[upbeat music] [thunder booming] [foreboding music] [door knocking] -[Man] Who is it?

-It's me, you old fool.

Open the door.

Hilary, what on Earth are you doing here?

Oh, stop shinning that thing in my face, Seymour.

Here, take this.

Take this.

Is this it?

Yes, what do you think it is?

What do you want me to do with it?

Well, put it somewhere safe, of course.

If you insist.

You'd better come in.

It's a filthy night.

Oh, no, no.

I have to get back before they realize I've gone.

See you in a few days.

-[thunder crashing] -[dramatic music] Woman on table three's saying she ordered tart, -not omelet.

-Bloody hell, John.

Come on, Steve, you know what it's like.

They like the look of someone else's food and decide that's what they ordered.

False Memory Syndrome, it's called.

Yeah, well, there's no more spinach and onion tart.

No More Tart Syndrome, it's called.

-There must be!

-One gooseberry, one Stilton.

Yeah, all right!

Look, there's one more tart left, but it's overdone.

-Excuse me?

-Yeah, all right!

And I'm not letting anything out of this kitchen unless it's perfect.

That's the way Mr. Crabbe would want it.

He wouldn't have burnt it in the first place.

Did I say I'd burnt it?

It's perfectly edible, actually.

Great, then let me take it to table three.

-[phone ringing] -Oh, for God's sake.

Look, I'm telling you, it's not going out of this kitchen because it's not perfect, okay?!

I have promised her this damn tart!

-Hello, Pie in the Sky?

-[voices clamoring] No, I'm sorry, he's not here at the moment.

Can I take a message?

Excuse me, one second.

Excuse me!

Will you two keep it down?

Sorry about that.

What was the name again?

Hilary Smallwood.

He's to telephone me right away.

It's very urgent.

What is it?

Reverend Cromwell is giving his Thought for the Day in the sitting room, Mrs. Smallwood.

In the unlikely event that the Reverend Cromwell has had a thought, I don't want him to give it to me.

Okie-Doke.

See you at teatime.

Don't bank on it.

-You off, then?

-Yeah, finished up now.

-Bye then, John.

-Bye, Henderson.

Thank you.

Bye, Nic.

Bye.

Steve?

There was a message, actually, from the woman on table three, about your tart.

Yeah, what?

Well, she said the spinach and onion tart was overcooked.

-Afternoon.

-Hi.

All right.

There's an atmosphere in here.

Now, I've just done four days in court.

It did not go well.

I am tired.

My tolerance levels are low.

So, if you've got something to tell me, tell me.

If you haven't, sling your hooks.

No, it's okay, Chef.

We're all right.

It's just been a bit busy, that's all.

I'm very pleased to hear it.

-Right, bye then.

-Bye.

Bye bye, Nicola.

Bye.

-Is everything all right, Steve?

-Yeah, yeah.

No problem.

You know, I think I ought to look for someone to help you on days when I can't be here.

I can manage.

Oh, it was just Johnny.

He keeps winding me up.

Do you want me to have a word with him?

I'll deal with it.

Don't mention anything to John, will you?

Forget I mentioned it, all right?

Thanks.

[soft music] What are you doing?

I thought I had a bottle of Rioja somewhere.

Oh, Nicola took a message for you at lunchtime.

It's on the table.

Poor girl.

She was in such a state that she'd forgotten to give it to you.

And we've got squabbling in the kitchen.

Squabbling, who's squabbling?

Steve and John.

Well, I suppose chefs and waiters have been at it longer than cops and robbers.

I can't read this.

Horrible sandwich, what's that supposed to mean?

Give it to me.

That's an I, not an O.

It's Hilary, Hilary something.

Hilary Smallwood.

Hilary.

Yes.

-Ring urgently.

-Who?

Hilary, you remember, the writer I met last year.

Yes, you do.

She wrote all these books here.

Pie-Making in the British Isles.

Out of the Frying Pan into the Dordogne.

Albert Bridge.

The Secret Life of the Peppercorn.

Albert Bridge?

Yeah, it's a collection of her journalism.

It's great.

Listen to this.

I met him by Albert Bridge.

From his pocket he produced a paper bag with olives in it.

I'd never even seen an olive before.

I bit into the plump, oily, little fruit, and almost swooned with pleasure.

I knew then that I would go home with him.

I was 16, and at last my life had begun.

Good grief.

You see, she discovered sex and food on the same day.

Yes, Henry, I see.

I'm not completely dim, you know?

Changed my life, this book.

[light music] [door knocking] What is it?

Visitor for you.

Oh, and about time, too.

Now then, Hilary, Mr. Crabbe's come a long way to see us.

Let's be nice, shall we?

He's come to see me, not us.

And for the 100th time, it's Mrs. Smallwood to you.

I brought you a chicken and ham pie.

Oh, for God's sake, I haven't got time to sit around eating pie.

This is an emergency.

And you've got to help me.

What's the emergency?

Is there anyone outside?

Take a look.

No, there's no one there.

No locks on the door.

You notice that?

No, no.

Well, that's probably because, um, well, in case you fall over or something.

Fall over?

Why on Earth should I fall over?

No, it's so they can spy on me.

Oh, I see.

That's why Colin put me in here.

Now, -who's Colin?

-He's my nephew.

Remember my cottage?

-Yes.

-Well, he sold it without so much as a by your leave.

Sold my cottage and stuck me in this place.

They have lunch at midday.

Can you believe that?

And dinner, which they insist on calling tea, at 6 o'clock.

Is the food any good?

Oh, marvelous, if you like cubes of stale cod fried in breadcrumbs.

What are they called?

Fish fingers?

Yes, those are the little buggers.

Uh, Hilary, what's the emergency?

We can't talk in here.

Make me a drink.

A finger of whiskey and one of water, and then we can go into the conservatory.

[tense music] It's Colin.

He wants to take my books away from me.

[Henry] What does he want to do that for?

[Hilary] Oh, for money, of course.

It's all he's interested in.

[Henry] What, do you mean he's going to sell them?

[Hilary] Yes.

[Henry] Are they worth lots of money?

[Hilary] They might be.

[Henry] Yes, but, they're your books.

It's your property.

He can't sell them against your wishes.

Oh yes, he can.

I signed a legal document.

He fooled me.

Now, he can do anything he likes.

[Colin] Hilary?

Oh, it's him.

It's Colin.

Oh, Henry, will you help me?

If I can, of course.

Come for me at midday on Thursday.

I want you to meet an old friend.

Oh, bring some wine.

Something sharp, a merlot, say.

Yes, I'll try.

Hello, Hilary.

Hilary, you look absolutely marvelous.

[Colin chuckling] Who's this?

This is Henry Crabbe.

He's a friend of mine.

Colin, my nephew, and his wife, thingy, the name escapes me.

Serena, how do you do?

-How do you do?

-Henry, lovely to meet you.

A visitor?

Isn't that lovely?

It was, until you turned up.

[Colin chuckling] Yes, well, I must be going now.

Goodbye, it was very nice to meet you.

And goodbye, Hilary.

Don't forget.

I won't.

What mustn't he forget?

Never you mind.

So, where did friend Crabbe pop up from?

He's a policeman.

[tense music] I thought that would wipe the smile off your face.

-One Stilton.

-Yeah.

Thank you.

Two pears, one ice cream, and we're done.

Good service, that.

24 covers, no slip-ups, no disasters.

Yeah, no wrong orders.

No burnt tarts.

Yes, all right, all right.

-That's enough!

-Oh, I'm only kidding, Chef.

I mean, me and John and partners now, aren't we, mate?

If you mean, do we have a good working relationship, the answer is just about.

I mean, you know.

There you go, just about.

I mean, what sort of an attitude is that?

There's somebody to see you, Chef.

Colin somebody.

Henry.

Hello.

Colin Smallwood, we met the other day.

Of course, yes.

Hello.

I'll get straight to the point, Henry.

You may think I'm being overprotective, but when a friend of Hilary's, someone I've never come across before, suddenly pops up out of nowhere, I'm naturally a little curious.

Well, I wouldn't presume to describe myself as a friend, but I am a great admirer of her writing.

Of course.

Aren't we all?

Look, it's probably one of Hilary's little fantasies.

But she said you were a policeman.

Well, I am a policeman.

Ah.

So, this?

Is my wife's.

I see.

Of course.

And how long have you known Hilary?

Oh, well, I met her briefly about a year ago.

She was kind enough to try one of my pies.

And then a few days ago, she phoned me out of the blue, and asked me to come and see her.

Was it about anything in particular?

No.

The reason I ask is, Hilary hates to think she's a burden.

She'll suffer in silence rather than make a fuss.

Yes, well, I think she wasn't too keen on the food in that place.

She mentioned fish fingers.

Fish fingers?

[both laughing] Now, that is very naughty of Hilary.

The food is excellent at Akenfield.

Fish fingers, indeed.

And she was also, she was also rather worried about her books.

Her books?

Yes, I think she was under the impression you were going to sell them.

Sell them?

Certainly not.

Now, that is one of Hilary's little fantasies.

It's sad, but Hilary does get rather confused in some of the things she says.

I'll have a word with Hilary about the books.

Well, thank you, for your time, Henry.

So, then he said, you know Hilary likes to suffer in silence.

She doesn't like to make a fuss.

[chuckling] I mean, it's rubbish.

Of course she loves to make a fuss.

She's turned it into an art form.

Then he asked me what she talked about, and when I told him, he dismissed it all as fantasy.

So?

So, he's trying to find out something without letting me know what it is.

Well, he's probably worried about her.

You know what it's like trying to cope with elderly relatives.

Yeah, I suppose you're right.

I mean, look at your mother?

My mother, what about your father?

Nothing wrong with my father.

Just a bit eccentric, that's all.

It was like living with King Lear.

Let's not talk about it, shall we?

No, let's not.

Anyway, I'll know more tomorrow.

I'm taking her out for lunch.

Lucky her.

[light music] [Nurse] Hello, lunchtime.

Off we go, Henry.

Chop chop!

[dog barking] [door knocking] [Seymour] Who is it?

It's me, you old fool!

Open the door.

Seymour's getting on a bit, you know?

You'll have to make allowances.

I heard that, Hilary.

Oh, out of the way, Seymour, so we can come in.

Oh, Henry Crabbe.

Seymour Flint.

-How do you do?

-How do you do?

I'm sorry about the gun, but I don't know your car, you see?

One can't be too careful these days.

Seymour thinks he's going to be raided [giggling].

Raided?

By whom?

The food police, of course.

It's all this bloody European Community nonsense.

I raise a few pigs, you see, do me own slaughtering, and Hilary thinks that they will call for me one of these days.

Oh, that's enough of that nonsense.

We're here to eat black pudding.

Thingy, Henry, you can make the sauce with those apples.

Peel and core them, chop them into smallish chunks, put a knob of butter in the pan.

Add the apples, cook them slowly 'til they begin to disintegrate.

Add lemon juice, if necessary.

Then serve.

Take no notice of her, Crabbe.

She's always lashing out the orders.

I hope you are using clarified bacon fat, Seymour.

Very good apple sauce, Crabbe.

So I should think.

A child could make it.

I must try one of your pies.

Hilary tells me you have the gift.

She does?

I said no such thing.

His pies are fine, if you like that kind of thing.

Men, they boil an egg, and suddenly they're Escoffier.

[light music] This black pudding is wonderful.

There's too much oatmeal and barley in most black puddings, not enough fat.

Black pudding without pearl barley isn't black pudding.

If you told me your recipe, I might be able to improve on it.

My recipe for black pudding?

You can't have that, Hilary.

That goes with me to my grave.

What a ridiculous thing to say, Seymour.

Dreadful old fool, you are, talking such nonsense.

I'm sorry, Hilary.

I was only joking.

I'm going to lie down.

You've absolutely exhausted me!

Henderson?

Your lucky day.

Oh, a spare salmon?

Lovely!

Whoa, they've hardly touched it.

Yeah, great.

Brilliant.

Who was it?

The woman on table one.

Oh, yeah, and what's wrong with it?

I don't know.

Look, if the punters don't like the food, you're supposed to find out what's wrong with it, so we can get some feedback in here.

They send it back, I feed.

Feedback, get it?

Look, Steve, if you really want to know, she said the galette was raw and the salmon was overcooked.

That's not true.

-Look at it.

-Oy!

Table one, you said?

-Steve?

-No, no, I'm going to sort this out.

Then bring it straight back!

Excuse me, who had the salmon?

My wife, actually.

Oh, here she is.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I'm sure it's delicious, I just feel a bit woozy.

You know how it is?

Oh, yeah, right.

I'm sorry, okay?

Hilary tells me you were a poet.

The past tense is most appropriate.

-Well, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean-- -Oh, don't fret, dear boy, I know what you mean.

No, I did publish a couple of slender volumes after the War, but they weren't much good.

Dylan Thomas said, Seymour Flint has an agile pen.

He'd write better if he had it in his hand, and not up his ass.

[both laughing] He and Hilary had an affair, you know.

Ended badly, of course.

But I was there to pick up the pieces.

I may not have been a very good poet, but I was fairly good at picking up the pieces.

You were in love with her?

Yes.

More fool, me.

Hilary wasn't conventionally beautiful, but she attracted men in droves.

I suppose that's why the memoirs are such hot stuff.

I didn't know she'd written her memoirs?

Yes.

She won't show me the manuscript, of course.

Not that I want to, all those lovers.

Painters, poets, politicians, she won't have missed a single one out.

And that's why that little shit Colin wants to get his hands on them.

What's it got to do with Colin?

He made Hilary sign this paper so that he's in charge of the estate.

And if the manuscript is published, all the money goes to the estate.

And if the book's a success, they'll republish all her other stuff.

It could be a little gold mine, don't you know?

Oh, of course.

He wants to take my books away, that's what Hilary said.

I didn't realize she meant books she'd actually written.

[door knocking] Well, Colin's not going to get them, or the manuscript.

We're one step ahead of him, and the food police.

[pigs squealing] [horn honking] -No, no, no.

-What?

I've lost the key.

Ah, here it is.

Good God.

What now?

Well, It's gone.

Gone?

How can it be gone?

No, wait a minute, wait a minute.

I changed my mind.

I put it in this drawer, then I changed my mind.

Well, where did you put it?

Well, I put it first in my old safe, but that doesn't lock, so I put it under the bed, but the dogs might have eaten it, so I put I tin this drawer.

And then I changed my mind, and I put it, I can't remember.

Seymour, don't go senile on me now.

Well, it's here somewhere.

I shall remember, Hilary.

I promise.

I just need time.

Well, it's probably what they call an Enduring Power of Attorney.

It's a very good idea.

I advise a lot of my clients to do it.

What is it exactly?

Well, assuming you're in your right mind, you sign a document appointing an attorney or attorneys, and usually it's a relative, and then if you're incapacitated in any way, you can let them carry out your affairs without having to go to the Court of Protection.

You've got to be in your right mind when you sign this form?

Yeah.

Are you saying that's what happened to Hilary Smallwood?

She wasn't in her right mind when she signed it?

I have no idea.

I mean, she's rude, cantankerous, unpredictable.

But is she in her right mind?

God knows.

Oh, it's a family affair, Henry.

Keep out of it.

Yes, but if you'd seen her in that nursing home, I mean, with the nephew hovering around like some kind of vulture.

I mean, maybe her books are out of print, maybe I'm the only person who's ever read them all, but at least she did something.

25 years a copper, still a softie.

Well, when it comes to Hilary Smallwood, I am.

Are you jealous?

Certainly not.

One more pie there, Steve.

Yeah, it's here.

Everything all right?

-Fine.

-Yeah, fine.

Hold on, hold on.

Who served that, Jackson Pollock?

Look, Steve, you're not supposed to dump the food onto the plate, you're supposed to present it.

Now, give it to me.

No, no.

What?

Well, I can't give it to you, Chef.

Steve, stop messing about.

-Give me the plate.

-No, I can't.

-Sorry.

-[plate shattering] Oh, dear.

I'll clean it up then.

Yeah, the same thing happened at my last place.

The chef just cracked up.

He had to be sedated.

Who is Jackson Pollock?

Oh, no, no, I haven't got the time.

[pigs squealing] [dog barking] It's them!

Food police!

[dramatic music] Stay where you are!

Colin, he's got a gun!

You won't take me and you won't take my pigs!

Seymour, it's me, Colin.

Please, put the gun down.

And look, here's Serena.

Don't shoot!

I'll hold my ground as long as I draw breath.

So, go back to Brussels and tell them that!

Brussels?

What's the old fool talking about?

Seymour, it's Colin Smallwood.

Hilary's nephew.

Don't you remember me?

What's that about Hilary?

I'm her nephew!

What?

Oh, it's you!

What the bloody hell do you want?

It's Hilary.

She's gone missing.

We thought she might be here.

Well, of course she's not here!

Now, get off my land before I give you both barrels!

No, no, no!

[gun firing] [Seymour collapsing] Colin!

[light music] Hallelujah.

I don't believe it.

She's actually finished.

I won't eat anything, she said.

I'm too old.

Nothing wrong with her appetite.

Must be all those blokes she's had.

I beg your pardon?

Oh, I gave Henderson some biographical details.

I will not stand for any disrespect.

I've got great respect for nookie on a grand scale.

Yeah, dream on, Henderson.

All right, you lot.

Push off, I'll see you tonight.

Right, see ya.

-Bye.

-Bye bye.

I'll talk to you later.

May I?

Enjoy the meal?

It was all right, if you like that sort of thing.

Shall I call a taxi to take you home?

Seymour asked me to marry him, you know?

Hundreds of times.

If I'd said, yes, I'd be living in Seymour's hovel, instead of that other place.

I can't think which would be worse.

I shall have to phone them, you know, tell them where you are.

I'm not going back there, you know.

I shall just have to stay here for the time being.

You can take me to my room now.

Right.

Who are you?

Who are you?

I am Hilary Smallwood.

I might have guessed.

Well, I am Margaret Crabbe.

So, you're the wife?

I see.

Bring me a whiskey and water, a finger of each.

Tap water, mind, and no ice.

Right.

[cane stamping] Young lady, the reading light in my room is inadequate.

Please, do something about it.

She asked me to change the reading light in her room.

She's not staying, Margaret.

Oh, I should hope not.

So, you're the wife.

Look, she's old and she's upset.

So am I. Colin Smallwood is coming to collect her, but he has to drive all the way back from Brighton first.

See, that's where she normally goes when she does a runner, either to Brighton or to Seymour Flint's.

Well, I suppose we can add Pie in the Sky to the list.

I went to see her solicitor, you know?

Oh, Henry!

He's not a solicitor anymore, is he?

But he wanted a doctor to be present when Hilary signed the what's-it-called?

Enduring Power of Attorney.

Enduring Power of Attorney.

Thank you.

And Colin Smallwood refused.

So?

Well, it hardly makes him sound trustworthy, does it?

The poor man must be spending a fortune on that nursing home.

What exactly can be in it for him?

Well, a lot if they've found the memoirs.

Oh yes, the famous memoirs.

Well, I wonder what happened to them.

Excuse me.

[soft music] [dramatic music] [voices clamoring] Good evening, sir.

Can I help you?

I believe Hilary Smallwood is somewhere on the premises.

Yes, sir.

Ah.

A little present, dear boy.

Salted pig's ears.

The ladies love 'em.

Do press one on your good lady wife.

Well, yes, yes.

I'm sure she'll enjoy it.

Thank you very much, Seymour.

Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to the kitchen.

Great news, Hilary.

[Hilary] What?

I found it.

-Found what?

-Your manuscript.

Oh, good job, too, Seymour.

I put it in my safe first, you see, but that doesn't lock, so.

Oh, yes, yes.

I've heard that saga already.

You can't stay here, you know, Hilary?

Why not?

Henry is my friend.

You've got to stop swanning about, making a nuisance of yourself.

That's what I do, is it?

It's what you've always done.

And I'm the only person left who will put up with it.

You can come and live with me, of course.

Oh, don't start that again.

After 50 years, I thought we'd sorted that one out.

Vanity of the woman!

I didn't mean live with me like that.

If only Eddie were here.

Well, he's not.

So there.

And I am.

Seymour, you're being very irritating.

Why don't you bugger off back to your pigs?

Yes, well it's time I got back.

The dogs will be eating the seats in the Land Rover.

Try and be a good girl, Hilary.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

The Chef thought you might like an omelet.

I couldn't possibly eat that.

Well, I'm not surprised, after the lunch you put away.

Sit down.

What's your name?

Nicola.

You're very pretty.

Thanks.

I was never pretty.

Well, you did all right, from what I hear.

Prettiness and sex appeal are two very different things.

The two don't necessarily go together, you know?

Do you have many lovers?

Well, I'm working on it.

Let me give you a piece of advice.

Don't be witty with men.

It frightens them off.

It's all right to make jokes, but don't be witty.

Well, I'd like to meet a man who could tell the difference.

Eddie could tell the difference.

And I let him go.

Wasn't that foolish?

Who's Eddie?

Mrs. Smallwood, Chef asked me to tell you that Colin's here.

Oh!

-I'd better get back to work.

-Wait, wait.

Quickly.

You must hide this.

When my nephew's gone, give it to Henry.

-Hurry.

-Where shall I put it?

Anywhere, as long as it's out of sight.

Hurry.

-Quickly.

-[tense music] -How's that?

-Excellent, excellent.

Now, off you go.

And not a word.

Is she all right?

We've been so worried.

Well, as far as I know, she's fine.

Did she bring anything with her?

Do you mean the memoirs?

How do you know about them?

Seymour Flint told me.

Oh, that horrible old man.

I'm quite fond of Seymour, actually.

He told me, also, about your hopes to republish all the books, very far-sighted.

It's all for Hilary's benefit, you know?

She doesn't seem to think so.

Well, she's very old.

She doesn't take everything in.

Crabbe, will you please tell me, has Hilary given you the manuscript?

No.

I had to ask.

You do understand?

Oh, yeah.

I understand you very well, indeed.

Hilary, darling.

How are you?

We were so worried.

Who's that?

Come on, Hilary.

Fun and games are over.

Eddie?

We've gone all the way to Brighton chasing after you.

Is that you, Eddie?

Who's Eddie when he's at home?

God knows.

Yes, it's Eddie, if that makes you happy.

Eddie was the man on Albert Bridge.

What?

-Uh, nothing.

-Have you come to take me home, Eddie?

That's right.

Eddie's come to take you home.

Yes, take me home, please.

I'd like that very much.

Bye, Hilary.

[somber music] Poor, old Hilary.

What's that?

Well, she's not exactly 100%, is she?

To Henry Crabbe, who has the gift.

With much love, Hilary Smallwood.

You see, the trouble with Steve is he's jealous of you.

Jealous of me?

Yeah.

No, he is, well, just think about it.

See, there you are in the dining room, right?

Dealing with the customers, face-to-face, at ease, using your many social skills.

True.

And there he is stuck in the kitchen.

The perpetual back room boy, out of sight, out of mind.

He just needs to feel appreciated, that's all.

I never thought of it that way before.

Well, there you are then.

John's jealous of me?

Do me a favor.

Well, of course he is.

It's obvious, isn't it?

I mean, that's why he's giving you such a hard time.

The poor waiter's just a middle man.

He's at everyone's beck and call.

You're the creative one.

Yeah, right.

I never thought of that.

Oh, nice one, Chef!

-What's in it?

-Pork and apple.

It's for Hilary.

She's been ill recently.

So, I thought I'd visit her today and take this.

That is, if you lot can get on without me.

Please.

[soft music] Henry, she took a turn for the worse during the night, dear boy.

The doctors say she's very weak.

I'm afraid I don't hold out much hope.

She's rallied slightly.

You can go in, if you like.

Thank you.

-Good morning.

-Morning.

Hilary?

Is that you, Seymour?

Yes, it's me.

As James I said, I'm sorry, but I seem to be an unconscionably long time dying.

You're not dying.

And anyway, it was Charles I.

Don't argue with me, Seymour.

Anyway, Charles I was executed.

I think you'll find it was Charles II, actually.

There you are.

According to Henry, we're both wrong.

Henry?

Yes, Hilary.

[somber music] She's gone.

Hi.

I'm sorry about Mrs. Smallwood.

I think she was great.

Indeed, she was.

Now, what are we going to do about Hilary's memoirs?

Her what?

Her manuscript.

You have got it?

I haven't got it.

But I gave it to her that night she was here.

She was going to give it to you.

She didn't give it to me.

I gave it to her in this very room.

You must have seen it.

Brown paper with string and sealing wax.

-[dishes clattering] -Oh!

Oh, I'm sorry!

Now, come on, Nicola.

It's only a glass.

-Don't worry about it.

-No, I don't mean that!

Oh!

Oh, thank Heaven.

I completely forgot.

Sorry.

It wasn't important, was it?

I'll tell you what, I'll go and get a cloth and clean up, shall I?

Doesn't weigh much, does it, a life?

[pensive music] You know, Crabbe, we're the only two people who know that it exists.

We could burn it.

I couldn't do that, Seymour.

You mean, you'd hand it over to the dreaded Colin?

I have to.

Yes, I suppose you do.

You'll be coming to the funeral, of course?

Oh, yes.

Good.

And I hope you'll be attending a little ceremony I've arranged afterwards.

Fine.

Well, as you all know, we are here in accordance with Hilary's last wish, to have her ashes scattered in the Thames by Albert Bridge.

And those of you who've read the appropriate book will understand the role that this bridge played in Hilary's life.

And those of you who haven't, well, too bad.

But first, I want to read you Hilary's introduction to the book, which acts as a fitting epitaph, I think.

There are those who would say that a life devoted, that a life.

There are those who would say that a life devoted to food, cooking it, eating it, writing about it, even dreaming about it, is a frivolous life, an indulgent life.

I would disagree.

If we do not care what we eat, we do not care for ourselves.

And if we do not care for ourselves, how can we care for others?

Thank you, dear boy.

Well, here goes.

I do hope I've got the wind right.

I don't want Hilary all over my only decent suit.

[both laughing] [happy music] You know what Hilary wrote in that book about how you had the gift?

Well, she was definitely in her right mind when she wrote that.

Can we go now?

Ooh, have you got the parcel, Margaret?

Thank you.

Hilary's manuscript!

Darling, how marvelous!

With a bit of luck, this could prove a proper little page-turner.

Not here, man.

Have you no sense of occasion?

Wild duck with apricot stuffing?

Syllabub?

Beefsteak with oysters?

These are recipes!

Bakewell tart.

It's nothing but recipes!

Hilary's recipes!

For God's sake, be careful, man!

It's nothing but bloody recipes!

[Colin shouting] Colin, we wanted memoirs, memoirs!

Lamb's head with brain sauce.

How about that for tomorrow's set lunch, Henry?

Well, I almost had her recipe for eel pie, but the wind caught and blew it right across the river.

Now, that would have gone on the menu.

She knew what she was doing, did Hilary.

Yes, she knew her stuff.

I think Margaret was referring to the memoirs that never were.

It was a brilliant way of making sure that she wasn't neglected.

Well, she certainly got me going.

All my lovers are in there, Seymour, she used to say.

Not a single one left out.

She had me jealous to the last.

Night, all.

Are the others all gone?

Yeah.

I don't know what's got into Steve and John, but they've actually gone for a drink together down the Anglers.

-You're joking.

-No.

I'd like to be a fly on that particular wall.

[upbeat music] That's two shots, innit, Jim?

All right, mate.

It's great, innit?

-What?

-I said, it's great here.

Fascinating.

Here.

Cheers.

Look, Steve, I'll do a deal with you.

Oh yeah, what's that?

If I don't have to come here again, you don't have to read War and Peace.

Deal.

[bright music] [light music]