Season 1 Episode 2 | 52m 51s | Video has closed captioning.
Frances must learn diplomacy if she is to oust Joyce, while Miriam has one last chance to stop David enlisting and Teresa gets off to a bad start in the village.
Aired: 10/12/15
Expired: 12/31/69
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I have lung cancer, Erica.
What?
I demand a vote of no confidence in the president.
I offer my immediate resignation.
Delicious!
What did you do?
I added the delicious.
You can't enlist.
You can't stop me when I'm 17.
(engines roaring) WOMAN: It is Great Paxford's new Women's Institute.
Look after me.
"Home Fires," tonight on Masterpiece.
(cows mooing) Left, left, left, right, left!
Left, left, left, right, left!
Morning, Stan.
♪ I can see them talking ♪ ♪ But I only hear the voices in my head ♪ ♪ Waiting for the moment they'll be calling to me ♪ Stan!
♪ And if I try ♪ ♪ I'll remember all the words I've never said ♪ ♪ Only now the others hold no meaning for me ♪ ♪ I see with wide open eyes of blindness ♪ ♪ I leave the ever calling cries in silence ♪ ♪ Every place we go, we shouldn't go ♪ ♪ We see, we shouldn't see ♪ ♪ We know, we'll never know ♪ ♪ We'll go, then all I want ♪ ♪ All I see ♪ ♪ All I fear is waiting for me ♪ ♪ ♪ Left, left, left, right, left!
David!
David!
David!
(panting) DAVID: Ma!
Ma!
Ma!
Ma!
What're you doing?
I... Ma, this is me.
It's David.
(crying) (wheelbarrow rattling) Steph!
Is now a bad time?
Depends.
The Institute has been tasked by the government to help increase food production.
Jam-making aside, it occurred to me that you were the obvious person to teach us what to do on a larger scale.
Well, it all comes down to how much land you've got to grow on.
Well, in principle, we can requisition any spare land we find.
So how much is that?
You mean an actual number?
Do you think farmers get up every morning and guess their way through the day?
Actual numbers-- acres, yards and feet.
Pat, more tea!
(clock ticking) Pat!
About half of that, please, Bryn.
Half?
Better make it a third.
Right.
Hello, Miriam.
(crying) Uh, that's one and six.
Thank you.
What's going on?
Search me.
(sniffling) I'm sorry.
Why'd you rush out?
When the recruits ran past, one of them turned to me, and I...
I could've sworn it was David.
What?
I saw David and panicked and ran out to pull him away before they kill him.
No one's going to kill him.
But isn't that how you win wars?
By killing more boys than the other side?
You've got to stop thinking like this.
I can't.
Hey.
I came back last time, didn't I?
It won't be the same as last time.
Better ways to kill now.
Besides...
He's not you.
(bells chiming) SARAH: Behaving as if you were already president before the other members have voted for you is a bit... Don't you think there's something rather Joyce-like about that?
This pitch alone would yield over 100,000 square feet of prime agricultural land.
Why would anyone want to play cricket on it when it could be used to feed people?
Because not everyone thinks like you.
Not yet.
But they will.
I've been giving Joyce a great deal of thought recently and I've come to the rather startling conclusion that perhaps she wasn't all bad.
Joyce Cameron?
Well, like her or loathe her, she's a born leader.
Morning, Ladies!
The cricket season isn't over yet.
My advice would be to tread very carefully.
Leadership is about commanding the herd when the moment demands.
It's about seizing them by the horns firmly with both hands and hauling them in the right direction.
And the right direction being your direction?
I'm glad you agree.
It was a question.
I don't think it was, actually.
No, no, it was.
I really don't think so.
(barks) Morning, Pat.
Morning.
I'm home!
(clock ticking) What time do you call this?
I wondered where you were.
Where were you?
I wasn't gone long.
That wasn't my question.
Are you deliberately trying to impede my recovery?
Why would you say such a thing?
I wake up exhausted, needing a drink.
I call out for you... nothing.
No note.
No idea where you'd gone or what time you'd be back.
I should have left a note, I'm sorry.
Why were you so long?
I was trying to make the housekeeping last as long as I can.
It takes time to judge what's affordable and what isn't.
What, are you saying I don't give you enough?
No, of course not.
If I had been able to finish my novel by now, we would have had more money coming in.
You are this close, Patricia, yes?
I had to buy food.
No, you buy food when I tell you to buy food.
And when I tell you to buy food, you only buy the food I tell you to buy, yes?
Yes.
Don't look at me like that.
Without you holding me back, I would have had so much more success.
You're like a dead weight around my neck.
I need to go to the lavatory.
When I say you can go, you can go.
Please.
What did I just say?
(sobbing) Go on.
Before you humiliate yourself.
(door opens and closes) (crying) (door opens and closes) Third mother in two weeks to beg me to diagnose something that would render her son unfit for active service.
She actually took out an envelope and placed her life savings on the desk by way of inducement.
It's sheer desperation.
The last thing you need in your condition is that kind of pressure.
I think I can handle it, Erica.
Even in my "condition."
Why don't I try weeding them out before they come through?
They don't require weeding out, they require compassion, which I think I'm still able to muster without collapsing completely.
I wasn't suggesting you weren't.
Weren't you?
Any more appointments this afternoon?
Not until this evening.
Good.
If you need me, me and my condition will be taking things very, very calmly in the Horse and Groom.
I may not be fit for the Army-- or much else, as things have turned out-- but I can still manage to light a pipe and lift a bloody beer glass.
Will... (door opens and closes) (growling) Sorry.
There are a couple of boxes of George's things I've still to remove from the room.
Want to work out where I'm going to put them, so... Well, put your case and boxes on the bed for now.
(dog growling softly) It's so kind of you to take me in like this, Mrs. Scotlock.
We could hardly allow our new teacher to be homeless.
Boris!
(stops growling) I'm not sure he agrees with that.
Boris doesn't really do "sharing."
To be fair, he's never really had to.
He's all mouth and trousers.
Take him for a walk and he'll love you forever.
(barks) Boris!
I'll pop this upstairs.
(growls) I can't thank you enough for this.
Let's hope Boris and I aren't too long in the tooth for it.
Well, we would have taken her, but for the RAF officers being billeted with us.
I'm assuming she doesn't know Joyce is behind having the school cottage requisitioned?
Joyce has a lot to feel vengeful about at the moment.
I don't want Teresa knowing that she's in her line of fire.
(clears throat) It's so lovely to see you all here, as we convene for our first meeting in wartime.
What the next months will deliver is unknown.
But what is known is that together, we shall endure whatever the future will throw at us.
For none understands the true cost of war better than women.
For it is we alone who are left to count the cost in the currency of loved ones lost and injured.
And I want to move swiftly on to my plan for the next year: to turn every available square foot of land in the village towards food production.
I am proposing we begin... by plowing up the cricket pitch.
(women murmuring) Oh no, make no mistake, ladies.
There will be thousands of villages across the land doing the same, each making their contribution to the nation's larder.
If we plow up the pitch, we run the risk of turning the cricketers against us.
Not to mention the men who watch.
Is it worth pushing this through at the cost of such colossal resentment?
They'll come round in time.
Besides, many of them won't be here for much longer, don't forget.
(women murmuring) I'm sorry.
I didn't mean that the way it sounded.
JOYCE: Didn't you?
Easy for you to advocate plowing up the cricket pitch, Mrs. Barden, when your husband never goes near it.
Growing produce is a way for women to invest skills they acquired in peacetime and to take the lead.
I'm surprised you can't see this.
Oh, I see plenty.
I was on my way home from a District Council meeting and I felt that it was my responsibility to inform you of a decision to requisition this hall for the RAF.
ALL: What?
Which means that this will be your last meeting here for the foreseeable future.
Was there really no other building that the committee could have chosen?
Well, it was a heated debate, but in the end, an unassailable argument was made.
By you, no doubt.
Your committee will receive official notification by the end of the week.
Ah, except there doesn't seem to be a committee to receive it, just Mrs. Barden.
We were coming on to that.
An extraordinary general meeting will still need to be held, at which a secret ballot will be required to vote in the right person to be president, whoever she might be.
Good evening, ladies.
I'll see you again soon, no doubt.
(women murmuring) (tea cups clinking) Oh, don't be alarmed!
Contrary to Joyce's insinuation, I'm not planning world domination, but scouring the village from on high for a building that might accommodate the WI, now that our hall's been requisitioned in malice.
Malice?
Oh, you don't imagine for one moment that Joyce would have allowed the hall to be requisitioned if she were still president?
Wouldn't she?
Claire... War is driven by propaganda on all sides.
Now more than ever, you really need to question the mere surface of things.
Look beneath to what's really taking place.
I suppose.
So, have you found anywhere else?
I've narrowed it down to three barns and the pub.
(bicycle bell ringing) What would you think about meeting upstairs at the Horse and Groom?
Claire?
Hello!
Ah!
Just the one.
For Mrs. Barden.
Thank you.
How do you like working here compared to the Camerons?
If I said I much prefer it, how do I know you won't go telling other people?
Come again?
People don't always mean what they say, do they?
You know, especially now.
Now?
Well, during war.
With all the propaganda and everything.
Well, I wouldn't lie to you, Miss Hillman.
You didn't tell me you had a sweetheart.
I didn't tell you because... well, she isn't.
It looked like it to me.
Claire, Jenny's just a girl I see from time to time.
What else is a sweetheart?
A girl you want to see all the time.
Is that the truth?
Or more propaganda?
Or... both?
FRANCES: Claire, might it be possible to have my post?
Well.
Bye, then.
Bye, then.
Claire.
Mmm.
Thank you.
Mmm.
(laughs) Put your tongue away before it gets caught in your spokes.
(whistling softly) I've been through everything four times, Mr. Driscoll, and each time, I find a difference between what your outgoings should be this quarter based on previous quarters, and what they actually are.
I see.
Because everything else seems to be pretty constant month on month, so...
I wanted to see you in case I've missed something.
Well, maybe you have, Mrs. Scotlock.
That's a relief-- what have I missed?
The Prices of Goods Act coming into force in November.
So... these are adjusted figures?
The government has a duty to protect this country, Mrs. Scotlock, and I have a duty to protect my margins.
The act is to prevent profiteering.
Odd how making a profit is perfectly acceptable during peacetime, but during the war, they add a couple of syllables and it suddenly becomes a dirty word.
Mr. Driscoll... Major firms will be allowed to get away with murder because they're too big to take on.
People like Peter Barden will make a fortune turning his factory over to war production.
If these are the books you wish me to work from, then I'm afraid I'm unable to help you.
You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.
Isn't that the British way?
I'm sorry, it isn't my way.
Shame.
Because I've no desire to take my business elsewhere.
Nor will many of your other clients from the chamber of commerce.
The thing about war is you have to decide whose side you're on.
And we all want you on our side, Mrs. Scotlock.
Very much.
Well, I wish I could be of more help, but I can't.
I'm sorry.
Good day, Mr. Driscoll.
I thought now might be a good time for a little chat.
(sighs) What's wrong with wanting to fight for my country?
Nothing.
And let's get one thing straight: I'm not looking to stop you.
Ma is.
She doesn't want to see you hurt, David.
Or worse.
I'm not going to die, if that's what she's thinking.
She still thinks I'm a child.
David... All I want to ask is that you don't join up.
I thought you said you didn't want to stop me!
I want you to give your ma time to get used to the idea that you will eventually go.
If this carries on, they'll come for you soon enough.
Give her time to accept it.
You're trying to trick me.
No.
I did what you're planning to your gran, last time round.
Joined up and buggered off before anyone could stop me.
No regard for anyone else.
Found out later it nearly killed her.
You want to show your ma you're no longer a child, David?
Give her this.
Wait to be called.
(growling) Are you sure he'll actually walk with me?
Dogs are pack animals.
They just need to know who's in charge, and once it's made very clear it isn't them... (whimpering) ...they're perfectly happy.
Once he sees me give you the lead, he'll be putty in your hands.
Just give me an hour to get the place straight and I guarantee you'll come back firm friends.
Right.
(barks) I am now showing Boris that I'm handing control of him to you.
Well, at least he's not growling anymore.
Now, if he starts, just ignore him and he'll soon get the message that you're not remotely impressed.
Grow.
Up.
Come on, dog!
Good dog.
(barking) Come on!
(barking) Steady on!
(barking) What can you smell, eh?
What is it?
I don't think your mistress would be too chuffed with you coming home with that hanging from your jaws.
Come on, Boris, come away!
Oh!
Boris!
Boris!
You stupid animal, for goodness sake!
Boris!
You come back here this instant!
SPENCER: It's just... Jenny, I'm busy this weekend.
I won't be able to see you.
Oh, please.
I haven't seen you... No.
Maybe next weekend.
Excuse me!
Sorry, excuse me.
Do you, uh... Do you work here?
I do, why?
Is the situation for a telephone operator still available?
Boris!
Boris!
Boris!
Please, Boris!
What about him?
Where is he?
He pulled the lead out of me hand chasing rabbits.
You let him go?
No, he pulled suddenly, very hard.
That's what dogs do!
They pull on the lead!
Your job is to hold on!
I'm so sorry.
Where is he?
Teresa, where's my dog?!
I don't know.
Boris!
Boris!
Boris!
(horn honking) Boris!
(engine shuts off) (whimpering) Boris!
Boris!
If he won't come for me, he's hardly going to come for you!
Boris!
(knocking) If it's a patient for your father, take a name and he'll call them later.
I'm not decent!
It's wet hair, Kate.
Beneath a towel.
Unless it's the King, I'm sure whoever it is will turn a blind eye.
I've a dog in the car bleeding to death.
There was no time to get it to the nearest vet, so I asked to be directed to the nearest doctor.
My father's... on a call.
At the Horse and Groom.
Laura!
Well, he is.
You're a pilot.
Look, unless somebody who knows what they're doing gets onto it immediately, the poor little bugger hasn't long to live.
Get dad's bag!
You get it.
For Christ's sake, would one of you get the damn bag?
Sandwiches, coffee, cordial, newspaper, book, notebook and pen, and extra pillow.
I think that's all you might need while I'm out.
How long will you be?
Uh, two hours and 15 minutes.
Very precise.
You've encouraged me to be more diligent about my timekeeping and I've decided to try harder.
May I go?
I'll see you in precisely two hours.
That won't be long enough.
It'll have to be, yes?
Very well.
How is he?
I think I've stemmed the bleeding, but he needs proper veterinary attention.
Will he survive 12 miles?
If you go as quickly as you were presumably going when you hit him.
I didn't hit him, doctor.
I found him lying in the middle of the road.
You'll need someone to hold Boris while you drive.
I will!
And I'll help.
Not enough room for both.
As fast as you can, without killing my daughter.
Yes, sir.
(whimpering) I'll go and tell Mrs. Scotlock.
Dad.
Hands.
Late.
I'm sorry I'm late.
My husband...
Either arrive on time or don't bother.
Your choice.
ALISON: Can you put me through to the vet, please?
Yes, Alison, putting you through to the vet now.
Thank you.
Wrong!
Really?
Use of first name.
Wrong.
But she's a friend.
In the exchange, we have no friends.
We merely connect.
We do not hobnob.
Oh hello, it's Mrs. Scotlock telephoning for news about Boris.
Boris, yes.
Thank you.
I'm so, so sorry, Mrs. Scotlock.
Please stop apologizing.
It wasn't your fault.
You wouldn't think it to look at him, but when Boris picks up the scent of rabbits, he comes over all murderous.
I should have... Hello?
Yes?
Thank you.
Thank you.
He woke up from the anesthetic and tried to bite the vet.
Oh, thank God!
They think he'll pull through.
I'm so happy I didn't kill your dog!
Well, don't spoil it by killing me.
Oh!
I'm sorry.
And stop apologizing.
For everything.
From now.
I will.
I'm sorry.
(laughs) I will.
Hitting me with that ball.
Nothing less than an all-out bloody war in the medium of cricket.
Mr. Simms!
Busy?
The cricket pavilion always looks a bit worse for wear towards the end of the season.
Stumps and I generally do some repairs this time of year.
Is there much point now?
Now?
Well, now the WI are agitating to have the pitch dug over for flowers.
Sorry, they're what?
Well, there's a rumor that the WI want to commandeer the cricket pitch for flowers.
Flowers?
Mmm.
To bring some cheer to the village in the dark days ahead.
Over our dead body.
Well, nothing to do with me, of course.
I'm no longer a member.
Good day, gentlemen.
Good day.
The polish only actually polishes if it's applied to the banister.
I'm sorry.
What's his name, then?
This boy?
Well, it's the postman, isn't it?
Doesn't he already have a girl?
I'm sure I've seen him round the village with someone on his arm.
From the telephone exchange.
He says it's not serious.
Not serious?
That's what a man says when he's out to play the field.
Don't be his field!
Couldn't he just be being honest?
Million reasons men stick with a woman that have nothing to do with love.
You have to find out what he is.
He's a postman.
No, girl, that's what he does.
Oh.
Is he a ditherer or a scoundrel?
The first, you can fix.
The second, you can't.
Claire!
We seem to have a problem with our telephone line.
Would you run down to the exchange and ask them to have a root around?
Now?
Or when I finish the banisters?
I'll finish them.
You go and ask what's wrong with the line.
All right.
When I decided to chase Peter down, scouting out the opposition was a good place to start.
Of course, if a caller identifies your voice, as they often do with mine because it's quite distinctive, and they use your name, then it's fine to use theirs back.
Or to give you an example...
I'm afraid I'm going to have to go.
I haven't finished explaining the protocol if your voice is recognized.
Then you can admit to recognizing theirs?
That's correct.
Same time next week?
The shift doesn't end for another 15 minutes.
My husband isn't well and he'll worry if I'm not home by quarter past.
Well, um... (knocking) I suppose that'll have to be enough for today.
Oh, I didn't know you worked here, Mrs. Simms.
She doesn't yet.
No, I've...
I've just completed my first training session.
Well, despite your age, you seem like a quick enough learner.
Job's yours if you want it.
Thank you so much!
You're an excellent teacher of the elderly.
See you next week.
Did you want something?
The Bardens are having trouble with their telephone line.
Hmm?
We just put a call through to Mrs. Barden.
She seemed to hear everything perfectly clearly.
Oh, you must've fixed it.
How clever.
What did you do?
Nothing.
I expect Spencer appreciates that.
Your, um, humility.
What do you actually want?
To tell you about the Bardens' line.
You told me.
It's working.
Excellent.
Now let me tell you something.
Spencer's the only lad around here that doesn't reek of manure... and I've got him.
So hands... off.
(sighs) You're late.
Only by a minute, Bob.
Punctuality is an absolute, Pat.
One either is or one is not.
There is no halfway house.
I'm sorry, Bob.
I'll do better next time.
If there is a next time.
I wanted to talk to you about flowers.
Flowers?
Mmm.
Inside.
I still think whoever hit him should have stopped.
You know, it's common bloody decency!
Pardon my French.
Don't worry, I don't speak French.
(laughs) People round here get used to animals leaping out into the road.
Rabbits, foxes, pheasants, deer.
Sheep, of course.
The odd cat.
Sounds like a bloodbath.
People think the countryside's lovely and green.
But the truth is, it's tinged with red.
(laughing) (door opens) Well, thank you again.
There is one last thing.
I was wondering about lunch tomorrow.
You wouldn't be free by any chance?
Atrocious first impression, I'm afraid.
First night here, and I knocked it off the stand.
I'll replace it, of course.
No, don't you dare!
No, I despise that lamp with a passion.
Adam's great-aunt gave us that as a wedding gift, and try as I have over the years to get rid of it, Adam insists we can't, in the event that she visits and expects to see it.
Then I'll replace it with a different one.
Well, that offer I will accept, thank you.
Well, if you need anything else damaged beyond repair, I'm your man.
(chuckles) Oh, by the way, we're eating at the mess tonight.
Sorry, I should have mentioned it earlier.
It's not a problem.
MIRIAM: Add onions to the skillet, cooking and stirring until they're softened but not brown, then pop the brisket back in, add a quart of beef broth, tablespoon of fresh herbs.
Beautiful.
Thank you.
All right.
I've been thinking.
I've decided I'm not going until I get the call-up.
What?
I want to go with your blessing.
Or at least the next best thing you can give me.
I want to go as soon as I can, but I'll wait until I'm called.
If it helps.
It does.
A bit.
Thank you.
I am going to go, Ma.
It's just a question of when.
I understand that.
But it's difficult for me.
You're my only child.
I know.
You all right?
Mm-hmm.
(lightly sobbing) MAN: You can lead a horse to water... WOMAN: Don't mean he'll jump ship for Claire.
Bird in the hand.
There's no magic there.
Trust me.
It's a question of when he throws her over, not if.
WOMAN: Don't mean he's good enough for her.
MAN: No.
But it gives her a clear path to find out.
(door closes) I've come to ask you to stop coming here every day after surgery.
I like coming here every day after surgery.
I can have a drink here, and a smoke, and nobody tells me to be calm or to lie down for the good of my health.
I'm trying to deal with your illness as best I can.
And I know I'm not making a very good job of it.
But be patient with me, because I'm... ...absolutely terrified at the prospect of losing you and I don't know what else to... (sobbing): I'm so scared.
I know, I know you are.
Supper will be ready in an hour.
Why don't I come home and help?
You can finish your drink first.
I've had enough.
(sheep bleating) (birds chirping) (knocking) Whoever it is, please, you don't need to knock.
Oh!
Good morning!
Good morning.
Delivery?
To replace the one I broke.
It's... Oh, it's hideous, Padre.
Yes.
So much worse than the other one.
I know, but every time I look at it, I'll be reminded to be more careful in someone else's home.
Well, thank you.
(laughs) Why don't you sit down?
I'm fine where I am.
No man in his right mind calls for a girl an hour early.
I haven't been here an hour.
Oh, an hour and six minutes.
Leave your sister alone.
RAF boys are notoriously flighty.
I'd never step out with one.
WILL: One hasn't asked you.
He's here!
See you later.
Have a nice time.
Shall we?
You look... terrific.
Thank you.
Someone seems to have made quite an impression.
Young, handsome trainee pilot who's kind to animals?
Can't imagine why.
I'm surprised you let her go.
You know nothing about him.
(engine starts up) Afternoon, ladies.
ALL: Afternoon.
How are you finding your new lodgers?
Oh, they keep a low profile.
(banging from ceiling) It's a bit like having my house invaded by very polite mice wearing extremely large boots.
(laughing) And you?
Once we got beyond Teresa losing my dog, we seem to be getting on.
I do sometimes forget there's another person there.
I'm endlessly spinning in terror at the sound of her footsteps, which we're both finding unnerving.
(laughs) But hopefully it's a passing phase.
MIRIAM: You don't want to underestimate how much the women have been getting it in the neck from the men about losing the cricket pitch to flowers.
Flowers?
There's a rumor going around that we want to turn the cricket pitch over to flowers to make the village look prettier during wartime.
That's nothing less than deliberate misinformation.
How can the men believe it?
Oh, men have a tendency to believe whatever supports their existing prejudice.
Joyce is on the march, Frances.
You have to take her seriously as an opposing candidate for the presidency.
Joyce has also been going round saying that a vote for her is a vote for peace and quiet at home.
Then we must tell the ladies to be more robust.
Or... Or?
Do I sense the tone of appeasement?
No, you sense the tone of someone suggesting that we'll face many battles in the days ahead, and we need to choose which are worth fighting and which are not.
The village are in complete support of our food production drive.
Just not at the expense of the cricket pitch.
Lose the vote for plowing it up and we lose everything.
I think your sister's suggesting stepping back from the cricket pitch in order to gain everything.
Because then you'll likely win the presidency and lead us to victories in more important battles.
Thank you, Steph.
That is precisely what I've been trying to say.
(sighs) One of the consequences of flight training is that it robs you of your capacity to see specific shapes in clouds.
No cats or dogs?
No.
No Mickey Mouse, or a witch's face?
I just see a good cloud from which to mount an ambush.
A good cloud to hide in to escape an attack.
Ones to avoid for updraft and wind shear.
Basically clouds that might help keep me alive, clouds that might... What do you see now?
I see you.
Keep looking.
Oh, I shall.
(lively conversations) (men fall quiet) You know which way to vote, Pat.
(friendly greetings) Good luck with the vote, Mrs. Cameron.
Very good luck to you.
Good evening.
(clears throat) Thank you, ladies, and welcome to our new headquarters.
Not ideal, but needs must.
There are two urgent matters why this meeting has been called tonight.
The first concerns the cricket pitch, and the latter concerns electing the next president of this Institute.
The cricket pitch should remain sacrosanct.
The lads have worked hard!
They need to let off steam.
A sentiment I agree with wholeheartedly.
Which is why I propose that the cricket pitch be left alone until the cricket team completes any remaining fixtures.
(murmurs of approval) All those in favor?
Carried.
And so to the vote for the next president.
There are only two nominees: myself and Mrs. Cameron.
In accordance with WI policy, we will carry out the vote by secret ballot, overseen by our voluntary county supervisor, Mrs. Summers, and counted by Mrs. Scotlock.
JOYCE: When I was president, it wasn't necessary for the nominees to wait outside during the ballot.
Because your pals had already ensured the outcome, through fear and favor.
It's called politics, Mrs. Barden.
The members are sheep to be driven towards whichever opinion you want them to uphold.
I once thought that.
But I've realized there's more to be said for seeking a consensus.
Mrs. Barden, have you ever wondered what might be achieved if we joined forces?
I beg your pardon?
We both know what we want.
Neither of us suffer fools gladly.
We're cut from the same cloth, Mrs. Barden, and I think you know it.
What are you proposing, Mrs. Cameron?
A Ministry of All Talents?
We'd be a formidable team, unstoppable.
And please, call me Joyce.
Ladies!
The votes have been counted.
If the candidates would like to come back into the room.
Unstoppable, Mrs. Barden?
Unthinkable, Mrs. Cameron.
It gives me great pleasure to announce... ...that Mrs. Barden is the new president of our Institute!
(applause) (bells chiming) Morning!
♪ ♪ Is that all they want to know?
Who's living here?
Mm-hmm.
So the government knows who they can call on to fight and who they can't.
Makes sense.
DAVID: I've decided I'm not going until I get called.
(knocking) (knocking continues) National Registration form?
Yes.
Many thanks.
Good day.
Next time on Masterpiece... PAT: This may be the time for our men to fight.
Go.
This is our time, too.
They reckon it'll be over soon.
(screaming): What about me?!
Then why don't we get married?
You leave me no choice but to pretend we didn't have this conversation.
"Home Fires," next time on Masterpiece.
♪ I can see them talking ♪ ♪ But I only hear the voices in my head ♪ ♪ Waiting for the moment they'll be calling to me... ♪ Visit us at pbs.org/masterpiece to watch video and explore features, and follow us on Facebook, Twitter and other social media.
To order this program on Blu-ray or DVD, or the original novel, visit shopPBS.org or call us at 1-800-PLAY-PBS.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org
