I didn't know you owned a cottage.
Why did you two never live there?
I visited once, but I never cared for it.
Anyway, it was your grandfather's.
It was really all very basic.
Goodnight.
Goodnight, dear.
My dear Flora, your photograph
is getting pretty battered with
all the travelling around in my breast pocket.
I can't tell you where we are
or much of what we're doing, of course.
Much of the countryside is so beautiful
that I have to remind the men that
we're not here on holiday.
But then, merry hell breaks out again.
I'll spare you the details.
Aim at the olive groves,
until the others get through to relieve us.
Yes sir!
Bastards got the supply lorry
before it could get through the gates, sir!
It's the driver, sir - another dead one and they shot out the tyres.
Everybody out with the others, quickly!
We need the MO!
I think this one's still with us, sir! - The MO's dead.
Put him with the rest.
Quickly!
Not another!
He was in the back with the supplies!
Christ.
Set him down gently.
I need you back at the gatehouse.
We can't have the others ambushed, do you understand?
Sir!
Don't just sit there, help him!
Sugar.
Our lives full of bloody sugar.
March.
Thomas March!
March, stay with me.
Stay with me!
March!
Captain.
You were lucky.
Your lot saved my life.
This...
This was your lifesaver.
I need to get your sketch pads
back from our CO; he's not exactly artistic.
Berryman!
Was I a beast to you at school?
Berryman!
Actually you were always very kind.
What a relief.
Berryman, a word.
Yes, sir.
- Almost! Left, left! Oi! - Watch it, watch it!
Come on, come on, get stuck in!
♪ I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart
Who are you writing to?
Oh, a girl back home, Flora.
She's a teacher.
Oh.
I've known her all my life.
She's almost like a sister.
Not entirely.
She lost her parents in an air raid.
Just like me.
Almost there... Goal!
Listen up, men.
This is Captain March.
He's an official war artist.
Now you're not to mind him drawing you.
His work is good for morale.
Sir.
Sir, is it true that the Hun lay on tarts for their soldiers?
Yeah, how come they get tarts and we get artists?
It's the morale back home that art can raise.
It's for your wives and girlfriends, your children.
Don't let them cheek you..
Sir?
Go on, sir.
Paint me.
Put it away, Bates.
But he's raising my morale, sir.
Bates will drive you to rendezvous point
and then you'll be driven back down to work from there.
How far to the Handover?
An hour at least.
Depending on the state of the road.
Well in that case, nature calls.
Are we likely to come under fire?
Hopefully not.
Save fuel, men. As you were, please.
The area should have been cleared.
It's bloody embarrassing, but I can't...
button my fly single handed.
Promise me that you'll come and find me?
I mean it.
Captain.
Captain Berryman!
You ought to be off, sir.
Rendezvous time's not that long away.
Of course Bates, good man.
Thank you, Bates.
Good luck.
What's so amusing, Travis?
Patroclus, miss.
Patroclus and Achilles, I don't understand.
Your closest friend is butchered in a battle
in which he wore your armour
because you disdained to fight.
You lament.
Perfectly understandable.
But they're not just friends are they?
Greek for friendship? Wickham?
Agape, miss.
Love between heroes was regarded
as surpassing the love between marriage,
but, in Sparta's...
Class rise.
Miss Talbot, boys.
We have just heard that Mr Churchill
has accepted Germany's surrender.
The war in Europe is at an end.
You may cheer, boys.
No more bloody war!
Hello.
Are you lost?
I was looking for Captain March.
Perhaps I have his address wrong.
No, no, he has the studio upstairs.
We share an entrance.
Oh.
I don't bite, unless you pay extra.
I'm Lucian: landlord, watchdog,
purveyor of shade to the gentry.
Who are you?
My name is Berryman, Michael Berryman.
Enter, Michael Berryman.
You came.
We were only demobbed from Colchester this morning.
If it's not convenient...
Don't be silly. Its...
Er...
So what are your plans?
For the rest of the evening?
Bugger all.
Good.
What about...
Sorry, I've forgotten her name.
Flora.
Flora Talbot.
She doesn't know I'm back yet.
Left here.
Left!
I haven't been here since my parents died.
I should've written.
I'm a coward.
I wrote to you in my head every bloody day but I...
I wrote to you.
Really?
Nothing ever got through.
I never said I posted them.
Tea!
Very old tea.
Fuck, the floor is cold.
I also found...
an unopened tin of shortbread.
It must be pre-war.
Good morning March.
Captain.
Thank you so much.
You haven't mentioned her all week.
It's scarcely appropriate.
Do you love her?
I...
You'll love her too.
How cosy.
Please, Thomas.
I don't understand how you can be
so matter of fact.
Does she love you?
I imagine so or she wouldn't have
agreed to marry me.
Please say yes, Thomas.
Say you'll be there at least please.
I have no family.
I don't want to be your bloody family.
I...
Please.
You have no idea have you?
What about, Thomas?
You surely didn't think that we could
set up house together like man and wife.
Please.
Just be quiet.
Let's just go back to London.
Nearly there.
I'm so glad you wore Mummy's brooch.
Bloody hell.
You are not to cry.
Oh, there he is.
Thomas!
Hello.
You must be...
Daphne, older sister.
Matron of honour and all that.
Thomas March, how do you do?
Michael says you're an artist. How very romantic.
Hardly.
Flora, how do you do?
Hello, Thomas.
You look wonderful.
Worth the wait.
Thank you.
Sorry that I couldn't come to your supper party.
I'm horribly unsociable when I'm working.
Talking of which.
I brought you something, a wedding present.
That's so sweet.
We should probably...
Yes.
Michael. - Yes.
You came.
Of course I came.
Fucking best man has to.
If any man or woman knows just cause
or impediment why these two should not be joined together
let him now speak or else hereafter
forever hold his peace.
Do you, Michael Sadler Berryman,
take Flora Agnes Talbot to be
your wedded wife?
I do.
It seems wrong having no one in tears.
I don't think we...
Compliments of Mr March, sir.
Thomas, you shouldn't have.
You can't get married and not have bubbles.
Thank you.
So,
the bride and groom.
Bless you, Thomas.
Please, no speeches anyone, or I shall cry.
You're really not having a honeymoon?
We haven't a bean until Michael's
salary from the bank comes through.
We used pretty much all of our savings
on a deposit for the flat.
So not even a weekend in your cottage?
Oh...
Oh, dear.
Not until it has a boiler, a new bathroom,
and no mice.
The flat is darling though, right on the park.
You must come for supper.
Yes, you must.
Apparently, Thomas's pad in Soho
was unreconstructed Hogarth.
How marvellous.
Not really.
So, won't you miss your teaching?
Hardly.
All those dirty-minded little boys.
Ahh, food.
Daphne could eat a horse.
Naughty.
Thanks so much Thomas, for everything.
You, er...
You've been brilliant.
Haven't I?
Thomas I...
Thomas I, er...
I really...
What?
What, what do you really?
I just...
Just give us a bloody minute will you?!
Of course.
You don't have to go through with this.
Of course I do.
If you have either sense or decency,
you'll do the same.
Well, I'll go and settle up.
You're perfection.
I feel a bit of a fraud.
Oh, darling.
You'll be fine.
You'll see.
I bet he's a real goer.
But sensitive with it.
It's...
What?
Tell me.
It's a lot nicer if he lets you ride up top.
I'm told it gets better.
Yes.
I heard that too.
Mrs Berryman.
Actually, do you mind just...
Oh, of course, sorry.
Now if I snore,
you're to throw a book at me.
Goodnight.
Back to work, Berryman.
So who else should we invite?
If we simply have Daphne and this new chap of hers.
Poor man will feel he's being auditioned.
Well isn't he?
She rather implied she'd already auditioned him
and he'd passed with flying colours.
Sorry, what was that?
I was miles away.
I said who else should we invite?
Well I ran into Richard Tremayne
at Blackfriars the other day.
You know, from the regiment.
We could have him and his wife.
What about poor Thomas?
We haven't seen him since the wedding.
Daphne thought he was a bit of all right
and he has all sorts of eager spinsters lined up for him.
No, I don't think so.
Why ever not?
Well he's not terribly sociable really.
He'd only be a dead weight.
And you can tell Daphne he's a confirmed bachelor.
She'd only take that as a personal challenge.
Daphne.
Thank God, I'm starving.
Me too.
Oh, of course you are!
My darling, how many weeks to go?
Two or three.
Ooh.
Let's find you a nice bench.
Such a drama this morning.
Phil Gladstone.
Which is he?
Victorian watercolours and china.
Lives with his mother.
He was arrested first thing this morning.
No, why?
It turns out he was also living
with the man upstairs.
One of their neighbours had sneaked
and the police showed up at dawn
and caught them together, in bed.
Will he go to prison?
Almost certainly.
And Bill has a prior history of gross indecency.
Which isn't as bad as buggery
but it's almost as bad.
No more handling Lady Downing's bristols for him.
Gross indecency; you mean... exposing himself?
No, you know.
Public lavatories.
Oh.
Now darling, tell. You sounded all shaky when you rang.
I was quite worried.
It was nothing.
Hormones running riot, probably.
Making me feel like a caged beast.
It is good to see you.
You know you can tell me.
You can tell me anything.
I know.
But, it's nothing.
Everything's fine.
Well, this is nice.
I'm sorry.
Darling, I was miles away.
And you've gone to so much trouble
and in your condition.
Time on my hands.
I tidied your desk this morning.
Why?
I needed some ink and it was full of junk in there.
Hope I didn't throw out anything precious.
Well, I'm a hoarder. You'll reform me yet.
Where's Thomas's painting?
I took it down, I rather hate it.
Well perhaps I could take it to
the cottage so you...
Your precious cottage, you'd love that wouldn't you?
Pudding's only pears, I'm afraid.
Oh, God.
Take this fucking thing.
What should I...
I don't want it under our roof another night,
it's repellent.
Yes.
I mean, what are you?
Are you safe around children?
What were you thinking marrying me?!
Do you even love me?!
If I'm expected to lie around bringing forth
like some brood mare, while the two of you...
Ah..!
Darling, darling, sit down.
Don't touch me!
Never touch me!
You're disgusting!
Criminal!
Mr Berryman.
Oh, thank God.
It's this way.
You came just in time.
Go and have a drink, Mr Berryman.
It'll be hours yet.
And it's all woman's work from here on in.
Ooh..! So sorry.
Let me put those in water.
Thank you.
There's not much on offer this time of year,
even in Covent Garden.
You went all that way?
They're lovely, I like white roses.
He's sweet.
A bit soon to tell.
Eager feeder, though... but it hurts like hell.
I thought maybe Robert, after your father.
And James for mine.
Darling, I'm so...
I am far, far too tired to talk about it.
Would you like to hold him?
He's asleep.
Perhaps we should just leave him.
No, pick him up, please.
I want the father of my child - I really...
to hold his son.
Hold his head.
So you like it?
What?
The name.
Robert James.
Yes, yes, it's perfect, perfect.
Did you light a cigar?
Certainly not.
It took me several weeks to track you down.
How?
Your boss and I go back a long long way.
But he's...
He's married with children.
There's a lot of it about.
Thomas is in prison.
Why?
The usual.
Cottaging.
Oh Christ, he really can pick 'em.
Gross indecency, dear.
One year.
You must visit him.
But...
No buts - he needs you.
What lies you tell are up to you.
Though I'm told dentistry usually works.
Why me?
Because you could fuck, understand him,
and meet the mother.
You got under his skin.
He loves you.
Truly.
Right, let's be havin' yer.
I brought your pad and some charcoal.
You look terrible, Thomas.
It's prison food.
Permanent trots.
You look like a bank manager.
How's...
Flora?
Yes, well, fine, fine.
Though motherhood seems to make her a little impatient.
She...
Baby boy arrived in November; Robert.
Just make sure that she doesn't...
...that she doesn't turn him into a banker, too.
I, um...
We'd uh...
We'd like to ask you to be his godfather.
Once you get out.
What on earth for?
Well, whatever you think of church or children,
it's rather a good way to stay in touch
with the people who matter.
Don't visit again.
- But, er... - It's upsetting.
Oh.
Do something for me.
I was at school with Thomas, Mrs March.
I know who you are, Mr Berryman.
How is he?
He, er...
He's, um, he's grown a beard.
Hmm.
His father did that once, for Ibsen.
Does it suit him?
Yes.
Yes...
He looks like a submariner.
It's oddly like having him back in boarding school.
I was forbidden to visit there, too,
in case I embarrassed him.
Oh, you needn't look at me with such sensitivity.
I'm well aware of what he did and why he's there.
I've been storing them in his absence...
rather than leave them with that creature in Soho.
I write him letters in soft pencil
on one side of cartridge paper
so he can draw on the other.
Well, you should take this one.
It's only a study.
He must've sold the finished portrait.
I call it Man In An Orange Shirt.
But it's you, isn't it?
Yes.
So, you must take it.
No, no, I couldn't possibly.
I think it's wonderful, the colours.
But, our... our flat is so tiny.
Perhaps, um...
perhaps just one of the notebooks.
Oh, well, that one's damaged.
Yes, but, er...
I was there, you see.
I have a very small house in France, Mr Berryman.
In a very small village in Cassis.
You can go there when Thomas comes out.
He can paint and you, you can...
you can write something.
That's very kind of you, Mrs March, but, erm...
he wants nothing more to do with me.
Oh, that's just pride.
And I have a wife and child.
Is she happy?
She's...
I should be getting home.
My darling Thomas, you refuse my visits so
you're probably tearing up my letters, too.
But there's nothing else I can do but keep trying.
It's beyond my control, do you see?
All those months ago when I had nothing to lose really,
I wrote to you in my head,
but was too cowardly to set more than lies on paper.
And now I find I no longer care.
The love I feel for you
runs through me like grain through wood.
I love you Thomas, I love you.
Your face, your voice, your touch
enter my mind at the least opportune moments
and I find I have no power to withstand them.
No desire to.
I want us to be together as we were in the cottage.
Only forever, not just a weekend.
I want it to go on so long
that it feels normal.
I want to do all the ordinary unbedroomy things
we never got around to doing.
Making toast, raking leaves,
sitting in silence.
I love you, Thomas.
I've always loved you.
I see that now.
Tell me I'm not too late.
There she is.
Want to say hello. - Oh, look.
So solemn.
So like his pa.
I can't believe he's nearly one already.
I say, not to worry about bridge tonight
if Michael's away.
Patrick can always take me out somewhere instead.
Oh, tonight?
But he's...
I was coming out of South Ken on my way
to Christie's this morning and I saw him
striding towards the train with his suitcase
as well as the usual briefcase.
Oh, yes.
I'm such a dolt, darling.
I completely forgot to tell you,
he's got some dreary conference to go to.
Banking, weather, you know the sort of thing.
Well, we can play when he's back.
Are you all right?
Fine.
Oh, do hush, Robert.
Oh, hush!
For pity's sake!
Hello, can you put me through to Michael Berryman, please?
Who's calling?
It's his wife.
Oh, of course, his wretched teeth.
How stupid of me to have forgotten.
Oh, stop it!
I can't bear it!
Stop it!
Sorry.
I'm so sorry.
Thomas..!
Thomas, boy!
How are you?
Thomas! Oh.
The key's in the cab, come on.
Hello.
I'll tell you anything you'd...
I'd rather you didn't.
I don't want a divorce.
Please, Michael.
It wouldn't be fair to Robert.
But I don't want to make you wretched.
I never want details.
You must never get caught.
We will never speak of it.
Darling I...
Please, don't you love me at all?
Of course I do.
I'm just the sister
who happened to bear your child.
I can live with that.
Lovely morning, sir.
Is all well?
He wants to make an entrance.
Ready?
We can't wait.
Stop laughing at me!
Oh dear.
Fortnum's will cheer him up.
I just need to find the gents.
We'll meet you down by the lifts.
Robert, can I help?
Sorry, sorry.
Who's joining me on a bus to Fortnum's?
Me!
May I come too?
Don't be silly.
Michael, Flora.
Thomas.
How are you?
Fine, fine.
Stunning day.
We've just been kitting someone out for boarding school.
So I'm bracing myself for a long afternoon
sewing in name tapes.
He can't be that age already.
We haven't met Robert, I'm Thomas March.
I knew your father when he wasn't
much older than you are.
Yes, yes, before I became respectable.
So Thomas, you've been too long a stranger
we must have you over.
Yes, we must.
I've not longed moved, to Cassis.
To your mother's place?
Yes, that's right.
I'm just over for my new exhibition.
It opens tonight.
Oh, bother.
Well, you could go along, darling.
Well, no, it's Robert's last night of freedom.
I can't let you start school without a present, hmm?
Here.
Thomas, you shouldn't...
What do you say, Robert?
Thank you, sir.
Oh, that's our bus.
Come along, Robert.
Bye bye, Thomas.
Goodbye, old man.
I'll bag seats!
We're not going that far.
Oh, let him, this once.
School's not that much fun.
Two and a child to Piccadilly please.
Two and a child to Piccadilly.
There you go, sir.
Thank you.
Any more fares?
He'll drink himself to death in the sunshine.
Probably.
Is that where you were going?
Yes.
Look, they're really good ones.
Goodness.
Well, put them safely away until we get home
or you'll get all mucky.
Don't fidget, Bob.
To Flora and Michael, in the hope that
the enclosed might one day hang in your drawing room.
Thomas.
Who did you go with?
A friend.
He loved me,
but he married me to be like everybody else.
This is so not okay.
You're leaving a table of friends
just to fuck a complete stranger.
You're not even out, are you?
I bet you've still not told your granny.