The Haunting of Bly Manor

We lay my love and I…

…beneath the weeping willow.

But now alone I lie…

… and weep beside the tree.

Singin', "O willow waly…"

… by the tree that weeps with me.

Singing, "O willow waly…"

… till my lover return to me.

Can I have your attention, please?

You'll get to your meals momentarily, but first…

the bride has asked me to speak.

I thought she was joking!

Why invite such catastrophe

upon your own wedding?

But, as she explained,

"No, heavens, no. Not the wedding,

the practice meal."

The rehearsal dinner, for God's sakes!

I must claim my right as a slightly drunk, completely jet-lagged Englishman

to well and truly speak my mind.

Because I want to warn you all,

you young people have absolutely no idea

what you are letting yourselves in for.

Oh…

Here's a horrifying statistic.

Did you know that almost half of marriages these days

do not end up in divorce?

That means there's a strong probability that you two get to watch each other die.

And that's the preferred outcome.

To truly love another person

is to accept that the work of loving them

is worth the pain of losing them.

And that's it.

That's all.

And if that scares you as much as it scares me,

then I say run.

Go off and do drugs on a beach in Bali.

Devote yourself to a life of the mind. Run!

Run while you still can. You're young, you're strong. The world…

No, I'm serious,

- we actually refused to stay here. - She refused.

I didn't know staying here was even an option.

There's three suites in the castle,

- and Jack wanted to stay here… - Just one night.

…before we left for the honeymoon.

Just tomorrow. Just after the reception, so we could just stumble upstairs.

But I said, "No way, not after those stories."

Wait, just the stories?

- You didn't see her? - No! God no, I didn't see her.

If I saw a dead woman, a dead nun, no less, crying in the corners,

- we would not be getting married here. - Okay, it's just a story.

This place used to be a convent for, like, a few decades in the '40s.

It's part of the sales package.

They can charge a few hundred extra for the ghost story.

Look, I love a good ghost story, I just don't want to sleep in one.

We honeymooned in Ireland.

They kept telling us to look out for Seamus,

the stable boy.

Oh, Seamus.

They said his head was crushed in where a horse had kicked him.

Ghost stories are worse when there's a kid.

Adds a little something, doesn't it?

I have a story.

Well…

…it isn't really my story.

It belongs to someone I knew.

And it's not exactly short.

Well, it seems we have time enough, and…

wine enough.

Why not?

All right, then.

A ghost story.

Again, this story isn't mine,

but it is full of ghosts of all sorts.

And if a child gives the effect,

another turn of the screw…

…what do you say to two?

The teacher was, by choice, a solitary young woman.

Come up to London in trepidation to answer in person an advertisement…

… placed by one Lord Henry Wingrave

regarding his young nephew and niece,

who were in need of an au pair.

A full-time position, it said. Live-in, at that,

in his old family home in Essex.

A great good place,

alone in the country.

Miss Clayton, is it?

Oh, call me Dani. Hi there.

Please, have a seat.

- You're a teacher? - Yes.

Or I was.

Fourth grade.

In the States.

Mm-hmm.

Been in England long?

About six months.

Six months? During which time, you've…

Well, I've…

…fallen quite in love with London.

God.

Tea? Coffee?

No, thank you. Haven't quite mastered tea yet.

I'm used to it coming in a pitcher.

Full of ice cubes…

…and lemon wedges, and…

Well, it's a whole different thing here.

Yes, it is.

You've no previous experience as an au pair.

Well, I…

I've quite a bit of experience with children, Mr. Wingrave.

In a classroom, but this is a full-time, live-in position.

I know, that's actually why

- I responded to the ad. - The children are wonderful.

Exceptional, really, my niece and my nephew.

Exceptional children, as I said.

But challenging, both.

Miles, my nephew, is back home from boarding school early.

He needs structure,

discipline more than ever, I fear.

Mm-hmm.

Well, can I ask why he was sent home?

- Spring session shouldn't end... - You'd be expected to tutor him

so he doesn't fall behind.

In that respect, your classroom experience may actually be of use.

The same with Flora,

my niece.

You'd tutor her as well.

Your ad mentioned the position was in the countryside?

In Bly,

my family's country house.

The children are used to Bly, they…

spent summers and holidays there with their parents,

before they passed.

It's a great good place, the manor.

There are few others on the grounds.

A cook, groundskeeper. They stay in town.

There is a live-in housekeeper, but the children…

would be your responsibility and yours alone.

Don't call on me unless it's an emergency.

I'm extraordinarily busy.

I understand.

You know,

one of my more unique assignments at my school

was specific to some of our highest-need children,

- one of whom had actually lost their par... - What's the catch?

I'm sorry?

The catch. You're what?

Thirty?

Mid-twenties?

I wonder…

What's the catch?

You're younger than most who'd apply for this sort of thing.

What makes a woman of your age

want to give up her life to take care of someone else's children?

A life in America, at that.

Full-time as well.

It seems odd… to me, to be frank.

Hm.

It seems odd to me too.

The listing, I mean.

A full-time position in a beautiful country manor

to two exceptional children.

But I saw your ad six months ago.

When I first arrived in London.

And I have seen it every month since.

Seems to me an easy position to fill.

At least as you've described.

So, I suppose you're right.

What is the catch?

That really is the question.

Thank you.

Alright, James?

I know I didn't get the job,

and that's totally cool.

But that was the most awkward job interview of my entire life.

So, I think we should toast to it, Mr. Wingrave.

Or do you prefer it in your tea?

So…

you can tell me now, right?

I'm honestly so, so curious.

About what?

The catch.

- Oh, no. - No, come on!

Well…

…imagination, I suppose.

No one wants the job.

Oh, come on. No one?

We did find someone for a while.

Last summer.

A promising young woman.

The children liked her.

Mm-hmm.

And then, she…

Well, I-I suppose she died.

It was her own fault, to be blunt.

Her choice, to be blunter,

but she died on the grounds.

People are superstitious, especially in the country.

So, now it's a story.

These small children in that huge house with their dead parents,