We simply must be brave, mustn't we?

Heaven knows it will be hard.

It'll be beastly.

But we're strong people, Tony, you and I. The love we feel for each other, it will endure.

It will endure.

So...I shall stay in my shop... you in yours.

And all I ask is that you don't grow to hate me.

How could I hate you, Madeleine?

You mean everything to me.

[Loud bang] What the hell was that?

[Bell dings] Cut!

Billy, what was that?

Billy: Just a car backfiring I think, Miss Dare.

It sounded like a pistol.

Didn't it sound like a ruddy pistol, Stew?

You all right, my pet?

Yeah, I'm fine.

I think I'm just a bit tired.

Of course, darling, you must be.

Tell you what.

How about a proper dinner after this, like we used to before the war?

Oh, yeah.

That would be wonderful.

None of this canteen muck.

No offense.

[Laughter] Sandra, are you okay?

Yes.

Yes, Jesse, I'm fine.

Don't fuss.

How was my pout at the end?

Was it-- You can do with a dab actually.

[Indistinct voices] Miss Dare only wears Victory Red Besame.

Sandra: Please, can we just stop faffing and get on with it?

Mary, thank you.

Right.

All right.

Ad astra per aspera.

We must have footage.

Abracadabra.

Stew, stop it.

I can't concentrate.

Must have...quiet!

"Lovelorn in London," scene 28, take 3.

[Clack] Action!

Sandra: We simply must be brave, mustn't we?

Heaven knows it will be hard.

It'll be beastly.

But we're strong... ♪ Oh...wow.

Oh, my.

Ha ha.

And this is on his bedroom wall?

Rose red and rolled gold.

I said to him, "Stewart, Stew," I said, "You are just like this paper.

You're so strong and modern."

He handled this very roll.

♪ Can I touch it?

Uh... I shouldn't really, but, um... Well, since you're extras in my cake shop.

[Laughter] ♪ This is the last thing he sees when he gets into bed?

Yes.

And the first thing he sees when he gets up in the morning and his hair is all disarranged?

It's 14 shillings.

♪ Tell you what, it's a bit irregular, but, um, I could let you have a sample for, well... sixpence, say?

And then you could keep a little reminder of him wherever you go.

Oh...yes.

Yeah.

Mm-hmm.

♪ [Engine rumbling] ♪ Keep the change.

Thank you.

Mr.

Book.

I didn't expect a welcoming committee.

I thought I'd better prepare you.

For what?

There have been some changes since you went away on your long errand, Jack.

Oh, by the way, Lord Belborough's first folio, what did they say?

Is it genuine?

As his teeth.

Oh, dear.

[Indistinct voices] What the hell?

Close.

Hollywood.

Or rather, the nearest England can get to it.

Yes, Jack, we're going to be in pictures.

All right, then, let's hear it whenever you're ready.

Life and death.

The whole world is here in this little patch of London town.

You have to do it like that?

[Ahem] Life and death.

The whole world here in this-- No.

I think we'll just lose the line.

I'm already worried about the...mustache.

You'll be smashing in the background, though.

Let's take 10.

Man: 10 minutes, all!

10 minutes!

Billy.

Nerina.

Rather jumpy this morning, isn't she, our dear Sandra?

We work long hours in the picture business, Nerina.

Oh, don't I know it?

And it must be so hard to keep that from telling on the faces of your stars.

If you'll excuse me... Gabriel: Just the exteriors are being done here, you understand.

The rest is at Ladyhurst.

That's the studios.

See, I know all the jargon.

Who's in it?

Morning, Mr.

B. Good morning.

Stewart Howard.

I like him.

He's passed me by entirely, I'm afraid.

He plays the hero, the idealistic young bookshop owner in love with the girl next door.

Did you never see him in that submarine picture?

He went mad and tried to throttle everyone.

I mean, it was proper sweaty.

Alas.

Well, who else?

Patience.

You've literally arrived halfway through this picture, and you've yet to set eyes on our leading lady, who is also Stewart's fiancee, his real-life fiancee.

Sandra Dare.

She's using my room.

They countered my things so she can do her mascara, sip her Vichy water, whatever it is these people do.

I had a cigarette card of her, before the war, of course.

Ah.

Mr.

Book.

Ah.

Not getting too much in your way, I trust?

Not at all.

It's certainly an education.

Larry Olivier calls film "an anemic little medium."

He's such a crashing snob.

"Well, he today who would shed his blood with me shall be my brother, be he ne'er so vile."

Churlish when they gave him the Oscar.

Jack, this is Mr.

Mackendrick.

Pleasure.

Oh, and here's Nora.

The gang's all here.

So, you're the director?

And the writer.

I thought you'd be older with a monocle and a riding crop.

You mustn't believe everything you read in the film magazines, young lady.

I've seen you before.

Mr.

Mackendrick had a lot of green penguins from us last summer.

Oh, yeah.

You look different.

It's the shorts.

I'm not wearing shorts.

That's why you look different.

Yes, you were a very busy bee as I recall.

You were always running about the place, weren't you, Mr.

Mackendrick?

Jesse.

[Ahem] Ah, hello, Nerina.

In search of material for your next article?

Always.

Well, the bin's around the back.

Ha ha.

Aren't you going to introduce me?

This is Mr.

Book from-- Oh, the apostrophe man.

They subbed your sign.

I'm trying not to look.

Would you, by any chance, be a member of his majesty's press?

Nerina Bean, "Picturegoer."

If you have juicy tidbits, my door is open.

I'll bear that in mind.

♪ Nice fingers.

Oh, they're not real.

Don't break a tooth.

[Doorbell jingles] ♪ [Sniffing] It's lovely.

Yeah.

And he has this?

From his ceiling all the way down to his skirting boards.

♪ Does he talk about her?

Fiancée?

Does he say, "I don't like her anymore.

She's too old for me"?

No.

Does he say, "She's so old it's like kissing a leg of mutton"?

No.

She's only 45, thank you very much.

He says he was very excited about "Lovelorn in London" from the moment he saw the script, and he's very excited about married life.

Though he also adds, "One must keep an open mind "because who knows what fate may throw your way."

Hear that, Barbara?

[Gasping] Heavens!

Is it bad?

Barbara?

[Gasping stops] Home is the hunter.

Oh, my god!

♪ [Theme music playing] ♪ [Bell ringing] [Ringing stops] [Indistinct voices] Inspector.

Is this a sad one, Morris?

Well... Because I've been up all night with the razor-blade case, so... All right, let's have it.

Filmstruck girl, extra, dead, on the counter.

It's suspicious.

I've shut down filming for the time being.

Have the parents been informed?

Yes, sir.

She and her family didn't get on.

Her friends said that's why she spent so much time at the... at the pictures.

♪ Gabriel: Inspector.

Book.

We are at home to death it seems.

♪ Over there, upstairs.

♪ Hmm... Royal appointment.

Sandra: What are they keeping from us, Stewart?

All this waiting is making me tired.

Perhaps one should have a mask made.

A mask?

With a permanent victor's smile.

[Sighs heavily] They can do wonders with makeup now.

I have Boris Karloff's number, if you'd like.

"Dearest Miss Day, you don't know me, but I'm your most devoted admirer."

I wonder what they'll think of "Lovelorn in London."

Them.

Who?

They'll buy it.

They love us, don't they?

Both of us.

I think they'll throw bottles at the screen.

[Sighs heavily] [Laughs softly] Do you know what they shouted at the test of "Brief Encounter"?

"Why doesn't she just... kiss him?"

Only they didn't say "kiss."

Relax, darling.

It'll be another smash.

We're the nation's most blissfully engaged couple, remember?

Mmm.

And what a long engagement it's been.

[Slurping] Oh, god, I can't wait to be back at the studio.

Have you enjoyed our little field trip?

If we're back at Ladyhurst, it gets that dreadful Nerina Bean out of my hair.

The studio has gates.

Fire breather of "Picturegoer."

Mmm.

You know when you lift a stone or a branch and suddenly all these ghastly, filthy, damp little monstrosities are exposed to the daylight and go scrabbling back into the shadows?

Well, beneath them are even worse filthy, damp little monstrosities, and under them is Nerina Bean.

She's always been rather sweet to me.

Well... we've got good news for her, don't we?

Do we?

[Knocking] Deliveries.

Our new three-picture deal, "Picturegoer" exclusive.

Yeah.

♪ What do you want, barley sugar, boy?

I'm afraid there's been an accident.

[Suspenseful music plays] Gabriel: The contents of a handbag.

Melancholy, isn't it?

Evidence of a little life spilled on the floor.

♪ Oh.

What's this?

You kiss your excess lipstick onto your favorite star.

Yeah?

Well... it takes all sorts.

This interests me.

May I?

Mm-hmm.

Very carefully wrapped.

Tenderly I'd say.

Ah... Well, they are still under ration.

They look expensive.

There are only coppers in this purse.

Tootie?

Do they have money, these girls?

Very little.

So, they didn't buy them.

I didn't notice the production providing fancy confectionery.

No.

The fans bring them... letters and presents, sad little things they've knitted.

They're left through there.

Billy brings them up to them.

Actually, he had a box of chocolates with him just now.

[Suspenseful music playing] Puncture mark.

Barbara was breathless, Trottie, yes?

Yes, and twitchy.

[Suspenseful music playing] Strychnine!

Ah, hell's bells!

♪ Stewart: Poor girl.

Someone's been at these.

Sandra: Oh, darling, you shouldn't.

You don't know where they've been.

Drop it!

It's poison!

Don't be absurd.

They're by royal appointment.

I'm afraid it's true, sir.

You didn't have any, did you, Miss Dare?

Oh, no, no.

What about you, Mr.

Howard?

No.

Good.

Have you ever received chocolates like this before, Miss Dare?

Yes, all the time.

My fans know they're my favorite.

But I never eat them.

It seems reasonable to assume then that you were the intended victim.

"Intended victim?"

What does he mean, "intended victim"?

We're investigating the death of Barbara Markham.

Yes, that unfortunate young woman.

Yes.

Oh, my god.

I have been sent some strange things in my time, but why would anyone want to kill me?

Billy, who gave you these chocolates?

Nobody.

They were just with the usual mail.

I always have to deal with it.

Where anyone could have got at them.

And Barbara and her friend presumably did.

Jesus Christ.

We could have both died.

What were you thinking about, bringing that muck up here?

Sorry, Mr.

Howard, but you told me to-- Don't answer me back.

I need to find myself a new assistant.

♪ You all right, my love?

Inspector: It's a brutal question, Miss Dare, but I'm afraid it must be asked.

Do you have any idea who might want to kill you?

No.

Can't this wait?

Yes, of course.

Excuse us.

Billy: Sir-- Out!

Inspector: I need to remind you that this is an official murder investigation.

Don't talk to the press.

♪ Gabriel: There once was an actress called Dare whose allure was exceedingly rare.

Her chocolates were spiked with strychnine.

Not nice.

But it was Barbara that ate them.

Not fair.

I hope we did the right thing, letting those people into the lane.

Why did you?

I'm afraid it was money.

Yes, my love, those little pieces of paper that keep us out of the small-claims courts.

How much?

Twenty guineas.

Per week?

Per diem... for 10 diems.

Whew.

[Doorbell jingles] What the devil's going on out there?

Bobbies swarming about like the cup final.

Mrs.

Goodwyn!

Yes!

I'm afraid there's been an accident.

Oh.

Oh, nothing to do with Sandra Dare, I hope.

I heard she was in the neighborhood.

Oh, so that's why we're here.

Always been a fan.

They don't want to hear about your juvenile antics, woman.

Miss Dare is perfectly sound, I'm happy to say.

"The Scarlet Pimpernel" you had from us last time, wasn't it?

I trust you enjoyed it.

Oh, very much.

And I promised you the sequel.

I'm teeing off at quarter of 2:00.

Sorry?

Shh!

Thinking.

"I Will Repay."

What?

That's the sequel to "The Scarlet Pimpernel."

Jack.

Oh, um... Underneath "Hardy Perennials," the Bible, and the stack of unpaid bills.

Got anything on how to cook?

I beg your pardon.

That's what she needs.

Can hardly boil a ruddy egg.

How are your feet?

Oh, much better.

Oh, I'll wait in the car.

[Doorbell jingles] Ah, that's just the bob.

Oh, and I put this to one side, too... on the house.

What is it?

Oh, just a little play, Ibsen, "A Doll's House."

It's about a woman who realizes she's rather trapped, unfulfilled.

Thought you might find it enlightening.

Thank you.

Cheerio.

How's business been?

Booming.

"Goodbye to Berlin."

All the Stewart Howard fans are mad for it.

Is he in the film version?

That's what I'm telling them.

Ha.

I, uh... better unpack.

Trottie: Oh, Jack, be a darling and fetch my bag from my room, would you?

It's the green one with the amber clasp.

Right.

♪ [Thud] Ah.

Hmm.

♪ ♪ You really think someone tried to kill me?

I'm afraid it looks that way.

Good God.

Well, at least we'll be back at Ladyhurst tonight.

You sure you're okay to shoot?

I'll have to be, won't I?

Dierdre.

Silly me.

My memory.

Sandra.

Are you ready?

Ready?

My exclusive.

Oh, excuse me.

Um, I promised an interview.

Harold.

Nerina, I can give you two minutes.

♪ Necessary evil, I suppose.

One must feed the machine, Mr.

Book.

Ah.

Finally.

Huh.

If you please.

Nerina: You know y motto-- If you have nothing nice to say, come and sit by me.

[Chuckles] And here you are, sitting by me.

Ah, yes, but I do have something nice to say, Nerina.

Oh?

"Lovelorn in London" is the first of a new three-picture deal.

Oh.

A deal Stewart and I have signed on for.

Isn't that marvelous?

Marvelous.

And you're shooting interiors at Ladyhurst, aren't you?

Mm-hmm.

Not exactly MGM, is it, Ladyhurst?

Oh, it'll do nicely.

You know the place, though, don't you?

Made plenty of pictures there in the past, like the one where you played the simple crafter's daughter who married a duke.

And the one where you played a simple fisherman's daughter who married a jute magnate.

Yes.

I always forget what jute is.

It's a kind of fiber.

People make bags with it.

What's the first film you made there, Sandra, at Ladyhurst?

Hmm.

Um... I don't know.

Uh... "Springtime for Mary," I think.

About a simple blacksmith's daughter who married-- All right.

I think it was quite a bit before that.

Do you know, our readers would be fascinated to learn that not all Sandra Dare's pictures were talking pictures.

I love those old India titles, "Came the Dawn" and all that.

Or I can check the date later, Dierdre.

That is your real name, isn't it?

The one you used to go by?

Dierdre Piddick?

Perhaps you should concentrate on the present, Nerina.

Oh?

Someone is trying to kill me.

♪ Jesse and I are taking Sandra to supper, try to take her mind off things... if that's not inappropriate under the circumstances.

Well, one must eat.

Where are you going?

Wheeler's?

No.

Camille's, on The Strand.

Good choice.

Don't have the oysters.

[Doorbell jingles] I saw them taking that girl away.

I assumed it was an accident.

No.

Poisoned chocolates.

Really?

Oh.

And they were intended for me.

And that poor, sad girl intercepted them.

Oh, lord.

How's that for an exclusive?

Tragic.

And what an angle.

Oh, sorry.

That was crass of me.

But still... what an angle.

Well, there's your story, Nerina.

Are you ready, darling?

I was just leaving.

Congratulations on the new contract, Stewart.

Thank you.

Much to chew on.

Ha ha ha.

Always lovely to see you.

♪ Bus to Ladyhurst leaves in five minutes.

Five minutes, everyone.

What are you waiting for, the last post?

♪ Mr.

Masterson.

What a pleasure to see you again.

Nerina Bean.

Looking lovely as ever.

What can I do for you?

♪ There we go.

Ta.

We met through, um, "Picturegoer."

Me and Barbara, I mean.

There's lot of correspondents, you see, like-minded folk finding each other.

Sandra Dare fans.

Some.

And the other big names, too.

There's a hairdresser I know who's put on on James Mason.

But you know... Stewart was our favorite.

That's why we... why we chose to get jobs as extras, to get close.

Oh.

You're doing very well, my dear.

You admit to taking the chocolates?

Yeah.

I'm awfully sorry.

We just couldn't resist them.

We saw them there on the table and the bookshelf, and, I mean, chocs.

Come on.

It's been years.

They were through there?

Yeah, just through there.

What did you do with the note?

♪ Note?

Well, there was obviously an enclosure of some kind.

It's not there now.

What did you do with it?

I didn't see any note.

♪ It was over there, look, on the table.

♪ It's funny how easy it is to get close to them.

The stars, I mean.

Sally Gray once brushed past me in the powder room at the Warseum.

You opened the box.

Maybe the card fell out.

Do you have back issues?

"Picturegoer," I mean.

Of course.

January '35 onwards.

Would you be so good as to let us have them?

Of course.

♪ [Dog whines softly] I know that look.

♪ Oh, Dog, you naughty boy.

♪ Hmm... [Indistinct voices] Inspector: And you're sure he knows about it?

Linda: Yeah, he does know where we are.

Thank you, Miss Bruce.

You've been most helpful.

Uh, constable.

Thank you.

Well?

[Door closes and doorbell jingles] "Oh, Stewart.

Oh, Stewart, my love.

"There's so much I want to say to you.

"From that moment on the submarine, I knew.

"Your look of concentration, your strength.

We were destined to love each other."

"Ship of Shame."

Good picture, that one.

♪ They were meant for him.

♪ "We imagine we control our passions, "but they direct us.

"To the stars we strive, despite adversity.

They drive ordinary people to extraordinary actions."

Like injecting strychnine into strawberry creams.

[Ahem] "So, Stewart, my own best darling, "I implore you not to try.

"Follow your heart.

"Break off your engagement, "and we can be together, you and I.

"My sweetest boy in life "or in the cold, cold tomb of death.

"And if one proves impossible, I'll take the other joyously."

Well, that seems pretty clear.

If the writer can't have him, nobody can.

So, we're looking for a film fanatic.

"Fanatic" being the word.

That would be an obvious explanation.

All right, then, bring me up to speed.

What do we know about this film lot?

[Inhales] Stewart Howard... proves that smoldering Latin looks sometimes occur spontaneously in Bermondsey.

He and Sandra have bound their careers together, the nation's sweethearts.

But who can know the truth of it?

He's an actor, and he's young and ruthless and rather overrewarded and appears to be hopelessly in love with someone else.

Trottie: Who?

Himself.

Then there's the honorable Jesse Mackendrick.

He lived in rooms on the lane last year just for a few weeks, rich boy slumming it for the summer.

Running up and down like a billy goat.

He was always pounding the streets in his Plimsolls.

Left when it got cold.

Ran straight back to daddy's place, in Wiltshire I think.

I'm sure I looked it up.

And there, we must presume, wrote a script on the private lives of the proletariat.

Thank you so much for joining me.

Please.

Good neighbor, was he?

Didn't pay him much attention, to be honest.

Well, I find that hard to believe.

He was obviously taking notes on how to run a bookshop.

Miss Dare, she had a rich husband who died, didn't she, an Italian national?

Is that why they went to the States?

Well, if they'd stayed, he'd have been interred as an enemy alien.

So, I suppose that they preferred the California sunshine.

That's made me think rather better of her.

I thought she was just running away from the bombs.

What about Billy?

Clapper boy, and from the look of it, Stewart Howard's now ex-whipping boy.

Doesn't seem to be much love lost there.

They pose a lot, don't they, these film stars?

Why is he marrying her, do you think?

Jack: To show she's still here.

Thank you.

To show she knows what the audience wants.

Stewart Howard's just arrived at the top, ain't he?

Miss Sandra has been there for years, but she can only stay there for so long.

Very perceptive of you, Jack.

What a brutal business this is.

It captures people in time, then they change... And it mocks them for it.

Right.

I'm gonna get onto the film security people, see if anyone saw who dropped the chocolates off.

What will you do now?

Jack and I are taking this note to dinner.

♪ [Horn honks] ♪ Uh.

Allow me, hmm?

♪ Jesus Christ.

Me?

You.

You've no idea how draining it is, Mr.

Book...gladhanding, scribbling one's autograph, failing to recognize someone whom you apparently met at a village fete 10 years ago, and the smiling.

Great God, the smiling.

This is simply the next step.

They can only love one so much.

And there's only one way to go from there.

I-- [Spoon clatters] How can I bloody well eat after that?

Well, a crazed fan is only the most obvious theory.

But we don't like to be obvious, do we, Jack?

What?

Oh.

Uh...no.

No, we don't.

So, if I might repurpose the inspector's earlier question, can you think of anyone who might want to kill you, Mr.

Howard?

Take your ruddy pick.

There's quite a lot of angry ladies out there, not to mention their husbands, Savile Row tailors, producers, directors, writers, my ex-agent, my ex-ex-agent, Uncle Tom Conway, and all.

What about prison?

What?

You started to eat your dinner with your spoon.

Ah.

Old habits.

Dead giveaway.

Takes one to know one.

♪ I was younger than you.

Nothing too terrible.

But I shouldn't like it to get into the popular press, Mr.

Book.

I should think not.

What did they get you for?

Where?

I went for a drive.

Through a ferry's window in Mayfair.

You?

Went to the bank to make a withdrawal.

With a stocking over your face?

Yeah, my mother's.

Ha ha ha.

I'm a Bermondsey boy, Jack, rough as a sailor's ass... despite all of this.

♪ Do you think it could have something to do with that, the prison?

Well, as you've indicated, it's a wide field.

I'll tell you what.

Why not take on young Jack here as your new factotum?

No harm in having a strapping young fellow like him hanging around, and you are looking for a new assistant.

I can't break our job at the bookshop.

I'm sure I can spare you for a few days, and you know how Nora loves to help out.

Splendid.

Well-- Yeah, that's a good idea.

You know, Mr.

Book, you should all come to Ladyhurst, help us get the details right and...keep an eye on things.

We'll be delighted.

Thank you for these.

I'm a film star.

You all right?

Yeah.

Why wouldn't I be?

I'll leave you to it then.

Let me know if anything interesting turns up.

Oh, and be careful.

There is a killer on the loose, hmm?

Good night.

Good night.

Yes, sir?

What's your poison?

♪ "Velocity Sporting Review."

There you are.

[Whistling] What's this?

Hmm.

Come on.

It's usually around now that you deign to share.

Three things, then.

Who would benefit from "Lovelorn in London" collapsing?

What was missing from that box of chocolates?

It was lying there with all the other fan mail.

But no envelope.

Top of the class, Mrs.

Book.

So, unless the envelope was disposed of... The chocolates didn't arrive by post.

So, anyone on the film set could have put it there.

Precisely.

And finally, the chocolate method, haphazard though it was, has been tried and failed, which means whoever is behind this-- Is going to try again.

What are you going to do?

We're invited to the film studios tomorrow.

And Jack has a new job, as Stewart Howard's stand-in.

When are we going to tell him?

Not yet.

Shall I read?

Well, I know how you enjoy it.

So, I'll humor you.

Bunch up, then.

♪ Oh, there it is.

I've been fretting about that since we moved my stuff to accommodate the stars.

Then fret not, dear, and recall us unpacked.

[Papers rustling] ♪ Man: "Cave of Fancy," eh?

I've seen some dives in my time, but this... so dirty, so shady.

The pansies in my garden abhor the shade.

Right...sir.

It is "sir," is it?

Let's find you on my list.

Name, occupation... marital status.

Woman: Engaged.

Who are you?

Medical officer Stratford Perry, Trottie to my friends, late of the Garibaldi Brigade, and I don't mean the biscuits.

I can pull out shrapnel, I can strip a shanker in under two seconds, And I once deported south of the Elbe, which I wouldn't recommend, even to you, sergeant.

And I never, ever leave a man behind.

He's sitting there.

And I'm getting married to him next Saturday, and the chief constable's daughter is one of our bridesmaids.

So, if I were you, I'd just admit the error right away and cross him off your list.

What say you?

♪ Trottie.

Saturday all right for you?

The forecast is good.

Quite all right, Trottie.

Hmm.

Well, then... ♪ Kiss me.

[Loud kiss] Oh!

Where would I be without you?

I think we both know the answer to that, my love.

♪ Anyway, you were going to read.

Of course.

♪ [Ahem] [Bell tolling] [Piano playing] ♪ She's noticed you.

Yeah, they always notice me, girls.

It doesn't mean anything.

It's like when kids point at dogs in the street and say, "Dog."

Well, you're getting married soon, so... You may have seen it in a column by Nerina Bean, but let me tell you something, Jack.

I've never gone down on one knee to anyone.

Sandra popped the question then, did she?

I can imagine that.

Most of the questions are from her business manager.

Oh.

Oh.

So, you've got an arrangement, then?

I shouldn't drink so much, should I?

Yes, an arrangement.

But we all have those, don't we?

You have one with Book.

Book has one with Mrs.

Book, if we're talking about unusual marriages.

Why do you say Book's marriage is unusual?

♪ You're like him... Book.

How?

Because you read.

So, go on.

Read me.

♪ Well, um... you keep coming here because you think this is the sort of place that film stars go.

But here's the thing.

You don't like it here.

You hate it.

And you hate that drink, too.

Like a pudding from the war.

So, you're thinking, "How can I be the chap I was, "you know, before I learned that the camera loved me?

Which is a terrible thing to know."

It's not all it's cracked up to be.

Can you believe that?

I wouldn't mind a bit of it.

Careful what you wish for, son, because someone's sending me poison in the post, remember?

♪ I was a bit stuck when I met Sandra.

Typecast.

"Not officer material," they said.

I was a problem kid.

Sandra changed that.

She pulled strings, whispered in ears.

Producers started casting us as lovers.

We were lovers by then, of course.

Do you love her now?

When I don't hate her.

♪ You've got to be your own man.

Of course I do, but it's impossible, isn't it?

We're a pair... like Hope and Crosby, Fred and Ginger, Garbo and Gilbert.

Made sense he left, didn't he?

What?

John Gilbert... didn't survive when the talkies came.

Yeah.

So, that's all an act, then, you and her, golden couple?

All an act, as much an artifice as Stewart Howard himself.

♪ Film is for dreamers, you see, Jack.

When you sit there in the dark, there has to be space for you up there.

In that case, in those scenes in the moonlight, standing by the rail of a ship, if you'd just read in the fan mags that the screen lovers had broken off the engagement, can't stand to be in a room together... then there's no space to dream.

♪ [Dog barks in distance] ♪ ♪ [Thunder rumbles] ♪ [Rain falling] ♪ ♪ [Bell ringing loudly] Scene 49, take 8.

[Clack] And...action.

It was then I knew we had fallen in love from the pages of a book.

But was that love strong enough to thrive?

Eternity in me world-- Can we, um, try it again without him reading in?

I can do it in time.

Yes, of course.

Reset.

We're rolling, Sandra.

And...action.

God.

Oh.

Uh... I'm so sorry, Jesse.

Uh...can I beg 10 minutes?

A ciggy will sort me out.

Cut it there.

Man: Cutting it there.

Right.

[Bell rings] Ten minutes, all.

Back at five past.

Would you like coffee, sir?

No, thank you.

♪ [Quick footsteps] ♪ [Dogs barking in distance] ♪ [Soft knock on door] ♪ [Indistinct] "Eric Percival Banks."

She's... She's been married before.

[Toilet flushes] ♪ Good morning.

You're up early.

I thought you might want a tea.

♪ [Swallows] [Teacup rattles] [Car horn honks] [Honk honk honk] Hey, kid.

Do you want to be in pictures?

Oh.

♪ Man: Your name's not on the list.

Who are you?

We're antiquarian booksellers.

Isn't it obvious?

And I know we're being extra vigilant, Jerry, love, but they're with me.

♪ All right.

♪ What's this?

The address of Barbara Markham's parents.

I'll go visit them.

No, no.

There's the inquest first.

Just write them a kind letter.

I will.

Thanks, Book.

You boys are in for the biggest surprise of your lives.

Keep going.

Better this way.

More dramatic.

Jordie, can we get some lights on, please?

Jordie: Yes, Mr.

Howard.

♪ Ha ha ha.

Amazing.

It's absurd, ridiculous, a bizarre exaggeration of reality.

It is wonderful.

What a thrillingly peculiar life you lead, Mr.

Howard.

It's an imitation of life.

Dog's blanket but no Dog.

Is Dog cast yet?

Yeah.

But she's not much copy, no screen presence.

Think of a good replacement?

Yeah, I can.

♪ Gads of cash.

Your Tony's a better bookseller than I am.

He's fake...like everything in here.

Ah, well, glad you had a chance to look before the hordes arrived.

Let's get some breakfast.

Canteen's in the next block.

Lay on, McDuff.

[Indistinct voices] It's just past the dressing rooms.

Do you know what you're doing next, or-- Another "Robin Hood" remake.

I mean, I've got the pins for it, so... What?

Oh, my god.

♪ It's one of the extras.

♪ No...I think not.

♪ It's Nerina Bean.

♪ A girl with a poison pen.

♪ [Theme music playing] ♪