The Crimson Petal and the White

This programme contains scenes of a sexual nature.

London, 1874.

Keep your wits about you.

This city is vast, and intricate, and you do not know your way around.

You imagine, from other stories you've read, that you know it well.

But those stories flattered you.

You are an alien from another time and place altogether.

You don't even know what hour it is, do you?

Nor do most where you're going.

Here people go to sleep as soon as the gin takes effect.

You've allowed yourself to be led astray

and there's no hope of finding your way back.

Elizabeth? I brought candles.

I won't need 'em. I'm not a pretty sight.

You look all right. Christ, Sugar.

Don't you never blush?

What happened?

Two of 'em.

Wouldn't walk all the way back here.

"How about a quick soot-arse in the alley?"

Never stopped laughing.

I'm going to hunt them down and kill them. Course you are.

Like all the ones who ever done you mischief.

Tomorrow I'll be cold meat.

They'll toss me in the river. They won't.

I won't let them.

Eels will eat out my eyes.

No-one'll know I ever lived.

I'll know.

You again? Who have you come to rescue now?

I brought Elizabeth some calf's-foot jelly.

Too late.

She's dead.

Fly... Fly now...

Fly!

It's from my hat. She struck at me with...

Curlew? Doctor Curlew's been sent for.

Oh...

My dear Mrs Fox, please, this way.

It is we who must apologise.

The party ended prematurely.

I'm afraid my sister-in-law brought it to a halt with a most unfortunate turn.

Oh, poor Agnes.

I think it best for me to... see you home.

I'm sorry, William.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

No need for that.

Am I still your little girl?

Yes...

Of course you are!

Always.

Don't touch me. No.

No, of course not.

You know very well Agnes is delicate.

Our current financial woes place an intolerable strain on her nerves.

It's hardly surprising that little incidents like this... Little incidents?!

She knocked a woman's hat clean off her head with a poker!

She could have had her eye out!

She felt trapped, she said.

Next thing she caught sight of the stuffed bird on Lady Bridgelow's bonnet

and believed it was about to take wing.

She sought only to free it from its yards of net. Can you hear yourself?

An erroneous impulse, certainly...

..but a generous one at least,

and given our current financial circumstances...

If you want your circumstances to change, you know what you have to do. Turn your mind to the business!

I gave you this year's accounts a month ago, have you looked at them? No! I have tried!

I do not have a flair for business!

I am not like you!

I'm a writer!

What have you written?

A small pamphlet.

Not yet published.

Dear God.

Father, if you were only to sell Rackham's... Sell?

..and invest the proceeds, we could all live quite comfortably off the interest!

Your allowance was somewhat reduced.

You may now consider it altogether withdrawn.

You go ahead, you be your own man.

At your own expense!

But, sir... Write your way out of that! Sir...

Sir?

Why, pray, was the vintner unable to make this delivery in person?

How did it come to pass that I had to ask you to collect the claret, Christopher?

He says, "Tell Mrs Castaway it's cos of Christmas."

Oh, Christmas!

What is Christmas?

It's the day Jesus was born.

Who's Jesus? He died for our sins.

Evidently unsuccessfully, since we're all still paying.

One squirt of slime from the man,

one fishy egg in the woman,

and behold -

they shall call his name...Emmanuel.

Got some bear's grease for ya.

Thank you, Christopher.

All alone, is it? No gent in tow?

Elizabeth is dead.

Gone to a better place.

Huh, always said she would, didn't she?

Huh!

Who's next?

You?

Me?

Be sure and carry a knife in your bodice from now on.

I'd never have the wit to use it.

Watch your dress.

You don't want to spoil it. A lot of trouble you go to for clothes that only stay on five minutes.

Excuse me, ladies. I would be honoured to preserve your image for all time! For all time?

No, thank you. Go on. Why not?

I'd rather not spend an indefinite future being passed from hand to hand by strangers.

Wouldn't have minded being remembered for eternity, that's all.

Elizabeth asked me to put her in my book.

Thinking the same, I suppose.

I used to love it when you read your book to us.

But I wondered...

whether you ever thought of putting a bit of good fortune in.

Like a miraculous rescue!

No.

It's a book of hate, Caddie,

to wreak revenge on every pompous trembling worm who taps at Mrs Castaway's door!

BILL!

Oh! Bodley, Ashwell.

What HAS happened to your hair?

Ah, it... It was supposed to look like Matthew Arnold.

I'm actually pleased it doesn't, I...I think his latest work to be overrated.

Come on, old chap, let's get you a drink.

So, we're quite worn out by the research for this book.

And, do you have a title yet?

The Efficacy of Prayer.

It's ironic.

Yes.

Is there any hope of finding a publisher for such a piece?

There's a thundering call these days for books that destroy the fabric of society. Speaking of which...

how goes the great work?

At its own pace.

Mmm. Oh, well...

don't let the book consume you entirely.

You're a virtual recluse these days, and such opportunities lost!

Opportunities?

Lucy Fitzroy. Only 14. Oh!

Wields a vicious whip at Madame Georgina's.

An absolute fizgig!

But the one we're just dying to have a crack at is Sugar.

Sugar? Over at Mrs Castaway's, a very high-class house.

Of course, one can never get her. I begin to wonder if she even exists.

The most intriguing reputation.

They say she never disappoints.

That'd put ink in your nib, now.

It should never be necessary to ring a doorbell more than once...

..especially if it is... one's own...

Letty.

How is Mrs Rackham? Well, sir, I believe.

Doctor Curlew is with her.

Mr Rackham?

We're short on coal.

The delivery never arrived.

I've changed supplier.

Our fellow was becoming quite erratic.

Mr Rackham?

Curlew.

Please.

Well, she's tolerably lucid, but I expect a full collapse very shortly.

Really?

I had been thinking she seemed rather better. Then you're deluded.

Rackham, every time I visit her, she has to fight that much more strenuously to compose herself.

She finds your visits very stressful.

Perhaps I... I do understand that having Agnes temporarily committed...

Committed! ..would cause you personal pain and social embarrassment.

But I have seen other men wrestle with the same decision and,

believe me, once they have made it, they are relieved beyond words.

'The most intriguing reputation.

'They say she never disappoints.

'SUGAR: The jewel in Castaway's crown.

'Sugar.

'Pay for cotton, but lie in silk.

'Beg, borrow or steal to buy my services.

'Seek me out at the Fireside Inn.'

How do I look, Clara?

Beautiful.

The doctor... says I'm not to read any more.

He...he says it excites me.

Well, he doesn't know everything. No.

You've been a very naughty boy!

So, you never told us what it is you do, what line of business?

Business? Er... there's a word I've no time for!

No, I am a writer,

novelist, critic.

What's your name? I might've heard of you. I very much doubt that.

You ladies don't, if you'll excuse me, look like readers.

I know more than you might expect.

I've had Charles Dickens. Ain't he dead? Not the bit she sucked on!

Who's that?

Is that who you're waiting for? Him and half the fools in 'ere.

Hey, Sugar! Writer, he says!

Waiting for ya.

All his life, I don't doubt!

Good evening, Mr...

Hunt.

With an aitch.