The Village

Can you introduce yourself?

My name is Bert Middleton.

I'm the second oldest man in Britain.

This is the last thing I'll do, so you'd better listen carefully

and do it properly.

Make it honest.

Where are we?

The summer of 1914?

The summer the bus came.

Put up the photograph.

I don't know why, but it was a solemn occasion,

and that made it even more exciting.

It was the first ever bus to come to our village.

The bus came in. The bus stopped.

The bus drove off.

And there she was.

No-one was expecting anyone to actually get off the bus.

There she was.

Was it love at first sight?

What kind of question is that?

I was 12 years old.

Of course it was love at first sight.

100 years later, when I say her name,

I feel exactly the same way about her.

Martha Lane.

Martha Lane.

Joe had gone to work at the Big House.

I didn't know it then,

but it was the start of him trying to get away.

I was too young, too filled up with being alive to see what

he was after.

And nobody had left the village in 100 years.

My father went abroad twice in his life.

By "abroad," I mean out of the parish, and he didn't like it.

All of life was in our village.

Joe was my big brother.

It wasn't that I could tell him about the lady from the bus,

but I wanted to be with him, like I always did when the sky fell in.

Or my heart heaved.

Anyway, here's what happened.

You're going to swim today. I can't.

No, you will. Here, did I tell you about the drowning?

No. I shouldn't.

Please! No!

Please!

She was sucked under and never seen again.

Here?

D'you know what they say? No. What?

What?

She's looking for a fellow to drown and be with her for ever.

Joe?

Joe!

Joe!

Joe!

Joe! Help!

She's under us, mate. I can feel her, she's underneath us.

Quick, quick. Swim for your life.

Swim. Swim, fella, swim. Come on! Come on.

Swim! That's it, Bert, you're doing it. You're swimming.

Swim to me. Come on.

Oh, look!

Yeah!

It was her! I saw her.

We should get home.

Do we have to?

It's time to go, Bert.

I'll look after you. All right?

Hello.

Why do you say hello to me?

Why wouldn't I?

What do you want? Who are you?

I'm 19 years old.

You'll stand.

Are you going to ask me, Mother?

Did you get round?

Three sides on me own.

And the sheathing?

I want you in the field at 3.00 tomorrow. Do you understand?

Why are you shivering?

Why's he shivering?

I was teaching him how to swim.

Sit down.

Look at these hands. Look at the work in them.

Swimming?

Swimming?!

Don't look at him.

I said, don't look at him!

Joe. No. Joe. Please!

Joe.

Joe. Joe!

Joe!

Joe! Joe!

I don't want to be in here!

Joe!

Where is he?

I'll wait for him.

Come to bed.

Come to bed, my man.

I want you to have your life.

You must do everything you can to find it.

You wouldn't leave us, Joe.

They're my sons. Why aren't they with me?

Why?

Because my left hand is not the right hand, sir.

Mmm-hmm.

Get your hand up.

Why?

Because... my left hand is not the right hand, sir.

Mmm-hmm.

Get it up.

Oh.

Playing games, are we?

No, no, no, no.

I'm busy here, Mr Eyre, if you don't mind.

Get your hand up.

Up.

Look at me.

Why?

Why?!

Another?

Mother says that we'll have water on tap next year.

And then where will you be?

And then where will he be?

It'll get cold, Miss Caroline.

So what are you waiting for?

Poor Joe.

Can you draw, Bert?

Now you.

Do you see that up there?

Copy the shapes. That's all there is to it.

You're tired.

I didn't sleep much.

What time is it now?

It's 3.00.

I promised my father I'd be in the field at 3.00.

Well, I've kept you.

You'd have been finished by now if it wasn't for me.

It's too neat.

Rake and sheath. All in eights. And don't think I won't check.

For this harvest, you have my thanks.

Pay me now. Or go and come back when you can pay me.

Some more drinks, Peter.

You thieving bastard!

Why did you do that, Father? He's my neighbour.

How long were you teaching for?

A year.

Greek and Latin, to a small boy in a big house.

And why did you leave?

My father wrote to me every Sunday

telling me about the new village he'd come to.

It made me want to be here.

And what do you think?

There's work to do.

Our very own missionary.

So, you'll take them?

What will people think?

John and Charles Wesley have come in by the back door.

I came in the front, Mr Eyre. God doesn't need a back door.

Neither, it seems, do Yorkshirewomen.

What have you done to my son?

Should we starve so he could learn to write?

Does writing ever feed anyone?

I know how hard things are for you.

No, you don't. You have got no idea!

But I also know that a boy needs an education.

They won't dry. Every bloody sheath you've laid east-west.

How many times have I told you?

They only dry if they're north-south.

Come on! Come on!

Tripe and onions in milk and a little liver.

Joe's wages.

I'm going to bed.

Pride is a sin, John.

Then I'm going to hell, because it's all I've got.

Can I have more of that, Mother?

Of course. Thanks.

Have you eaten, Mother?

Yes.

Must a man pay all his life for one mistake? Is that God's way?

I forgive you.

I think it is in everything you do and say that you have not.

No, that is you, John.

It is you not allowing my forgiveness in.

Must it always be my fault?

Hurry up! Come on!

Come on. Hurry up!

Your father got his harvest in?

You ready? I am.

Right, in your own time, Mr Evans.

Everyone, now I would like you all to run down the hill,

touch the church gate,

turn around and run back up to school as quick as you can.

Quick, go, go, all of you.

Mr Eyre? It's a school photograph, Mr Eyre.

On you go.

Tommy, we are going to run on the spot, come on.

Quick, quick, quick, quick.

Children! Come back!

This is not a sports day!

Come on. Move it!