If I hadn't ducked,
the bullet would have hit me.
Johnny wanted to kill me.
This ain't right! It's a stitch up!
Christine, I'd never hurt you.
So you do know this girl, Jack? Christine Keeler?
Will you get me a direct line for Hollis?
Yes, MI5! What other Hollis is there?
Once the trial is over, the circus will have moved on.
Now is the time to cash in, Christine.
I've got this.
You won't be the first girl who's lost her head
over an offer to sell her story.
Tell them you exaggerated about Jack.
What about his note, though?
He calls me "darling" in it.
Stephen introduced me to John Profumo, the politician.
And a spy, a Russian.
- Crikey. - Yeah.
It's gonna be a really big story in the Sunday Mirror.
Like any girl, I had my dreams growing up.
The usual things.
The house, a family, a husband.
- Wake up, darling. - Why? What?
You've got to wake up. The phone.
Then I dreamt of running away...
escaping to London to find my fortune.
I suppose I'm proof dreams really do come true.
But so do nightmares.
My worst nightmare is always the same.
I'm trapped.
Trapped in a terrible place with no escape.
I scream and scream, but I have no voice.
Thank goodness you can always wake up.
Even from the worst nightmare you ever had.
Can't you?
*CREDITS*
Right, head down, look up and through your lashes.
- _ - Lovely. Beautiful. Look up.
Gorgeous. Extend that arm.
Lovely, gorgeous. Hold that.
Relax your mouth, so you have two fingers between your teeth.
Lovely. Just like that.
Perfect.
Three photographs.
I want it on record they've been stolen from my flat.
Look, if these photographs are leaked to the press,
it could bring down the government.
One of them is of the War Minister, Mr. Profumo, with a girl.
Christine Keeler.
One moment.
Sorry to hear about your burglary, Dr. Ward.
You don't seem to have much luck at the moment, do you?
The shooting and all.
As I've tried explaining to your man,
national security may very well be at stake.
Yes, we've been hearing something about that from Christine.
Chin down.
Look up and through your lashes. Gorgeous.
Hello.
Yes, gorgeous, hold that.
It's Stephen, he wants to talk to you.
- Tell him he can do one. - Tell him yourself.
He said it's urgent.
Oh, sorry to interrupt!
This is Mandy.
Kim's doing me for the Mirror, at home.
It's going to be out just after the trial.
- Well, aren't you clever? - Gorgeous.
I've never met a lady photographer before.
Thank you, Mand.
This way.
Profumo!
Wigg. Mrs. Castle...
- Oleaginous charlatan. - Hmm.
- We've got him, Barbara. Got him on toast. - Tell me more.
There's plenty more to tell, believe you me.
My Fleet Street mole has come good.
His days are numbered!
- Minister. - Hollis.
It's this business with Miss Keeler.
We need to issue a D-notice.
To the Sunday Mirror in the first instance,
then to any other newspaper editors
who's considering publishing this preposterous rubbish.
Just a moment, Minister.
Halting publication, on what grounds?
What can a teenage girl, relaying her life story to the newspapers,
have possibly said to jeopardise national security?
You tell me! I haven't been near her for months.
God knows what bilge the wretched rag
has persuaded her to put her name to.
A D-notice is an extremely serious measure.
It isn't meant as a sort of nappy
to preserve members of the government
from embarrassment by the press.
No, of course not. What about Captain Ivanov?
Ivanov?
Come off it. I know it's neither confirm nor deny with you chaps,
but I was led to believe MI5 consider him to be a threat to security.
- That is correct? -Yeah.
You wanted Miss Keeler to, err,
parade her wares in front of the Russian.
Presumably to open him up to the possibility of blackmail,
which is fair enough, it's only what
Moscow's been doing to our chaps for years.
That may be your interpretation, Minister,
but I can assure you we only wanted
to warn you away from Doctor Ward.
It had nothing to do with the young woman,
since we had no idea you were foolish enough
to become intimately involved with her.
For Christ's sake, Hollis!
What did your chaps think I was there for? Backache?
No wonder the Prime Minister thinks MI5
to be a band of incompetents!
If you have managed to turn Ivanov,
then Christine Keeler blurting a double
agent's name all over the newspapers
is bound to blow the whole operation out of the water.
A D-notice is the only way to prevent that from happening.
Thank you for your consideration.
But with Ivanov back in Moscow, he's out of the picture.
So, there's no need to stop publication of any story
Miss Keeler is prepared to tell.
Publish and be damned.
Hollis.
I trust this all remains in the strictest confidence.
This business between Christine--
Between Miss Keeler and myself.
That is rather the point of us.
Don't you think it needs taking in a bit?
That's the style, Chrissie.
That's how they're wearing it.
Oh!
Been shopping?
Little something from us, for Johnny Edgecombe's trial.
Lovely.
We have got to improve Christine's image,
now we've signed her up.
Very nice.
Want you girls looking your best in court!
Don't remind me.
Makes me feel sick every time I think of it.
You'll be fine!
We can have a little rehearsal if you like.
You in the witness stand, me being the barrister.
Oh, bags, I be the judge.
It'll be just the same as the magistrates, won't it?
Just them asking about Johnny shooting me.
'Course, yeah.
You're a bright girl, Just answer the questions,
but think about everything else we've talked about.
No harm slipping in a bit of Profumo, bit of Ivanov.
Get everyone dying to read the full story.
They are going to love you.
Darling, I love it. Wait here for a second.
Someone would like to show you the picture he's drawn.
For god's sake, is it possible to have a moment of privacy?
Sorry.
Sorry to be a bear.
Little baby.
Just you and the drug squad, is it?
You've got a cheek, Stephen,
telling tales about me to police.
I could say much the same thing.
Thanks to you and Mandy, poor Sergeant Burrows seems to think
Wimpole Mews is a cross between the Kremlin and a Soho knocking shop.
I never said anything that wasn't true.
Life's too short to bear grudges, little baby.
Shall we call it quits?
Look, I thought since you wouldn't listen to me
about the amount of hemp you've been smoking,
a word from the law might set you right.
But I accept it's none of my business.
A coffee, please, doll.
- Coming right up. - Unless you're cutting down.
The photos I have of Cliveden, the ones of Eugene,
of him with you, with Jack...
Did you take them from Wimpole Mews?
I've been nowhere near Wimpole Mews.
Maybe Eugene took 'em. Try asking him.
He's gone.
You haven't heard?
Recalled to Moscow!
He didn't even telephone to say goodbye.
Are you joking?
Poor you, Steve, everyone's doing a bunk.
You'll have no friends left if you're not careful.
Here you are, love.
Maybe Eugene wanted the photos to remember you by.
Jack.
Is he angry with me?
No one is angry with you, darling,
but before Johnny's trial, Jack would very much like
to discuss an alternative to your story in the Sunday Mirror.
What? Shut me up you mean?
Why are you on his side?
It's not a question of sides.
Why cause unnecessary trouble for Jack or for yourself?
Why can't everyone have what they want?
I don't know! You say one thing, Paul says another.
It's all getting a bit...
To be honest, I feel like I'm having words put in my mouth.
By the papers, I mean.
Well, there you are. Trust me, little baby.
The last thing Jack wants is to see you out of pocket.
You may be in the best position of all.
Missionary?
Having your cake and eating it.
_
I'm free Friday.
Got the night off.
Friday might be tricky.
I'll have to keep you posted on that.
Aren't you going to open your present?
You distracted me!
Oh.
Lovely.
Really nice.
- Thanks. - Well, I hope you like it.
It's hard to know what to give you, darling.
I told you, you don't have to give me anything.
You're a sweet girl.
My mum...
Well, she hasn't got much.
I like to help her out, you know.
Send her a bob or two, when I can.
It's like trying to conduct an affair in the middle of St. Pancras station.
Have you ever thought of taking a place of your own?
You offering?
Perhaps I am.
I'll drop you a line about Friday.
If there was no affair,
why are you seeking a financial settlement with this young woman?
She has me cornered, Derek.
The story could scupper me entirely.
My career, my family. Quite apart from anything else,
I can't put my poor wife through it.
Quite. But, erm, the firm's not inconsiderable reputation
is based on our success in prosecuting libel cases.
If the story's untrue,
as your solicitors, we could warn the newspapers.
Yes. But it's not just the story,
it's this wretched trial!
If the poor girl is primed
to parrot Fleet Street's lies up there on the witness stand,
then every newspaper in the country's free to report on what she said
without any fear of libel whatsoever.
And mud, as they say, sticks.
She may as well book a night at the Palladium.
Very well.
Mr. Profumo is mindful of the fee your client will forgo
if she withdraws her article from the Sunday Mirror.
Yeah, it's not just the article.
If Christine agrees to keep quiet about everything that happened,
she's going to be giving up a lot of other opportunities coming her way.
We're looking at a sum that takes account of that.
My client appreciates the toll this matter has taken on Miss Keeler,
it would be reasonable for her to take a
holiday directly after John Edgecombe's trial.
We intend to provide funds for this and her other expenses,
as long as Miss Keeler agrees to remain incommunicado.
Incommunicado?
There will be no further press interviews
or other contact with the press
after John Edgecombe's trial.
A long holiday the minute it's over, out of the country.
And no further association with Marilyn Rice-Davies.
You've got to be joking!
That's a lot to ask, Derek.
Christine will be walking away from a hell of a lot if she agrees to all this.
They're considering a sum.
Excellent!
It's not fair, though. I mean, it happened to me, I was there!
Am I supposed to keep my mouth shut forever?
No one's saying that. A year or two.
- God! - Maybe a few months.
What's a few months?
But me and Mand not seeing each other,
why do they want to split us up?
You're a dangerous combination, you two.
I need to give them an answer, Chris.
Do you want the money or not?
You should see where Jack lives. It's like Buckingham Palace!
If I could buy my mum a house as nice as even one room of that place,
it might be worth it.
Three thousand.
Half of that, you could easily buy your mum a place.
You really think they'll pay that?
You said it, Profumo's loaded.
It's not just giving up the eight hundred from the article, Chrissie.
They want you out of the country right after Johnny's trial,
plus future income.
He probably spends that on cufflinks.
Five thousand.
Atta girl.
Miss Keeler's representative says that she's asking for five.
Yes. I think that should be fine.
It might be cleaner for Doctor Ward's people
to handle the payment, don't you think?
Mum? Mum, I've got some good news,
thought I'd tell you in person.
No, I'm not telling you, I'll tell you when I see you!
Good news.
Yeah, yeah, it's a surprise. A present.
Right, see you soon.
Five grand!
Not too shabby, is it?
We've got to get the money off Stephen's solicitor.
Your boyfriend doesn't want to get his hands dirty.
Oh, well, as long as we get it, who cares?
I'll drink to that.
Hmm, wait.
Will I still have to go to Johnny's trial?
Yeah, of course.
It's just you've been talking to lawyers all day, that's all.
It's not the same as you being a witness, Chrissie.
Well, they all bloody know each other!
You've got that one right.
The wages of sin...
Thanks, Bill.
My representative will handle it from here.
I'm sure Jack will repay me at some point when the smoke has cleared.
Look, I presume Mandy will be following Christine's lead?
Keeping quiet about our, er, friendship.
I have no doubt she will.
Mandy's greatest talent is recognising which side her bread is buttered.
Listen, I am sorry to have brought this trouble to you.
Oh, my dear chap, not a word.
After all the hours of treatment you've given me,
not to mention friendship.
Hmm.
Although for absolute peace of mind,
the letter that Jack sent to Christine, the one that the Mirror have hold of,
he'd like it returned for safekeeping.
Of course.
Er, I'll--I'll see what I can do.
- Oh, please. - Oh, thank you.
Teeth and tits.
Christine and Mr. Profumo...
Stephen was always a good talker.
He could talk the birds out the trees.
Trouble is, once he started, there was no stopping him.
Stephen normally cashes cheques for me.
No worries, I'll handle it.
That's why I'm your manager.
When will we get the rest?
The agreement was the full five thousand, today.
Five thousand?
Well, there's--there's been a misunderstanding.
You said five hundred, surely.
You can't honestly have expected five thousand pounds.
Jack's got a bloody nerve.
Offers me less than what the Mirror wants to pay.
What a lousy trick!
And he won't even talk to me face to face, like I'm shit on his shoe.
Yeah, well, fuck him, Paul! Fuck him!
Five thousand pounds, in return for her silence.
That's blackmail!
I suppose. It's an attempt.
I can only be frank with you, Martin.
The thing is, no one is going to believe for a moment
that you didn't go to bed with the girl.
I know! But it happens to be true!
Surely no one should be able to hold a minister of state
to ransom over a concocted story,
purely because a newspaper wants to force him out of office!
I know you'll have to speak to the PM
if it's a resigning issue.
Steady on.
We need you in government, Jack.
Never more so than at the moment.
Perhaps we should consult the Director of Public Prosecutions.
Hmm.
Hopefully the threat of a blackmail charge
might be enough to keep the little tart quiet.
I don't want to hear his fucking excuses...
I've got to go.
Christine.
I can't wait for this to be in the paper. I can't bloody wait!
Do you want me to go over anything? Add a few extra juicy details?
Didn't, er, Alan tell you?
Sorry, haven't had a chance, guv.
We're, erm...
We're pulling the story.
What?
It's just not worth the risk.
Why?
You've got yourself in a bit of trouble, haven't you, Chrissie?
What right do you have to go marching
into those offices telling him I'm a liar?
Better that, than to see you pay thousands of pounds you don't have
to defend a libel case!
- Or blackmail. - Oh, yeah.
'Cos you're only thinking of me, aren't you, Stephen?
Yes! You seem unable to believe it, but yes, I am!
Jack Profumo is a millionaire many times over,
he has got the best lawyers in the country!
You are out of your depth, Christine!
Who chucked me in the deep end in the first place? You!
- Little baby, it's only money. - No! No more of that.
I've had it with you.
All of you. You're all the fucking same.
_
Good man, Ward.
Bloody-nora!
Ten guineas these cost and I've still got blisters.
Thought you were off to see your mum.
Change of plan.
Thank God nobody looks at your feet.
Except Stephen, maybe I'll pop them through his letter box.
Don't talk to me about Stephen!
I've told you, you can't trust him.
Stephen only thinks about what's good for Stephen.
Anyway, sod the Sunday Mirror.
Once Johnny's trial's over, you'll have papers fighting over you.
You'll be able to name your price.
I wish it was over.
God, if Johnny looks at me the way he did at the magistrate's court...
I've told you. Never look!
Bloody hell, Mand.
Girl, you could have been a hairdresser.
Gives you varicose veins, all that standing.
Anyway, you'll look smart for tomorrow.
Teeth and tits.
Christine. Phone!
It's a bloke. Not Lucky.
Hello?
Hello, this is Christine.
You need to watch out, bitch.
You've betrayed your country.
Be careful what you say in court tomorrow.
Where are you going? Chris!
At least let me put a bit of spray on it.
I need something for my nerves.
Is Darrell about?
Hey, Darrell! What you got for me?
No, nothing for you, girl.
No? Got cash, for a change.
Think I owe you from last time, actually.
Go on back to the West End, Chrissie.
What's going on?
Is it Lucky?
Has he been putting the pressure on?
Brother's a friend. Johnny too.
Tell me something.
You been to see him all the time he's banged up in Brixton nick?
He tried to shoot me!
You crazy.
Why d'you think he's in court? He could have killed me!
Lucky says you put a spell on the man, like you tried to put one on him.
Him love you, girl.
He's got a funny way of showing it, hasn't he? Knocking me about.
No other way to keep you,
you soon fly out of Notting Hill.
Yet you always come back.
Why is that, Christine?
Why you never stay?
Everyone looks at a white girl with a black fella, everyone.
You think that feels good? The names you get called?
Anybody here not know about names?
Why was Edgecombe different?
If that's why we cannot be together.
"White girl with a black fella."
You don't think things through.
You change your story.
How's a man meant to know where he stands with you?
I haven't changed my story.
I've tried telling you--
asking you nicely to leave me alone, but it never bloody works.
If you didn't care about the names with him,
why did it matter going with me, Chris?
Why you with Edgecombe?
- I don't know! - She don't know.
Don't know her own mind, you know.
Stop twisting what I'm saying! That's what you do.
I wanted to be with Johnny, alright?
I don't want to be with you.
Why you do it to me, Christine? Hey?
Why you do it to me?
Why are you in my head?
Better go now, Chrissie darling.
There was nowhere left for me to run to.
Not Notting Hill, not Stephen's.
How much, darling?
Piss off, you disgusting old git! Or I'll call the police!
- Go on! Piss off! - Alright.
No safe place in the world.
You sure about this, Chrissie love?
You could get in trouble.
Definitely.
Mr. John Edgecombe is being tried for an attempted murder
at the Old Bailey today.
In an unexpected turn of events, the key prosecution witness,
twenty-year-old model, Christine Keeler,
has failed to attend the trial.
The authorities have been unable to contact Miss Keeler
and her whereabouts is currently unknown.
Mr. Edgecombe is charged...
Yeah.
When am I gonna be taken up?
Hello.
Can I get some information here?
Where's Christine, Mandy?
Oh, I haven't got a clue! Sorry, boys.
Will you be giving evidence against Mr. Edgecombe today?
Well, that's what I'm here to do!
And I always do as I'm told, you know me!
You think justice will be done today, Lucky?
I don't think there'll be no justice, not without Christine.
She's the reason for all this, not Edgecombe.
Have you seen Johnny, Mr. Gordon?
He cut me, you can see what he did.
But I feel sorry for the man, I really do.
He only done it for Christine. And I know how that feels.
Strong feelings. Strong feelings!
The judge has decided to proceed.
What? Without Christine?
Is that allowed?
It's an unusual decision,
given Miss Keeler's the principal prosecution witness.
But it means the case against you becomes very flimsy, Mr. Edgecombe.
Your barrister is confident.
It's good news!
Being a long time since I had any of that.
Shall we?
Shit.
You know, maybe Christine was thinking about me all along.
Uh-hum.
You know, can't stand to see me put away.
It never made sense to me.
How--how she turned. She knew how I felt about her.
I tell you, man, the bitch be crazy!
You can never guess what she's gonna do.
_
What on earth's this?
_
Did you really offer the PM your resignation?
No, of course not.
That's the usual codswallop.
Vee, as though I wouldn't tell you.
You know how much Beaverbrook hates the PM.
It's a pathetic attempt to stir things up.
Sexy girl, don't you think?
Hmm?
Well, if you like that sort of thing.
For God's sake!
Why are you being so prudish?
I mean, she's a sexy girl. Admit it.
Haven't we--?
Is that one of the girls that we met at Cliveden?
Oh, I really couldn't say.
I'll sue the lot of them, Martin.
My pockets may not be as deep as
Beaverbrook's, but they're deep enough.
They will rue the day. I would rather spend my last farthing
than have rags like the Express or the Mirror
dictate how we govern this country!
I wouldn't put it past them to have cooked up
the girl's disappearance themselves,
it would shift a few copies.
- Ah, golly. - Don't you think the timing is rather odd?
Oh, most odd.
I have to tell you, Jack,
there's a school of thought,
that you've got the little baggage out of the way yourself.
Don't be so ridiculous!
Quite.
- Mr. Ward! - Morning!
Have you any details of the disappearance of Miss Keeler?
I can't comment on Miss Keeler.
As far as I know, she's extremely well
and blissfully unaware of all the fuss over her disappearance.
Why was she not in court?
Beautiful day, gentlemen.
Anything to add, anything at all?
Foreman of the jury,
how do you find the defendant on the first count,
wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm?
We find the defendant not guilty.
On the second count, shooting with intent to murder?
Not guilty.
How do you find the defendant on count three,
shooting with intent to cause grievous bodily harm?
Not guilty.
Count four, being in possession of a firearm
with intent to endanger life?
We find the defendant guilty.
Seven years...
Seven years for having a gun on me!
I was fitted up!
Tell my brief to get down here.
I want to appeal. I'm gonna appeal!
Did Johnny get off?
See for yourself.
_
- _ - Seven years!
How'd he get seven years without me even being there to say what happened!
He did have the gun.
He won't get out till 1970!
I thought they'd give him a couple of years tops.
- _ - Oh, my god.
God, Paul, I'm in all of 'em!
What did you think would happen? You're the story, Chrissie.
The only story.
- Stephen! Speaking to the Mirror. - I know.
I thought he only talked to them to get my story pulled.
- _ - Ah! It's all about him!
Cheeky bastard.
"In a world becoming more complex and ever more cruel,
friendship appears to be a dirty word
and simple human kindness, a crime."
Well, I think Stephen makes a very compelling case.
It's the gutter press, after all.
You know how I've always felt about him.
He's a kind man, Bronwen, and an honourable one.
He's disgusting.
He disgusts me. Makes my flesh crawl.
Your bachelor loyalty...
He's always put it about that he introduced us, you realise.
As though I'm one of his girls.
I don't think Stephen would have said--
To those who don't know the difference between walking the runway in Paris
and opening your legs in a Soho bedsit,
I'm just another of his "models".
Well, that's what your mother's always thought.
You bought me.
This'll just confirm it.
No. Darling!
"I feel sorry for Christine.
Her life was so full of promise,
but she was utterly deaf to my advice
that it would be madness to play fast and loose
with the affections of her attractive, but primitive admirers."
Jesus!
Jack doesn't even get a mention!
Oh, Mand as well.
"It was about this time that Christine began to spend secret afternoons
with a well-known man in the public eye."
Profumo's got his lawyers on to them.
They're all shitting themselves he'll sue.
So Jack's in the clear, but they can make up anything they like about me?
You're not getting it, are you, Chrissie?
I told you, you're the only story.
You're what the papers really want. All this is filler.
The longer you stay away, the more they'll want it.
The more they want it, the more they'll pay.
If you don't think--
I know it's not your style, love, playing hard to get.
It's cool, though. It's all cool, trust me.
What on earth are you doing?
Nametapes for school. I thought I'd rather be busy.
Surely Nanny can do those.
Of course, she'd bloody do them, Jack.
They've named no names.
A prominent minister with a well-known actress wife?
They may as well have published our address.
None of it happens to be true, you know.
The business about the Russian and a security risk is absolute nonsense,
you've met those girls, they can barely hold a conversation.
Well, they're not wanted for their conversational abilities, are they?
Or you tell me.
I swear to you, Val.
I know, in the past...
That's what makes it so bloody unfair.
I'm being tarred with Ward's brush.
You know what he's like, everyone does.
He can't stop talking, the man's got bloody verbal diarrhoea.
Anyway, there it is. You either believe me or you don't.
The car's waiting to take me to the House.
And please, Vee, don't talk to any journalists.
Believe it or not, I'm not a complete idiot.
George, you know I'm with you all the way on this business,
but we need to give it proper thought.
I've thought about nothing else, I assure you.
Obviously, Profumo's been putting it away like a sailor on shore leave,
but let's face it, so have half of our lot,
probably including you.
Spare me the details.
I'm just saying, George, if we try to bring the Tories down with sex,
it might go off in our face.
We need to get them on a different angle.
I've waited long enough.
George!
See you in the chamber.
- Do you like dancing? - Yeah, I do.
Is there anywhere nearby, where we could go and dance?
I know a place close to here.
You need to pack, Chris. We've got a flight to catch.
I thought we were here for a few days.
Change of plan. We need to go.
Where?
Madrid.
Hang on, what's in Madrid?
A flight to Paris, then to London.
Then more cash than you've ever dreamed of, love.
Screw a house for your mum, Chrissie.
Money the papers are talking about,
you buy one for her, one for you and a couple spare.
You'll never have to worry again.
How long have we got?
Let's go.
There is not an honourable Member in the House,
nor a journalist in the press gallery,
who in the last few days has not heard rumour upon rumour
involving a member of the government front bench!
Who didn't even have the decency to turn up.
I am rightly using the privilege of the House of Commons,
that is what it was given to me for,
to ask the Home Secretary to go to the dispatch box,
he knows the rumours to which I refer relate to a Miss Christine Keeler
and a Member of the House of Commons,
and categorically deny, on behalf of the
Government, the truth of these rumours.
Christine!
My Honourable Friend, the member for Dudley,
is determined to enlarge these rumours.
- Yeah! - And what do they amount to?
A minister is said to be acquainted with an extremely pretty girl.
Well, I would have thought that was a matter for congratulation!
Christine!
My Honourable and Learned Frien says that if it is simply a case
of a minister having been found with a pretty girl,
good luck to him!
Quite right.
But what if there is something else of much greater importance?
Yeah!
What if a perversion of justice is at stake?
The press is at this moment pursuing the question
of where Miss Christine Keeler has gone,
the missing "call girl", the vanished witness.
Surely the honourable lady should tell
us where this rumour is coming from,
other than from herself.
I have seen it stated in no newspaper.
I have seen it suggested nowhere until this evening.
Bugger off! She's with The Express!
All I can say is that my honourable and learned friend
must be the only person in the House,
perhaps in the country,
who has not heard it mentioned!
A conspiracy of silence may be convenient for people in high places,
but is not in the public interest.
The press has its faults. So have we.
The press has a role. And so have we.
The press commits scandals. Well, so do the government!
Jack, Jack, wake up.
You've got to wake up.
- Why? What? - The phone.
- Hello. Hello. - Jack, Martin here.
We need to speak to you.
- Martin, what on earth? What? - We're sending a car.
When?
- Do you know where she is, Jock? - I have absolutely no idea.
We need to lance this boil.
We'll draft a statement,
you'll make it in tomorrow's session.
Today's.
- Indeed. -That bastard Wigg's been gunning for me for months!
And Castle.
It's absolute concoction!
There's been some sort of conspiracy, or security breach,
It's nothing short of ridiculous!
Maybe, but we need to end it here,
before Labour tears us limb from limb.
Does the Prime Minister know about all this? Have you spoken to him?
He wants to sign off on the statement when we're finished.
This letter the papers mention...
You call the girl "darling" in it--
They don't actually have the letter.
My wife's an actress, for God's sake, everyone's "darling".
Once and for all, Jock, did you fuck her?
No.
Thanks.
I can't come to the flat any more, my darling. It's too risky.
- Is it your job? - Yeah...
In a manner of speaking.
It must be amazing, being so important.
You're a sweet girl.
Perhaps I could put you up somewhere. Away from Ward.
I like living with Stephen.
We have a laugh.
Besides, I'd get lonely on my own.
I'm just used to people being round. That's all.
Yeah, me too.
Public school. The army.
It's a tricky old business.
Yeah.
Better in a bed, really.
For your stockings.
- I don't want-- - Or your mum.
Thanks.
I'll see you around then.
Bye, darling.
As your solicitor,
I'm happy with this.
Legally speaking.
Must we keep the piece about the girl?
It sounds so bloody cheap.
Yes, absolutely, Jack.
This is my last opportunity,
as principal law officer, as well as your friend...
The House will accept this as your personal statement,
absolutely without challenge.
If anything in there is untrue, Jock,
and you're lying to the House,
you'll be exposing yourself to blackmail for the rest of your life,
and violating one of this country's most sacred institutions,
committing an act of the very gravest dishonour.
Then I have nothing to fear.
We're heading to the airport in a couple of hours.
Yeah, we'll be back in London tonight.
Nah, don't worry, dead to the world.
Yeah, it's all going smooth as silk.
Just tell 'em to get the studio ready and we're sorted.
You leave her to me.
I say jump, she says how high, mate.
Okay, okay, cheers.
The Express are putting you upin a proper hotel when we get back to London.
Your mum's already there.
My mum?
Don't worry, you won't have to share. They've signed her up.
She's got an angle, might as well make a few bob for herself.
This is just the beginning, Chrissie, you can name your price.
Fuck the Mirror 's poxy grand.
We're talking thousands, tens of thousands.
Twenty-five percent.
Sorry?
It's not fair, you taking half.
Twenty-five per cent of whatever I'm earning.
- Sounds more like it to me. - Okay.
Steady on, love, you can't just pluck a figure from thin air!
You did.
It's my life you're selling!
If you don't like it, Paul, I'll find someone else to be my manager--
Ey, ey, I've done everything for you, girl.
You wouldn't be here without me.
Get off.
Now!
Okay, then...
Twenty-five it is. We don't want to fall out.
Mr. Speaker, I would like to take this opportunity
to make a personal statement to the House,
regarding the disappearance of Miss Christine Keeler.
I last saw Miss Keeler in December 1961,
I have not seen her since.
Any suggestion that I was in any way responsible for,
or involved with the absence of Miss Keeler
from the trial of Mr. John Edgecombe at the Old Bailey
is entirely and wholly untrue.
My wife and I first met Miss Keeler
in July 1961, at a house party at Cliveden.
Amongst the guests attending there were a Dr. Stephen Ward,
whom my wife and I already knew slightly,
and a Mr. Yevgeny Ivanov,
an attaché at the Russian Embassy.
The only other occasion upon which either
I or my wife had met Mr. Ivanov
was briefly at an official reception at the Russian Embassy.
And both myself and my wife had a standing invitation
to visit Doctor Ward at his home.
Between July and December 1961,
I met with Miss Keeler on about half a dozen occasions
at Doctor Ward's flat,
when I called in to see him and his friends.
Miss Keeler and I were on friendly terms.
There was no impropriety whatsoever
in my acquaintanceship with Miss Keeler.
And I shall not hesitate to issue writs of slander and libel
should any scandalous allegations be made or repeated
outside of this House.
- Sir? - Any comment, sir?
You did well.
I've never been prouder of you.
Shit!
Remember, don't give it away.
Stick to what Profumo said for now, nothing happened.
Here we go, enjoy it!
Christine! Christine!
Will you be seeing Mr. Profumo whilst you are here?
Christine! Christine!
Christine has nothing to say, fellas. You'll have to read the details this Sunday.
What Mr. Profumo said is correct.
I have not been in his company since 1961.
One more please! Christine! Please! Christine!
And just like that, I was someone else.
A very important person indeed.
This is you here. This gent will look after you.
- I just got to make a few calls. - Who to?
Nothing to bother yourself about. You go and freshen up.
Go on! Order what you like, put it on the room.
I'll be back in a bit!
Hello, Mum.
Oh. You've caught the sun.
Your nose will peel something rotten.
You don't have to do that, Mum.
No, I know, they do it for you, every day, Chris.
I feel like the Queen!
Let me run you a bath.
You must be shattered.
Thanks.
Hello?
Congratulations, little baby.
You're the most famous woman in England.
God, Stephen, you've got some brass balls.
Give me one good reason I should speak to you,
after everything you've done.
How do you know I haven't been working
iOn your best interests all along?
Because you haven't!
Who do you think was paying the bills in Spain?
Paul was, he cashed a cheque--
What are you saying? Are you saying it was you?
I can neither confirm nor deny.
As I have always told you,
in this life you should aim to have your cake and eat it.
Look around you, little baby.
Didn't I always say you'd go far?
How does it feel?
I don't know.
It doesn't feel real.
It feels like a dream.
I wasn't me anymore, scruffy Chris from Wraysbury.
I was Christine Keeler.
Maybe all a nightmare really is, is a dream that comes true...
My nightmare, and Stephen's, was about to begin.
*CREDITS*