*CREDITS*
I've been asked by the ladies and gentleman
of the Parish Missionary Circle
repeatedly, they are quite the persistent bunch,
to remind you that they are holding a charity auction tomorrow.
Now, as the saying goes,
"He who has no charity deserves no mercy",
and believe me, they will be utterly merciless
if you do not hand over your money.
As always, if you need to talk to me about anything,
bar yesterday's terrible football results,
we are a close-knit community
and my door is always open.
- Thank you for coming. - Thank you, Vicar.
Unmitigated disaster.
Mrs Chapman promised us a dozen cakes for the auction.
- Do you know how many she's made? - Less than a dozen?
The situation with Sylvia is fubar.
Yesterday, she left the house without wearing her girdle.
- No girdle, Will. - No cakes, Will.
And what is a cake stall without cakes?
- Just a table. - That was wonderful. You were wonderful.
I was so moved by it.
The importance of what you're doing, the gravitas of your role.
Victoria sponge, cherry Bakewell, Battenberg.
Eleanor has become positively fascistic about this event.
Poor Eleanor, her husband's quite deaf.
She says the entire thing's driving her to drink.
- What doesn't drive her to drink? - Daniel!
I'd love to pick your brains about following in your footsteps.
- Absolutely. - You need to speak to her, Will.
- Absolutely. - We need 12 cakes, Will.
Absolutely.
The section in the middle was just long and boring...
- Making your escape, Vicar? - Cover me, will you?
I don't know how you put up with my wife and her friends.
Those damnable women blathering on.
All part of the service, Mr Hughes.
The way they all moon around that Daniel fella.
Dansy the Pansy I call him.
Dansy the Pansy!
Must have taken you hours to come up with that.
Oh, Lord, incoming.
One last thing, Will...
It's never one last thing with our wives, is it, Adam?
You will say a blessing in the auction, won't you?
Nothing like a good prayer to guilt the sinners into donating.
Absolutely. I'd be happy to.
Bonnie.
- She certainly is. - Very pretty.
- Single? - We're friends.
But don't let the truth get in the way of a good bit of gossip.
Look at you doing your vicaring.
- They laugh at everything you say? - I am pretty hilarious.
I think it's more likely the dress.
- Now, Bonnie Evans. - Yes, Reverend Davenport?
What do you know about cakes?
- God damn you, Mrs C. - Blasphemy, Vicar.
She hasn't worked once this week. I'm cooking, I'm cleaning.
- Nothing. Ah-ah! - Ooh!
Leaving a grown man to look after himself, it's outrageous.
Ah!
Just cut the burnt bits off.
It's all burnt bits.
- Knife. - Er...
Brandy.
Not sure how that's gonna help.
Oh!
I did actually come here for a reason, you know.
Oh, not just my scintillating company?
That too, obviously.
I'm worried about Cath.
She's really sad and mopey.
- Oh, poor Cath. - How's George?
- Good morning. - Oh.
- It's nearly two. - I know.
If you need me, I'll be in bed.
We need a thing.
You're gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.
No, you know when you're in the army and you make like a plan.
- An operation. - Exactly.
Operation get Cath and Geordie back together
cos they're meant to be
and it's making them miserable that they're not.
That's catchy.
- They love each other. - Of course they do.
They just need to be reminded that love is a very splendid thing.
Like the song.
Many splendored thing.
Really?
Yes.
But that doesn't even sound like a word.
Splendored?
Splen-do red?
What?
Flour.
Oh, Lord, not again!
Oh... Ah.
- Hail, fine fellows. - How now, Leonardo.
That's just a little thing we do.
Jim's interested in becoming a curate.
I thought you could shed some light.
Wonderful. Yes, of course.
Being a priest is about serving God.
It's about patience, tolerance...
- Mrs C, what are you doing here? - Tolerance.
- It's about kindness to others. - Are you trying to annoy me?
Cos you're doing a bloody good job of it.
- Kindness to others. - You do remember that you work for me?
I'm taking a hiatus.
Perhaps it would be helpful if you told Will
why you're taking a hiatus.
I'm no longer a believer.
She and God had a falling out.
God lost.
You couldn't have lost your faith after you baked 12 cakes?
- So selfish. - I'm selfish? I'm the selfish one?
God deserts us all in the end.
Put that in your little book.
You don't happen to have a dozen cakes lying around, do you?
- Reverend. - Hello, ladies.
I've brought you a little something.
It's, er, baba ghanoush.
Baba ga-what?
I'm gonna have to take your word for that.
Oh, gird your loins, she's on the warpath.
Natalie. What did I say?
High and taut.
High and taut. What does that look like to you?
Low and slack.
Nobody likes their bunting low and slack.
That girl, I can't hold my tongue any more.
- William, can I have a brief word? - I doubt it.
I just want to walk you through your movements.
Ladies, attention, please, a quick run-through.
Will, you stand here.
I introduce you, you pray, pray, pray,
string quartet, play, play, play,
and then me.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen," then I show them the auction prizes.
Good haul.
The prizes will, of course, be on the stage
so... curtain!
Natalie.
Applause and into the auction.
- Any questions? - Neil!
I leave you alone for one morning.
Neil Hughes, local electrician.
And that's his wife.
Grace. Grace, this is my friend, Inspector Keating.
Why are there never enough damn saucers for the cups?
Look, why don't we get you home?
- Let's cancel the auction. - No.
I-I have to keep going. I need to keep busy.
When was the last time you saw your husband?
Here last night. Neil was still fixing the lights
when I left with the girls from the missionary circle.
- What time was that? - Seven.
And you spent the rest of the evening on your own?
When I woke and he wasn't there, I didn't think anything of it.
If he works late, he'll often sleep in the van.
Thank you, Grace.
Larry.
- Boss? - Round up the charity ladies for questioning.
- Geordie? - Mm?
God speed.
- He was a wonderful man. - Wonderful.
- Some of the time, at least. - Do anything for anyone.
- Absolutely anything. - For a fair price.
- He fixed your kitchen light. - Didn't ask for a penny.
Let Natalie lodge at his house for gratis.
Well, two shillings a week.
Was it a heart attack, Inspector?
My husband had a heart attack.
- Oh! Keeled right over in the gooseberry patch. - Stone-cold dead.
Gooseberries were never the same after that.
Right! Thank you, everybody out. Let us do our job.
I wouldn't be surprised if they talked him to death.
- Anything stolen? - Nothing, boss.
No sign of forced entry, either.
So he's fixing the light, slips, falls backwards...
And gets a head wound like that?
He's been hit with something sharp.
Murder?
Almost certainly.
- Get anything in here checked for blood and fingerprints. - Boss.
What did you think of him?
He was... fine.
You didn't like him.
I always thought he was a bit arrogant. Pompous.
Sounds like a charmer.
Let's check his van.
How well do you know them?
More than I'd like to sometimes.
- The wife? - Nice. Happily married.
Lucky her.
Aye-aye.
Looks like someone tried to break in.
What about the others?
Er, well, Eleanor Ingram, rich, gossip.
Nothing brightens a room like her absence.
Natalie Be no it, French undergraduate,
quiet, studious.
And Kathleen Wilson, a widow.
Uptight, pious.
Uptight and pious, you say?
Bloody hell.
Neil developed them himself.
He said no-one ever need see them but us.
Well, now your vicar and the local constabulary.
What must you think of me?
Well, er...
I never thought you were the type to have an affair.
Neither did I.
Middle aged, a widow.
I mean, to all intents and purposes, I'm invisible.
He made me feel...
noticed.
How long was it going on for?
Well, there were a few...
Conjugal visits.
He said he was falling in love with me.
He took the photographs
and then nothing.
You must have been desperate to get these back.
How desperate?
Enough to try and break into his van?
Yes.
- Enough to attack him? - No!
I left with the other girls.
Then I went back to talk to Neil.
I wanted him to destroy them.
Neil.
He was already dead.
He'd fallen from the ladder and dropped his hammer.
I thought I could use it to break into his van.
But I couldn't get in.
So I left.
I left him there.
Can anyone verify your movements?
No, I live alone, Inspector.
I was a joke to him.
That's what hurts the most.
It was all a joke.
A widow offering herself up on a platter.
A husband cheating on his wife.
- Gives the wife motive. - I don't know.
I just can't see her killing anyone.
- You didn't see this, either. - Don't.
- And this one is particularly vivid. - Geordie, please.
- Do we have a murder weapon? - We do, boss.
And the weapon is?
The tool box.
Blood and hair were found on the edge here.
Quite a hefty weight when you clonk that on someone's bonce.
- Good work, Larry. - Really?
Really. Any background on the victim?
Here you go. Neil Hughes.
Arrested for larceny three months ago.
Neil was stealing?
A wallet went missing at the cricket club. He's umpire there.
Some congregation.
Breaking commandments all over the shop.
All charges were dropped, but apparently it caused quite a stir.
No-one told me.
I'm beginning to think you're the last to be told anything.
So, we have a wife, no alibi,
a mistress, no alibi.
Mm, and some pictures I'm trying desperately to erase from my memory.
Oh, nice catch.
- Mr Davenport. - Natalie.
- I didn't know you worked here. - Surprise, surprise.
I have to pay my way for university somehow.
We're hoping to talk to someone about Neil Hughes,
the theft he was accused of.
Then you can speak to me. I was the one who reported him.
The team was playing against Chesterton,
the wallet was left on the side.
Neil was the only person alone in here.
When the wallet turned up again, I felt terrible.
You lodged with Grace and Neil.
Two years, they were wonderful to me.
- And yet you accuse him of theft. - Oh, it was a misunderstanding.
Was that when you moved out?
I couldn't very well stay after that, could I?
Does Neil have a locker?
Yes, erm...
It's this one.
We can take it from here, Miss.
Think she got him in trouble deliberately?
Why would she do that? She lost her home over it.
It doesn't make sense. Neither does Neil being a thief.
You were saying?
- This isn't stolen? - Hm?
Someone gave it to him.
Positively festive.
Can't let death get in the way of a good shindig.
Grace. How are you?
Drowning in platitudes and casseroles.
People are just trying to be kind.
You recognise this jewellery?
No.
How about the handwriting?
Is it something to do with Neil's death, do you think?
Just to warn you, old chap, my better half's gunning for you.
William!
You missed my speech.
That's a shame.
Is it true about Kathleen?
Photos left nothing to the imagination, I heard.
- Let's not gossip, Eleanor. - No.
Legs akimbo, apparently.
Actually, I'm really starting to warm to her.
Ladies and gentlemen, firstly let us give thanks to Grace
who insisted we carry on today in memory of her wonderful husband.
Now, if you'd like to make a bid,
please write your hopefully extravagant donation
on these slips of paper and put them in here.
Write neatly, please.
It's all for the benefit of the refugees.
- Hi, Will. - Daniel.
Give me those photographs of Kathleen.
Need some quiet time with them, do you?
God or no God, we're showing our faces.
- I'm not feeling very charitable. - Neither am I.
Mingle. Now.
- What are you doing with my coffee maker? - Donating it
- for the orphans. - It's my coffee maker.
You're not the one who has to clean it.
What is wrong with that bloody woman?
Shoddy composition, out of focus.
I don't think Neil was interested in the artistry.
Anything else you can tell us?
Cheap paper.
Poor Kathleen.
She's always been very sweet to me, they all have.
Whereas Neil...
Yeah, you can always tell the bastards.
They're the ones who delight in belittling you in front of others.
Are these all you found?
Just those.
Average on a roll is 24.
My guess is Neil has more of these stashed somewhere.
_
Got your eye on the crystal tumblers?
I'm looking for handwriting that matches this.
Wife seems very calm. Too calm for my liking.
She's in shock. It's grief, Geordie.
It's my coffee machine.
This is the one, this is it.
Same E, you see. Eleanor Ingram.
Why's Eleanor giving jewellery to Neil?
My husband got himself into some financial... bother.
Stock markets?
Gambling. Horses, dogs.
He'd bet on a snail if the returns were good.
- And Neil knew? - Paid off the debt for us.
Got some rather dubious characters off Adam's back.
- That was good of him. - But you couldn't repay him.
My husband hasn't yet learned how to quit while he's ahead.
So you had to give him your jewellery instead.
- It's just belongings. - Your belongings.
I wouldn't blame you for being angry.
At my husband, yes.
But Neil, no.
Where were you the night Neil died, Mrs Ingram?
- At home. - Anyone with you?
- Adam was out. - Darling, there you are.
Is everything all right?
Everything's fine. Everything's always fine.
That's what you want to hear, isn't it?
I think someone's had a little too much punch.
I think you'd better come with us.
- You too, sir. - I don't understand.
You owed a dead man money which makes you a suspect, Mr Ingram.
I want to speak to your superior.
Oh, don't make me arrest you.
I didn't do it, Grace. You do believe me, don't you?
There's one thing that doesn't make sense to me.
Aside from our presence here?
Why not use your jewellery
to pay off your husband's debts in the first place?
Give it to these dubious characters you mentioned.
These were my mother's.
I thought you said they were just belongings.
I am more than capable of managing my own finances.
Are you?
Are you, Adam?
Don't you see? This is just another problem we don't talk about.
We talk about everything.
Aside from our marriage, our finances, your handicap.
Don't use that word. You make me sound inadequate.
- I don't mean it like that. - I work, I provide for you.
And then you lose it all at the bloody bookies.
OK, I clock off in half an hour,
so how about you two stop bickering...
and you tell me exactly what happened last night.
- How are the Ingrams? - Unforthcoming.
I put them in the cells, that should loosen them up.
Yeah, it turns out your rich, happily married couple
- are neither happily married... - Or rich.
And Kathleen, your pious widow is an out-and-out goer.
Mm. Goes to show, I suppose.
Sometimes the only thing you share with a neighbour is a garden fence.
- Or a husband. - That too.
- Eagle? - Don't you think you should change?
- When have I ever changed to go to the pub? - Indulge me.
Indulge you!
- It's all I ever bloody do. - Will!
- I want you to smell nice. - For who?
- For me. - Are you saying I stink?
Does it strike you as odd that Grace didn't bat an eye
when her husband didn't come home?
Maybe he makes a habit of it.
Seducing some lass or other
under the pretence of fiddling with the light bulbs.
- I thought we were going to the Eagle. - No.
- But we always go to the Eagle. - Not tonight.
I like the Eagle.
Promise me one thing, we're not going to a jazz club.
Are you trying to seduce me?
I've been playing hard to get all this time.
Red wine?
I'd prefer a nice beer at the Eagle.
Bottle of red, please.
Good evening, how are you doing?
What have you done?
You'll be needing this later.
- Over here. - Will?
- George! - Well, how about this.
What a coincidence.
Christ on a bike.
- Took the words right out of my mouth. - Are you eating?
No, we just came to admire the decor
- Is this table free? - Course it is.
How about we push them together?
I'd like to do the same to your heads.
Do you mind, Cath?
Do you mind, Geordie?
Would it matter if we did?
There we go.
Thank you.
This is great. Isn't it great?
And have anything you want, my treat.
Fill it right up to the top.
The lady and I will be needing another bottle.
Like the gentleman says, keep 'em coming.
Thank you.
Thank you, Frank.
Who knew there was such poetry in the life cycle of a house fly.
Awful, bloody awful.
- Who's next? - That wasn't poetry.
Just because I speak like this...
doesn't make it a poem!
I might as well get up there and read my bloody shopping list!
A pint of milk,
Cheddar...
CHEESE!
Crusty white loaf!
I've overlooked your moods, I've even overlooked your lack of girdle,
but now you've finally gone too far and do you know why?
Because I had to listen to a poem about a house fly?
No, because you haven't told Jack about the cancer.
You haven't told Will.
You have to tell them.
How do I find the words?
We'll find them together, shall we?
So, where was your first night out?
I know. I know this one, fish and chip shop.
They walked for hours and kissed in the moonlight.
Then he was sick in a bush.
- Oh, that was bad fish. - It's cos you drank like one.
Who was sick on our third date?
I was pregnant, Geordie.
Er, what about your wedding?
Oh, gorgeous.
Cath looked amazing.
- Didn't she? - Lovely, mm.
He was hungover.
Weren't exactly on your best form.
I was pregnant, Geordie.
Mm, this is so good. You have to try some.
Only if you try a bit of mine.
Mm!
- I've died and gone to heaven. - Oh, that is... mwah!
Do that again.
- I can't carry that off, can I? - No.
- Ridiculous. - Astoundingly so!
Didn't you have something for Cathy, Geordie?
Ooh.
Money for the weekly shop?
I gave you money for the weekly shop.
No, I meant the other thing.
Oh, wow, what's this?
And he remembered opal's your favourite.
How sweet is that?
- I can't take it. - Why not?
Why not?
Man gives you jewellery, generally means one thing.
- What's that? - It's transactional.
You give me this, you want something in return.
Like what?
Sex, generally.
I can't just do a nice thing for no reason?
Based on your previous record, no.
How about this? Keep the necklace, I don't want to have sex with you.
How about this? You keep the necklace
and I don't wanna have sex with you either.
- We thought it would help. - Well, you thought wrong.
Sorry, Bonnie.
There's no point wasting it.
Neil asked for money first.
- Yes. - Then you gave him the jewellery.
He didn't ask for anything else?
A transaction.
Sex, perhaps?
You really do have a sordid mind.
Neil was a good man.
One of the few who didn't refer to my being deaf as a handicap.
He said he'd wipe the debt if...
we had one night together.
- And you said yes. - Of course she didn't.
Just one night, he said, and it'd be the end of it.
But it wasn't the end of it?
He said he'd tell Adam if we didn't make it a regular arrangement.
I couldn't...
I couldn't do it again.
So you tried to pay him off with this.
- You slut. - Mr Ingram.
It was your mess, Adam. Sit down.
I was cleaning up your bloody mess like always!
Why didn't you tell me?
Because you'd do what you always do,
you'd bury your head in the sand.
I did it for us, Adam.
I did it for you.
That bastard.
The bastard!
I know.
- I think it was a good plan. - It was a good plan.
I think it was the best plan ever thought up by man.
Trojan horse was a good one.
- And that one worked. - True.
- The intention was there. - We had good intentions.
Really good intentions. How lovely are we?
Very lovely.
Very, very...
very lovely.
Let's go to your jazz club.
Oh, sod it, let's just go back to your place.
OK...
Wait, wait, wait. I... I...
I don't think you want to do this.
Don't I?
You're a widow. You're still grieving.
And back down to earth.
I just think you'll regret it in the morning.
I don't understand you.
One minute you're,
"Oh, Maya, I just want to get you into bed and kiss you all over."
- And then the next... - Maya was different.
- Why? - Well, she was...
It was only about sex.
Why can't this be only about sex?
Because you're you.
I'm me?
Great, that's fantastic.
- Bonnie... - I don't wanna boast or anything,
but I'm really good at it.
I just think you'll regret it.
Oh, my God, you're vicaring me.
You're vicaring me like one of those women.
- No, I'm not. - That's all I am to you, isn't it?
Is just a widow to be vicared.
No, you aren't. I think... you're amazing and...
- and kind. - Urgh, kind.
Kind?
At least let me walk you home.
Thank you for not having really great sex with me.
Bonnie.
Oh, hallelujah, she finally turns up.
Come and sit down, Will.
I have cancer.
Tumour in my womb.
I've seen a doctor.
I'm getting treatment.
And I'm going to get better.
Erm...
So sorry.
Doctors can work wonder nowadays, can't they? Perform miracles.
He's very good, the doctor. Very competent.
You told Leonard but you didn't tell me?
How did I not see it? I should have seen.
You're not God, Will.
I just assumed she was being her usual annoying self.
Well, she was.
It's what I do, though, isn't it?
Make assumptions.
You can't make this your fault, Will.
She's gonna be OK.
Isn't she?
I didn't know how to tell you.
You see...
your heart means more to me than my own.
I couldn't bear to break it.
I wish it was me who had cancer.
It should have been me.
- Grace. - Sorry, I'm sure you're busy.
Not at all.
We have the Ingrams in custody.
Your husband was forcing Eleanor to have relations with him.
I know.
Which is why I had to kill him.
We'd been married a year when I found out Neil was having an affair.
He was contrite and said all the right things.
How long before he did it again?
A few months.
I realised it was less painful to turn a blind eye.
What was the final straw?
I saw the photographs.
Hard to turn a blind eye after that, I imagine.
He'd taken them to show his friends.
To laugh over.
When you went to confront him, where was he?
Up the ladder fixing a light.
I was so furious, so humiliated, I hit him.
What with?
I don't remember, I was in such a fury.
He fell.
I could see he was gone.
And for a split second,
I felt something I haven't felt for such a long time.
Something close to happiness.
Grace said Neil was fixing the lights.
He enjoyed humiliating women,
forcing them to do things they didn't want to,
laughing at their photographs.
We laughed at them too.
Oh, give over.
We're not as bad as he was.
Go on then, up you go.
How tall would you say Neil was?
- Shorter than me. - Mm.
Try reaching for the light.
If you can hardly reach for it, he wouldn't have a hope in hell.
He was never up the ladder.
Let me take a look at those.
He harasses Kathleen, Eleanor...
What's the betting there's more women with stories to tell?
There were ten photographs of Kathleen.
What happened to the rest?
Boys have searched everywhere.
At the house, the van.
Let's look again.
It's Natalie, isn't it?
I'd er...
I'd never been with a man before.
Never even been kissed.
What did he do to you, Natalie?
Don't make me say it.
Perhaps if I said it for you, that would make it easier.
Did he force himself on you?
When he was done...
I cried... and he laughed.
He said I'd get used to it eventually.
That I might even enjoy it.
But I cried every time.
You told us you'd seen the photographs.
But you didn't mean the ones of Kathleen, did you?
You meant the ones of Natalie.
Why did you let her lodge with you?
You knew what kind of man your husband was.
You assumed Natalie would be safe with you there.
She had nowhere else to go.
And I watched him, I watched him like a hawk.
When I realised, I found her somewhere else to live.
- I thought he'd leave her alone. - And he did.
Until that night.
I thought they'd never leave.
You accused him of stealing the wallet
to try and get him away from you.
And when that didn't work...
I couldn't stand it any more.
You had a good idea who killed him.
You confessed out of guilt.
I am guilty in a way, aren't I?
A judge will look kindly on her after what he did. Won't he?
I should have done something.
Neil's to blame for all of this.
But if I'd just... just done something.
How well do we know those closest to us?
We think we know them completely.
And yet often, we barely know them at all.
We assume we know what others are like.
What they want.
What's good for them.
We assume we know what they're feeling.
We must learn not to assume but to listen.
Please...
please know my door is always open.
*CREDITS*