I don't suppose "Opportunity" could knock any quieter, could it?!
Didn't think so.
Time for a walk?
Excellent idea.
Stella!
Come on!
Let's not fall out over this!
Lord, Jesus Christ, son of God,
have mercy on me, a sinner.
Cuzzy?
Hildy?
Hi.
CREDITS
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I love this passage.
"Free me, Lord, from eternal death."
- I know the feeling. - It's not that bad.
Come on! It's a bit gloomy.
It's a requiem, Honor!
Maybe next time go for something with more of a tune.
A tune Dad can sing.
Okay! Very nice, everybody!
Any thoughts on the flower contest this year, Stella?
I'm thinking... the final frontier.
The Space Shuttle. Intergalactic travel.
Think of the opportunities for arrangements.
I'm trying, Kath.
Also, with ascension on the horizon,
with Jesus lifting off...
- Ascending. - To heaven,
which is most apt, don't you think?
You've really given this some thought, haven't you?
In case they ask questions at the parish church council.
- It's good to be prepared. - Well, I wouldn't worry.
The PCC is usually run pretty smoothly.
Please! Everyone! It's just a proposal!
It's out of the question.
The church needs a lavatory.
We've managed for centuries without a toilet.
Yes, but I believe change is necessary, Kath.
- Even in the church. - What about the noises?
- Noises? - Noises!
No one wants to hear... sounds
during divine worship.
Where would it go? The lavatory?
There's plenty of room, isn't there?
You could put it in the back.
You mean where our flower room is?
Strictly speaking, it's not your flower room, is it?
Then whose is it?
Jane's... Mrs. Thwaite's right!
I mean, over the years, it's been lots of things.
During the war, I believe that it's had...
Really, Mr. Bowness? Another history lesson?
I'm just saying...
I think we might be getting off the subject!
I am not giving up the flower room.
Well, we'll put it to a vote at next week's meeting then, shall we?
Fine by me.
It's not happening.
It looks like you've got a fight on your hands.
It does, doesn't it?
All set for your open day tomorrow?
Yes. Yes, I think so.
Anthony's been rehearsing his guided tour all week.
I'm looking forward to it. I'm sure it'll be fascinating.
Well! Here's hoping.
Help earn his keep.
Hi, love.
Harry? You okay?
Rev, can you come? It's Dad.
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills
from whence cometh my help.
Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice.
What is it, Ernie?
Forgive me.
For what, Ernie?
Now, you can tell me.
Confession heals, Ernie.
It's God's mercy.
After D-Day...
we was pushing south.
Middle of nowhere.
We rounded this bend.
And there they were.
Some Germans.
Younger than us.
Kids, really.
We rushed them.
And he was too slow.
I stuck my bayonet in him.
In. Out.
In.
Out.
I'm so... so sorry.
I'm here, Dad.
Don't be scared.
I saw you talking to Anthony.
Yeah?
What did he want?
Just something about his solo in the requiem.
Nothing important.
- Rector. - Hello, Kath.
Is everything alright?
I saw you leave with Harry Cobbe earlier.
It was Ernie.
I'm afraid he died earlier this afternoon.
I'm sorry to hear that.
He was a good man.
Lovely evening.
It is, isn't it?
Bye for now.
I met the vicar just now.
Ernie's died.
What are you going to do?
I don't know.
You don't have to keep it a secret anymore.
Only it's not that simple, is it?!
No.
Sorry. I suppose not.
I just need to decide...
What's that?
My results are back.
Hello!
_
And how is that helping, exactly?
I don't want to help. Just want to get past.
So how about moving?
Which is precisely what we would do if only you'd back up.
Listen, missus. You're in a car.
I've got a tractor.
You're the one that needs to move.
Then we have a problem, don't we?
Turn the ignition off! Turn it off!
I can wait all night. Can you?
"Missus."
Alright. Now you're starting to annoy me.
I'd do what she says, Nathan.
You won't win.
- And she fights dirty. - Yeah?
A friend of yours, is she, Reverend?
She's my mother.
Awarded the Nobel Prize for...
I can't see what all the fuss is about.
It's just you weren't meant to move in...
Until next week.
So, by rights, you should still be at Theo's
and I should be having a quiet Saturday.
What do you live on? Air?
- Mother. - There was a change of plan.
Your brother got a job.
"An Inspector Calls" if you're interested.
He's playing Gerald.
Good for Theo.
A world of secrets, lies, and murder
under the veneer of middle-class respectability.
Just my cup of tea.
Now, isn't that better?
You had a few. And later on,
it's "Lunch Time with Gordon Benjamin"
where he'll be bringing you up to date...
Right. What are these?
It's the local rag.
I use them to light the fire.
And they're pretty good for cleaning windows.
"Champton vicar visits victims of gay plague,
says, 'Everyone deserves God's love.'"
Dear me. What were you thinking?
That right now they are suffering
and could do with a bit of compassion.
I meant pale socks with dark trousers.
Socks should match the trouser, not the shoe!
It makes your legs look longer.
Everyone knows that.
Someone could have at least just told me you were coming.
Didn't Theo tell you?
Well, with your brother treading the boards,
it made sense for me to come to you a bit earlier.
It's just not very convenient.
Why? Do you have plans?
Well, then.
- What can't be cured... - Must be endured.
Yes. I remember. Dad used to say it.
- And it stood him in good stead. - Until it didn't.
So what are we gonna do today?
I don't know what you've been doing in here,
but there's a definite aroma.
It's not that bad.
Smells like death, Daniel!
It's just the dogs. Probably the odd hay bale.
It was a gift from Bernard when I arrived.
The smell came with. Sort of a job lock.
"Bernard"?
I think you'll find that's Lord de Floures to you and me.
He's perfectly happy with "Bernard."
Did he actually ask you to call him that?
I think so.
Well, you can't just use their name.
It's far too familiar. You have to be invited.
That's how it's done.
Rank and title, darling. These things matter.
Just follow signs for parking.
Reverend, you can just park up by the house.
Thank you, Edgy.
You're an hour late.
So? No one noticed.
Boy, you better hope not. Because they'd dock your pay.
And don't think I'll make up the difference.
You worry too much, Granddad.
Hey. Listen.
It's good here. We're dug in.
Don't muck it up.
The jousting tournament will be taking place by the lake.
You won't want to miss that.
And for those of you
interested in Champton's more recent history,
"Champton at War: A Guided History" is at 2:00.
A real treat for all you history buffs.
You're presenting the trophy to the champion jouster at 3:00.
And you've got the photo op for the Gazette at 4:00.
Honor wants it to look like this every bloody weekend.
She thinks I ought to open the place up.
Tea rooms and a... bloody gift shop.
Better than turning it into a hotel or conference center.
You asked Honor to help turn things around.
This is a start.
No, it's a bloody noisy one.
Bloody lucrative one if it works.
Yes. Thank you. Margaret.
What would I do without you?
Right. Now where's Anthony?
Getting ready to do his tour thing, I expect.
You know, "Champton at War" and all that.
Yes. Of course. Right.
Well, as soon as he's done with that,
tell him I want to see him, will you?
Rector, when you have a minute,
I'd like to go over something with you.
As you know,
the committee and I have long been concerned
about the flower room and its facilities.
Have you? I don't recall.
And they felt that we should seek funds to improve it
and install a buttery, for teas and whatnot,
thereby enhancing the whole churchgoing experience.
This was never discussed. I'd remember.
It was the standing committee. Didn't I say?
For dealing with those little items
that slip between the cracks of the PCC.
Of course, if this was to go through,
it would scupper any plans to install a toilet.
Would it? I hadn't thought about it like that.
Anyway, I shall be presenting it at the next PCC for a vote
because, unlike your plans, this is already funded.
You've got the money?
A private donation.
I see. And who's it from?
The donor wishes to remain anonymous.
To the rest of the world perhaps, but not to me.
As rector and incumbent.
They were most insistent.
Unfortunately, the rector has a fiduciary responsibility.
He has to be able to account for all sources of funding.
And unless he can, no such proposal
can go before the PCC for approval.
Yes, I'm afraid that's quite true.
And you are?
I'm sorry, Stella. This is my mother, Audrey.
Who appears to be an expert on PCC protocol.
It's amazing what you pick up.
Watch that one, Daniel.
I have a feeling she hates losing.
But, then, so do I.
Alright, boys! Give us a smile!
Come on, John. Let's have you for the Gazette.
Okay. Here we go.
Wonderful. Thank you.
The war came to Champton in a very real way.
The Special Operations Executive, the S.O.E.,
were based here,
and training alongside them was a covert army,
part of a network that stretched across the country.
By day, they were ordinary civilians...
farm workers, clergymen, gamekeepers.
But they were also Churchill's secret weapon.
And should the Nazis invade,
they were to be our last line of defense,
our very own resistance.
These men, nicknamed the Scallywags,
were a secret army... and a well-equipped one, too.
Please feel free to come up and take a look.
Thank you.
Of course, my war was very different,
being on the front line and all that.
You were a member of the Women's Voluntary Service.
You made sandwiches.
To begin with!
You try driving an ambulance during the Blitz
and tell me that's not the front line.
How fearsome.
They weren't mucking around.
Small cells of around eight men
could mount guerrilla attacks on the Germans if they invaded,
blowing up supplies,
booby-trapping roads, killing soldiers
before melting back into the woods,
hiding in a network of secret bunkers.
- Really? - Superbly hidden.
And the only people who knew of their existence
were the Scallywags themselves.
As for the bunkers, well,
we still don't know where most of them are.
You see, there are no records.
But... I'm looking.
Do you think there are some around here?
There's every reason to think so, yes.
It's very exciting.
Can't the Scallywags tell you?
The thing is, if you were invited to join the Scallywags,
you had to sign the Official Secrets Act.
You didn't breathe a word.
Not to friends, family... lovers.
No one knew.
Even today, their identities are a mystery.
See? We knew how to keep a secret then.
Not like these days,
with everyone blabbing away at the first opportunity.
I blame Cilla Black.
Please excuse me.
I have an audience with my cousin.
Doesn't do to keep him waiting, apparently.
You wanted to see me?
Yeah. Shut the door.
I feel like I've been...
summoned to the headmaster's study.
Yeah. Why do you think that might be?
I spoke to a chap earlier, and he said that he went to...
And this was fascinating.
He went to an art gallery in Braunston...
You like art. Perhaps you know it.
Thing is, you'll never guess what he saw there.
Really are a bit of a shit, aren't you, Anthony?
I just... I don't understand why.
I don't understand after all these years,
everything that we have done for you and welcomed you in here.
And when you're in trouble, I've sorted you out.
- I gave you a job. - Yes.
And you've never let me forget it, have you?
You are unbelievable, Anthony!
You have the nerve to take my generosity
- Don't give me that! - And throw it in my face.
Well, enough is enough.
I...
I'm going to report it to the police.
What?
And risk a scandal?
Go to hell, Anthony.
Time to crown the champion jouster.
Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yeah, I'll be right out.
Should we alert the Saint John Ambulance?
I think it's art.
Who on Earth is that?
Alex. It's Bernard's son.
Ooh!
The impossibility of change!
In the face of intransigent history!
Is he soft or something?
Yeah. It must be the inbreeding.
That was painful.
I'll say. Hessian can chafe terribly.
I fancy taking a look at the cake stalls,
- get a sense of my new home. - Really?
You can always judge a place by the quality of their bakewells.
What the hell was that?!
I told you. I tweaked it a bit.
I said you could do it as long as you didn't upset anyone!
It was provocative but tasteful.
I warned you.
Screw up, and you piss me and Pa off.
I can handle Pa.
It's not Pa you should be worried about.
I think I'm actually going to kill him.
- It was strangely hypnotic. - It was a car crash.
I think my mother quite enjoyed it.
Your mother? I didn't know she was here.
Yes. She's moving in with me.
Permanently?
We finally sorted out Dad's estate.
The only way to pay off the list of creditors
was to sell the house, so...
And she couldn't afford somewhere of her own?
It was a long list.
And you're okay with her moving in?
Why wouldn't I be?
You and your mother under one roof?
No, there's nothing that could possibly go wrong there.
I am perfectly capable of living with someone.
Thank you very much.
The dogs don't count.
It'll be fine.
Besides, she has nowhere else to go.
Did you leave any for anyone else?
Rector!
Give me a minute, will you?
Dora got the test results back.
I'm sorry.
The thing is...
she doesn't want any treatment.
Nothing. No drugs. No tubes.
None of it.
She's been through it all once.
She can't face it again.
I can understand that.
All my life...
I've believed if there's a problem,
you assess the situation and you make a plan.
You do something. You know?
You don't just stand by and do nothing.
Why can't she...
I don't know what to do.
They can't tell me when she'll...
She's not in any pain.
It might stay like that for years.
No one seems to know.
But however long she's got...
she wants to enjoy it... here, with me.
Kath, I...
I'll work it out. Thank you.
I didn't really do anything.
You listened.
You're good at that.
You ever thought of doing it professionally?
Times do I have to tell you? I'm not doing this anymore.
You get this done, the quicker you can get back
- to that weird performance art. - I'm not doing this!
Edgy.
Got a little something for ya.
Don't tell His Lordship, though.
You can get a nice pie out of that.
Do it soon, mind. They done half turn quick.
Ma'am.
Good Lord!
- Edgy likes to share his bounty. - Well, it's all gone a bit
"Cold Comfort Farm" for my liking.
Still... explains the smell.
I suppose I could get a couple of pies out of it.
I think I'd rather give it a decent burial in the garden.
Next to all the others.
Besides...
How many more pies you think we can fit in here?
That's why God invented the freezer.
"A," I'm not sure he did.
And, "B," I don't have one.
Which is why you're going to get one first thing Monday.
- Mother. - We need one, Daniel,
especially now there's two of us.
- No, we can't afford to. - Nonsense!
And it works out much cheaper in the long run.
I can batch-cook some of my old favorites.
- Stop it. - Chicken a la king,
cod in parsley sauce, a myriad of hearty soups.
- Please! - All I'm doing...
No, I know what you're doing.
It's the same thing that you've always done.
I have no idea what you mean by that.
You can't just put things right
by rearranging cupboards and batch-cooking some soup.
I'm simply making do, soldiering on.
Is that what you call it?
I'd have thought you'd be pleased.
Pleased?
That I'm not dwelling on the past.
I mean, when you consider the way you behaved...
- Here we go. - I'd be perfectly entitled
- to hold a grudge. - Now, that is not fair!
After everything your father and I did for you.
You can't blame me for Dad!
Do you mind?
Be my guest.
Don't worry.
Angostura bitters and tonic.
Almost like the real thing.
Even so, I'd have thought coming in here...
Would, trigger a relapse?
Let's hope not?
I had no idea Champton House was so important in the war.
Not just the house.
The more I looked,
the more I realized it was the whole community.
It's turned into a bit of a treasure hunt.
Clues everywhere.
And a few memories.
Memories?
Well, I spent a lot of time here.
Bernard was only two years older than me,
so we were more like brothers.
Having adventures. Inseparable.
And then we grow up.
Bernard inherited the title, and I went down to London,
tried my hand at a few things,
but, I'm not very good at, sticking to stuff.
So you decided to come back here?
Well, it was actually Bernard's idea.
And I've ended up disappointing him, as well.
Wasn't deliberate.
No.
No, it never is.
All my fan mail is returned,
but not known at this address.
My wife...
Out where I live in the country, post is really slow.
Good Lord. This week I got a...
I don't suppose "Opportunity" could knock any quieter, could it?!
Our postman committed suicide.
His wife didn't get the note for three weeks.
Just a few letters get through.
I started to read this just before I came out here,
but it's awfully nice.
"Dear Bob, even our dog recognizes you on TV."
Isn't that lovely?
It goes on. It says,
"When your program comes on, he pricks up his ears,
walks to the set, lifts his leg..."
Yeah.
Canon Clement?
DS Vanloo. Braunstonbury CID.
Yes. Hello.
Hello.
Pentel. A P205, if I'm not mistaken.
Nice.
I don't know why I said that.
How can I help?
Yeah. I need to ask you a few questions.
Of course.
And we'll need your clothes, I'm afraid. And a swab.
Right. Um...
Well, the rectory is just down the road.
- And you're sure of the time? - Yes.
My mother had just started watching "Opportunity Knocks."
Bob Monkhouse is one of my favorites.
But not yours?
Not really my thing.
My son is a cultural snob.
Thanks for the biscuits.
So why did you go to the church?
To say night prayer.
Right.
Was there any particular reason why Anthony Bowness
would be in the church at that time?
Not that I know of.
But perhaps he wanted to pray.
Why did you say that?
Because of where I found him.
I assumed that he'd been kneeling to pray.
Right.
You say you saw Mr. Bowness in the pub at about 7:00.
How was he?
He was a bit down, actually.
He said that he'd been a disappointment.
Who to?
Mostly Bernard.
Lord de Floures. His cousin.
Okay. Thank you.
I should go up to the house now.
May I come?
Well, I wouldn't normally...
It's just something like this, people are gonna be scared.
I thought maybe a friendly face...
Anthony had, you know, his problems.
He, um... He went a bit off the rails
when he went back up to London.
He was an alcoholic. He'd only been sober for about eight months.
- Honor! - Well, there's no point in...
He got into a proper mess.
And my father sorted him out.
How?
Well, I paid for him to dry out, and then I, um...
I brought him back up here.
And gave him a job and a place to live.
He worked for you?
Yeah. Sort of. As an archivist.
I got him to research the history of the house during the war.
They're still there.
You sure?
Gin.
Are you letting me win?
Because that's not allowed.
Won't you change your mind?
No.
It's what I want.
And I'd like you by my side.
But if that's too hard...
I'm not going anywhere.
Peas in a pod.
Did Mr. Bowness have any other relationships?
What? Like a girlfriend?
Someone he might confide in?
No.
No. Just us.
And you all got along well?
Yeah. Absolutely.
Right.
When was the last time you saw him?
Well, I think it was probably first thing this morning.
Sorry. It was all a bit of a rush trying to get everything organized.
- Wasn't it later than that? - What?
Only Anthony said that he had a meeting with you
after his tour, which would have been closer to 3:00.
Right. Sorry. No. Yes. You're absolutely right.
Sorry. I, um...
Sorry. I forgot. It's just, um...
This business.
What was the meeting about?
It wasn't really a meeting as such.
We were just discussing financial stuff.
It was nothing important.
Did he mention anything?
Something that might be troubling him?
No.
No, he was the same as always.
You must know quite a lot about everyone living here.
Only what they want to share.
Even so. I think you might be useful.
How do you mean?
Well, as a vicar,
you know these people better than anyone.
You're a way in.
Detective! I thought I heard you!
Why don't you come in for a drink?
You must be exhausted.
DS Vanloo was just leaving.
Actually, there is something else I'd like to discuss.
Marvelous! Come in!
I want to hear everything!
I must admit, when I first arrived,
I thought life was gonna be pretty dull,
but now I'm positively agog.
I was hoping to have a private word.
Yes.
With the vicar.
Let's go into the study.
There is one possibility I haven't considered.
We know the church was in darkness,
and we now know from the blood spatter
that the murderer struck from behind.
Now, there are no defensive wounds,
which would suggest the victim
didn't know what was happening until it was too late.
- That makes sense. - Yeah, but that means
the murderer wouldn't have seen their victim's face, either.
So unless this was a random attack...
possible, but unlikely...
the murderer must have assumed
they knew who they were attacking.
So?
So what if they made a mistake?
A lone man praying in one of the pews,
barely seen in the half light,
but someone the murderer
expected to be there at that time.
Who knew you went to pray before evensong?
Well, it was... it was no secret.
And you did it every night.
So now the question I have to ask you is...
can you think of anyone who might want to cause you...
"The plague is real.
It's God's will.
You should burn in hell."
Does that answer your question?
CREDITS