Mrs Henderson Presents

Forasmuch as it has pleased

Almighty God of his great mercy,

to take unto himself the soul

of our dear brother here departed...

...we therefore commit his body

to the ground...

...earth to earth,

ashes to ashes...

...dust to dust.

So sorry, my dear Mrs Henderson.

Your husband

was a great friend to my country.

That's so kind of you.

Please join us at the house

for a small luncheon in his honour.

Thank you so much, Leslie...

but I think I'll take my own car.

Madam.

I know that Robert would want me to be

available to help you in any way.

Thank you so much.

- He was an estimable man.

- Yes. Yes.

And a very dangerous

business competitor.

Yes.

Oh. Please.

Excuse me.

I am bored with widowhood.

My dear,

you've just scratched the surface.

I have to smile at everybody.

I've never had to do that.

In India, there were always people

to look down on.

People are simply being sympathetic.

After all, you have lost your husband.

I didn't mislay him.

It was most inconsiderate

of Robert to die.

What on earth

am I supposed to do now?

The first rule of widowhood, my dear -

important conversations occur at lunch.

It's really not so bad.

Widows are allowed hobbies.

- Hobbies?

- Yes.

- Embroidery. Things like that.

- Are you mad?

I graduated to weaving.

- Would you care to see my tapestries?

- I'd rather drink ink.

Committees are good, of course.

I serve on quite a few.

Charities.

Once your husband dies,

it's quite permissible to help the poor.

And now there's no-one

to stop you buying things.

Also, of course, there's

a great deal of time for lovers.

- Margot, I'm nearly 70.

- That's true.

But you're also very rich.

The one cancels out the other.

I don't know anything

about embroidery.

Ow! Oh!

Now, I believe we may call it a refuge.

Certainly we do not want any term

alluding to unwed mothers in the title.

Nor do we wish for the public to know

the purpose of the house.

But I've told all my friends I'm helping

to build a home for future bastards.

Sorry.

- Home, madam?

- I need some fresh air. Let's drive.

Yes, madam.

I think I should see Alec.

Hello, Alec.

Let's return to London, please.

I'd rather like to visit

old Windmill Street again.

Good day, madam.

Oh.

- Mind your back.

- Oh!

- Oh, Laura, what on earth?

- Margo.

Renovations, dear.

- But it's a...

- Theatre.

It's a theatre. Isn't it delicious?

- I own it.

- Own it?

You told me now there was no-one

to stop me from buying things,

so I bought a theatre.

I meant bracelets and earrings.

What on earth are you going to do

with a theatre?

Well, I thought music hall, or - what do

they call it in America - vaudeville?

Actually, I haven't thought about it.

Oh, dear.

What am I going to do with it?

Clearly you need someone

to run it for you.

Oh, you think?

Oh, I knew you'd give me

sensible advice.

But who?

Well, that's an easy assignment.

I know just the man.

He's out of work at the moment,

but he's very good at running theatres.

I can't imagine where she is.

She was meant to be here

20 minutes ago.

Well...

...that's that, then.

I can't hang around here all morning.

I've an important meeting to go to.

- I'm sorry, old chum...

- Oh, he was terribly ill in the car.

Nerves, I imagine. Little sweet!

Hello, Leslie.

- Hello.

Whoon earth are you?

- This is Vivian Van Damm.

- Don't be silly.

That's not a British name.

In actual fact,

my father's a lawyer in Bishopsgate.

Although some of his ancestors

are from Holland.

- Oh, dear God, you're Jewish!

- As it happens, I'm not.

Well, of course you are, dear.

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