Paranoiac

This service which

we are holding today...

is in memory

of our dear friends...

John and Mary Ashby...

and their son, Antony.

John and Mary Ashby were known

and loved by you all.

We members of

this little community...

remember them

for their many kindnesses...

they showed

to each and every one of us.

And although it is

11 years since their...

Since we lost them

in such tragic circumstances...

we still remember them

with respect and affection.

How much more poignant...

must be the memories

of the Ashby family...

of Harriet Ashby,

John's sister...

who so gallantly assumed

the responsibility...

of bringing up the children.

Of the children themselves.

Little Eleanor.

What can ever replace

the gap left in her life...

by the death

of her dear mother and father?

And Simon Ashby...

who still plays the organ

in this church occasionally...

as he has done

since he was 15 years old.

How full of sorrow

must his heart be?

For not only did

he suffer the shock...

of losing both his parents...

but, and in circumstances

no less tragic...

the loss of his only brother.

And today...

we must also

remember Antony Ashby...

who, blinded by grief

at the death of his parents...

took his own life.

He was young,

little more than a child.

You've all seen

him sitting here...

a member of this choir.

What he did was sinful

in the eyes of God.

But God is merciful,

and in his mercy...

he would have taken this

little boy into his kingdom...

there to join

the mother and father...

that he had loved

and missed so much.

We will now sing

hymn number 256...

2, 5, 6...

omitting verses

three and four.

Under the circumstances, don't

you think it'd be better...

Yes, of course.

Do you feel better?

What is it?

Nothing.

Did you hear

something that upset you?

No, I'm all right now.

I'm sorry.

We'll go to the fresh air.

You saw what happened?

Vividly, Aunty.

Well, why don't

you go and help her?

Help her? Why should I?

What do we pay

that expensive nurse for?

Do you want a lift, Aunty?

You saw something,

didn't you?

You saw something

at the church.

It frightened you.

No.

No, it didn't frighten me.

What did you see?

Tony.

Tony?

Tony, your brother?

He's come to fetch me.

But, Eleanor, he's dead.

Tell me about him.

They were happy times

when Tony was alive.

At least they

were for me, anyway.

Tony made them that way.

Then suddenly the happy times

were finished.

He wasn't there anymore.

He committed suicide.

That's what they said.

But he did,

he drowned himself.

He left a note.

Yes, he did.

Then how could

you have seen him today?

Unless I'd imagined it?

People who are as close as

Tony and I were in life...

they can't just

be separated by death.

It can't be.

It is, Eleanor.

The living have to face it.

Not if they have faith

in the dead.

And I have faith.

I have faith in Tony.

It's been such a long time,

nearly eight years.

But I knew he'd come for me.

I knew it.

Look, Eleanor,

how could Tony come for you?

I don't know.

Think about it.

Your brother has been dead now

for eight years.

He drowned himself.

He jumped over the cliff.

He must have been smashed

on the rocks.

No, please.

Please, stop it.

All right.

But you cannot

possibly have seen Tony.

He's dead.

Where have you been?

I have been drinking.

Now I am going to drink

some more.

I would have thought

on the day of the service...

What would you

have thought, Aunty?

That I would have on

my sackcloth and ashes?

They've been dead 11 years.

It's your idea to resurrect

them once a year...

and parade them

in front of the villagers.

I suppose respect

for the dead...

would be expecting

a little too much from you.

Come, Aunt Harriet...

this is Simon

you're speaking to now.

Your only concern is to

keep alive the Ashby legend.

The good name of the family.

Now if you'd behave like

a normal human being...

I wouldn't have to.

Before you start

apportioning the blame...

how do you suppose it looked letting

little Eleanor behave like that in public?

Must've given the villagers

a marvelous tidbit.

Your sister is sick.

Sick?

She's very upset, disturbed.

Aunty dear,

my sister's insane.

If you're so concerned about the

good name of the Ashby family...

I think the best thing

you could do...

is to have her certified

as a lunatic...

and locked up.

You'd really like that,

wouldn't you, Simon?

Look who's here, Aunty.

It's little

Miss Florence Nightingale.

What is it, Francoise?

Miss Eleanor asked

to be excused dinner.

Make her come down.

Tell the kitchen...

to send a tray up

to her room.

Nurse...

how is my little sister?

She's upset.

You're a master of

the understatement...

aren't you?

Why don't you admit

she's out of her mind?

I'm a nurse.

Only a doctor could say that.

No, Tony, wait for me.

Please.

Just because you're coming

into some money...

doesn't mean to say you

can behave just as you like.

Yes, Aunt Harriet.

There are certain standards,

you know...

even for the rich.

As an Ashby,

you'll be expected to comply.

Yes, Aunty.

And not make your own rules.

Yes, Aunty.

You realize that,

don't you?

Yes.

Tony.

You don't even try, Simon.

You go around upsetting the neighbors,

antagonizing the local people...

drinking too much.

It's only

because your name's Ashby...

that you haven't landed up

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