My babies!
Arthur...
Daddy!
Coming.
Do you like it, daddy?
Very much.
You didn’t look at it properly. - Of course I did.
That's me, that's nanny,
that's mommy, that's you.
Why do I look so sad? - That's what your face looks like.
Oh it is, is it?
I wish you didn’t have to go away from me.
Me too. But we’ll have the whole weekend in the countryside.
See... tomorrow, then thursday,
then we’re back together. Not long at all.
You look just like your mother.
Have you got the train tickets? - Yes, we've got the train tickets.
And you know the times? - Yes, we know the times.
Okay, I've got to go. I don't wanna be late.
Go. We'll be fine. We'll see you friday. - See you.
I take it Tomes has briefed you on Mrs Alice Drablow
of Eel Marsh House. Died. Last month.
Years since I went there, of course.
The old widow didn't greatly care for visitors.
No children?
A boy. Died young.
Many years ago. I'll let you have the details to read on your journey.
But, principally, you're going to go through Mrs Drablow's documents.
Her private papers, whatever they may be,
wherever they may be and to bring them back,
in preparation for a sale. - Very good.
I know you've had it rough, Kipps.
And I'm sympathetic to your situation.
But we can't carry passengers.
We are a law firm, not a charity.
This is your last chance.
Mommy!
Mr Kipps...
It's a boy.
I'm very sorry, Mr Kipps.
Have we passed Crythin Gifford yet?
Next stop.
So, you're from London? - I am.
Trying to sell Eel Marsh House?
You won't find a local buyer.
Are you staying at the Gifford Arms? - Yes.
It's a bit of a walk from the station. I can give you a lift.
It's on my way home. - Thank you.
- Samuel Daily. - Arthur Kipps.
It's a beautiful car, Mr Daily.
First one in the county. Still scares the locals.
Here we are.
Thank you.
Very good to talk to you, Mr Daily.
Mr Kipps!
Would you like to have supper with my wife and me tomorrow evening?
We don't get to see many new faces here.
That'd be lovely. Thank you. - 'Night.
Good evening.
I'm Mr Kipps. I've got a room booked until sunday.
No, I don't find any booking.
- My offices telegraphed ahead. - Well, we're packed to the rafters.
- Good evening. - Good evening.
I was just telling Mr Kipps that we don't have any room.
Oh, we can't have him out in this weather, can we?
Not in the rain. We must have something.
Just for tonight. - We don't.
Unless you want to put him in the attic.
Fine.
It's this way.
Actually I was hoping to stay til the weekend.
My son and his nanny are travelling up to join me.
Oh, I see.
If a holiday’s what you’re after, you’d be better off further inland.
It gets awfully cold here with the sea mists.
Sea mists. Sea mists.
It's this way.
How old is your son? - He's four.
Lovely age.
Thank you.
Good night.
In!
Hello?
Mrs Jerome?
- Mr Kipps? - Yes.
My husband went to meet you at the Gifford Arms.
This is Mr Kipps.
I made it clear to your firm there was no need for you to make the journey.
We could have sent all the relevant documents to London.
In any event, you’ll find all the legal papers in here.
Mr Fisher tells me you're leaving today.
Not until I've taken care of all the Mrs Drablow's paperwork.
It's all in there, as I said.
No, at the house. I'm told there's quite a substantial amount.
I don't expect to be finished until friday at least.
That's not possible.
Gifford Arms is fully booked for the week.
I shall have to contact my office. Do you have a telephone?
Not even Mr Daily has a telephone, sir. You'll not find one in Crythin Gifford.
Fine, I'll send a telegram.
Post office is closed on a Wednesday morning.
The London train leaves in half an hour.
My colleague Keckwick is waiting outside with your luggage.
Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kipps.
Mr Keckwick, change of plans.
I'm not catching the train. You'll take me to Eel Marsh House.
Jerome paid me to take you to the station.
Make it six and I'll think about it. - Six shillings?
You’ll not find anyone else willing to take you there.
There you are.
Can you pick me up at three?
I can't. I need to get back to mainland before the tide comes in,
otherwise I'll be stuck here for the day.
It'll be out again by five. I'll come back for you then.
Five then.
Come on then.
Hello?
Who's there?
Keckwick!
Mommy!
Constable, I'm telling you. I've heard an accident.
No one has used Nine Lives Causeway for years, sir.
Not since the little Drablow boy was drowned in the marshes.
And Eel Marsh House - it’s empty.
It's not, though. I saw a woman there.
I can assure you no one goes there. - Collins!
Excuse me one moment, sir.
Sir, my sister needs help.
What's the matter? What's your name, darling?
- Her name is Victoria Hardy. - Did something bad happen?
She drank some lye. Our mom was out.
Lye? Oh god... Constable!
Is she going to die? - Constable!
It's going to be alright, darling. Just let me...
Constable!
My baby!
Hello? Mrs Fisher?
My baby!
It's getting late. You'll miss your London train.
I can't leave yet.
Please don't go back to Eel Marsh House.
Why?
Mr Kipps. You said you have a son.
Yes.
Go home to him. Cherish him.
Love him.
I wouldn't be here if I didn't.
Oh, Mr Kipps.
Glad you could make it. - My pleasure.
I'm just bidding my son Nicholas goodbye.
- My condolences, Mr Daily. - It was a long while ago.
There's a place ready in there for my wife and me.
So we can all be together.
I heard about the girl in the village. Terrible.
Are you alright? - Yes.
My wife doesn't know,
and I'd be grateful if you could avoid the subject.
Indeed, the subject of children altogether, if at all possible.
He would've been about your age now. - Thank you, Archer.
Ah, there you are, dear.
Mr Kipps, I've been so looking forward to meeting you.
The pleasure is all mine. I'm sorry, I must look a bit of a mess.
I found myself without a room.
Oh, then you must stay with us. Mustn't he, Samuel?
Indeed he must, dear. Now, lets eat.
Arthur... - Thank you.
The twins won't be dining with us tonight, Archer. - Samuel!
I'm sure Mr Kipps won't mind. - Not at all.
Emily!
Thank you.
Now, say hello to Mr Kipps.
Hello.
Thank you, Archer.
There.
Are you married, Mr Kipps? Stop the gobble, that's rude.
Any children? - A son.
Ah, that's lovely. You don't want to end up like us.
Wealthiest folk in the county, and no one to leave it to.
Did he tell you about Nicholas? - Elizabeth!
That's him.
I painted that myself. I love to paint and sketch.
It's lovely.
Nicholas loved to sketch too.
- He still does. - Elizabeth, please...
He wants to draw you a picture.
Elizabeth...
Elizabeth, no!
Elizabeth!
Archer! The medication! - No! No!
Archer! Medication!
I thought some company would do her good.
Please, think nothing of it.
She's convinced it's our son, speaking through her.
You don't believe in this spiritualism stuff, do you?
Seances and contacting the dead.
I didn't.
But since my wife passed away... I don't know.
Ah, forgive me. I didn't...
Sometimes I feel she's still with me.
Sometimes I just...
...feel she's there. In the room.
Trying to reach me.
You must be careful, Arthur. These charlatans, they prey
on those most in need. They're more harm than good.
I think the worst they do is disappoint.
I have to keep looking.
It's not natural to lose someone so young.
But if open the door to superstition, where does that lead?
It's just chasing shadows, Arthur.
Come on. Lay down.
I'll lose my job if I don't get this paperwork done.
If Jerome gives me some help, I can go and meet my boy.
I doubt if Jerome will be of much help to you.
Mr Jerome!
Go away!
- I'm not gonna hurt you. - You killed Victoria Hardy!
Get away from me! Go!
Go!
- What the hell is going on? - Complete nonsense.
Lets take you to the house.
You should've left. You should've gone when we told you to. - John!
His little girl is dead.
He saw her!
Did you see her?
For god sake! Take him home. This isn't helping him.
All your superstitious rubbish.
You think it's superstitious rubbish that took your boy?
Alright.
I'll take him to the station.
Pay no attention to them, Arthur. They're still living in the dark ages.
But I did see someone at the house. I wasn't alone.
Trust me, Arthur, it's just a strange old place cut out from the world.
Sooner the house is sorted out and sold,
sooner people can move on.
Here. This will keep you going.
The late tide is due at eleven. I'll come back for you then.
It's fine. I'd rather just work through the night.
Well, take the dog. Come on, girl!
Just for company.
Don't go chasing shadows, Arthur.
Dear Alice.
You leave me no option but to give up my son.
If I am deemed unfit to raise my child, what can I do?
You and Charles can take him from me, but he is mine.
Mine. He can never be yours.
Jennet.
Dear Alice, I find it hard to express
the depth of betrayal from you, my own sister.
At your refusal to let me visit my son.
Or even give him my birthday cards. I begin to believe
you're not doing this for the good of the boy, but to cause me pain.
He's mine. If you won't let me see him, I will find the way.
His blood is on your hands.
You didn't try to save him. You just saved yourself.
You didn't even give him a proper burial.
You just left him there in the mud.
My world is destroyed. My life is over.
Rot in hell.
Who's there?
You don't believe me, do you?
I believe even the most rational mind can play tricks in the dark.
I saw them, Sam.
I saw her and her boy.
The boy was lost to the marsh. His body was never recovered.
I saw them.
Lucy!
Arthur!
- Arthur! - No!
Stay there! I'm gonna come and get you.
No!
Arthur?
Here.
I remember when the Jeromes lost their first child.
They decided to have another.
Lucy.
They locked her up to protect her.
Not that you can ever replace... - She was there, Sam.
You're tired. Get some rest.
What happened to him, Mrs Daily?
He was playing at the beach with his friends.
They said the tide must've caught them off guard.
You've seen her, haven't you?
She was there this morning in the fire.
She's always there.
You mustn't blame yourself.
- Blame myself for what? - For not listening to the others.
For not staying away from the house.
I don't understand.
Whenever she's been seen,
on the Causeway, on the marsh, in the grounds of the house,
however briefly and whoever by,
there has always been one sure and certain result.
Yes?
In some violent or dreadful circumstance,
a child has died.
So many children... So many children.
The Fishers' daughters and...
Jerome's eldest, Keckwick's son...
my Nicholas... - How?
Mrs Daily?
She makes us! She makes us do it.
She makes us... she can't find him,
so she takes us.
She saw you.
She's coming! She's coming!
Sam!
Elizabeth! No!
No, daddy! No!
Elizabeth...
Joseph!
If we can get the telegram off now, it will catch them before they leave.
How could you take me to Eel Marsh if even a small part of you
feared the stories were true? - But I never believed.
You didn't want to. There's a difference.
I'd no choice, Arthur. Either Nicholas is in a better place, or he's lost.
Forgive me, Sam, but my son is alive.
He's on his way here.
The next village is over an hour away.
They'd left by then.
What time is the tide back out?
Five. Why?
If we can reunite Jennet Humfrye with her son,
perhaps she’ll finally be at peace.
They never recovered the child's body, Arthur.
But you have something they never had.
Arthur?
Sam, I feel it!
It's just beneath my feet!
Need the rope more taut. - Be careful!
Arthur?
Oh my god!
Keep driving!
- Don't stop! - The pedal's on the floor!
The engine is overheating! I don't think it can take any more weight!
I found the boy!
Can you go any further?
Stop. There he is!
Lets just put him in the ground, Arthur.
Lets get it over with.
Sam...
There's something I need to do first.
They're lost.
They need to find each other.
Nearly time now.
Come on.
Nicholas?
Daddy?
Arthur!
No! You're not my mother!
Arthur!
I think she's gone.
I'll never forgive you for letting my boy die.
Never forgive.
Never forgive!
One step, two steps. Good boy.
- Joseph! - Daddy!
What do you say to daddy?
- I love you, daddy. - I love you too.
Joseph, this is my friend Sam. - Hello, Sam.
Hello, Joseph. It's very nice to meet you.
Change of plans. We're not staying here tonight.
We're going straight back to London.
Can you fetch us some tickets? I'll explain on the way.
Are you sure you don't want to stay with us tonight?
- Yes. I just want to get him home. - I understand.
Three tickets back to London, please.
Will you and Elizabeth be alright? - We will.
You must come to London and visit us.
Arthur!
Sam?
Daddy, who's that lady?
That's your mommy.