Dickensian

Your sister's "North Star" has made himself comfortable at Satis House.

Far too comfortable.

Trust me, Pocket's nothing more than a struggling tutor.

Father paid for him to travel

so that he might make something of himself.

And has he?

No. Far too honest for his own good.

I wouldn't give him another thought. He'll be gone within a few days.

Thank you, cousin.

For?

Getting me out riding again. I haven't been since Father died.

I spend all my time trying to run the brewery.

It must be a terrible responsibility.

It's a privilege to be trusted with such a task.

Is there anything I can do to help?

Name it - you know I'd do anything for you.

Well, there is something...

...if you are willing to change your travel plans.

Thank you.

His bark's worse than his bite.

SHUTTER OPENS

Kiss for luck?

Ah, Mr Barbary.

The ship containing your stock has set sail.

Excellent!

Many thanks, Mr Jaggers.

DOOR OPENS

Dodger?

Nah. Prince Albert!

Closest you'll get to 'im's a royal hidin'.

What you got for me, boy?

Chop...

...beer.

Oy, that it?

What you want the soap for? You got lice?

You want to try vinegar.

You want to try keepin' that out of my business.

DODGER LAUGHS

Tell Nancy to meet me in The Cripples, two bells, sharp!

Soap?

Then he wanted me to knock on Nancy's

to tell her to meet him later.

Follow him. See what he's up to.

Make sure you keep out of sight.

Let's see your pickings, then. What you got?

The hat's mine!

Take this to Sir Leicester Dedlock - and hurry.

Oh! Excuse me!

What the eye doesn't see...

My usual, Mr Wegg.

Whoa, up you go.

What's your name?

Tim, sir.

How do you do, Tim?

My name's Bucket - it's a funny name, isn't it?

King of the castle, eh? Oh, lovely, lovely wedding, Emily.

Your Martha looked a picture - worth the wait.

'Ow are the newlyweds?

Their first day of married life at the Bagnets.

You dropped this, sir.

Oh, thank you. Good lad.

Good lad.

Honest young man you've got here.

Takes after his father.

Marseille!

Somethin' changed about you, Bill?

No.

You've 'ad a wash.

Yeah, and a comb!

And you smell clean. Like a proper gent!

You coming, girl?

Mr Compeyson?

My apologies for being unable to meet with you yesterday.

Perhaps you'll call again?

Perhaps.

My favourites - how like you to remember, Matthew.

Does Mr Compeyson still show an interest in the brewery?

What he says and what he does are two very different things.

Marseille...

This brandy was stolen on the same night Jacob Marley was murdered.

Any suspects?

Couple of dockers but they had alibis for Christmas Eve, sir.

Find out if Silas Wegg has ever troubled us.

Small favour, Mrs Gamp.

If that inspector comes sniff in' around again, tell him I ain't here.

Where will you be?

Here. Only don't tell 'im that.

If anyone asks, we're out of brandy.

Silas?

Might a small favour go with a small reward?

Ta very much, kind sir.

What's all this in aid of?

There's no reason why we can't 'ave ourselves a picnic.

If I didn't know better, I'd say you was tryin' to impress me.

Don't be daft.

There's a sight I never thought I'd set eyes on - Bill Sikes blushing!

Shut up and drink your ale, gal.

That's it, sir,

that's the loan paid back, every last penny of it.

Hmm, well, I'm overwhelmed.

It's, er, it's most generous of you

to return the money that you stole from me, Cratchit.

I apologise, sir.

You think that rights your wrong, do you?

I didn't say that, sir.

Then allow me to say it for you, Cratchit -

such a treacherous act will not go unpunished.

As to what that punishment should be...

...I haven't decided yet.

You were out early.

I had something of the utmost importance to attend to.

Voila!

Papa! You spoil us!

How can we afford such luxury?

They're glazed fruits, not gold sceptres.

I know, but...

The stock is on its way. Mr Jaggers has confirmed it.

But Papa, I...

But nothing, Frances. Now, you see here - and here.

If you turn these up, they form something called a smile. Try it.

Look at you. You become more like a vagrant every day.

Oh, dear Arthur!

What a joy to see you again.

Cousin?

Such sad news about your father.

I was so very fond of him.

How did you... know I was here?

I've come to see Mr Compeyson.

I hadn't realised you two were friends.

Our paths crossed at my club.

You wish to see me?

If you'll allow me to buy you a drink, perhaps you'll tell me

what your interest in Miss Havisham's brewery is.

Bill Sikes ain't the sort to partake of a picnic.

A whatnic?

Picnic. What's it mean?

It means Sikes is up to something, my dear.

I have a legacy to invest,

although I should add your cousin's brewery

isn't my only avenue of interest.

If it were to become so, what returns would you expect?

With respect, Mr Pocket, if I wish to discuss my investments,

I'd prefer do it with the person in charge.

You're talking to him.

What?

Your sister has persuaded me

to delay my travels to America to help her with the brewery.

But you don't know the first thing about running a brewery.

I don't claim to, but Amelia has already been showing me the ropes.

Father's barely cold in the grave

and already it seems like she's quite the expert.

She doesn't want to let him down, Arthur.

And although the business means everything to her, so do you.

It's true. She wants you to come home.

I have little reason to return, even less now.

Well, this is an excellent opportunity for me to ask you

about the business, instead of me bothering Miss Havisham.

More drinks!

No, no, I'm fine.

I insist. I'm only too grateful for your advice.

KNOCK ON DOOR

We're expecting visitors?

I invited Sir Leicester for afternoon tea.

Sir Leicester?

Miss Barbary.

Mr Barbary. Please.

Your sister is conspicuous by her absence.

She's due home from the shop any minute.

James!

Erm, I wanted to ask you something. The answer's yes.

You don't know what I'm going to ask yet.

Whatever it is, yes, yes, yes.

There's an old saying.

The truer the love line, the longer the love lasts.

And I can see that your love for one very lucky man

will last...

...forever.

What trade are you in, Barbary?

Textiles.

Textiles?