Dickensian

This way.

Through those doors.

How dare he strut around Satis House like a peacock?

- It's like he damn well owns the place! - Because he soon will.

- Over my dead body. - The wedding is tomorrow.

- They've already begun preparations. - There will be no wedding!

What will you do?

I intend to expose Meriwether Compeyson

for the liar and the fraud that he really is.

- She's besotted with him. - No.

No, she is besotted with the man that she thinks he is.

That man doesn't exist.

I need you to get him away from Satis House.

- I'll try. - Do it.

What if Amelia won't listen to you?

I won't be alone. We must gather our forces.

This madness ends today.

As soon as we get back from church,

champagne to be served at the door as the guests arrive.

- One tray to the left and one to the right, best crystal glasses. - Yes, Miss Havisham.

I want formal napkins on all of the tables, best silver and linens, and more flowers there.

Begging your pardon, Miss Havisham. Your dress and veil, Miss.

Mary? Show Martha to my room, would you?

Lay out the dress. I'll be up shortly.

- Is Miss Honoria back, Martha? - Er, I'm not sure, Miss.

It seems I am to be married without my chief bridesmaid.

- It's only important you and I are there. - Nonsense, I'm a Havisham.

This has to be the best wedding London society has ever seen.

I want people talking about it for years.

I think our bankers may be talking about it even longer.

Notoriety doesn't come cheap.

And as you will be master of Satis House once we're married,

this will be my last opportunity to spend this much money

without asking your permission!

And if I wasn't...

...Master of Satis House?

If there was none of this?

If you were a shop girl and I was a penniless labourer,

from a humble background? Would you still be happy?

Why would you ask such a thing?

- Would you? - Yes.

Yes, a thousand times yes.

And you?

A thousand times more.

Into the corners.

Sir?

Must I do everything for this trustees' visit?

Where's that painting, Bumble?

- I have it, my love! - Oh. - BUMBLE CHUCKLES

Hold still, boy!

Josiah Bounderby, founder of the East London workhouses.

It will show the Trustees how mindful we are of their office

and how much we value the traditions of our profession.

You took the very words from my lips, my strawberry pudding.

Where should he hang?

In the school room, above the fireplace.

It'll cover the hole.

How very prudent, my love.

I shall fetch a nail.

Well, hurry up!

This room needs to be finished!

Tables back, places set!

And you need to be scrubbed and de-loused

before the trustees get here.

I'm so sorry, I didn't quite catch that...

Yes, Mrs. Bumble.

Two plus three?

Five, Mrs. Bumble.

Three plus four?

Seven, Mrs. Bumble.

The Lord's prayer...

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven...

ON earth! ON earth as it is in heaven!

...On earth as it is in heaven.

Sir Leicester will be calling on you this afternoon.

Father believes he intends to ask for your hand.

I see.

You are to be Lady Dedlock.

- If that's the path you choose. - Of course. That goes without saying.

Does it?

Are we to keep up this pretence forever?

- Pretence? - That I have a choice in the matter.

- Honoria... - I was in love.

Love, Frances! Can you even remember the word?

My feelings counted for nothing then, so why pretend they do now?

I'm... I'm sorry, Honoria, but that's simply not true.

Then, when Sir Leicester calls, tell him I do not wish to see him

and that you will return all the money you have taken from him.

Sever all contact!

I'm sorry, Father.

I'm not asking that of you.

All I ask is that we stop the pretence, at least with each other.

I don't know what you want from me!

That we no longer speak of this union with Sir Leicester

as something wonderful - something I should be grateful for.

You shouldn't speak like that,

not after all that Father has done for us.

Do not talk to me of sacrifice and family duty, Frances.

I may be found wanting in many things, but not that!

Never that.

He's up, my love!

Come and see that it suits.

I'm busy, Bumble.

It's not upside down, is it?

No, my precious.

Mr. Bounderby looks down at us from due North, as intended.

Do I give them dumplings, Bumble?

An excellent idea, my one true love.

Two each for the trustees, one each for the children?

More than sufficient.

Very generous.

Once the trustees have seen the manner

in which we run this establishment

and tasted your dumplings, our promotion is assured.

Will it be, Bumble? You're certain?

Not a single doubt.

And we will be raised up?

Yes, yes.

- A new house? - A maid.

- New clothes? - Underclothes.

- Shoes? - Stockings.

Oh, Bumble!

How we'll celebrate!

- We'll have a party! - No, I... - For three.

- Three? - You...

You...

...and little Bumble.

BUMBLE CHUCKLES

Fetch the suet, Bumble.

Gentlemen, the other board members are joining us later. Thank you.

Thank you for coming.

I have better things to be doing

than sitting with you in The Three Cripples.

You can spare an hour, surely?

Actually, escaping your sister's madness for an hour

would be very welcome.

And tomorrow, we shall be family.

Yes.

I do hope we can find a way to become friends again, Arthur -

real friends.

It would make Amelia very happy.

Me, too.

And you shall prove it by buying the first drink.

Who knows? Maybe our invitations got lost in the post.

Or perhaps they're having them delivered personally

by one of their footmen.

Well, if they are, I won't be accepting.

I've better things to do than drinking champagne

and waltzing around with some great lump of lard -

not with my hips.

Champagne sounds nice, though.

Oh, no, I had it once - gave me terrible wind.

- Oh? - All night, I had it. I kept waking meself up. - Oh!

Hello, Bob.

He said I can have 15 minutes for lunch.

15 minutes? He's not going soft, is he?

Hardly. He said, "I'll dock your wages a shilling

"for every minute you're late".

So, if I'm 15 minutes late,

there won't be any wages at all this week.

- We'd better hurry up then, hadn't we? - You seem very chirpy today.

Do I?

That's cos I'm married to you.

Here, hope you're not getting romantic. I've only got 14 minutes.

- Well... - Don't even say it.

Good to see you.

I only ever wanted us to be happy -

to be safe.

And if you were to choose one of those things above the other,

which would you choose?

They're here, my turtle dove!

Ooh, line them up!

Spoon drill - and you act as though you eat as well as this every day.

Children, line up! Quickly, as rehearsed.

Now, bow when addressed.

Speak when spoken to.

Spoon drill!

Hold, two three.

Dip, two, three.

Up, two, three.

Eat, two, three...

Hold, two, three.

- Dip, two, three. Up, two, three... - KNOCKS AT DOOR

Hush. Now, stay in line.

And stand straight - shoulders back.

Coming!

Ah, Mrs. Tisher, gentlemen, please come in.

Children, say hello to our esteemed guests.

Welcome, Mr. Gradgrind.

Welcome, Mr. Bagstock.

Welcome, Reverend Crisparkle.

Welcome, Mrs. Tisher.

Welcome all.

My wife, Mrs. Bumble.

Dear, Mr. Gradgrind, you know.

Of course.

May I also present Mr. Bagstock,

late of Her Majesty's armed forces...