01x08 - Episode 8

[bunniefuu]

Good to be home?

Always.

Happy birthday, Mrs Harte.

Martha! Hello.

My, you always do your hair
so beautifully!

Jerry! God! The drama!

What is this?
Just a friendly lunch?

Or are we basically
birthday hostages?

Bloody clever of her.

Is she going to have us all shot?

In my experience, my lady,

your mother always does
what needs to be done.

That's not particularly
reassuring, Jerry.

I mean, I... Oh.

Oh!

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, dear Mother

Happy birthday to you!

That's touching.

Now, are all the traitors present?

Good.

So, let's get started, shall we?

TRAIN WHISTLE

At ease.

May I?

Mac, isn't it?

You used to work
at Fairley Hall.

That's right.

I'm Edwin Fair... I know...

who you are.

Would I have seen you
at the front? At Festubert?

Eight months of senseless
fighting. But that one was...

...a grim night.

So, off home, then?

Officially, it's medical discharge.

But not all wounds can be bandaged.

You? Leave.

To see my pregnant wife.

Congratulations. And also...

...Emma Harte,

who I expect you remember.

You're going to see Emma?

That's right.

She's plenty of space for visitors
in her big house.

And you will...

...see Emma's family...
while you're there?

For your information,

Emma's husband, Joe Lowther...

...he didn't make it.

I'm...

sorry to hear that.

Emma doesn't need your sympathies.

She's managed just fine
without anything from you.

Well...

Good luck to you.

It was a grim night.

At Festubert.

A grim night.

Is all... well?

Two of everything.

They just thought
I needed to come home.

Mm. Well...

...here you are.

My God! Edwin!

Oh!

Father looks dreadful.

At least he's out of bed today.

Is there a problem?

It's money.
Money's the problem.

He owes left, right and centre.

The house is up for sale.

What? Why?

He won a huge uniform contract
from some old school friend.

But he over-promised.

Emma Harte has our mill,
and he's run out of favours,

so there's absolutely no way
he can fulfil the order.

But it'll be better
now you're back.

Why?

Well... Because now all this
will be down to you.

Anyway, look,
you didn't come here to see me.

Priya!

No, please... don't.

Aunt Olivia,

I've been thinking that...

...for both our sakes,
mine and Priya's...

...I ought to just set her free.

I'll be closing up for good

if I don't go heavier
on people not paying bills.

I'll have to start sending
telegrams to those that owe us.

And if they can't, I'll have
to start charging interest.

No choice. I need to...

Oh!

You're here!

So, a baby.

Never had one of those
before, have you?

Our mill isn't the only thing
Emma Harte has

that belongs to you. Hmm?

Who does she think she is?
Huh?

So...

How was it?

France.

Much camaraderie, is there,

huh, between you and the lads?

Hmm?

I've... sung a song or two.

Oh? Hmm.

So why did they send you home?

Because it's not all singing.

It's made me think
about what we leave behind.

I'd like the people
that come after us...

...our children, grandchildren...

...to at least know we were here.

I suppose...

...the main thing we'll leave,
all of us, is...

...our name.

And this house.

Oh, yes.

Not if Father
can't hang on to it, we won't.

Emma Harte
has a lot to answer for.

What if Emma Harte isn't just
the cause of our problems?

What if she's the solution?

I think I've got the answer.

You know...

I saw him once.

Joe.

In France?

I came round a corner one night
and there he was.

Helmet pushed back...

...r*fle on his knee,

with a photo of you... in his hand.

Are you just saying that?

No. It was Joe.

He'd hauled himself up
on a box of corned beef.

No time to eat it, he said,

but he could at least
keep his arse dry on it.

And then...

...everything...
started up again...

...the sh**ting, and...

...I lost track of him.

Can I tell you something?

Anything.

When I got the telegram,

we were in the hall
and I saw Laura's face.

And I knew.

I just knew that it was bad news.

And I thought...

BREATHES SHARPLY

It's OK. I know.

You miss him. I know.

No, you don't.

You don't know.

Let me say it.

I knew that it was bad news.

And I thought...

...that it was you.

I did.

And I couldn't breathe, Mac.

But then she showed it to me.

And I saw that it was addressed
to me and not her...

...and that inside it said his name.

Joe Lowther.

And I was relieved.

Is that the worst thing
you ever heard?

Poor Joe...

I was desperate, of course.
I couldn't bear that it was him.

But my first thought
when I saw his name was...

..."Oh, thank God.

"Thank God it's not Mac."

I understand.

I do.

Because we're the same...

...aren't we?

So... I'll always understand.

Corned beef?

I have an assistant today,
Mrs Grisham. Aren't I lucky?

And look, we've packs here
for fruitcake,

which you can make with barely
any fat and not one egg.

I'm calling it w*r Cake.

Oh, my girls will eat cake
all day long if you'd let 'em.

No eggs, you say?
How much butter?

I can't see how it'd bind...

Mrs Harte?

Mrs Harte?

I...I have to close up
for a while, Mrs Grisham.

Take one of the packs
of cake ingredient

and let me know
what Jean and Barbara think.

Well, thank you.

Bye-bye, Edwina.
Have fun helping your mam.

Bye-bye.

Hello.

Hello.

Edwina?

Edwina, why don't you go
upstairs, love,

sort through that box of buttons,
see which you like best?

I'm allowed?

Course. Go on up. Go on.

Well, I've broken an oath, then.

I swore I'd never see you again
for as long as I lived.

We all make promises
we can't keep.

Shop's usually busier than this.

But there's a w*r on, I don't know
if you've heard. I did.

I'm so sorry, Emma.

I heard about your husband.

Did you hear about all the
husbands? It's not just mine.

Well, you'll have seen
for yourself.

Emma...

All this, it's...

...a miracle.

Everything you wanted.

Your plan, with a capital P.

That's right. I'm a success.

And what are you, Edwin Fairley?

A fool.

An idiot, coward.
Does that cover it?

Hardly.

Emma...

Every bit of hatred
you feel for me...

all the resentment,
the bitterness, the anger...

...I felt it for myself,
I promise you, every day.

And not a moment's passed

where I haven't wished
I could go back...

...to that rose garden...

...and say something different.

Like what?

Like, "Marry me."

Like, "It'll be all right."
Like, "I'll take care of you,

"I'll make sure
nobody hurts you."

Like, "I love you, Emma.

"I will spend the rest of my life
making sure I'm by your side."

Well, I'd have probably
had the baby

by the time
you got all of that out.

Emma, please, I'm...

I'm not here to fight.

There's been enough of that.

When I let you down that day,
I started a feud

which should never have gone
as far as it has.

So I've come here today to end it.

I hear you have a warehouse
full of cloth

and no use for it.

That's right. It was meant
to fulfil the contract

that your father stole from me.

Well...

...what we have,
what the Fairleys have,

is that contract, but...

...no cloth...

...or mill.

Emma, you're a businesswoman now.

A partnership.

Our contract, your mills.

Fairleys and Hartes.

Together, we can make
that contract work.

For every uniform we produce,
you'll get a pound

and so will we.

Emma, I don't know
how your business

is faring through all of this,
but ours is barely afloat.

But if we join forces,

then both of us can...

...take care of our families.

Doesn't a pact make sense?

Come to lunch,

will you, please?

On Saturday. As our honoured guest.

No pressure,
but we can talk it all through.

Emma...

w*r... It's miserable.

Imagine how it'd feel if we...

could lay down our weapons.

Just...

...end it.

A ceasefire.

Truce.

What do you say?

Well, how did it go?

She bought it.

This deal could be the answer, Mac.

If I can get a pound a uniform,
I won't have to close anything.

I can pay the wages,
not lay anyone off.

There will be no profit,

but it might just get us
through to the end of the w*r.

Sure. I'd bet on you
above old Asquith

any day of the week.

But a partnership
with the Fairleys?

I would have spat if someone
suggested it before now.

Can you trust them?
Never before.

Never.

But for the children...

shouldn't I be fighting
on a different front, Mac?

FOOTSTEPS
Mummy, Mummy!

Ah! Is that us at the shop?
Yeah.

Come here.

Isn't it beautiful?

I love it so much.

KNOCKING

I was wondering
if I could come in.

Standards slipped?

Oh, no, I'm sure they haven't.

I came because I'm coming here
on Saturday for lunch.

I heard.

And when I do, I'll be coming
in through the front door.

Well, I'll be sure to be
careful with your coat.

But I was imagining how it's
going to feel sitting up there.

And I know I'll just be desperate
to see it all down here...

...to remember.

So I came here today,
in any case, to talk to Ed...

Master Edwin, work out
possible terms and so on.

And I wanted
to come round this way,

so nobody thinks
I've any airs or graces.

And why not, Emma Harte?

Hmm?

I'd say you've earned
a few airs from what I hear.

And you'd be justified
the odd grace or two and all,

the rise you've had.

Made something of yourself,
haven't you?

Well done, lass.

Well done.

And... I didn't know your dad
well. Er...

I keep myself to myself.

But I reckon Jack Harte would
have been pleased as punch.

Thank you.

Well, I'd better go and...

They think we're wallpaper,
of course.

Walking those rooms
up there in silence.

They forget that staff are people...

...and people have ears.

This partnership is...

is not what you think.

Master Edwin has got you
right where he wants you.

You know I'm leaving you.

What? Why?

You lied to me about Adele.

It was not my fault.

I am not responsible
for my sister's death.

And I have to be able to grieve.

I have to get away from here.
Away from you.

Don't be ridiculous, Olivia.
Where will you go?

I'll stay until the alliance
is signed, for the boys' sake.

But when your contract
and your house

are no longer at risk,
when the w*r is over...

...I will be looking for peace.

You think you're going somewhere
for a bit of peace and quiet...

Frank!

What are you doing here?

I'm up here every week.

You're not the only one
that misses her.

How's school?
Have you got your final exams?

Yeah, well, I expect

they're going to make me
into a professor or something,

or a lord, probably.

Is that what happens
when you get top marks?

King, I think, isn't it?

HE LAUGHS
Yeah, something like that.

So, what are you doing
up here, then? Panicking?

No.

I'm just wondering what to do,
is all.

Oh, no.

What? I knew this would happen.

You've got money now.
You can spend time thinking.

Rich folk,
they love to just sit around

watching the sky, wondering.

That's not who we are.
Get on with it!

Don't waste time thinking,
"Oh, what if I do this?

"What if I spend this on a
golden fountain?" or whatever.

All you've done
is lost precious minutes

while you could have
been trusting your gut.

Isn't that what Mam would've said?

A golden fountain?

Well, that's what
rich people have, isn't it?

What have you got instead?

Massive warehouse full of cloth.

That's your golden fountain.

Frank, will you be all right?

What? Always. I've just climbed
up a hill on my own.

LAUGHS
Are you trusting your gut?

Follow your gut. Yeah? Yeah.

Go on, Emma!

Whoo!

Well, lunch is served.

And I'm quite sure it's delicious.

But I have something
I'd like to say.

Edwin, you made me a proposition.

That's right. A partnership.

We fulfil the uniform contracts
together.

Well, that all sounds very sensible.

As a team, is that right?

Proceeds split down the middle?
Absolutely.

For every uniform,
a pound for you...

And a pound for you.

Yes.

That's what you said.

Only, Edwin, that's not
what you're planning, is it?

Well... I believe your actual plan

is a pound for me and five pounds
for you for every uniform.

Isn't that right?

Sell them off for over the odds,
give me the bare minimum,

and cream off the majority
of the profit for yourself.

That's what you're planning,
Edwin, isn't it?

Tell me the truth!

I...

had to do something.

You're planning
to suffocate my business.

Oh, and you forgot to mention
you have a baby on the way,

so I expect that explains all
the plotting, doesn't it, Edwin?

Because I know you're not the type

to ever leave a child of yours
out in the cold.

What does she mean?

Edwin? Emma...

I'm still talking!

I went to see Lord Acton today,
Mr Fairley. Your chum.

I told him that you Fairleys
were playing him for a fool.

What the hell is happening?
What are you saying?

It's not just me and your old
schoolmate you're short-changing.

You won't be paying
your workers a living wage,

and you'll be doing
our soldiers dirty too,

because the uniforms you make
will be low quality.

Are we really allowing her
to speak to us in this way?

I will be coming to you,
Gerald Fairley!

I told Lord Acton

that you Fairleys aren't
getting a scrap of cloth from me,

and if he thinks
there's the slightest chance

that this w*r will go
on into 1916,

then there's only one person
who's got the mills,

the factory, the materials

and the g*ng of skilled
working women

to fulfil his contract
for years to come.

So he gave me the money up front.

How dare you?

What makes you think
one little worthless maid

can come after generations...

What, rich, entitled men?

She's doing this
to get back at Edwin

because he didn't want her.

You think I've gone through
all of this

for someone as unimportant
to me as Edwin Fairley?!

It's not just him I'm coming
for. It's all of you.

Squire Fairley,

the way you treat your staff
is a disgrace.

But it's nothing to the way
you treated my mother.

My mother died
when she needn't have,

and you stood by and did nothing.

Despite everything that went
on between the two of you,

she thought of you
till her dying breath,

and you thought of her never.

And you let my father down, too.

My father died in your mill
through your mismanagement,

and what's worse, he died
saving your coward of a son!

Would you have done
the same for him, Edwin? Hm?

Mrs Fairley, I understand
that's your name now.

You stole my dress designs,

and you sold them without
giving me a moment's credit.

Emma, I have always tried
to be...

You might have spared me
a kind word now and then,

but kind words do not put
food on the table!

And finally, Squire Fairley,
we come to your other son...

...who's not just a coward,

he's a dangerous monster.

A weasel of a man who preys on women
in a vain attempt to feel strong

in the face of his own
overwhelming weaknesses!

Why?

Why are you doing this?

For my mother.

For my father.

For everyone who's ever worked
in your house or your mill.

Oh, I'd not be so grand as to claim
I'm representing all working folk

but, by God,
I will speak up for them!

While every one of you
stands by idle and watches

as the world around you slides
into being more and more broken!

Oh, and I haven't told you
the best bit.

I haven't told you
what I spent the money on

that Lord Acton gave me up front.

Hello, Fairleys.
Fancy seeing you here.

Thank you.

I've bought this house.

What do you mean?

I mean I'm the new owner
of Fairley Hall,

so take this as your
eviction notice.

Edwin Fairley,

I was all set to lower myself
to be your partner today.

It's the second time
that's nearly happened.

But five years ago, you let me down,

and today you planned to take me
down and leave me there.

I will never forgive you.

Please, all of you loyal staff,

take this lunch home
to your families.

And all of you Fairleys...

...get out of my house.

There was a fatal flaw
in your scheme, of course.

You underestimated me.

I've had times of
great adversity in my life,

and I believe many of you think
I mention them rather too much.

I didn't say that. I only...

But nothing
I have ever experienced

prepared me for the ungrateful
betrayal of my own children.

Mother, I've been just
desperate to talk to you,

to explain. Yet my phone
hasn't rung, Elizabeth.

Now, Edwina,

Kit,

Robin, Elizabeth.

The four of you schemed
together to discredit me.

I might have had
a grudging respect for you

had you been more subtle
or creative.

But today, I'd like to thank you,

because your treachery
has made me see

that something does need to change.

You don't trust me,

and that has hit home.

So...

I've changed my will

so that when I die, none
of you will receive a penny.

Oh, Mother! What does "not a penny"
even mean?

Now, today, I'd like
to offer you all a choice.

Either you fight on

and continue to feed those hateful
lies about me to the press...

Or what?
Or you take these.

There's a cheque each
for £1 million.

A drop in the bucket to what you
would have received, of course.

And for God's sake,
don't mistake them for gifts.

I am buying you.

All of you.

If you accept these cheques,

you are agreeing to drop
the whole ghastly plot

and never contest
any of my wishes.

Mother, what are you doing?

Grandy, what's going on?

Now, there's been much
discussion over the years

as to which of my children
might take over my businesses.

My signature on
this piece of paper here

means that debate can stop.

Because now, all of it,

every inch...

belongs to Paula.

No, no. Grandy, I...

Oh, we've had our disagreements,
of course, darling.

The odd... distraction.

But you've moved on.

You've always put
the business first.

Paula, you're the one
I've trained.

You're the one I trust.

And you've proven
time and time again

to be the worthy successor.

And now it's done.

Now, here are your contracts.

So, the four of you,

come and sign them
and take your cheques.

Or leave with nothing.

SHE MOUTHS

Paula? You've chosen Paula?

She shall get the lot,
and I shall get nothing?

Nothing but the allowances
from my ex-husbands?

Well, how fortunate
you have six of them.

I barely even spoke
to any journalists.

I was hardly at the lunch.
I don't even eat lunch!

It's a trick, isn't it?

You're asking us whether
we'd like to give up or fight on.

Well, I believe the Emma Harte way
is to fight on. Isn't that right?

What's happening here, Edwina?

Are you attempting to
begin a feud like mine,

or would you just like £1 million

and for this all to be over?

Paula will now take my place
on the board at Sitex Oil.

She'll also take over
every one of my shares

at Harte Stores
and Harte Enterprises.

Paula owns this house.
She owns the lot.

It was always going to be her.

Nobody else reminds me
so much of myself.

And what better compliment
could there be?

Would you step outside
for a moment, Edwina?

I have something for you.

What is it?

Some information for you, Edwina.

Regardless of what it says
on your birth certificate,

your father isn't that
"lowly Irishman", as you put it.

It says Mac's name on it
quite clearly.

Because Mac was,

and always has been,

the best man there is.

But your father...

...is Edwin Fairley.

What?

I'm a Fairley?

Why didn't you tell me?

Because I knew
you'd receive it like a gift.

And because I knew
that would break my heart.

So... the famous Fairley feud?

This is why!

Every member of the Fairley family
has let down every one of mine.

You've turned out
to be living proof...

that no Fairley can ever be trusted.

Even Fairleys you gave birth to...

...turn on you in the end.

All signed.

Mrs Harte, what's your secret?

Oh, the same as it's always been,
my dear.

To endure.

Hey! Hey there, Emma Harte!

How dare you!

This is my house. It's my home!

Not any more.

This will always be my home.
It's got my name on it.

So you might have won for now.

Fairley Hall might be yours
for a short time,

but don't ever make the mistake

of stopping looking
over your shoulder,

because if you think this feud
has been brutal up to now,

you haven't seen anything yet.

I'm involved now, and soon
I'll have a family of my own.

So I promise you, whether
it's next year or in 50 years,

when you're least expecting it,

somehow the Fairleys
will take back this house.

Paula?

Paula?

Grandy!

Why didn't you tell me the
reason for your Fairley feud?

And why didn't you tell me
that you were...

...you were giving it all to me?

Because I knew you'd object.

But now it's all yours.

No...

Paula, I trust you unreservedly,

despite that ill-judged
dalliance of yours

with Jim Fairley.

Hey!

Hey, there!

Emma Harte.

Did I startle you?

Rude of me, of course.
I apologise.

And on your birthday too.

But... I gather this
is a family event, and...

I've been upstairs waiting to...

join my wife.

No... It was a whim.

A counter-strike.

After you and I fell out,

I was so determined
you wouldn't...

you wouldn't underestimate me.

You married... Jim Fairley?

I was gonna tell you today.

I had no idea you were planning
on signing it all over to me.

I... I'm so sorry.

I know... I know I should have...

But...

...I love him.

And?

We're having a baby.

Strictly speaking, it will
be Paula having the baby,

I believe, but it'll belong
to both of us, of course.

What's hers is mine,
and all that.