,
that looks like heavy work.

No need to follow me.

I know precisely where it is.
Not scraping any walls, I hope.

No, Miss, no.

She's shunted the Blumenfeld
into the telephone room

and she's hired a new
piano from Brighton.

No! Think of the expense!

I can only assume that dear Mama's
instrument

was not quite good
enough for her.

Unbelievable extravagance.

Oh, Grosvenor,
you quite startled me.

I just popped into the kitchen

to retrieve this little
screwdriver - so useful!

Quantities of tinned
goods from Fortnum & Mason

~ and Darjeeling tea imported
direct from India. ~ No!

Rather ostentatious,
not quite the Tilling way,

but we mustn't pass judgment... dear
Evie...

.. not yet.

Oh, you dear thief!

What about garden produce?

I beg your pardon?

It's just my little joke,
Lulu, darling.

You may eat every fig in my garden

and I wish there were more!

My hot-water bottle, such a comfort.

She'd practically stripped
the entire tree of figs,

despite of the terms of her tenancy,

and I just stood by in absolute
silence.

~ Couldn't say a word. ~ Ohh.

Oh, bad luck.

Ah, Coplen, I'd like you to
cut the lawn today,

it's got dreadfully long.

Very sorry, ma'am,
I don't think I can find the time.

Miss Mapp has asked me
to manure the strawberry beds today.

But what has Miss Mapp got
to do with it?

You're in my employment now.

But my orders are to go to Miss Mapp
every morning

and she tells me
what she wants done.

In future, I'd like you to come to
me every morning

and ask me what I would like done.

No strawberry beds will be manured

until the garden looks less like a
tramp that hasn't shaved for a week.

Yes, ma'am.

No strawberries, Mrs Lucas's orders,
Elizabeth furious.

Oh, dear!

Ha! Well, I, for one,
adore her already.

Let battle commence!

May I pop in, dear?

So sorry to
interrupt your sweet music

but my Coplen has just come to me
in great perplexity.

What SEEMS to be the problem?

A little misunderstanding, no doubt.

Coplen is not clever.

I said I would come to see you
and make it all right.

Nothing easier, dear.

He didn't quite grasp, I think,

that he is in my employment.

Naturally, I reminded him of it.

He understands now, I hope?

But my garden produce, Lulu, dear!

It is not much use to me
if my beautiful pears are left

to rot on the trees
until the wasps eat them.

No doubt that is so, but Coplen,
whose wages I pay,

is of no use to me if he spends
his entire time

looking after your garden produce.

So, that's settled.

Lulu, anything would be better than
that

I should have a misunderstanding
with such a dear as you.

I won't argue.

I won't put my point of view at all.

I yield.

There!

If you CAN spare Coplen for an hour
in the morning

to take my little fruits and
vegetables to the greengrocer's...

Quite impossible, I'm afraid, dear.

Coplen has been neglecting
the flower garden dreadfully,

so you'll have to find
somebody else.

Oh, precious one,
it shall be just as you wish.

And I must run away.

Au reservoir!

Mr Pillson's here, ma'am.

Show him into the dining room
Grosvenor... slowly.

Oh, yes.

Things are beginning to move,
Georgie.

Night marches. Manoeuvres.

Elizabeth, as I suspected, wishes to
run me. And if she can't... ha!

~ If?! ~ If she can't,
she'll try to fight me.

I see glimpses of malice in her.

So you'll fight her?

Of course not, dear.
What do you take me for?

I positively hate that
kind of thing.

As if it matters who takes the lead.
No, no, no. I shan't fight.

But every now and then,
when I deem it absolutely necessary,

I might have to give her
one or two hard slaps.

I won't have her walking
into my house without ringing,

~ so I told Grosvenor to
put up a chain. ~ No!

Mm-hm, and she calls me Lulu,
which makes me feel sick.

Nobody has ever called me Lulu
and they shan't begin now.

And what about the others?

I've found them all cold
and a little stand-offish.

I have no doubt that
a campaign has been waged -

divide and rule -

so I'm going to ask Diva and the
major to dinner tomorrow night.

You'll come too, of course.

'Chocolates for her, curry for him.

'We'll play bridge
and let the major lay down the law.

'Then, the following evening,
I shall ask the Wyses

'and talk about fundraising
and MBEs.

'Then the Bartletts
and Irene for Scotch and art.'

It's new in Tilling, I find,
to give little dinners -

tea being the usual entertainment -

so I won't ask Elizabeth for
at least a week.

But, my dear, isn't that war?

Not at all.
It's benevolent neutrality.

We'll soon see
if she learns any sense.

And now, Georgie, un po di musica.

Let us spend an hour with Mozart

and repel all thoughts of discord.

The new duet came this morning.

I haven't had a chance to
look at it yet.

~ Oh! ~ Oh! Seems awfully difficult.

~ Me fwightened.
~ Georgie fwightened too.

Looks dwefful diffy.

Naughty Mozart!

You must be patient with me, caro,
you know how badly I sight-read.

Uno, due, tre...

Well...?

Well, what, dear?

Mrs Lucas.

Dinner.

Yes. It's about time Tilling started
doing dinners, Algernon agrees.

We accepted, of course.

Accepted what?

What are you all talking about?

I shouldn't really, but as you've
gone to all this trouble...

Your very good health, Mrs Lucas.

And yours, Major.

Your health.

And did you speak to the Queen?

Indeed I did.

She turned to me
and said, "So pleased."

And what she put into those
two words

I'm sure I can never convey to you.

Fascinating.

"Aye," he says, "but when petticoats
woo, breeks may come speed."

And now, Mrs Lucas, if I may,
a toast to absent friends.

Absent friends.

Nice figs. From the garden?

Yes, dear, via Twistevant's
of course. Such a quaint name.

No bid.

But doesn't Elizabeth give you
garden produce?

No, just flowers for the house,
nothing more.

But I fully understood...

At least I...

Well, I thought that...

Well, well, who gives a fig,
eh, Pillson, what?

The major's correct, as always.

We must not let fruit
come between friends.

But it's not fair!

She's got my house,
with garden produce thrown in,

for eight guineas a week

and she lets out her own,
without garden produce, for 12.

No, dear, I pay 15.

But it's down in Woolgar's
books at 12, I saw it myself!

Dear Elizabeth.

So glad she was sharp enough to get
a few more guineas.

Yes... Damn!

We read with interest about your
Elizabethan fete at Riseholme.

A great success, I understand?

Lucia was marvellous. Organised
the whole thing single-handed.

No bid.

We so much want somebody at Tilling
who can carry through

schemes like that.

The hospital, for instance,
is always in need of funds.

~ Oh? ~ No bid.

Perhaps a garden fete would be
simple to organise.

We could have it in the garden here,
half a crown admission,

some tableaux vivants...

I was trying to summon my courage to
suggest exactly that.

The use of Mallards' garden has
never previously been

allowed for such a purpose.
We've often lamented it.

You should form a committee,
Padre, along with Mrs Wyse,

who really thought of the idea.

And with yourself,
that'll make three.

Well, that's enough for any
committee

that's going to do its work
without any argle-bargle.

The major could
read from his Indian diaries

and Irene knows all
manner of amusing verses!

The boy stood on the burning deck

The deck was made of brass

He did a double somersault

And landed on his...

Ace of diamonds.
Thank you, Irene.

We could recreate Elizabeth and
Drake from the fete at Riseholme.

And if Miss Mapp would supply
the refreshment booth

with fruit from her garden here,
that would be a great help.

Oh, how you all work me!

And to think I'd planned a little
holiday in Tilling.

~ We must start work
in earnest tomorrow. ~ Capital!

Most agreeable evening of bridge
I've ever spent in this room,

eh, Mrs Plaistow?

Oh, I'll say.
Makes a pleasant change.

Oh, I'm exhausted.

I hate pretending to lose at bridge
every night, it's so tiresome!

But how happy it made them, Georgie!

And what are a few pennies
and a little pride

if we can bring joy to others?

I wonder if you're wise to join
the committee, though.

~ It might seem... ~ Hmm, I know what
you mean... Grabby. ~ Hmm.

No, you're right.

I shall drop a line to the
padre in the morning saying

I'm really too busy and beg him
to ask Elizabeth instead.

In the light, in the light.

~ Ready? ~ Hmm.

It's beautiful.

Well, thank you, Foljambe.

I chose the frame myself.

I thought it accentuated
the architecture rather nicely.

~ I wouldn't know about that, sir. ~ Ahh.

Well, could you wrap it up
in your special way

with the little bow on top

and send it to Miss Mapp
at Wasters Cottage, please?

~ It's a peace offering.
~ Very good, sir.

Dear Rev Bartlett,
I'm afraid I must resign

from the fundraising committee...

May I come in, dear?

Certainly.

Sweet Lulu...

.. first I... I must apologise so
humbly.

Such a stupid accident. I tried to
open your front door just now

and I gave it a teeny little push,

and your servants had forgotten
to take the chain down.

I'm afraid I broke something.

The hasp must have been rusty.

But didn't Grosvenor open the door
when you rang?

Well, that's just what
I forgot to do, dear.

I thought I would just pop in to see
you without troubling Grosvenor.

You and I such friends,

and so hard to remember
that my little Mallards...

Several things to talk about...

But first, let us
see what damage you've done.

Any sign of rust, Grosvenor?

No, madam.

No?

So sorry, dear Lulu,

I had no idea
the chain would be up.

We all leave our
doors on the latch in Tilling -

~ it's quite a habit.
~ Yes, I always used to in Riseholme.

Let us go through to the garden room

and you can tell me
what you came to talk about.

Yes, several things...

Firstly, I'm collecting for a little
jumble sale for the hospital...

and I wanted to look out
some old curtains and rugs

from the cupboard
in the spare room.

May I just pop upstairs
and poke about a bit to find them?

By all means.
Grosvenor will go round with you

~ as soon as she's back from the
ironmonger's. ~ Thank you, dear,

but there's no need to trouble
Grosvenor.

Then, another thing,

I have heard a little
gossip in the town

about a fete which it is proposed
to give in my garden.

I feel sure it is mere tittle-tattle

but I thought it better to come here

to know from you that there
is no foundation for it.

But I hope there is a great deal.

Some tableaux, some singing -

in order to raise funds for the
hospital -

and it would be so kind if
you could supply

the fruit for the refreshment booth
from your garden.

That would be difficult,
darling Lulu.

I have contracted all
my garden produce to Twistevant's.

The fruit is no longer mine.

Perhaps then you could let us
have some fruit from Diva's garden,

unless you've sold that also?

The fete, dear one,
is what I MUST speak about.

I cannot permit it
to happen in my garden.

The rag-tag and bobtail of Tilling
passing through my hall,

all my carpets soiled
and my flower beds trampled on,

and how do I know that they will
not steal upstairs

and filch what they can find?

Oh, there'll be no admission to the
rooms in the house -

I'll lock all the doors -

and I'm sure that nobody in Tilling
would be so ill-bred

as to attempt to force them open.

I will not have my little
home sanctuary invaded!

As long as I am tenant here, I will
see whom I please and when I please.

Or do you wish me
to send you a list of the friends

I invite to dinner
for your sanction?

But my dear Lulu...

I must beg you not to call me Lulu,
a detestable abbreviation.

Yes, Grosvenor, what is it?

The ironmonger's here, ma'am,

and he says he will have to
put in some rather large screws...

Whatever is necessary to make
the door safe.

Now, Miss Mapp would like to
look in the cupboards upstairs

and take some of her own
things away.

Please go with her
and give her EVERY facility.

Yes, ma'am.

It's this way, Miss.

I'm aware of that,
Grosvenor, thank you.

Ah!

Ohh, Withers!

Withers!

Miss Elizabeth,
may I offer you some assistance?

No, that's quite all right
Major, I can... I can manage.

Allow me, please.

Everything all right, old girl?

Yes. It's just been a... a trying
morning, that's all.

Well, a lot of lovely
jumble for your sale, what?

Make a pretty penny for the
hospital, I'll be bound.

It's junk, Major.

Broken and sullied items that people
have no earthly use for

but cannot bear to throw away.

Perfect jumble-sale fodder.

Thank you, Tilling.

Well...

I'll leave you to your fairy
business.

Au reservoir.

Could I draw your attention to the
sixpenny tray,

would you might have missed?
It's just in the corner there.

Ahh, from the house of Major Flint.

He could hardly bear to part
with it, poor soul,

but it's such a good cause
and so dear to my own heart.

Elizabeth!

Really!

You never told me you were holding
the jumble sale here, in my house!

Really, dear?

Well, I don't see what
business it is of yours.

As long as I am tenant here, I shall
do what I please WHEN I please.

Or do you wish me
to send you a list of the people

I invite in for your sanction?!

Yes, dear?

Morning, Withers.

That's ninepence
for the hearth brush,

threepence each for
the curtain rings

and this little picture from the
sixpenny tray,

that makes just two shillings.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

The frame alone cost...

Good morning, one and all!

How-de-do? How-de-do?

I'm just on my way to the
hospital

with the takings from yesterday's
sale.

Fundraising for the hospital?
Whatever gave you that idea(?)

Well, one doesn't like to
crow about one's charitable works,

but as I was remarking to
sweet Susan,

one must all do one's bit to help
those less fortunate than ourselves.

Well, I hear it was a grand success.

Yes, not a thing left.

Mmm, some excellent bargains to
be had, we're told.

Works of art going cheap.

Yes, well, one man's jumble is
another man's jewel.

You're looking especially quaint
today, Irene dear,

what's the occasion?

Lucia's fete, Mapp dear,
as you well know.

Goodness me. Is that today?
It had completely slipped my mind.

Well, tell Lulu
I may pop across if I can.

Such a busy day - the hospital and
getting the house ship-shape again -

but I will try and SQUEEZE it in.

No promises, mind.

Au reservoir!

Ooh!

God forgive me for saying this,

~ but that woman tests my faith
sometimes, she really does. ~ Kenneth!

I'm so sorry, Mr Pillson,

he doesn't often drop his Scotch.

You didn't really think
he was Scottish, did you?

With that ridiculous accent?

~ I-I just assumed...
~ He puts it on for effect.

Better to gie it
laldy in the pulpit!

We all have our little
affectations in Tilling, Georgie.

Come on, Sailor...

make me a cocktail
and I'll show you my hornpipe.

Offer I can't refuse.

Right, I'm off.

Will I see you at Mallards
for the party, Miss?

No, Withers, never.

Never, never, never, never.

Here we are, Grosvenor.
Half... half a crown, is it?

That's right, Miss.

It's quite discombobulating
to have to

pay for admittance to
one's own home.

~ It's all for a good cause, Miss.
~ Yes...

Hello. Thank you.

Diva, dear!

A few gooseberries for you...

from your garden,

with my compliments.

Thank you, Elizabeth. Most generous.

Susan, dear!

Admiring my delphiniums?

I must give you some seed.

Thank you, dear.

I was just telling Algernon that
that corner there was made,

may I say, for fuchsias.

Ah, dear, you will have to forgive
me, I can not bear fuchsias.

They always remind me
of over-dressed women.

Such a lovely day for it.

~ How those half crowns must be
rolling in. ~ Indeed.

Just mind the lawn.

So pleased to see you all sitting
on my lawn and enjoying your tea.

Excuse me, Miss, could you...?

Ta. And you are?

Elizabeth Mapp, Miss...

.. and this is my humble abode.

Look at her...

swanning round like she owns the
place.

She does own the place.

You know what I mean.

She wants everyone to think
the fete is her idea.

Not fair.

(Where's Lucia?)

(She should be here to put
Elizabeth in her place.)

Jolly good turnout, what?

Very pleased.

Ought I to say a few words,
do you think?

I feel Tilling would think it very
remiss of me if I didn't.

Well, I, um...

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye!

Ladies and gentlemen, please be
upstanding for our gracious Queen...

Elizabeth!

Excuse me.

My loving people,

we have been persuaded by some
who are careful of our safety

to take heed how we commit
our selves to armed multitudes

for fear of treachery...

But I assure you

I do not desire to live to distrust
my faithful and loving people.

Let tyrants fear...

.. for I have come here at this time,

not for my recreation or disport,
but for my resolve,

in the midst and heat of battle,

to live and die amongst you all...

I know I have the body but of a
weak and feeble woman,

but I have the heart
and stomach of a king!

Spectacular!

And we shall have a famous victory
over those enemies of my God,

of my kingdom and of my people.

The queen is dead -
long live the queen!

MUSIC: Zadoc The Priest
by Handel

Long live the Queen!
Long live the Queen!

~ I used to play with my sisters.
~ Eh? ~ Golf.

~ Wah! ~ Oh!
~ There has been some hanky-panky.

~ Do you wish to have the
body of a younger man? ~ Yes, please.

Ah...

Tiptree, you naughty dog!

~ You... ~ Shall we call it a score
draw, dear?