Off on your travels again?

Oh, just to the Caribbean.

Oh, splendid.

Well, I hope so.

I'm going on my honeymoon.

HARRY: So who's the lucky man?

ALICE: Andrew Fielding.

MAN: She can't give you children.

ANDREW: We've talked about that.

Well, you gave me a set of keys, remember?

Not so you can walk in and out of here spying on me!

All right.

Keep your hair on.

Where were you when things started to go wrong, huh?

You were sunning yourself with your toyboy.

ALICE: Tonight's the night they begin emptying the old graves.

Nesta had such a thing about it.

I wonder if you can help me?

I'm looking for Mrs. Drage.

She came to supper with us.

Andrew took her back to the shop.

She said she was going home to spend the night with you.

Roz is right.

She never showed up.

I don't want you to get rolled over by Nesta again.

I don't need a bodyguard.

There are other kinds of vulnerability!

That yogurt, Pernille, where did it come from?

From Mr. Feast, Mrs.

Fielding.

I want to go to Brighton today.

Why?

I want to find Nesta.

Didn't Mrs. Drage come here on the 7th of August?

Look, if it's her address you require, I'm afraid I can't help.

Mrs. Drage only came in to collect her mail.

That's all I can tell you.

Her mail?

Oh, for God's sake!

Nesta was a menace when she was alive.

If the bloody woman is going to make our life a misery now, she's disappeared.

- Alive?

You said when Nesta was alive.

Oh!

God.

These must be nearly all her clothes.

So you're saying she's not been murdered?

She was in trouble, Jackie.

We know she was up to her eyeballs in debt at the shop.

And there was this man, this big man in Salstead.

JACKIE: The only pills I know for depression are the ones Mummy was on, tran-- oh.

Well, anyway, some-- I can't remember the name.

And you have to stay off, right, really odd combinations of food.

You can't eat broad beans or cheese or Marmite, otherwise you get a brain hemorrhage.

Well, I gave her cheese.

But whoever it is, --he's trying to kill me.

What are you doing?

Um, I forgot your tray.

Did you hear anything?

No.

♪ ♪ ♪ Hello, Daphne.

Ooh, it's good to see you up and about again, Mrs.

Fielding.

Well, if you've come for some food, I'm afraid you're too late.

Well, I haven't.

Has Harry gone?

No, not quite.

All right.

♪ Ah, Ms. Whittaker-- or should I say, Mrs.

Fielding?

We haven't seen as much of you of late.

Well, I'm here now.

Could I have a word with you, Harry?

Of course.

Yes.

Excuse us, Ian.

How are you, lass?

I'm fine.

Harry, I want to ask you something.

Have you ever prescribed tranylcypromine to anyone in Sollstedt?

Have I what?

What is this?

Have you?

I really need to know.

Well, yes, I have, as a matter of fact.

Mr. Feast?

That's the last thing I'd ever-- surely you don't expect me to discuss my other patients with you, Alice?

What is this?

It's Nesta.

I think I may be partly responsible for what's happened to her.

I'm nearly worried out of my mind.

Alice, no, you must-- Andrew won't talk to me about it.

He won't even talk about Nesta.

Well, that's hardly surprising in the circumstances.

What do you mean?

Well, when you married a man so much younger than yourself, surely, you realized you'd be liable to run into this sort of problem?

I-- I don't understand.

Look, let's leave Nesta aside for the moment, shall we?

Alice, for your own sake, you've got to stop connecting her with your husband.

Andrew and Nesta?

I don't believe you.

I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have mentioned it.

Please forget that.

Get off me.

You mean you didn't know?

You liar!

What has happened?

Are you all right, Madam?

I must lie down.

Oh.

Not a bad outcome, by and large, which is more than can be said of your wife's driving.

Centuries of civilization shared in an instant when you put a woman behind the wheel of a car, hmm?

Well, you better go in and absolve her.

I'll see you tomorrow.

You will, if I'm spared.

Right, then.

Mr.

Fielding, the state she came in.

Where is she?

She went straight upstairs.

Why did it have to happen, Andrew?

What why have to happen?

You and-- you and Nesta.

Harry told me.

Damn him.

Blast him.

Were you in love with her?

Andrew?

If only I can make you believe how violently I loathed her.

She was utterly repulsive to me.

You couldn't see it.

I had to put up with that white slug of a woman with her false hair because she was your friend.

My god, Belle.

Sometimes I thought I'd kill her if she made one more malapropism.

Why didn't you tell me that there was something?

There was something between you, something you wanted to hide, wasn't there?

If there hadn't have been, I suppose I wouldn't have felt quite such revulsion.

You remember the night before she was supposed to be leaving?

She-- she came to supper.

You insisted I drive her home.

Well, she asked me in, all among the dusty, tired, and dying pot plants.

I remember she gave you one of them.

Not before she'd slobber all over me.

That was bad enough.

What made it hideous was I-- I pushed her away.

She went completely bananas, on and on about how she loved you, too, that she realized you and I-- oh, my god, that didn't mean she and I had to deny what we felt for each other.

You had to be told.

We had to find a way of coping with it together.

I mean, the three of us.

I managed to calm her down a bit.

Get out with that damn pot plant.

She said it was a-- a token of goodwill towards you.

I tell you, Belle, she was mad.

At the time, she frightened the life out of me.

And ever since, I've been afraid that she might turn up or you'd find her.

I beg you to believe me.

It's all right.

I do.

It might come as a blow to your vanity, but she did much the same to Hugo.

Oh, poor old Hugo.

She seems to have cut a swathe through the male population of Salstead.

Question is, how did Harry know about you and Nesta?

I don't suppose he did.

It was just a malicious shot in the dark by a jealous man who saw the chance to make trouble between us.

Thank god he failed.

He did, didn't he?

Of course he did.

Mm.

God, who's that?

It's Uncle Jay.

I wonder what he wants.

I don't.

Mrs. Johnson will have been spreading alarm and despondency, I bet you.

Will you make him some tea?

I'll be down in a minute.

I love you.

Tea?

What do I want with tea at this time?

I don't know where you pick up these proletarian habits, Alice.

I expect it's a reaction against my upbringing, Uncle Jay.

Mm.

What's this Mrs. Johnson's been telling me about you driving as though all the devils in hell are after you?

She'd no business bothering you.

I was tired.

I was thinking about something else, instead of concentrating on what I was doing.

That's all.

- Mm.

I might as well tell you, Alice.

I'm worried about you.

This has gone on long enough.

There's something the matter with you.

You better get to the bottom of it before Andrew here finds himself tied to a chronic invalid.

Or worse.

He's right, darling.

What?

♪ What-- what's the matter, darling?

Oh.

ANDREW: Oh, my god.

Alice.

Oh, my god.

HARRY: Look, I'm perfectly well aware I'm not here because you want me to be.

But since Mr. Whittaker telephoned me and as Alice is my patient, I think the least you can do is allow me to try and make a diagnosis.

The operative word is-- the operative word is "try."

You've been seeing my wife pretty well every day since this trouble started, and all you've been able to suggest is some sort of mythical virus.

A virus is the last thing I'm considering at the moment.

What do you mean considering?

What kind of a doctor are you, for Christ's sakes?

My wife has collapsed.

Can't you tell me what you think is the matter with your patient?

Or are you just going to stand around until she goes into some sort of terminal decline?

Look, before I can be sure, I have to examine Alice and ask her some questions.

Now, if you or Ms. Matheson will be kind enough to help me carry Alice upstairs.

If you dare touch my wife.

For God's sake.

Alice and I are old friends.

I've had about as much of this old friend crap as I can stand.

In fact, I thought there were rules about doctors and their so-called friendly relations with their female patients.

I shall try to forget you ever said that.

If you weren't married to Alice, I'd have you up for slander.

I mean, can't you guess what's wrong with your wife?

Or are you too much of an escapist to face up to it?

I'm a concerned husband, not an incompetent, provincial backstreet quack.

Now, would you please go?

ALICE: Harry?

Alice.

I understand.

I should have realized before.

Don't worry.

I'll be careful now.

I have to go.

Promise me you'll call someone else in.

You must let a doctor examine you.

I will.

Get out.

I know, I should never have flown off the handle.

I'm so afraid, Andrew.

We'll get you another doctor, Belle, someone who really knows what they're doing-- a specialist.

Uncle Jay's already looking into it.

If I die-- No, come on.

No, if I die, I want you to know that everything's yours-- the house, the money, the shares.

I made a will when we got married.

People don't die of food poisoning, darling.

No.

You're so tired and overwrought, you don't know what you're talking about.

You won't leave me, will you?

Of course I won't.

No, now.

I mean, stay with me.

Of course I'll stay with you.

We'll get you to bed in a bit, see about giving you something to eat.

Please rest now.

What is it?

My eyelids.

You just closed my eyelids.

That's what they do when you're dead, isn't it?

I've brought you a few flowers.

I brought you some-- Oh!

Oh, it's you.

Thank God.

What is it?

Oh, it's a bit of custard.

That's a bit extreme, isn't it?

Bypassing the digestive system to go straight from oven to lavatory.

Mrs. Johnson made it.

Oh, and you don't want to hurt her feelings?

But couldn't you just say you didn't feel like it?

Damn her feelings.

Now I know you're in a two and a-- No, you don't understand.

OK. Why don't I do something with these whilst you bring me up to date?

It's not a morbid fancy.

Harry agrees.

I'm being poisoned!

He said as much last night before Andrew threw him out.

By whoever killed Nesta?

It gets more obvious the more you think about it.

But who?

ALICE: I began by suspecting Mr. Feast.

The first time I got sick was after being the only person in the house to eat his yogurt.

JACKIE: And the next?

The reception.

You mean, the opening of the bypass?

And the last and by far the worst was yesterday.

I thought it might be Mrs. Johnson, but she didn't have anything to do with the reception.

Jackie, there's only one person who was actually present on all three occasions.

Who?

Uncle Jay.

Uncle Jay?

Alice, you must be joking.

Nesta was having a thing with a big man in Salstead.

Well, they don't get much bigger.

And if she was blackmailing him-- I-- I mean, it's just too ridiculous to contemplate.

Well, I can just about imagine him trying to kill her, but poison you?

Dear God knows I don't want to believe it, but somebody's trying to.

Jackie, I'm so frightened, I can't think straight.

Harry's made me promise I've got to see a specialist and get a second opinion.

And until then, I simply dare not touch anything, unless-- unless no one's been near it, except Pernille or Andrew.

I'm up now, Pernille!

I've taken Mrs.

Fielding's tray down!

Why, thank you, Mrs. Whittaker.

- Who is it?

PERNILLE: It is me, Mrs.

Fielding.

Oh, come in.

Yes, Pernille?

Is there anything you will be wanting?

No, thank you.

You're looking lovely.

Are you going out?

This is my evening off, Mrs.

Fielding.

Oh, yes, of course it is.

Are you going somewhere nice?

It is nice for me.

My brother's arriving, and I'm going to the airport to meet him.

I haven't seen him in such a long time.

I'm terribly excited.

Yes, I'm sure you are.

Don't bother coming back early.

Oh.

Mr.

Fielding said that perhaps I don't need to come until tomorrow, but-- No, of course you mustn't come back.

Mr.

Fielding can look after me.

He said he'll be back at 7:00.

And I've got your tea ready for you and the dinner.

And I've explained everything to him.

He only has to put the casserole in the oven and do the salad.

I even washed the lettuce.

You're an angel.

Thank you.

Will you pass my bag?

Oh, wait a minute.

Take your brother to dinner.

- Oh, this is too much.

- No.

Push the boat out.

Sorry?

It'll make me very happy that you and your brother have a lovely dinner together.

You're very kind to me and to Marek, too.

So if you're sure there is nothing else-- No.

Off you go.

Bye!

ALICE: Bye.

Pernille!

♪ ♪ ♪ Oh!

What are you doing here?

I live here, remember?

I wasn't expecting you back till 7:00.

Darling, what is the matter?

You're supposed to be in bed.

The phone's been cut off.

Yes, I know.

That's partly why I came home earlier.

I tried to call you.

Apparently, there's a fault in the line.

They're working on it now.

But why did you double lock the front door?

My god, you look as if you've seen a ghost.

You've got a typewriter.

No, I haven't.

Don't lie.

I've seen it in there.

Oh, that old thing.

It's Pernille's.

She couldn't work out how to change the ribbon.

I did it for her.

So what?

You know you shouldn't-- It's the typewriter that Nesta used.

Not that again.

It's a bog standard type, darling.

Pica 10.

There must be millions of clapped out old portables that are out there.

Are you sure?

Mind you, I'd really like to believe this did point the finger at Nesta's murderer.

Why?

Because it wasn't Pernille's machine.

Boring old Blunden lent it to her to help hammer home her English vocabulary.

Oh.

I didn't know.

No.

As far as I'm concerned, it'd be wonderful if this didn't just lay the ghost of Nesta, but put the Dolores doctor behind bars.

I'm-- I'm not making fun of you, Belle.

I'm trying to show where this line of-- I was going to say reasoning gets you.

You're not well, darling.

The reason I tried to call was because Uncle Jay's got the top man in Harley Street to come down to see you tomorrow.

Let's just hang on till then.

Once we discover what's wrong, I honestly think you're going to find all the horrors you've been going through, they'll just kind of disappear.

And then can we get away from here?

Permanently, I mean.

I mean, I'll see the specialist.

I'll see him.

But I honestly think I'll be all right if we can just get away from here.

Andrew?

When we became engaged, I came down for the weekend.

I meant to tell you then that I'd have to take you away, Belle.

And I couldn't work here.

But as soon as, uh, I arrived, you brought me to this house.

You showed it to me.

Your face was like a little girl showing off a doll's house.

I didn't realize it was as bad as that.

Why didn't you tell me?

I did try.

You couldn't hear.

Did you mean what you said just now?

That we could go away permanently?

Don't humor me, Belle.

It's what I want, more than anything in the world.

Right.

Right.

Here's what we'll do.

I'll put some champagne on ice.

You go and tidy yourself up.

I'll organize dinner.

And then, darling Belle, we're going to get drunk and plan how we're going to spend the rest of our lives together and go to bed, make miraculous love.

♪ Wow.

You look absolutely fantastic.

Compliments fly.

- To us.

- To us.

Mm.

Being a kept man has its compensations after all.

Joke.

Right.

Five minutes, we can eat.

Leave me a drop of champagne.

♪ ♪ VOICEMAIL SYSTEM: Please leave a message after the tone, and we will return your call as soon as possible.

ANDREW (ON RECORDING): Hello.

This is Andrew Fielding.

On September the 25th, I'd like to cancel my wife's appointment to see Dr. Solomon tomorrow.

I am sorry for the short notice.

Thank you.

Bye.

♪ Where's Uncle Jay?

My dear.

Whatever possessed you to come out without a coat?

Where is he?

Well, Mr. Justin's gone out with Mr. and Mrs. Hugo.

Well, it's their wedding anniversary.

♪ Darling!

Belle?

♪ Hello, Daphne.

Well, you know, they've gone down with George.

I'm babysitting.

And I haven't had a moment's peace, I can tell you.

I must use the phone.

Mrs. Johnson, have you seen Alice?

Madam was here, but I'm afraid she ran off.

Could you pick me up?

No, I can't explain.

I'll be on the corner of Station Road.

Are you all right there, Mrs.

Fielding?

Yes.

Thank you, Daphne.

I've, um-- I've borrowed one of Mrs. Whittaker's coats.

She won't mind.

- Oh.

- I'm-- I'm off now.

♪ Oh, thank God.

Alice, what's happened?

Get in.

I've left him.

I'm sorry, Harry.

I didn't know what else to do.

You're the only person I can trust.

That's all right.

Please, come in here.

It's all right.

Come on, calm down.

Sit down and tell me what happened.

You know what you said in the church-- Andrew and Nesta?

Oh, god, Harry.

I found the typewriter.

I found the book.

I'll give you something to calm you.

What can you give me?

What is that?

It's all right.

It's perfectly safe.

It'll make you feel better.

It will make things easier for you.

Roll up your sleeve.

This won't hurt.

There.

There.

All over.

How could he do it?

He had everything.

He told me he loved me.

Poor Nesta.

What are you talking about, Alice?

I want to die.

Alice, don't be stupid.

It's finished, Harry.

What?

What's finished?

He killed her.

You warned me.

Alice.

You told me to be careful, and he threw you out.

Why?

Why are you laughing?

Nesta had myxedema, a subnormal activity of the thyroid gland, the clinical syndrome in adult life resulting in obesity, coarsening of the skin, loss of hair, and self-delusion.

Your husband knew nothing about Nesta.

Well, then who was the man?

The big man in Solstead?

There were two men in Nesta's life, Mr. Feast-- and I doubt if he was ever alone with her for five minutes-- and one other.

How do you know?

How do I know?

I was the other man.

She reminded me a little of you.

And since I couldn't have you-- You want to speak to your husband, do you?

Can't you forget him for a single moment?

You owe me one last half hour of your time.

You want to know about Nesta, do you?

We used to go to that hotel you traced her to, the Endymion, a sordid little dump.

It had to be like that, didn't it?

Sordid and underhand.

You see, I was her doctor.

No.

Oh, that's marvelous.

Hold on.

Is Mrs. Drage here?

Not what you might call "here."

Just my little joke.

She went straight up.

Room 43.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Drage.

Oh, isn't it?

HARRY: You simply must start having treatment.

Come on.

You're supposed to be making love to me, not examining me.

If you don't, you'll end up bloated, grotesque, unable to look after yourself.

Do you mind?

I just need to get myself together, that's all.

Look, you're-- And I won't come running the way you did.

Your vanity is just another symptom.

Leave me alone!

You're just getting at me because you want to get rid of me!

That is not true.

Well, prove it, huh?

Look, I'm sorry, I-- If you want my opinion, it's you who wants treatment, not me.

HARRY (VOICEOVER): In the end, she said she couldn't cope anymore.

She had to get away.

With the money she made from the shop, she'd stay at the hotel and sort things out, she said.

I could visit her there, she said.

But I knew that she'd have to get herself another doctor.

She'd just have to.

And knowing Nesta, she'd be bound to tell him about me.

HARRY (VOICEOVER): I had a key to the bridal wreath.

I went to see Nesta the night before she went away.

I was going to make one final effort to get her to have treatment.

By that time, she wouldn't take anything I prescribed.

Nesta?

HARRY (VOICEOVER): She didn't answer.

I went upstairs.

Nesta?

HARRY (VOICEOVER): She was lying on the sofa, unconscious.

HARRY: Nesta?

HARRY (VOICEOVER): I didn't know what had happened, what she'd taken.

HARRY (VOICEOVER): I wish I could make you understand what I felt.

You see, she could have ruined me.

And then all of a sudden, I could be free.

Just one tiny push over the edge, and even that, just to do nothing and let her die.

No one need ever know.

No one need ever see her.

I looked over at her, at the sofa, and then I looked out of the window, at a readymade burial ground.

No, no, no.

I-- I didn't let her die then.

If only I had.

You want Alice, right?

I want Andrew.

The question is how to get what we want.

Look, as far as everyone's concerned, I disappeared, right?

We've just got to think of a way of using that to get what we want.

HARRY: How?

Well, I'm not sure yet.

The favorite would be to wind Alice up so much that Andrew thinks she's not just barren, but out of her mind.

That way, he does a runner into my waiting arms.

And who does Alice turn to in her hour of need but Good Old Faithful?

You see, the mistake most people make about manic depressives, of which Nesta was one, is to believe that they lose contact with reality.

In fact, it is their curse at either end of the scale to be afflicted by a heightened sense of it.

We made up the plan together, though it was Nesta who knew how-- how precisely to hone in on your psyche.

I claim some responsibility for Salsby, Nesta being barely literate.

Would have been hard pressed to have thought of such an elegant plan to bring suspicion full circle back to your husband.

After you started to respond to Nesta's letters, I became merely a mechanic, making sure that the evidence, like the typewriter and the book were, or, in the case of the hotel, were not, in the right place at the proper time in order for you to draw the wrong conclusion.

You know, I could hardly believe how smoothly it all went.

And then your uncle sent for me.

When I saw you, I knew we had to stop.

I did try to stop, Alice.

NESTA: It's working, innit?

Look.

What you don't understand is at her age, there could be complications.

We could kill her.

Well, that's tough-- on you, that is-- because me, well, I get Andrew and her money.

You're mad.

I won't go through with it.

Yes, you will.

You'll do what I say because you're in too deep to do anything else.

I'm your patient, remember?

You're a counselor, whatever it is.

Well, they'll take a dim view of you bonking me.

But using me, putty in your hands as a result of your treatment, to get another patient to drive her out of her mind?

HARRY (VOICEOVER): I agreed, of course.

What else could I do?

Apart from anything else, Nesta had become very agitated.

I gave her a sedative, the same one I've given you, as a matter of fact.

I didn't tell anyone.

In fact, I told the hotel to get their doctor to give one.

When I got home, I rang to see how she was.

Nesta had gone into a coma.

She didn't recover.

The poor doctor thought that he'd misjudged the dose.

I didn't disillusion him.

And much more prestigious hotels than the Endymion hate their clients dying on the premises.

It was in everyone's interest to cover it up.

I knew she was dead.

Poor Nesta.

I don't know why you care about her.

She hated you.

You had everything she ever wanted-- money, style.

You even had the man she wanted-- Andrew.

You've been poisoning me.

No one's been poisoning you.

You're pregnant.

Oh, my god.

So I've known for weeks.

Why didn't you tell me?

I couldn't.

I couldn't bear to.

I couldn't bear the thought of you two together, of him touching you.

I just couldn't bear the thought of you being so happy.

This is supposedly quick and quite painless.

But then to kill you really would make nonsense of the whole stupid affair.

Go home, Alice.

♪ Take me home.

♪ More champagne?

Now, look.

Petty, down.

You boys do what your mother tells you at all times.

Oh, you-- BOYS: Where is the baby?

Now be careful, boys.

It's got a hole in the top of its head!

They all do, stupid.

The difference is yours never closed.

Will you two go away?

No, you go!

Well, now you've started, there'll be no stopping you.

Leave!

Well?

He's beautiful.

Will you?

- He's a miracle.

None of this Holy Roman rubbish.

You could have had a pack of them by now, if that infertile swine hadn't lied to you.

They wouldn't have been Andrew's.

Yeah, well, there is that, I suppose.

- Uncle Jay.

- Hmm?

Aye.

What's this?

An advance copy of my first book.

Ah.

We couldn't have been giving you enough to do at the works.

I'd like you to accept it, along with my resignation.

If that's the case, the least you can do is sign it.

He improves on acquaintance, you know?

Just make sure you keep your wife in the style to which she's accustomed, or you'll have me to reckon with.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪