"123456789-123456789=123456789-123456789=" "To those who appreciate WISTERIA AND SUNSHINE" "Small medieval Italian Castle on the shores of the mediterranean to be Let Furnished for the month of April." "Servants remain." "Write Box Z 1045." "The Times E.C.4" "Thanks, ma'am." "To wounded soldier - sixpence." "Are you reading about the castle and the wisteria?" "What?" "Uh, yes." "Why?" "It just... it seems so wonderful, and it's such a miserable day." "Perhaps that's why it seems so wonderful." "No, no, it is so wonderful." "Wonderful, yes, but that is not worth wasting one's time thinking about." "No, it isn't." "I..." "I believe we are neighbours." "I see you every Sunday in church er.." "Chapel Street, Hampstead but we've never actually spoken." "I'm Mrs. Rose Arbuthnot." "Oh, thank you." "I'm Lotti Wilkins..." "Mrs. Lotti Wilkins." "I don't suppose that means much to you." "Sometimes it doesn't mean much to me, either, but..." "I am Mrs. Wilkins." "I'm sure you are." "I've never really liked the name Wilkins very much." "It's such a small name... with a mean little twist at the end, you know." ""Kins". "Kins"." "It's like a pug dog's little tail, but it is Mellersh's name." "Mellersh Wilkins is my husband, so I'm stuck with it." "Um, he's a solicitor." "He's very handsome." "That must be nice for you." "Why?" "Well, um... because beauty... handsomeness is a gift from God, like any other." "And... if used properly, it can be, well..." "Why don't we..." "Shhht." "Why don't we try and get it?" "Get it?" "Yes!" "Not just say how wonderful it would be and then go back to Hampstead without doing anything about it." "As we have been doing for years and years and years." "But how do you mean, "get it"?" "Rent it." "Hire it." "Have it." "The castle." "The wisteria." "Everything." "You and me?" "Yes." "We'll share." "That way it will only cost half, and you look as though you wanted it as much as I do." "You look so beautiful and so sad." "I'm not sad..." "It's my face." "I can't help it." "My husband says I have the face of a disappointed Madonna." "He has a way with words." "My husband never says a word too much or too little." "Sometimes I think he keeps copies of everything he says." "It's very disheartening." "If you wish for something hard enough, it happens." "We hardly know each other." "But, if we were to go together for a whole month." "I have a small nett that I saved for rainy days." "This is a rainy day, isn't it?" "Lotti, I've told you before about buying flowers." "They are an extravagance of the most blatant kind." "They always die, Lotti." "Then you have to buy more." "I know, Mellersh, but I like the colour, and..." "We're not rich, Lotti." "I own no stocks and shares." "What would happen to you if tomorrow..." "I were to be knocked down by a tram and you were still buying flowers?" "We have to watch every penny, Lotti." "I understand, Mellersh." "You are still recording every purchase in that book I bought you, I hope?" "Yes." "Even the flowers." "Good." "Now... about the party... we should arrive at, um... 8:40, I think." "Yes." "8:30 is too early." "We'd look too eager." "8:45... too late..." "as if we're not interested." "Well, 8:40 it is." "Can't I stay at home, Mellersh?" "All these artists." "There are so many in Hampstead and..." "I never know what to say to them." "Praise them, my dear." "Praise them, and you can't go wrong." "But no one will know I'm there even if I am." "I'm sure your sister won't mind if I don't turn up." "But I would." "As a family solicitor," "I have to be seen as a reliable family man... with wife." "So... if by chance the people I meet at this party, have become discontented with their solicitors, they will exvocate themselves and join..." "Bartleby..." "Bartleby, Bartleby and Wilkins." "For good!" "Excellent sole, my dear." "Mellersh, I've been thinking... have you noticed the um... terrible weather, and I wondered I you would mind..." "Um?" "...apple dumplings." "Would you mind some apple dumplings." "Mind?" "No, I love apple dumplings." "You are serving all my favourites tonight." "You haven't finished your sole." "I am not hungry." "No." "I'll have it." "Temptations, friends." "The devil never sleeps when it comes to temptation." "Of course, II Peter 2 verse 9 tells us," ""The Lord knows how to deliver the godly out of temptations, but he doesn't always bother"." "We should get away for a whole month." "From everything... to heaven." "Did it occurr that heaven is not somewhere else?" "It's here." "Now." "It isn't me." "Heaven is with God." "You see, heaven is within us and in our homes." "Not in mine." "What do you do?" "Is it you?" "It's too late!" "I do." "And I do make it." "And it just isn't." "I see us, you and me, this April in that castle by the sea." "I'm certain of it." "Have you ever seen things in a kind of flash before they happen?" "Never." "I'm sure it must be wrong to go on being good for so long and become miserable." "I can see you've been good for years and years, and you aren't happy." "And..." "I've been doing things for other people ever since I was a little girl, and I don't believe I'm loved any better." "Are you all right?" "You must believe..." "I've never spoken to anyone like this in my life." "I don't know what's come over me." "It's the advertisement." "Yes... and us being so miserable." "There's no harm in simply... asking about it, is there?" "Hello, my dear." "You waited up." "I want to talk to you, Frederick." "I've made you something." "Thank you." "I had enough at the reception." "Yes, I can see." "After all, it was for my book." "You should have been there, my dear." "I missed you." "I wonder." "Of course I did." "I thought about us in Vienna." "Do you remember Vienna?" "Or was it Prague?" "It doesn't matter." "The golden rule is, if you've got yourself in a hole, stop digging." "Drink your milk, Frederick." "It'll settle your stomach." "What do you think?" "People seem to like it." "Frederick... no one should ever write a book God wouldn't like to read." "It's the way I earn a living." "Out of the immorality of fallen women." "They are dead." "Sin never dies, Frederick." "That's rather a depressing thought." "Anyway, I know your views, so I've always been very careful." "You are married to Frederick R. Arbuthnot, gentleman." "Gerald Arundel wrote this and all the others." "Nobody knows it's a pseudonym." "God knows." "God must know an awful lot." "Why doesn't he do something?" "Frederick, I'm thinking of taking a holiday in Italy... this spring, with a friend." "It's a splendid idea." "Yes, that's what I thought you'd say." "It's just what you need." "And for the money..." "I shall be using my own, Frederick." "You only have to ask." "Actually, it all works out rather well, because..." "I shall be out and about promoting my book." "And of course I shall be starting the next one:" "Theodora, The Slave Princess." "Do you think we should go on with this?" "Sixty pounds, Lottie!" "For 60 pounds, plus fares, plus expenses for food and such like... we could buy a great many boots for the poor with that money." "We could advertise for two ladies to join us." "That way it would only cost 15 pounds each." "Plus expenses." "There's something immoral about all this." "Oh, no." "No, thank you." "No." "Excuse me, Mr. Briggs." "We've come in answer to your letter about renting..." "the castle in Italy." "Oh, I do beg your pardon." "I am very sorry, do come in, ladies." "I'm very sorry about the mess, um.. off in a couple of days.." "business, I'm afraid... to Germany, uh, France and Italy." "Here's my card." "But my real love is the, uh... oboe." "Do you play anything?" "The pianoforte." "That's a ticket to the opera, Mr. Briggs." "I do beg your pardon." "I played the flute when I was at school." "I've always thought of myself as a fluty kind of person." "Mr. Briggs, we sent you a letter about renting the castle and you sent us this." "Er, I am mrs." "Arbuthnot and this is mrs." "Wilkins." "Oh, I see." "And er... are the terms satisfactory?" "Yes." "Well, then it's er.. it's settled." "Is it.. or.. em.." "I think I can waive.. references mrs." "Arbuthnot..." "I mean, er, have a good point." "Sixty pounds?" "Oh, in cash." "Well, uh, Mrs. Arbuthnot, cheques are more usual, but, uh... however, I'm richer, and you're happier." "And I've got the money, and you've got San Salvatore, and I think I know which is best." "Well, um... now, here are... all the details... there... yes, there we are... plus... photographs... there we are." "And the er.. spare key... and I'll give you a receipt." "Your, um... your husband is going with you, Mrs. Arbuthnot?" "No." "No." "I'm..." "I'm sorry." "I'd no right to..." "I do understand... sad times... the war..." "Thank you, Mr. Briggs." "Well, I think you'll fit in very well at San Salvatore... there are several portraits of you on the walls." "Portraits of me?" "Madonnas... exactly like you, Mrs. Arbuthnot." "Are they looking disappointed?" "No more than usual." "Rose." "Rose, we've done it!" "We've done it!" "You would've thought that hundreds would have jumped... to the chance of sharing a month's peace and quiet in San Salvatore." "I can't understand why we've only had two replies." "That does not leave us much choice." "I knew them all, you know." "Dear Alfred Tennyson, who pulled my pigtails and said they were too long." "And I sat on Mr. Carlyle's knee." "Oh, how he scowled." "I'm a perfect sharer of your holiday, Mrs. Arbuthnot." "All I wish to do is sit in the shade and remember better times and better men." "I'm very fond of flowers, too, and from what you tell me... in your advertisement," "San Salvatore will be perfect." "I remember spending a weekend with my father at Box Hill." "Who lived at Box Hill?" "George Meredith... the novelist." "Did you know Keats?" "Keats?" "No, I didn't." "And I didn't know Shakespeare or Chaucer either." "Oh, no, of course not." "It's just that, um... it's just that they're immortals, aren't they?" "And I've always thought of immortals as being... um, well... immortal - not having died." "I mean, they're alive, but they're dead.. and and alive." "It's odd." "Very odd." "I thought I saw Keats the other day" " What?" " in Hampstead crossing the road to his house where he lived." "It was about teatime..." "Well, Mrs. Fisher, time we were going." "I really did see him, he was dressed in..." "I hope you're not in the habit of seeing dead people, however distinguished." "It's not in the best of taste." "I'm sure the last thing I would want to see is my late husband, Mr. Fisher crossing the road... in front of my house." "I'm sure." "Well, Mrs. Fisher, everything seems in order." "Provided your references are satisfactory." "Our references?" "Aren't we the ones that ought to be asking references from you mrs Fisher?" "These should be satisfactory." "A president to the Royal Academy, archbishop of Canterbury... the governor of the Bank of England." "I have known them for years." "I don't think references are very nice things amongst decent people." "I mean, we're not business men are we?" "They... have to distrust each other." "Mrs. Wilkins is right, Mrs. Fisher." "References do bring a certain... atmosphere into our plans which isn't... quite what we want, so I don't think we'll take up yours, or give you ours." "In which case I shall assume that you don't wish to join us." "Well, very well." "No references." "Yeah, I waive all references." "There... forgive me if I don't see you out." "Lady Caroline Dester." "Ooh, she sounds very grand." "Very smart." "Do you see her with us at San Salvatore?" "I'm Caroline Dester." "I'm Mrs. Arbuthnot, and this is Mrs. Wilkins." "How do you do?" "Do sit down." "Thank you." "You realise it will be very quiet at San Salvatore." "Nothing." "No one." "Just the waves." "It sounds like heaven." "I'll be in Italy, which I love, and not in a hotel, which a loathe." "The best of all, I won't be staying with friends, I'll be with strangers." "Wonderful." "Why is that so wonderful?" "Well, you won't be able to mention a single person I know." "You don't know anyone I know, do you?" "No, I don't think so." "Nor do I." "Good." "It's so boring otherwise." "It's no holiday to talk about the same old things, same old people." "I want to just sit and not talk and not think and not be the center of everything all the time." "You know what that's like." "No, I don't." "Neither do I." "Well, it's very wearing." "Everybody makes demands... especially men." "Yes." "Caroline, darling..." "Yes?" "Delightful party." "Thank you." "Now I'm not sure if you really deserve it." "And this one I have inscribed with a personal message for you." "Oh, thank you so much." "Now, I would rather like you to meet my..." "Excuse me, I'm just going to have a word with your daughter." "Gerald." "Congratulations on the book." "Thank you, Caroline." "Your mother has been most generous in setting this up." "You look lovely." "I know." "Thank you, Gerald." "You mustn't monopolise Caroline." "It isn't fair." "Even though you are the guest of honor, er.." "Mr. Arundel." "You're going away, I hear." "Who's been talking?" "Authors have ways." "Was it mother?" "My lips are sealed." "I need to get away." "Where are you going?" "If I told you, I wouldn't be getting away, would I?" "It's a secret, is it?" "And please don't try and find out, Gerald." "No, no." "(Why don't you go home?" ")" "I just must have some time alone." "Frederick?" "Good night, my dear." "Splendid, my dear." "The apricot tart was especially fine." "Mellersh!" "There's something I want to talk to you about." "There's something I want to talk to you too about, my dear." "I'm thinking of taking you to Italy for Easter." "What?" "I'm thinking of taking you to Italy for Easter." "Frankly, I can afford it." "The company is doing very well, thanks, I may say, with all due modesty, to my efforts." "I thought Italy rather than Switzerland which is vile in April." "We could both do with a change." "It would be nice to go together." "A second person is always useful in a country whose language one doesn't speak... to look after the luggage while one communicates with the natives." "You seem stunned, my dear." "I am." "Yes, well, you don't seem very enthusiastic about it." "It... it really is the most extraordinary coincidence, Mellersh." "Really extraordinary." "You see..." "I've been invited by a friend to spend April with her in Italy." "She has a house there." "What?" "Well, a kind of castle, really... so I said yes." "This is outrageous, Lottie." "You accepted an invitation from a friend without consulting me?" "I'm consulting you, now!" "Of course you can write to her... and say you can't go..." "it's absolutely out of the question!" "I can't do that!" "Why not!" "Because I don't want to!" "I'm afraid it's all settled, Mellersh." "I can't go back on my word now." "That's all settled?" "Nothing's settled." "I don't believe a word of it." "A friend with a castle in Italy?" "What friend?" "You haven't got any friends, as far as I know." "Rose Arbuthnot." "Rose Arbut..." "I never heard of Rose Arbuthnot!" "Gosh, she's very nice." "Everybody says so." "Tell me if you'd like another helping of apricot tart." "No, I would not like another helping of apricot tart!" "Lottie, you are not going to Italy alone." "Absolutely not!" "How is this different?" "Well, this is Italian rain." "There's no one here to meet us." "We are four hours late." "Stop, thief!" "Madame..." "Madame..." "English madame!" "San Salvatore?" "San Salvatore!" "San Salvato..." "Oh, Lottie, Lottie..." "It's all right!" "San Salvato..." "They must have sent it!" "What?" "Madame..." "English madame, San Salvatore!" "O, buono cavalino, bello cavalino!" "My horsey, good horsey." "Buono!" "Buono!" "We're in God's hands now." "Sono cintato." "Sone quattro ore che a vi aspette." "Preciso." "Io sono Domenico." "Siamo arrivati a San Salvatore." "Scendete!" "Beppo!" "Svegliati." "Prendi la valise, camina." "We have no choice, Lottie." "Ecco, ci qua." "Questo e San Salvatore." "San Salvatore!" "San Salvatore!" "Do you suppose it's all real?" "Were you ever in your whole life so happy?" "Never." "I promised myself the first thing to happen in this place would be a kiss." "Oh, it's a mirage." "No, it's her." "Oh, I didn't know she'd arrived already." "Neither did I." "She'll get a headache, sitting in the sun like that without a hat." "She's treading on lilies." "Well, they're hers as much as ours." "Only a quarter of them." "Hello!" "Hello." "I got here yesterday." "Oh, what a pity." "We were going to choose the nicest room for you." "Oh, I've already done that." "At least, I think it's the nicest." "We were going to make it pretty for you with lots of flowers." "Oh, Domenico has done that." "I told him when I got here." "He's the gardener." "Well, it's good to be independent and to know exactly what one wants." "Oh, it saves time." "But you shouldn't be too independent, that people cannot be generous." "You know, I hadn't realised you were so pretty." "That's very kind of you to say so." "You're really quite lovely." "I hope you make the most of it." "Yes, I've been making the most of it ever since I can remember." "Because it won't last." "I know." "I musn't miss breakfast." "Buon giorno." "Eh spero che a dormito bene." "La prossima corta e di la, il camero da pranzo eh... di, Stefano!" "Oh, there you are." "Oh, we had no idea you were here." "Oh, yes, I'm here." "Cuckoos." "What?" "Nothing." "I was just thinking about cuckoos for some reason." "Uh, tea or coffee?" "Er..." "Coffee." "Un poco di latte per favore, Francesca." "Uh, Lady Caroline's Italian is much better than mine." "My Italian is the Italian of Dante." "Very old-fashioned." "I was taught it by Mr. Robert Browning." "Wonderful." "London doesn't exist anymore." "I suppose you realise we've got to heaven." "Oh, grazie." "Well, I intend to spend most of my time reading by myself." "Nobody wants to see an old woman hobbling about everywhere." "Oh, I do hope your bedroom is comfortable." "Oh, ... quiet." "It had two beds in it for some reason, so I had one taken out." "Oh, so that's why I've got two beds." "Well I've got two beds as well." "The second one must be Lady Caroline's." "We simply asked Francesca to take them out." "We didn't need them." "Neither do we." "Do we, Rose?" "Our husbands aren't here to put in them." "In my day, husbands and beds were rarely spoken of in the same breath." "Husbands were taken seriously, as the only real obstacle to sin." "Would you like some more coffee, Mrs. Arbuthnot?" "Uh... no, thank you." "Would you?" "No." "Now, have you all you want?" "Yes, thank you." "Have you?" "Mrs. Arbuthnot... you have the most interesting habit of answering a question with the same question." "Oh, no, no." "Don't apologise." "I wasn't going to." "Well..." "I'd better get on with my duties." "What time would you like lunch?" "Lunch is at half past twelve." "Oh, I'll tell cook." "It'll be a bit of struggle, but I've bought a little dictionary." "Yeah, the cook knows." "Oh?" "Lady Caroline has already told her." "Oh!" "She speaks the sort of Italian cooks understand." "I couldn't get into the kitchen because of my stick." "It isn't right." "Morally speaking, Mrs Fisher is our guest... we found San Salvatore... it's silly as hat that we have it this year, this place..." "No..." "I think what gift it is to care." "I can't see the point of being an old nostalgic... at the price of one's liberty." "Oh." "They must have signed heaven." "This is heaven." "Isn't it Rose?" "Yes." "I was just thinking." "Mrs. Fisher doesn't seem to be very happy." "We should try and help her." "Oh no, we musn't try to be or, well, do anything in this place." "Oh, don't worry." "She'll be happy very soon." "Uh, you never give up, do you?" "Questa e per Lei, signorina." "Grazie mille." "Il sole Lei va fare mal di testa." "L'ho portato... un umbrellino." "Grazie, è molto gentile." "Domenico, vado a dormire." "Brava." "Dormire, e com'una rosa..." "Si dorma?" "Si riposa." "I just want to get my feathers smooth again." "Not spoken to, not grabbed." "If I can be left quiet for one month, forget things..." "I might be able to get myself straight." "Not on of them here..." "Lax, lax..." "Mi puo servire, Francesca." "Yeah, poco, poco." "Yeah, basta." "Grazie." "Suona encora campanello, Francesca." "Uh, are you all right?" "Yes." "Did you hear the gong?" "Yes." "I have a headache." "Oh, I'm so sorry." "Perhaps some tea might do you some good." "No!" "I expect what she really wants is to be left quiet." "Yes." "But, I can't bear to think of you out here with a headache." "Perhaps I..." "What she really wants is to be left alone." "May I have the bread, please?" "Do you know the Italian for "aspirin"?" "The proper cure for headaches is castor oil." "She hasn't got a headache." "Carlyle suffered terribly from headaches and neuralgia." "He always took castor oil." "What Lady Caroline wants is a dose." "Only one, mind." "It's a mistake to keep on taking castor oil." "Do you know the Italian for it?" "No, I don't think I do." "Castor oil isn't in classical Italian." "She hasn't got a headache." "Then why, pray, should she say she has, Mrs. Wilkins?" "Oh, she's... she's just trying to be polite." "Soon she won't have to try... she'll... she'll just be herself without trying." "Lottie has a theory about this place." "Yeah, I'm sure... but I don't understand why you assume Lady Caroline is not telling the truth." "I don't assume, I know." "And how, pray, do you know?" "I saw inside her." "I hear you're not well." "I expect the journey's upset you." "Now, what you need is a good dose of some simple medicine like castor oil." "Ah, I thought you weren't asleep." "Now, take my advice... and don't neglect what might turn into an illness." "This is Italy." "Don't worry about me." "I'm just lying here thinking." "Well, that's dangerous, too." "I should go to bed and get well." "I am well." "Then why did you send a message saying you were ill?" "I didn't." "Then I have had all the trouble of coming out here for nothing." "Yes, but don't you prefer coming out... and finding me well than coming out and finding me ill?" "Well, you're a very beautiful ceature." "If you'd been born..." "Fifty years ago, Lord Tennyson, had an eye..." "The beautiful, it seems... are able to do just what they like of men." "Yes, when you are beautiful it's easier." "I wasted so much time being beautiful." "Isn't this a delightful room?" "We've just discovered it." "Well, really." "Why don't you like us being here?" "I should have thought you could see this is my room." "The notepaper." "That's my notepaper." "And the pen." "It's yours?" "I'm very sorry." "I..." "I've been writing some very nice things with it." "I don't think I've hurt it in any way." "But why can't we be here?" "This is a sitting room, and we've been sitting." "There's another one." "You and your friend can't sit in two rooms at once." "And if I've no wish to disturb you in yours, you shouldn't disturb me in mine." "It's all right." "Soon you'll want us to share." "You'll probably even ask me to use your pen if I haven't one." "I need a room to myself." "I'm an old woman." "I can't get about because of my stick." "I have to sit." "I want somewhere where I won't be disturbed." "Mrs. Fisher, I assure you, we have no intention..." "We're only too glad for you to have this room if it makes you happy." "We just didn't know about it, that's all." "We wouldn't have come in if we'd had." "Not until you invited us, anyway." "And you probably will do, you know... very soon." "It isn't her room." "I've been thinking about Mellersh." "Why?" "I've been a mean dog." "A... a what?" "All this coming away and leaving him in that dreary place while I'm here enjoying myself in heaven." "You know, he planned a holiday in Italy with me, and I planned a holiday in Italy by myself." "I think he must be very hurt." "I've written and told him everything." "Uh, you mean about the advertisement and your nest egg?" "Oh, no... no I'll tell him about that when he comes." "Uh, oh, when he comes?" "I have written and invited him to stay." "It's the least I could do." "It would be mean not to share all this." "You think he'll come?" "Oh, I hope so, poor lamb." "I see him here." "Lottie..." "Lottie, I can't keep up." "The whole idea about coming here was to get away, wasn't it?" "And now after just one day you want to write... to the very people... to the very people we're trying to get away from." "Yes, I know." "It's idiotic, isn't it, Rose?" "But..." "I feel so happy here." "This place makes me feel flooded with love." "The important thing is to have lots of love about." "I was very stingy with it back home." "I used to measure and count it out." "I had this obsession with justice, you see." "I wouldn't love Mellersh unless he loved me back exactly as much." "And as he didn't..." "neither did I." "The emptiness of it all." "I don't think I'll come down to the village." "I'd like to stay here and think." "Don't think too long." "Write and invite him now." "Invite who?" "Your husband!" "Lottie can write, and Mellersh will answer." "Frederick won't." "Or if he did, it would be," ""Thanks for the letter, don't hurry back." "Say if you want money..." "Frederick"." "That's a beautiful dress..." "No, I've had it a hundred years." "But you must be very cold in it." "It's easy to catch a chill here after dark." "You look as though you have nothing on underneath." "I haven't." "That's very imprudent and very improper." "There are no men here, so how can it be improper?" "Have you noticed how difficult it is to be improper whith no men about?" "That's sad, but true." "I've had a wonderful day." "I've decided to invite someone to stay here." "What?" "I think he'll like it." "Who?" "Wilkins." "Well, that's your name." "And his." "A relation?" "A husband." "I thought you were a war widow." "Why?" "There are so many of them about." "When we were in London, we agreed that we could invite" "one guest each, didn't we?" "I don't remember that." "I do, but it's incredible you should want to." "I thought the whole idea was to get away from one's friends..." "and husbands." "And family affection." "And lack of family affection." "Really..." "It wouldn't be so bad." "It would give a person room to breathe." "No." "It would be terrible, like having no clothes on." "I like that." "Really!" "It's a good feeling, getting rid of things." "But it's so cold having nothing on, and knowing that you'll never have anything on again." "Don't you get colder and colder... until, at last, you die of it." "That's what it's like living with someone who doesn't love you." "Would you pass me the cream?" "But doesn't he love you?" "Mellersh?" "He shows no signs of it." "Delicious!" "Oh, really." "I didn't think it was delicious." "I was miserable, and then, today, I got well." "I can't ever be happy shutting him out." "I must share." "Now I know exactly what the Blessed Damozel felt like." "Who's the Blessed Damozel?" "It's a poem." "I'll lend you a copy." "Please, don't." "And the author, Mr. Rosetti, though not all one would wish, was frequently invited to my father's house." "How terrible for you." "That's what my mother's always doing, inviting authors." "I hate authors, don't you?" "Me?" "Well, sometimes." "I wouldn't mind them so much... if they didn't write books." "Do go on about Mellersh." "Oh really." "Well, it's all these beds." "Eight beds and only four people." "That's dreadful." "I want Rose to invite her husband here, too." "Really." "Really!" "Sorry." "You do realise, of course, that there is only one spare bedroom in the house." "One?" "Who's in all the others?" "We are." "There are six rooms." "We have four." "Francesca has the fifth, and the sixth is empty." "Oh, dear." "Oh, dear." "I want to love Mellersh, but... not necessarily spend every night with him." "Where am I going to put him?" "Isn't one room enough for him?" "Yes, but... then there won't be room left for anyone that you may want to invite." "Well, I shan't want to." "No?" "And Rose doesn't count." "She'd want to share her room with her husband." "It's written all over her." "Lottie!" "Really!" "Really, what?" "Just, really... am I to understand you propose to reserve the only spare bedroom for the exclusive use of your family?" "Mellersh isn't my family." "He's my husband." "Well, as nobody seems to want the room, Mellersh must have it." "I have a friend." "Kate Lumley." "Perhaps you know her?" "I wish to invite her to join me." "That settles Mellersh, then." "Oh!" "Afraid you're in for it, Lottie, unless, of course, he can't come." "No, no." "I..." "I see him here." "Why am I so restless?" "I haven't felt this restless since I was a child." "It's too absurd for someone my age." "But look at me." "I can't keep still." "I feel... something is going to happen." "But I won't let it." "I won't let it." "It's odd how one's mind slips sideways in a place like this." "I walked without my stick today." "It's very strange." "If you knew me, you'd know how strange it was." "You can talk to your Kate Lumley about that when she comes." "Uh?" "Oh, no." "Kate would only look at me and suggest a cup of tea." "I'm starving." "I've had another wonderful day." "Has the letter gone?" "What letter's that?" "Inviting your husband." "Oh, Lottie, don't." "Another one?" "Who is her husband?" "Mr. Arbuthnot, of course." "I mean what is Mr. Arbuthnot?" "My husband." "They bring tra-la, a summer of roses and wine, a summer of roses and wine." "And that's what we mean when we say that the thing is welcome as flowers that bloom in the spring..." "Caroline's right." "Minds slip sideways." "How could I invite him?" "What would we talk about?" "The truth is..." "I bore him." "And there's no way back." "No, if you bore somebody... it's almost impossible to unbore him." "..essun e caldo." "Erania, vedera.." "..si trovero bene qui signori.." "Si la e securo." "Is that Lady Caroline Dester?" "No." "Rose." "Mrs. Arbuthnot." "Caroline'll still be in bed." "Caroline?" "You call her Caroline?" "I must say, Lottie, when I got your letter and found you were on holiday with Lady Caroline Dester" "I was impressed." "Isn't it beautiful here, Mellersh?" "You know the Desters are one of the richest families in England?" "For once, Lottie, you're being really useful." "The air is golden." "Now, first I think I'll have a bath, then a shave, then change my clothes, have a sleep, and then I'll lunch." "Then you can introduce me to Lady Caroline Dester." "I've planned exactly what I'm going to say." "Mellersh, I do believe you came all this way just to see Lady Caroline and not me." "No." "No, my dear." "No, no, no." "No." "I came here to see you." "Oh, yes." "If, however, in so doing," "I can improve our business prospects, well..." "Oh, I don't mind." "You're here." "That's the important thing." "And you'll change." "Signore, il bagno e pronto." "Si averse e pericoloso." "E pericoloso!" "Vi attento eh." "Yes." "Yes." "Non spasa al bagna perche pericoloso." "Molto pericoloso!" "E pericoloso!" "Thank you very much." "Thank you." "Out!" "Out!" "Thank you very much." "I shall wash myself, thank you." "Thank you very much indeed." "That's it." "That'll be all." "Thank you." "Non devi chiudere I'aqua calda, quanda e fini, capito?" "No!" "There you are, there you are." "Thank you very much indeed." "That'll be all." "Thank you." "Ahh... pericoloso, ahh..." "Charming people." "Charming!" "Ahh.." "Blast that bloody bath!" "Oh, my God." "How do you do?" "How do you do?" "I'm Caroline Dester." "A.. allow me to introduce myself.. er.." "My name's Mellersh Wilkins." "I'm..." "I'm afraid I used unpardonable language." "I thought it most appropriate in the circumstances." "Oh thank..." "Mrs." "Fisher.." "allow me to introduce Mr. Mellersh Wilkins." "This is Mrs. Fisher." "Always a pleasure to meet a friend of my wife's." "I..." "I was just taking a bath." "Oh, I didn't know... 'pericoloso' meant explosion." "Otherwise, I would've remained dirty." "Oh, but now, Mellersh, you look absolutely spotless." "You look clean enough to eat dinner off." "Lady Caroline acted with true grace." "And Mrs. Fisher is remarkable, too, in her way." "A woman of parts... and property, if I'm not mistaken, who may need my counseling." "Lottie, your friends are splendid." "Splendid!" "Why you kept them a secret is beyond me." "Signora, signora i conti." "della bottiglia." "E per la mangare, pregarli pesce o uova?" "Bisogna pagare i soldi di latte di settimana avete guardari" "Soldi, soldi, soldi." "Does this good Lady want something?" "Money." "Money?" "I think she's talking about the housekeeping bills." "But you've nothing to do with those." "You're a guest here." "I'm afraid I'm not." "The four of us are sharing the expense of this holiday." "I'm paying for my share out of my nest egg." "You've every right to be angry with me." "Nonsense." "Well... it's your money, after all." "And you needed a holiday like this." "Where else would you meet such interesting people?" "Oh, Mellersh, you really are sweet." "Signora, signora, soldi, soldi, soldi..." "Mellersh, you belong here." "Non è corta linea, non è corta linea..." "Yes, this is the result of one week's unbridled license, and it must stop." ".. Yeah Mr. Wilkins, I don't approve of men smoking indoors." "No, I thought you wouldn't." "I'm searching that Lady Caroline girl." "Ah, a most agreeable guest." "Agreeable?" "She's been letting the bills run up in a most terrible fashion." "What has Lady Caroline to do with the bills?" "The housekeeping was left to her." "Lady Caroline housekeeping for a party that includes my wife?" "You render me speechless." "You do know she's the daughter of Lord Dester... the Lord Dester." "Ah!" "Well that accounts for it then." "The botch-up her father made in his department during the war was a national scandal." "They never could actually prove anything." "You ought to have told me you were not doing the household bills." "I didn't know you thought I was." "Now what do you propose we do for the rest of the time here?" "Nothing." "Nothing." "Uh uh... nothing!" "Uh, ladies..." "May I make a suggestion?" "Why not allow a certain amount per head, and tell the cook from that sum she must cater for you as well as ever." "It's easily reckoned out." "The charges of a modest hotel perhaps... halved." "That's very sensible, Mr. Wilkins." "So it is, but.." "what about the terrifying bills for this last week?" "Don't worry." "I'll pay them." "It'll be my present to San Salvatore..." "I don't want Lottie worried in any way." "That is most generous of you." "Well, uh, if you wish to waste your money..." "I agree." "Good." "Well, we needn't bother Lady Caroline any further." "Oh, really." "Mrs." "Fisher, do tell me about Ruskin." "Ooh, you have an interest in Ruskin, mr." "Wilkins?" "Indeed I do." "I've met him ma'm, but tell me, is he taught?" "What's his harp?" "Harp?" "I like him." "I didn't think I would, but I do." "He doesn't hover, he doesn't grab... he fits in." "I shouldn't write." "He won't come." ""What do I want with a holiday?"" "This place is making me soft, and work is the only salvation." "You know I won't post it." "Domenico can do it." "It's this place." "Different from Inverness Terrace." "Nothing young there." "I should take it loose." "This feeling unsubmitted a birst out." "Absurd at my age." "Nothing personnel and crox imagining we feel young again." "I won't have it, I won't have it." "Mellersh?" "Ah!" "Thank you, my dear." "I've made up my mind." "I've decided to pay your expenses for this holiday, as well as my own." "Your nest egg... will not be touched." "Oh, Mellersh." "How nice of you." "Be careful, careful." "Now, I've realised how valuable you are to me." "In my profession... a man is always helped by having a... a clever and... attractive wife." "Lady Caroline thinks you're attractive... and so do I." "Do you think I'm attractive, Mellersh?" "Yes, I do." "One thing puzzles me, though..." "Why weren't you attractive sooner?" "I've been lucky." "All the advantages I was born with, and I've misused them." "Perhaps if Jack hadn't been killed." "No, no." "That's an excuse." "Thousands of women lost men in the war." "I should count my blessings." "So why aren't I satisfied?" "I have it all." "Why can't I hold onto it?" "He'll have got your letter by now." "I shouldn't have sent it." "Oh, no." "You'll get a message very soon." "saying he's on his way." "It works for you." "You have a gift for happiness." "Ahh, Mrs. Arbuthnot..." "I was looking for you." "There's a telegram." "Rose?" "Not bad news, I trust?" "No, no." "On the contrary." ""I am passing on way to Rome." "Will pay my respects"." "And who is George Briggs?" "The owner." "It's his house." "He's coming this afternoon." "He's very nice." "Mr. Briggs." "Oh." "We didn't expect you so soon." "Yes, it really is extraordinary, the likeness." "Oh, well, I hope I don't look quite so solemn." "It isn't really so much like me." "Well, I can see deeper than most." "You're alike inside." "You and Lottie should get on very well." "She sees inside people, too." "La signora Fisher ha prendendi un caffe." "E sara molto, molto contenta di viderla." "Who's Signora Fisher?" "One of the four of us who are sharing your house." "Four?" "Well, my friend and I decided we couldn't afford it on our own, so..." "Oh, dear." "If I had known." "Come on." "I'll introduce you to Mrs. Fisher." "No." "Won't she keep?" "Won't you show me around first?" "It's your house." "Well, no, it's not." "Well, until Monday week." "Come on, you show me all your views, and I'll show you mine." "Careful, now." "Here." "Ah, there we are." "What?" "Why are you laughing?" "Uh, it's like coming home." "Oh, but this is your home." "No no, I mean like coming home to a family." "I've never had a family, you see, I'm an orphan." "Oh, I'm sorry." "Oh, no, no, no." "I hope you haven't been one long er... no, I mean, well..." "I don't know what I mean." "No." "I..." "I was adopted." "Happily... but I always missed... having a family." "And there's.." "something about you that's exactly my idea of a family." "You're so... warm..." "Well, you wouldn't think so if you saw my house in London." "There's nothing warm there." "Why,... not at all." "I'd believe any place you lived in would be exactly like you." "You're not going to tell me that San Salvatore is like me?" "Well, of course." "I mean, you must admit it's beautiful." "Here." "I've been thinking." "Isn't it better to feel young somewhere than old everywhere?" "Time enough to feel old again when we have to leave this beautiful place." "Oh, good gracious." "Child," "Child." "Excuse me." "Do you..." "you remember me?" "Yes, of course, Mr. Briggs." "Hello." "Yes, you must have some tea." "I'll get er.." "Francesca to make some fresh." "Oh, hm... no." "I'm sorry." "I'm forgetting myself." "Oh, it's very natural." "I..." "I'll go along and ask Francesca." "Oh, no." "No, don't you go, um... uh, Francesca, ancora te, Francesca." "I was, uh, explaining, um, Mrs. Wilkins, that I'm just on my way to Rome, and, um..." "I thought I'd just look in and make sure you were all comfortable." "And where are you staying, Mr. Briggs?" "At a hotel at Mezzago." "Well, no." "You must stay here." "It's your home." "You can have Kate Lumley's room." "You wouldn't mind him using it for one night, would you, Mrs. Fisher?" "Kate Lumley isn't actually in it." "No, she isn't." "Uh, Kate Lumley is unfortunately a very wide person, and that's a very narrow room." "No." "Kate might get into it... but once in, she would probably never get out." "So, you see, dear boy, you must stay here." "Yes, you must." "Well, if you all agree, I'd love to be a guest here, especially with three such lovely hostesses." "Uh, but there is a fourth, isn't there?" "Uh... yes." "You can ask her yourself, Mr. Briggs." "Caroline, this is Mr. Briggs, the owner." "We've invited him to stay the night." "Yes, if there's room and..." "Oh, Lord, another man." "Looks like a grabber." "Grab, grab, grab." "There's Kate Lumley's room." "She's not coming, is she, Mrs. Fisher?" "Well, not if I can help it." "Then I join in the invitation." "Well, thank you." "So we'll have another whole day to explore San Salvatore, if you'll let me." "I'd be delighted." "Good!" "Could you give me some of those cherries, my dear?" "You'd better get your things, Mr. Briggs." "Oh, yes... uh.." "Oh, we can easily send Domenico." "Well, only if you're sure it wouldn't be any trouble, Mrs. Arbuthnot." "Mr. Briggs..." "Do tell Caroline about the oleander tree." "Oh, well... yes, um... uh, yes, you see this, uh, oleander just here." "Well, my father... uh, many years ago... stuck his cherry-wood walking stick into... uh... that spot and said to the head gardener, "this is where we'll have an oleander"." "And he left it there as a reminder, and, uh, after a while, uh, quite how long nobody can be sure, it, the stick, began to sprout." "And it was... an oleander." "Is that true?" "That doesn't matter." "It's such a pretty story." "Yes, it is." "He seemed very taken with Rose." "He certainly didn't grab like the rest of them." "I'm pleased." "Yes, I'm very pleased." "Of course I'm pleased." "Gerald?" "Gerald Arundel." "It can't be." "Oh, my goodness." "Caroline..." "I didn't expect..." "What are you doing here?" "You must forgive me dear Caroline." "Your mother told me where you were." "As I happened to be passing on my way to Rome," "I thought I'd get out at Mezzago and just look in,... see how you were... if that's all right." "Didn't Mother tell you I was having a rest cure?" "Yes, she did." "That's why I didn't come earlier." "Left it till near dinner time." "Didn't want to intrude." "I thought you might be bored." "I'm not." "I do apologise for barging in like this." "No, no." "I'm rather glad to see you." "Tell me all about Mother." "She's taken to wearing a wig." "A wig?" "Blond." "She looks rather like Brunhilde." "I must run, or I'll never be ready in time." "Don't worry about me." "I'd just like to have a sit after that walk." "See you at dinner?" "Frederick?" "Frederick!" "Rose." "I knew you'd come." "When did you start?" "Start?" "Yesterday morning." "You started right away then." "Right away, yes." "You got my letter very quickly, didn't you?" "Your letter?" "Very quick." "Sweetheart..." "I'm so glad you came." "Oh, I am sorry." "I..." "I didn't mean to..." "Mr. Briggs." "Well, I'm damned." "This is my husband..." "Frederick Arbuthnot." "I thought you were a widow." "No." "Why?" "Well, no, I thought, um... well, so many women seem to be..." "Frederick, this is Mr. Briggs." "He owns the castle." "How do you do?" "Oh, how do... well, um..." "We'd better go on." "come on." "We mustn't be late for dinner." "Like Caroline." "Caroline?" "She's always late." "Lady Caroline Dester." "She's one of my friends." "Are you all right, dear?" "Never better." "Of course, Mrs. Fisher, it would be undoubtedly best if one's outward appearance and one's feelings matched, but so often they don't." "One can't have everything." "I, for example..." "I am at the moment feeling happy... joyful, even." "But do I show it?" "I kept telling Rose you'd come, didn't I, Rose?" "You did." "I didn't believe it, but here you are." "You're right, Lottie." "It's this place." "It's a tub of love." "What?" "A tub of love." "Ah, this is Caroline." "I'm Frederick Arbuthnot." "Frederick Arbuthnot." "My name's Frederick Arbuthnot." "I'm Rose's husband." "I've just come down to see her." "Yes, yes, yes." "Hmm." "How nice." "And I'm late on your very first evening." "Do forgive me." "Isn't she beautiful?" "Love!" "Yes." "You know, it's a great thing to get on with one's loving... and not to waste time." "I suppose you think Rose's husband is just a... middle-aged, red-faced, rather ordinary man." "He isn't." "Isn't he?" "No." "Rose sees through all that." "She sees what we can't see because she loves him." "Oh dear Lottie we must be friends forever and forever." "Thank you for not, uh..." "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Arbuthnot." "I think Rose is waiting for you." "Frederick, how is your book then?" "My book?" "Umm, sounds exciting!" "Theo, The Slave Prince." "Theodora, The Slave Princess..." "can wait." "Oh, hello." "Who's that?" "It's me." "Caroline Dester." "Ah!" "I hope I'm not disturbing you." "Oh, no." "No." "Forgive me..." "I couldn't help noticing how miserable you seemed." "Was it the unexpected arrival of Mr. Arbuthnot?" "Yes, uh." "I thought Mr. Arbuthnot had, uh, died." "Well, so many men died." "Yes." "So many." "Yes." "It's, um..." "Well, you may not have noticed, but I'm rather shortsighted." "Indeed?" "Well, the war..." "Does it give you any pain?" "On, no, no, uh..." "Absolutely not." "Nothing..." "to it at all." "But it uh.." "it does rather mean..." "I never get a... good look at people, you know... they all seem rather hazy somehow." "I tend to judge people by their voices, you know, the inside person, and er... and it did rather seem to me that Mrs. Arbuthnot was... wonderful... inside." "Wonderful inside?" "Yes!" "That's important." "Yes." "Oh, what the devil." "It's too beautiful a night to be miserable." "Though I do miss the stars." "No!" "Oh, sorry." "I had to grab you." "All my dead friends don't seem worth reading tonight." "They always say the same things... good things, but always the same." "They were... they are... great, but they have one terrible disadvantage... they are all dead." "I'm tired of the dead." "I want the living." "Thank you, my dear." "I was feeling a little melancholy." "Where are the others?" "They all seem to have paired off, Mrs. Fisher." "It does seem that... people can only be happy in pairs, all sorts of pairs." "Then you and I will be a pair, Mrs. Fisher." "We're going to be very good friends." "I hope so, Lottie." "I can see it." "Then we will be." "Where exactly are the others?" "Well, the Roses are in love in the Rose garden." "The Roses?" "Why not call them the Arbuthnots, my dear?" "Very well, Mellersh..." "Arbuthnots." "And the Carolines the who?" "Oh, the Briggses, then." "The Briggses?" "Oh, are you mad?" "They never set eyes on each other before today." "That's why they're able to go ahead." "Go ahead?" "It's no use, Mellersh." "I see them as the Briggses." "You coming, my dear?" "It's so sad to leave here." "Lottie, Lottie, just a moment, my dear." "You go on." "Are you sure you're..." "You go on ahead, and I will join you presently." "All right." "See you down there." "Mind your step here." "Such a beautiful place." "Marvelous." "One last note." "Alright." "Ooh." "Per favore, Domenico?" "Grazie." "Mrs. Fisher!" "Come on!" "Prego, signora..." "That last week, the whole country seemed to dress itself in white." "There were white lilies, white stocks, white banksia Roses, and the fragrance of the acacias." "Even after we'd got to the bottom of the hill and passed through the iron gates and out into the village, we could still smell the acacias." "We could smell them even when we reached London." "But that's another story."