Island in The Sun (1957) Movie Script

1
This is my island in the sun
Where my people have
toiled since time begun
I may sail on many a sea
Her shores will
always be home to me
Oh, island in the sun
Willed to me by
my father's hand
All my days I will
sing in praise
Of your forest, waters,
your shining sand
When morning breaks
the heaven on high
I lift my heavy
load to the sky
Sun comes down with
a burning glow
Mingles my sweat
with the earth below
Oh, island in the sun
Willed to me by
my father's hand
All my days I will
sing in praise
Of your forest, waters,
your shining sand
I see women on bended knee
Cutting cane for
their family
I see men at the
water's side
Casting nets at
the surging tide
Oh, island in the sun
Willed to me by
my father's hand
All my days I will
sing in praise
Of your forest, waters,
your shining sand
Sad the time I'll ever miss
Your gay colored skirts
as they turn and twist
Let me always
hear soft guitars
And a maiden's voice
neath a thousand stars
Oh, island in the sun
Willed to me by
my father's hand
All my days I will
sing in praise
Of your forest, waters,
your shining sand
The island of Santa Marta
is not very much different...
from any of the other smaller
islands in the Caribbean.
Towering mountains,
white gold beaches,
coconut palms and
hot tropical sun.
It has a population
of about 100,000,
9/10ths of it colored
or of mixed blood.
Its main industry is raising
sugar, copra, cocoa,
and exporting them.
Originally a French Island,
its laborers were
brought in slave ships
four and a half centuries ago.
And now it is a British
Crown Colony.
Well, that about sums up
all the facts you'll find...
in the tourist guides,
Mr. Bradshaw.
Of course, as a journalist, you'll want to see
as much of our island as possible.
If you're in doubt about anything, get
in touch with Colonel Whittingham here.
Nothing like being on the right
side of the police, eh, Colonel?
- Quite so.
- Denis.
- Sir?
- Have you arranged for Mr. Bradshaw's hotel?
- The St. James.
- Good. Very comfortable, the St. James.
- Excellent bar.
- I don't drink, sir.
- Oh.
- Doctor's orders.
Pity.
- Well, we'll be seeing you this afternoon at the reception.
- Thank you, Your Excellency.
Oh, Your Excellency,
just one more question.
I'm very interested in the new Constitution
that's being given to the islands.
Do you think the West Indian
is ready to govern himself?
When you get to know the island better,
Mr. Bradshaw,
I shall be glad
to discuss it with you.
Good day, sir.
Is there much discontent
in the islands, Colonel?
Crime's my business,
Mr. Bradshaw, not politics.
Sylvia?
Sylvia.
Sylvia?
Sylvia?
- Bye, Mavis. See you later.
- Bye.
- Want some help?
- Yes.
Well, call somebody.
Maxwell, how nice.
I didn't expect you until later.
- I won't be a minute.
- I'll wait.
Please, dear.
I'm hot and sticky.
- Did you see your father?
- We lunched at the club.
Mother's coming back tomorrow from Barbados.
My sister tell you?
- Oh, there you are.
- Here are the towels.
Thanks, dear.
Well, I'm off for a shower.
Tell Mavis we'll see her
at H.E.'s party.
Okay.
- How was the beach?
- Oh, fun.
- Anybody there I know?
- Oh, you know, the usual bunch.
What time's the party
at Government House?
The invitation said 5:30.
- Anything wrong?
- What?
Well, you've a very odd look.
You haven't changed to smoking
Egyptian cigarettes, have you?
- No. Why?
- You better run along.
You gonna meet Mother
at the plane tomorrow?
No, Daddy's going.
Why don't you go with him?
- She'd prefer to have you.
- Well...
- Tell Sylvia that I'll see her later.
- Mm-hmm.
- Is that you, darling?
- Yes.
We'll have to hurry.
What time did the invitation say?
5:30. Do we have to go?
- I'd rather stay out here at Belfontaine.
- We can't very well not go.
After all, it's protocol.
Besides, it's a party to welcome
Lord Templeton's only son and heir.
- What's his name?
- Who?
- The governor's son.
- Euan, I think.
I saw his picture in the Tatler.
Pass me a tissue,
would you, darling?
He's been stationed in the Middle East
for the last 18 months.
This will be a holiday for him.
He's going up to Oxford in the autumn.
You seem to know
a great deal about him.
Well, you know the island.
A male, young, white, unmarried, titled
and comparatively rich.
Good heavens. What else do you think
the girls would talk about?
- Darling, you're not jealous, are you?
- A bit.
- Whatever of?
- Anybody with all those virtues.
That's the penalty for being so much
in love with you.
That's sweet.
Anybody out at the house today?
- Out at the house?
- While I was in town.
No, not that I know of.
- Why?
- I just wondered.
Darling, you must get dressed.
We'll never get to the party.
Mrs. de Voeux.
Mrs. de Voeux is matron
of our hospital.
Her son also captains our best cricket team.
My son, Euan.
I know exactly how young
Templeton feels.
Eighteen months military
duty in the Middle East.
Desert, fleas,
not a woman in miles.
How do you do?
How are you?
No need for you to
stand guard, my boy.
I'll hold the fort. You
start campaigning.
Thank you, sir.
Oh, no, no. I can't go in.
I haven't been invited.
I can't crash a party
at Government House.
But you can...
if you're with David Boyeur.
I'll say you're my cousin.
What difference does it make?
It makes a difference to me.
If I go in, I go in as Margot Seaton.
If I have to leave,
I'll leave as Margot Seaton.
That's all right with me,
if that's the way you want it.
Well, it may get you into
trouble with the governor.
Me? Trouble with the governor?
Templeton needs me much
more than I need him.
Do you really want me to go?
Yes, I do. You're an idiot to be afraid
of those people up there.
What for?
Do you mind getting
out of the driveway?
We're going in.
All right.
But I warn you, you may regret it.
What do representative girls
in their early 20s...
drink at the beach in
Santa Marta, Colonel?
- Rum swizzles, I believe.
- Rum swizzles?
Tomorrow afternoon then?
With a thermos full of rum swizzles.
Excuse me.
There's my father.
Ah, there you are.
I was beginning to think my secretary
had forgotten to invite you.
- Your Excellency, Miss Margot Seaton.
- How do you do?
Will you excuse me?
There's an American journalist
here I'd like you to meet.
I'm sure you've explained
how dangerous I am.
Of course.
Our homegrown revolutionary.
The press is a nuisance,
but it exists.
And I believe in cooperating
with what exists.
I'm Denis Archer,
the governor's aide.
How is it I haven't
seen you before?
Maybe it's because you buy your
toothpaste at the wrong drugstore.
What should I take that to mean?
- I work at the Bon Marche drugstore.
- Oh.
In that case,
I shall change my patronage.
You're wondering what I'm
doing here, aren't you?
- Well, uh...
- Well, I wasn't invited.
Uh, David Boyeur
dared me to come.
I don't like being dared.
I see.
Next time I shall see that you're
properly invited.
- The colonel's been telling me about David Boyeur.
- Oh, has he?
Yes. There's a man with real power.
Notice the very special treatment
His Excellency's giving him.
Strange. In all the years I've lived
on this island, I've never met him.
Oh, I have.
He used to work in the kitchens...
at the St. James Hotel when
we used to live there.
And I was very, very young.
- He's gone far since then.
- Too far.
- Why don't you take up Boyeur's challenge?
- What do you mean?
With this new Constitution,
Boyeur's going to try and capture...
the legislature at the
next general election.
Seems to me some of you planters should
go in for politics, and rather quickly.
Fight him at the polls.
Stand for election.
- Me?
- Yes. Why not you?
The Fleury name means a
great deal on the island.
Everyone respects your
father, even the West...
You'd stand an excellent
chance of winning.
Do you often smoke these?
Only on special occasions.
They're Egyptian, aren't they?
Yes, I had them made for me in Cairo.
They're very difficult to get here.
My childhood wasn't
very much different...
from any of the other
children who I grew up with.
It was always the same story.
Rum and ginger, please.
No opportunity for anything.
No one to tell, pay any attention.
That's when I began organizing.
One of the most important
fights is against tradition.
This island's shackled
with traditions.
- Would you agree with that, Mr. Fleury?
- What?
Mr. Boyeur here says he thinks
the island is bound with tradition.
What would Mr. Boyeur have us do?
Forget them?
Mr. Fleury speaks as if traditions
belong only to him. We have ours too.
I'd be the last to deny
him his traditions.
Which ones, Mr. Fleury?
The ones we got on
the slave ships?
Or in the cane fields
working like beasts?
Or the ones we have now...
the ones we are making every day,
despite the slave ships
and the cane fields.
No, Mr. Bradshaw, we don't intend
to live the way our fathers did.
Your father,
if I remember correctly,
worked on my father's
plantation.
- Till the day he died.
- He was well taken care of...
whether he was sick or not,
whether he worked or not.
That was charity, Mr. Fleury.
What we want is equality.
What I want is a drink.
How about you, Maxwell?
No, I won't have one.
Uh, this- this headache.
- Do you mind if we go?
- Now? But we've only just arrived.
We're all going down
to the club later.
I told Sylvia I wasn't
up to this party.
We can be social some other time.
Will you excuse us?
Mavis, Mr. Bradshaw, Colonel.
It's good to see you, David Boyeur.
It's nice seeing you again, Miss Norman.
- It's been a long time.
- Yes.
As a matter of fact,
you were 12 years old at the time.
It was a party given for the children
out at St. James lawn.
- And you won a prize.
- Oh, I did? What for?
The obstacle race.
I haven't been much of
a prizewinner since.
As a matter of fact, I remember
watching you from the kitchen window.
It wasn't much of a prize.
Lamb's tales from Shakespeare.
You've won bigger.
Perhaps.
Oh, excuse me.
Just one more question, Mr. Boyeur.
What would you say is the most
important problem on the island?
Color, Mr. Bradshaw. Color.
Would you excuse me?
We'd better take the sea road.
Aren't you coming?
I feel like staying
here for a while.
Beautiful night,
don't you think?
What sort of a mood
are you in now?
So you and your friend Carson
think I ought to go into politics?
I think what you did at
the party was stupid,
deliberately insulting
David Boyeur that way.
- He can be dangerous.
- So can I.
Forget Boyeur. Let's talk about Carson.
He's interesting, don't you think?
War record. Bachelor.
The sort of thing that women go for.
- Hilary's nice.
- If I were a woman,
I'd prefer Carson
to Euan Templeton.
But it was Euan all the
girls chased after.
Too bad you can't try
your luck with him.
I know you.
You envy Jocelyn, or any other girl who's free,
because you wish you were.
That's true, isn't it?
Maxwell, stop it.
You'll tear my dress.
Do you know,
I've never torn a dress of yours.
- Take me home.
- Home?
Women get bored making love in the same room.
A change of scenery helps.
Stop it.
Tell me about Egypt.
Was it madly dull?
Too many pyramids.
And not enough girls?
None to write home about.
Do you think there'll be any
punch left in that thermos?
Mm-hmm.
- Cold enough?
- Uh-huh.
What's your life like here?
Gay?
Not very.
This is a small island,
and there's a dozen girls like myself.
And not enough men.
Oh, the boats come in sometimes...
tourists, sailors.
Ever think of getting away?
- Constantly.
- Where?
I don't know.
Paris. London.
It doesn't really matter.
You know, you get awfully
tired of all this sun.
What will you do when
you leave Oxford?
I've got a seat waiting for me
in the House of Lords.
Ah, I forgot.
You've a title.
Don't say it like that.
You know,
there was a corporal in the army.
He used to take a peculiar pleasure
out of reading my name out in full...
"Private the Honorable Lord
Templeton E.J., number 6139."
I suppose it did sound funny.
When I was in Egypt,
I used to lie out on the beach,
close my eyes
and make a prayer to Allah.
"Please, Allah", I'd say.
"When I open my eyes, may there be a pretty
girl lying on the sand next to me.
Thank you, Allah."
Hello.
- I want some toothpaste.
- What kind?
- Any one of those will do.
- The large or the small?
What's the difference in price?
The large is 36.
The small is 24.
I'll- I'll take the large.
Miss Seaton, are you going to
the nurses' dance with anyone?
- David Boyeur asked me.
- And if I asked you?
Are you?
I'm afraid he'll have to find
someone to take your place.
As a matter of fact, I, uh...
- I have an official invitation here.
- What does it say?
It says, "His Excellency, the Governor,
requests the pleasure...
"of Miss Margot Seaton's
company at his table...
on Tuesday, March the
15th, at 8:00 p.m."
I'll call for you myself.
Oh, you forgot your change.
Rita. Have you finished
with my wife yet?
Sorry. Your wife is not here.
She was here early today,
but her appointment
is for tomorrow.
- Oh, did she say where she was going?
- No.
Darling, I'm sorry.
Have you been waiting long?
I told Maxwell
I'd be at the hairdressers,
and then it turned out
my appointment wasn't until tomorrow.
Bit of luck your wife ran into me.
Hilary's been awfully sweet.
I insisted he come shopping with me.
Was it very boring?
Well, they say women have only two passions,
and one of them's shopping.
- Why did you buy?
- A bikini.
- It's really something, isn't it?
- Right.
You'd better rope off the beach,
old man, when she wears it.
We'd better be going.
Lucky shot running into
Hilary Carson, wasn't it?
Yes.
- Does he still smoke those cigarettes of his?
- What cigarettes?
You remember those fancy,
gold-tipped ones...
that he has made up
for him in Cairo.
Perhaps that's what I need to be
more successful with my own wife...
a special brand of tobacco.
I don't know what you're talking...
If I remember,
you're a friend of David Boyeur's.
- Yes, I am.
- He's a young man for whom I prophesy a brilliant future.
You must all be
very proud of him.
Well, that's what he keeps telling us.
We should be.
Denis tells me you're working
at the Bon Marche pharmacy.
- Denis?
- Denis Archer, my A.D.C.
- Oh, yes.
- Confidentially, he's not much of an A.D.C.
You know, odd sort of fellow...
writes books.
He's very ambitious.
I like him.
I'm very ambitious too.
I'm a stenographer.
I've been taking
shorthand and typing.
I'm a qualified stenographer.
I suppose you haven't
a place for me?
Well...
I had no idea you danced so well.
Thank you, Miss Seaton.
Thank you, Your Excellency.
It's a great honor to dance
with the governor, you know.
- Yes. Now I know all about you.
- Oh?
- What did he say?
- Odd fellow... writes books.
Confidentially, you're not a very good A.D.C.
You're too ambitious.
But he likes you.
I'm so sorry.
Excuse me.
Don't go away.
I'll be back.
I won't go away.
So that's the reason you didn't go
to the nurses' ball with me, huh?
- I warned you, didn't I?
- About what?
That you might regret making me
go to the governor's party.
Aren't you drinking?
You do drink champagne,
don't you?
I mean, it's- it's not forbidden
to union officials, is it?
No, I don't think so.
All right then.
Come along then.
Champagne goes awfully
quickly at parties.
Excuse me, ladies.
Excuse me.
Of course, sir.
Mr. Boyeur is having champagne too.
I was asking the
police about you.
- The police?
- Mmm. Colonel Whittingham.
We were sitting at
the same table.
What'd the colonel have to say?
Young chap, no background,
fighting his way...
no idea where he wants
to go, except up.
The colonel also seems to think
you like the idea of your own importance.
The colonel seems to think.
- What do you think?
- I don't know.
Then why are you
trying to find out?
I don't know that either.
Does it make any difference,
having an aim in life?
- An aim?
- Not just floating about...
tea at 5:00, dinner at 8:00,
Tuesdays at the hairdresser's.
Having- Oh, I used to
know the word for it-
a- a cause.
That should depend a great deal
on the person, I should imagine.
You think I'm rather useless, don't you?
Parasitic, that all women of my kind are.
Oh, no, it's true that we
don't know anything...
oh, the ground rules for tennis
or a recipe for shrimp curry,
a- a little charity nursing-
but nothing very important.
I wish there were
something worthwhile...
I could learn about people, about...
There's a great deal to learn
right here on this island,
if you really mean it.
Oh, it's beautiful.
Used to be the summerhouse where the
governors' wives did their sewing.
I told the governor
I'd like somewhere to do my writing, and, uh...
- Oh, is this what you're writing?
- Yes.
- Is it a novel?
- Sort of.
- What's it about?
- Oh, people and places.
Begins in London,
and then goes on to Hong Kong,
Cairo, Malta, the West Indies.
Is that where it ends?
I haven't finished it yet.
May I read it sometime?
- If you really want to.
- Oh, yes, I do.
I tried writing here the night after
I met you at the garden party.
Yes?
I couldn't get a
sentence straight.
I just sat here
thinking about you.
It's a bad sign.
Is it?
Oh, somewhere, someone
once said...
that there's always a point at the
beginning of a love affair...
where a man can draw back,
where he's still safe.
Is that what you want to be?
Safe?
I've been in love.
Funny, I don't know
anything about you.
Well, what would
you like to know?
All about you. Everything.
Well, there really isn't
very much to tell.
I've lived in these
islands all my life.
Trinidad, Fort-de-France,
Santa Marta.
Does the gramophone work?
Yes.
Do you want me to play it?
Yes.
Margot, you know I'm in
love with you, don't you?
Yes.
You knew from the first, didn't you?
Yes.
- It's hot.
- Mmm.
- How was the trip?
- Pleasant.
- How is Sylvia?
- Pretty, as always.
- I brought the plantation accounts.
- Thanks.
I've a bit of news.
I've decided to stand for the legislature
in the next election.
- Why?
- Why not?
It's no good our sitting around
saying the island is going to the dogs...
and not doing anything about it,
right, Mother?
I wasn't even aware
the island was going to the dogs.
Boyeur has got a great deal
of influence in your district.
Are you afraid of Boyeur too?
He represents the people, or they think he does.
It amounts to the same thing.
You don't think I have a
chance of winning, do you?
- No.
- Well, I do!
I'm not afraid of Boyeur!
I'm not afraid of opposing him!
Is there something to drink?
I'd like a sour.
Right.
Your father and I were talking about
taking Jocelyn to England for a while.
It's death for a young girl
like her on this island.
She ought to have the chance of meeting
the right people, don't you think?
Do you think he'd ever trust me
to run the estate single-handed?
Your father felt like that about
the election because he was concerned for you,
what a defeat might mean to you.
- Was he?
I don't remember his ever being
concerned about me before.
I can't remember his ever worrying
whether or not I went to England,
whether I ever had a chance
to meet the right people.
All I've ever had is
this dreary island.
Ah, now, you're not being fair.
Fair? I'm being truthful.
I know what people say.
I know what people think. I know what you think.
I know what he thinks.
I never lived up
to the great Fleury name.
But I might have, if I'd gone to
Oxford and Eton like Arthur did.
Many things might
have been different.
But instead you sent me
to school here with a load of colored brats.
All I ever heard
about was Arthur...
how well he was doing, what
good reports you had.
That's who father cared about.
Elder son, apple of his eye.
- Arthur's dead.
- No, he's not dead. He's alive.
Always will be for him.
And I'll always live in his shadow.
Charming Arthur. Modest Arthur.
And then Arthur
dead in the war, a-a hero.
- Maxwell, be quiet, will you?
- All right. Father was kind.
He gave Sylvia and me Belfontaine
as a wedding present.
A decaying house out on the
God-forsaken tip of the island.
And I'm supposed to be grateful
for being Julian Fleury's son.
I'd have been better off
if I'd been born black.
Maxwell!
Here's your whiskey sour.
- Care for a drink?
- Love one.
- Give us one of those red ones, will you?
- Oh, look. They want some too.
- All right.
- Here. Want this?
Oh, and here's another little girl.
You come right in and have one.
Here you are. Got that?
And how about these girls?
- And don't forget me.
- Right.
Give us another one, will you?
What was that all about?
There once was a man,
don't remember who,
drew up 200 different classifications
of mixed blood on this island.
Well, the children don't seem
to know about it yet, do they?
Not yet.
You've lived here all your life,
but I'm sure I'll show you a part
of this island that you've never seen.
Come on. Come on.
- Uncle Reilly, how are you?
- Fine.
- Uncle Reilly, this is Miss Mavis.
- Hello.
Hello.
Eaton, Sonny, Antoine.
- This is Miss Norman.
- Hello, Miss Norman.
- Hello.
- Hello.
- Good cuttin', huh?
- Yes.
- All right. See you later.
- All right.
Well, they all seem to know you.
That's my business.
I was born in this village.
There's the old schoolhouse.
The roof still leaks,
the timber's still rotten.
There'll be a new one
there next year.
Back to school!
Well, they're... they're all
very proud of David Boyeur.
They'll be prouder.
All men follow
Down you go for a
workin' dollar
Down you go for a
workin' dollar
- Hartford.
- Yes?
What are they singing?
It doesn't have a name, really.
It's a song the
tourists never hear.
It's a work chant.
When the catch is bad, it's sad.
And when it's good...
well, it's like...
Champagne?
Yo-oh-oh
Yo-oh-oh-oh
Yo-oh-oh-oh
Yo-oh-oh Yo-oh-oh-oh
Yo-oh-oh
You hear me calling,
men and heed your fate
Jump up, brother come
and pull your weight
Forget your achin'
from the day before
'Cause today we gonna
do that and more
Lead man, holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a working
dollar Yes, he holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a
working dollar
Working man
I am tried and true
Ooh
I won't ask you
nothin' that I wouldn't do
Ooh
Pay today is the
same as last Ooh
You works the same
just a little fast
Lead man, holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a working
dollar Yes, he holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a
working dollar
Swing out left and
you bring her wide
Lean a bit
to your starboard side
Pull her right
in a little more to port
Slack up, men
while you hold her short
Lead man, holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a working dollar
Yes, he holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a
working dollar
Like to tell you
about yesterday
Work right well I
am proud to say
I want every man
to try his will
I make yesterday look like
you were standing still
Lead man, holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a working dollar
Yes, he holler
Yo-oh-oh
All men follow
Down you go for a
working dollar
They're making masks
for the carnival.
You should really see them
then in the little towns.
Carnival. Carnival. Carnival.
Carnival. Carnival.
Carnival. Carnival.
Is carnival always like this?
- They're drunk with the music.
- Well, let's get out of this madhouse.
Sylvia and Maxwell
are staying in town.
The key should be in a flowerpot
on the veranda.
I suppose the servants are all
in the village running mask.
Can you smell the damp?
No wonder nothing lasts here.
The worms eat right
through the furniture.
How about some tea?
That's a very good idea.
Sylvia's very wasteful.
We'll probably find a cake...
going quietly stale
in the bread bin.
Oh, would you mind opening
the shutters and letting some air in?
Yeah.
I think we should go.
I'll put the key back.
I hate leaving here.
Your brother's very lucky to have
a place like this all his own.
Ready?
Oh, would you like me to drive?
It's Maxwell's car.
It's got its idiosyncrasies, and I know them.
I suppose that's one of them.
You wait. It's got others.
Let me see.
Just a moment.
Well, now. I hate to tell you this,
but your rotor arm's gone.
- What?
- Your rotor arm.
- That's impossible.
- Well, come and look.
It's been taken out.
Is this a carnival idea of humor?
It's somebody's idea of something.
What do you think
we should do now?
Telephone your father?
I think we'd better.
No reply?
Try again. It's carnival.
The girl on the exchange may be on a jag.
The line's dead.
It's all right here.
No electricity,
the rotor arm gone, and now this.
Three times can't be a coincidence.
What do you mean?
Grudges get paid off at carnival.
Against you, me...
or my father?
It's Maxwell's car.
It's Maxwell's house now too.
- What's that?
- Drums, in the village.
They carry for miles.
We need a drink.
Yes, we do, don't we?
Won't they worry
at your father's?
No, it's carnival.
They won't expect me for hours.
I think the moon's up.
Shall we have a look at it?
What if we can't get back?
Well, the servants will
be here in the morning.
I can send one of them to telephone
from the police station.
At least I'm not in Egypt.
Hungry?
I noticed half a chicken pie
in the icebox.
Really?
We might as well have supper.
By moonlight.
What about rooms?
Rooms?
If they don't come for us,
we shall have to stay.
Any particular one you prefer?
Why don't we toss a coin?
Heads?
Heads it is.
Which?
The one on the right.
I've never slept in it, and I've always
wanted to ever since I was a child.
It has a lovely view.
There's a clock on the mantelpiece
and a picture between the bookshelves.
And I promised myself I'd sleep
in it on my 17th birthday,
but I never have, not once.
Wasn't it lucky I won the toss?
Well, I suppose there's
bound to be some sort of gossip.
- Why?
- Oh, my dear,
you can hardly expect them not to
with such a wonderful opportunity.
- Euan slept in the...
- I'm quite sure that Euan was a gentleman.
I was simply concerned with the thought...
that Lord Templeton might
find himself involved in unpleasantness.
- Mrs. Fleury?
- Mmm?
I wonder if you'd be kind enough
to give me an opinion.
Do you think it would be a good idea for someone
like myself to be married here, or in England?
Why, I don't quite know.
I think England might be quite nice,
but it might be more fun here.
You know, it'd be a sort of holiday,
another carnival, sort of.
Euan, you know you
don't have to.
This isn't England,
and Mother isn't Queen Victoria.
Well, what am I supposed
to tell my father?
- Your father?
- Yes.
I spoke to him on the phone,
and I said...
You are, aren't you?
I am what?
In love with me?
Because that's what I
told my father on the...
I mean, I-I said I was in love with you,
and I-I assumed you were with me.
What did he say?
Couldn't wish me a happier fate.
- You know, it's not 24 hours since we drove to Belfontaine.
- - I know.
You were going to Oxford.
This was just a short vacation.
Marriage isn't
what you want, Euan.
Well, it's true that when
I first came here...
I wasn't sort of looking
for anything that went deep.
No, a good time,
that was all I wanted.
But this morning,
when we drove back into town I thought...
If I lost you now,
I'd be a large fool.
As a matter of fact, I have an odd feeling,
you know, that my life wouldn't be...
Well, it'd be sort of empty if I went back
to England and you weren't there to go with me.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
Your daughter's just been
proposed to, Mr. Fleury.
- By whom?
- Me, I'm afraid.
Euan, would you mind leaving?
I'd like to talk to my parents alone.
I'll see you later.
- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.
If you're in love with him,
I see no reason why you shouldn't accept him.
After all, you won't
be any hindrance...
as far as his going up to Oxford
and his career is concerned.
You haven't said yet whether
you are in love with him.
Oh. Yes, I think so.
I mean, very much.
But it's not quite that simple.
Euan has a name.
He has duties and obligations.
I have to be quite certain.
Is there any reason why
I shouldn't marry him?
What do you mean?
What reason could there be?
Daddy, is there any reason
why I shouldn't marry Euan?
No. There's no good reason why
you shouldn't marry him.
Oh. Put it down there.
Oh, hello, Bradshaw.
Oh, hello, Mr. Fleury.
Hot, isn't it?
- Here's your paper, Mr. Fleury.
- Thank you, boy.
"The Fleury family is a perfect
example of the problems faced...
"by many of the old
families on this island.
"For 300 years, there has been
marriage and intermarriage...
"with nobody sure of
their precise ancestry.
"But a veil of secrecy, whispers and innuendo
has been drawn across this problem.
"Julian Fleury was
brought up in England.
"A distinguished Wessex family
was delighted 35 years ago,
"when he proposed marriage
to their youngest daughter.
"Presumably, they did not know
that Julian Fleury's mother,
who died in childbirth, was a
Jamaican with colored ancestry."
Is it true?
It's true.
What were you lashing out at
when you tried to slap me?
Your own guilt?
Your betrayal of us?
- Betrayal? Your mother never knew.
- She knew.
- Didn't you, Mother?
- Yes, I knew.
But how?
An anonymous letter.
It came years ago.
- And you never mentioned it.
- I saw no reason to.
I wanted to keep
things as they were.
- Faithful wife, noble mother...
- Maxwell, stop it!
How do you expect him to feel?
How do you think I feel?
To believe that you belong
to one kind of a world, and then, suddenly...
When I asked you if there was any reason
why I shouldn't marry Euan, you said no.
I said there was no good reason.
How can you say that?
Euan's heir to a title.
Can you picture a black man
sitting in the House of Lords if we had a son?
There's no need to exaggerate.
My mother was three-quarters white.
I've only 1/16 of colored blood.
The chances are your children
will be completely white!
Bradshaw was right.
All this whispering, all this secrecy.
How shall I face it here?
Will you listen to me,
quietly, for a minute?
At the start of any misfortune, one always
feels that the end of the world has come.
Well, the end of mine has.
Perhaps I ought to leave this island, take
Sylvia with me, make a fresh start somewhere.
- Do you think that'd be best?
- Do I have any other choice?
I can see myself
walking into the club.
Anybody for tennis?
There's Fleury.
He's perfect for mixed-doubles.
His grandmother's a bit on the dark side, you know.
Your roots are here.
Your life is here.
Oh, it's easy to talk about making a fresh start.
But what would you do?
Where would you go?
What do the Fleurys know except
how to run a plantation?
Nothing.
Think it over. Talk to Sylvia.
Think it over. Talk to Sylvia.
Now, above all,
we must keep our heads.
The great thing is to
do nothing hasty.
Behave as though nothing
extraordinary has happened.
Otherwise people will say,
"Oh, look at the Fleurys.
They daren't hold their
heads up in public."
Go to the club tonight.
Behave naturally.
Don't avoid people, and, uh,
don't send them too many drinks.
No. I won't come. I don't want it to look
as if the clan was mustering in force.
But behave as though
nothing had happened.
- Lunch is ready, ma'am.
- Thank you, Mary.
Congratulations.
That was a fine series of articles,
the best things I've read about the island.
As for that one today,
that was- that was the goods.
You said things that
needed saying.
From my point of view,
I can't tell you how grateful I am.
- In what way?
- In every way.
I've not been trusted.
The people here, West Indian,
they thought of me as a Fleury, a feudal planter,
bought their ancestors in the marketplace.
But now? I'm standing for the legislature.
Why not?
I combine black and white, the new and the old.
I've a foot in both camps.
And your article gave me
the guts that I needed.
- What'll it be, gentlemen?
- Rum and, uh, ginger. Two of them.
Just water.
I didn't see this before. But now I can look
out at those faces and I can say to them,
"My grandmother was
of African ancestry.
She came over in a slave
trader just as yours did."
Yes, I can say to them,
"I'm one of you now."
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
You're never too young to...
You're never...
- Hello.
- I want to talk to you.
You do? Who the devil are you?
Fleury, Maxwell Fleury.
Ah. Oh, so you are.
What do you want to do?
Make a contribution to the Belfontaine Fund?
- What?
- The fund. The Belfontaine Fund.
I want to talk to you... alone.
There's something that needs
settling between us.
I can't think what.
Anyway, whatever it is, let's do it inside.
- Are you expecting a girl?
- A girl? What would I want with a girl?
Excuse me.
Shall we go in here?
- Make you a whiskey?
- No.
No, I don't believe in chaps
drinking themselves to death.
Leave that for retired colonels.
Remember that song?
You're never too old to be young
And never too
young to be old
You know, I was once married, Fleury.
It was in hospital
in Tripoli during the war.
My wife fell in love with
a Polish musician...
and thought that the best thing
for both of us was a quick divorce.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- Mean? Nothing. It's just a fact.
A second chance... That's what a man needs,
a blasted second chance.
Well, what was it needed settling?
- I want you to leave my wife alone.
- Your wife?
I'm not a fool.
The trouble is you weren't smart enough.
- The whole place stank of those fancy cigarettes of yours!
- Are you out of your mind?
I've had as much as I can take from you
and this island. Do you understand?
- Stay away from my wife.
- Look here. I'm fed up with idiots.
- Are you suggesting I've been making passes...
- I'm not suggesting anything.
- I'm just telling you.
- Then you can ruddy-well untell it and apologize.
And get this into your stupid skull.
I don't make passes at wives of acquaintances,
and I don't share my women.
And even if I did, I wouldn't take something
from someone like you,
with a tarbrush rubbed
across his face.
Tarbrush! I'll show all of you!
Tarbrush! Tarbrush!
Tarbrush! Tarbrush!
Carson?
Carson.
I suppose there's no doubt
about it being murder?
No, not the slightest.
- Anyone in England to whom we can send a cable?
- Not that I know of, sir.
Uh, we could, of course,
put a notice in the Times.
Yes. That's the least we can do.
Was there a woman in the case,
do you think?
- Politics?
- No.
A thief, then.
All right, that's your affair.
I won't meddle.
It seems a bit sad, though,
a chap's life ending like that.
You'll see to it, won't you,
that he's put under with full military honors?
- Of course, sir.
- That will be all, sir?
Yes, that's all.
Good-bye, Colonel.
I suppose this business of Bradshaw's article
is all over Jamestown.
- That and Carson's death.
- Yes, sir.
- What's your opinion, Denis?
- About what, sir?
Having the wrong sort of grandmother.
Well, um, it's difficult to
pick one's ancestors, sir.
Yes. It is, isn't it?
Send a girl in, will you?
I want to dictate a note to Whitehall.
Right, sir.
The governor has some dictation.
Would you go in to him?
I finished the letter to London.
Is it all right?
I've never known
anyone like you.
I never suspected there could be
anything like this.
You're not wearing it.
Well, should I?
Here, in the office?
Wear it.
Here. Let me.
You didn't look at the letter.
The letter? It's perfect.
Jocelyn, I've got the car.
Would you like to come for a drive?
Why don't you, Jocelyn?
We'll go on alone.
Well, I-I have to go past the house
and change my clothes.
All right.
- Hello, Colonel.
- Hello.
Mr. Bradshaw.
Appalling thing. Carson.
He and I were quite
good friends.
I can't understand how it happened.
Is there anyone you suspect, Colonel Whittingham?
Now, Mrs. Fleury, you know policemen.
They suspect everybody.
What time did it happen?
The coroner puts it
at about 10:00.
That's odd.
I went to the club after I left Father's.
I was worrying about Bradshaw's article,
how they'd take it.
I may have passed Carson's house,
at the very moment...
How awful.
You might have saved his life.
A few minutes earlier, I might have met him
in the street. We'd have stopped and talked.
He'd have asked me in for a drink,
and then we'd have found this...
- I suppose it was a thief.
- Quite likely.
Maxwell, on your way to the club,
Bradshaw mentioned the time,
and it occurred to me
that you might have passed Carson's house.
Uh, did you see anybody
hanging about outside?
See anybody?
No.
There was a car that
drove by afterward.
Afterward? After what?
After I passed Carson's house.
I'm sorry I can't be of more help, Colonel.
- Do you think she'll care, Colonel?
- Who?
The ex-Mrs. Carson.
He was very much in love with her, you know.
I couldn't say.
- Poor man. He came out here with such high hopes.
- Mmm.
Well, a chap can't pick the way he'll die,
or we'd all do better at it.
Good-bye, Colonel.
- Here, Colonel, sir.
- Right. Out you get.
I steal nothing, Colonel, sir.
I find purse in cane field.
No money in purse. I keep purse.
Why not keep purse, Colonel, sir?
Now, don't fuss.
Nobody's blaming you.
You just show me where you found that purse,
then you can go home.
What?
No further than that?
No, Colonel, sir.
I found purse right here.
Right.
All right. Bring it back.
All right. Start it up.
No, no. You stay there.
Okay. Back you get.
Drive him to his village.
Here. This'll make up
for the day's work you lost.
- Thank you, sir.
- Everything okay, Colonel, sir?
Fine.
Three.
- Oh, hello, Maxwell.
- Hello, Mavis.
Hello, darling.
There's some news in the paper.
- Oh, what is it?
- They found the wallet.
- What wallet?
- Carson's wallet. Here.
Here. Let me see.
- Would you like a drink?
- Yes, I would.
- How about you, Mavis?
- I'd love one.
Poor Hilary.
That's all they're talking about at the club.
H.E. will probably get a cable
from the colonial office.
They're worried about
the tourist trade.
Of course, there is that
American newspaper man here.
Well, there's one thing sure. It is a small island.
He can't run far, whoever did it.
Tell Sylvia I had to go into town.
Get me 621.
Yes? Just hold on a minute.
Oh, never mind.
Good morning, Maxwell.
Anything I can do for you?
I was wondering, Colonel,
if you'd be kind enough...
to chairman a meeting up
in my district next week.
- I'm standing for election.
- Glad to.
- S-Sylvia all right?
- Yes, fine.
Good.
Uh, I see the papers say
you've found Carson's wallet.
Yes. Yes, Carson's papers were in it.
- That's how we identified him.
- That was stupid.
- What?
- Leaving the papers. At least, I'd say it was stupid.
Would you? Huh.
I'd say too clever.
I ran into Bradshaw.
He's certain it was a housebreaker.
Was he really?
I wonder why.
Is there any other possibility?
A policeman has to keep
his eyes open, you know.
A chap my age
can't afford to miss a bit.
Particularly with the
governor all stirred up.
You mean, it might have been made
to look like a thief's handiwork?
My dear fellow,
how would I know?
There are 15 possibilities.
I'm in the dark.
Which is the likeliest?
Never have preconceptions, my boy.
Open mind, that's the thing.
- Huh.
- You mustn't look too disappointed.
The work gets done.
Never fear.
Let's say I've guessed
who the murderer is.
A guess, mind you.
No more.
Well, it wouldn't do me the slightest of good,
my dear fellow. Not the slightest.
A court wants proof.
So, I-I just wait.
Patience, my boy.
That's the ticket.
Yes, I know that sounds-sounds dull
to you impatient chaps,
but that's police work.
Oh, he'll probably play into my hands,
whoever the fellow is.
I'm in no hurry.
You know, I-I said something
like that to a bloke once.
I can't remember who.
Oh, middle age, my boy,
no memory at all.
Oh, yes. Yes, in B.G.
That's where it was. Yes.
Yes, forgery.
What put me on to my man
was a-a slip he made.
Tiny one. Hardly noticed it.
Chap said "afterward"
instead of "after".
Get the point?
Absolutely the key.
No. No, probably not.
I suppose I didn't
explain it properly.
"Afterward".
That's what gave me the clue.
"Afterward"?
Absolutely, my dear fellow.
That's what put me on the scent.
I'm glad you dropped by.
Happy to do that chairman thing for you.
- You ring me up the day you need it. Cheerio.
- Thank you.
Halt!
You're late.
I'm sorry.
I almost didn't get here.
- Why not?
- Oh, it doesn't matter now.
It does to me.
Why?
Why did you choose
this place to meet?
This plantation used to
belong to my family.
It was the first on the island.
I wanted you to see it.
Your family?
I didn't know that.
It was destroyed during a slave uprising
in 1843, during the French rule.
I wonder what could
have caused it?
Any number of reasons.
A single insult, a whipping, a girl.
Who knows?
Do you know what
happened to the owners?
That was more than a
hundred years ago.
And, now you're here,
and I'm here.
Do you still feel that anyone whose skin
is different from yours is an enemy?
- Do you think I do?
- I don't know.
At carnival time,
my brother-in-law's car was damaged,
his telephone wires cut.
You hate Maxwell, don't you?
You think of him as an enemy.
I think of him as a snob,
as an arrogant plantation owner.
Is that the reason why you
almost didn't get here?
Or did they tell you that you
shouldn't be seen with me?
That I'm an upstart, a nobody who's
gotten control of the union.
That I'm a dangerous man who
should be watched carefully.
You don't suppose I'd listen to them?
I only believe in what I see and what I know.
Do you know what
they say about me?
Poor Mavis Norman,
always getting into trouble.
Always picking the wrong man.
- Do you think of me as an enemy?
- No.
What are you thinking?
That you feel you're lost,
but you're not.
Because you're looking
for something real.
And as long as you're looking for
something real, you're not lost.
I suppose you and your father discussed
that article of Bradshaw's?
- Of course.
- What did he say?
Well, he said we ought to announce
our engagement at once...
and then have a
celebration party.
- When did he say that?
- Last night. When he got back from Guiana.
And what did he say
about our getting married?
"First things first", he said.
"We can talk later about what people in
Victorian homes might call 'naming the day'".
How neat.
- What?
- Your father's no fool.
I thought it was
very decent of him.
What else could he say?
It wouldn't be diplomatic,
would it,
for the governor to offend
the whole colored population of Santa Marta?
Engaged. And then no one can say
that G.H. draws a color line.
- Of course, marriage...
- I bel... My father's never lied to me.
Do you think he'd run
the risk of having a grandson,
an eventual heir,
who's part Negro?
He'll see to it that you go back to England.
Not without you.
It doesn't matter.
The marriage isn't important anyway.
Oh, now, Jocelyn,
we've got to get this clear.
- Bradshaw's article won't mean anything as far...
- It's clear.
It's perfectly clear.
A romance...
isn't that what you wanted?
Eighteen months was such
a long time in Egypt, and without a girl.
Jocelyn, you've got to listen to me.
When we're back in England this won't mean a...
I don't went to hear
about England.
Whatever happens,
I want you to remember one thing.
You'll never be more loved
than you are right now.
What time is it?
It's almost 8:00.
I think we should go.
We're going to be very happy in London,
you know, forever and ever.
Of course.
Forever and ever.
- Have you any Rock Hinde?
- Yes, we have.
I'll take your Rock Hinde.
- Yes.
- Give me some Rock Hinde.
Give me some Rock Hinde!
Give me some Rock Hinde!
- Fish for dinner?
- Rock Hinde. You get it cheap here.
- Oh. I must tell my wife.
- Send it up to my house.
That election meeting
of yours is all set, I hear.
Yes. You're coming out there, aren't you?
I'm counting on it.
Anything new about Carson?
I mean, the man who did it?
I've come to the conclusion
it was an accident.
- An accident?
- Yes. Unpremeditated. A quarrel. That's what it was.
Last thing the poor devil wanted,
Carson dead.
If only he'd come to the police station
right away, we might have smoothed it out.
What a fool he was.
A fool?
Absolutely. You see, the chap who did it,
I'm-I'm sorry for him.
He's not strong enough
to bear the burden of his guilt.
Ever read a book called
"Crime and Punishment"?
- No. Why?
- Well, you should. It's about just this sort of thing.
A man who has committed a crime...
and his relationship with a detective
who knows he's committed it...
but still can't prove it.
There's a- They have a-
have a secret together.
There's a- There's a
deep bond between them.
It's rather like a love affair,
because the detective is the only man
in the world who understands him.
And in his heart, the murderer wants
to be found out by the detective.
Now, this fellow
in the Carson case, you know,
what I'd like to do
is to go up to him,
take him by the arm
and tell him not to worry.
"I'll do my best for you",
I want to say to him.
"I'm not out to punish you.
I'm not out to punish anyone.
"It's just that I've got to maintain law and order.
But I mean you no harm.
"We'll- We'll get it fixed
as manslaughter.
"That might mean
only five years,
"and the sentence could be
remitted for good behavior.
"It might be only three years.
"I know that sounds a
long time now, but...
"three years passes very quickly.
"Now, you look back three years.
Does it seem a long time?
"No, of course it doesn't.
"And, after all, three years isn't
such a big price to pay...
"for your peace of mind.
So, come now.
Confess. Tell me."
Well, that's what I'd like to say to the poor devil,
if he came to me.
Well, I'll be seeing you.
Oh, that book, "Crime and Punishment",
I'll send it over to you.
When you get a chance,
you read it.
Yes.
Hello. Hello.
Good evening.
Excuse me.
I won't be a minute.
Are you nervous?
So am I.
All these people.
It seems so strange and unbelievable,
our being here.
Do you remember
the day of the governor's party,
when poor Hilary Carson
suggested you run for election?
- I never really thought...
- I remember.
It must have come to his mind
that very moment,
because when he came out
to the house that morning...
- He came out to the house?
- Yes.
You knew Carson rather well, didn't you?
Well... No.
I-I wouldn't say well.
Why?
Why did he come out
to the house?
It had to do with the
Belfontaine Fund.
The Belfontaine Fund?
Yes, he wanted to find out
what sort of a gift your father wanted.
It was intended to be some sort
of token of his services to Santa Marta.
He said don't mention it to anybody,
particularly Maxwell.
It was intended as a surprise.
That's all. That's all it was.
Of course.
What did you imagine it was?
It's time to start.
May I have your attention, please?
I'm here tonight as chairman of a meeting
at which Mr. Maxwell Fleury,
who is offering himself as your representative
in the Legislative Council,
will explain his position to you.
Now, you all know Mr. Fleury.
Few West Indian families
bear a name as respected as his.
Mr. Fleury.
The elections for which I stand before you...
The election for which I...
Quiet! Quiet! Stop this!
You've all been given
a chance to vote.
When the time comes,
you'll use it.
And now, let him use
his right to speak.
The floor is yours, Mr. Fleury.
I will not speak
to you from this paper.
This paper is filled with words
that come from my head.
I-I will try to speak to you with words
that come from my heart.
Many of you out there know me.
You've cut my sugar cane and
harvested my coffee crop.
And, yet, I have not known you.
And in this, I've failed,
as I have failed in... other things.
To deny this would be
to deny truth, and...
I will speak to you
tonight only truth.
I have passed you in the fields
or in the cocoa sheds,
and you've been just a name,
or a face, or a number in a book.
And I've lived in a world
through which you moved only as... shadows...
to be feared or ignored.
I've now lived in the two
worlds of Santa Marta.
I know how they both think,
how they both feel.
I also know that they
cannot exist...
if they're cut off from each other
by suspicion and fear,
each in its own loneliness,
as no human being can exist,
in his own loneliness.
This bridge I can help you build.
I ask for your faith, your trust.
Do not deny them to me.
I'll answer any questions
from the floor.
The floor is now open for questions.
I have a few, Mr. Chairman.
I was as moved by Mr. Fleury's
speech as anyone else.
And I agree when he says that the two worlds
cannot exist separate from each other.
The question I would like
to ask Mr. Fleury is this.
Does he think that
the only issue here is one of color?
Is he saying that that is the reason
why we should vote for him?
Is he saying,
"Vote for me because I am one of you"?
Is that what you're saying,
Mr. Fleury?
Because if you are,
I would like to take that issue up...
with your permission, Mr. Chairman.
Mr. Fleury said he has existed
in the two worlds of Santa Marta.
- Which do you think he'll represent?
- I would like to answer that.
When I'm finished, Mr. Chairman!
Would Mr. Fleury
also answer this?
You said that you came here
tonight only to speak the truth.
Wouldn't it also be true to say
that the only reason that you seek the election...
is to revenge yourself upon the whites
whom you now think despise you?
That the only reason
that you want to be black...
is because you're afraid that the white world
will not let you be white anymore?
That you want to use us,
our votes,
so that you can still rule
in that world that you still belong to.
And tell us another truth,
Mr. Fleury.
In your heart, deep down inside,
don't you still think of us as slaves?
- As a stupid, ignorant people?
- That's a lie!
No, Mr. Fleury! That is the truth!
And the issue here is
not just one of color.
The issue here is,
who is really best fit to represent the people?
Who knows them the best?
Who feels for them the most?
Who's really a part of them?
Is it you, Mr. Fleury,
or is it me?
Now you may answer, Mr. Fleury.
- Boyeur! Boyeur!
- Boyeur!
Boyeur! Boyeur!
Boyeur! Boyeur! Boyeur!
David Boyeur!
Boyeur! Boyeur! Boyeur!
He's right! I'm not one of you!
I don't belong to you!
I don't want to be one of you!
I never did!
All right, friends.
The meeting's over. Let's go home.
My comb's gone. I must have left it.
Lend me yours?
- Am I presentable now?
- Mm-hmm.
What was the name of the film
we were supposed to see?
- Red Shoes.
- Oh. Was it good?
A bit long.
Good night, darling.
Uh, Jocelyn,
there's something I want to say.
- Darling, can't...
- It won't take long.
I want us to be married
before I go back to England.
Why?
Because I've an odd feeling that if we
don't get married now, we never shall.
You know, you're the most difficult person
to get a wedding ring on.
Am I?
I'll try not to be.
You're up late.
I've been waiting for Maxwell to call.
How was the film?
A bit long.
Mother, there's something
I want to talk to you about.
Is there a match?
Fruit bowl.
You were saying?
In about three months,
I want to go to Canada.
I'd like to start making
the arrangements now.
Canada? Why on earth
do you want to go there?
Because I'm pregnant.
Does Euan know?
You're sure that you are?
There isn't any doubt.
Well, you're certainly calm about it.
You might show some
shame, some guilt.
If it will make you feel any happier,
I feel quite guilty.
I thought Euan's father wouldn't let us marry,
so I settled for what there was.
I thought, first of all, I'd go to Trinidad,
and then I changed my mind.
I think Canada's the best idea.
I could have it adopted. It shouldn't be hard.
There's only one thing.
I shouldn't like Daddy to know.
He's been through enough.
- That's why I need your help.
- My help?
You care about appearances,
what people will say.
Thank you.
Of course, you know that
you've behaved stupidly.
You have behaved like a peasant girl
in the cane fields.
I suppose that's neither here nor there.
It's the future that matters.
May I have another match?
You might at least strike it.
You're engaged.
You can get married in a hurry.
You've not quarreled with him?
He says he wants to marry me
when he goes back to England.
- I'm not marrying Euan.
- Why not? You're insane.
- You are still in love with him?
- Yes.
Then what on earth is there
to stop your marrying?
I've told you the reason.
Don't be ridiculous.
The English Peerage isn't that sacred.
Think of Euan.
Think of the jokes there'd be made about it.
You might have thought of that
two months ago.
I didn't know then about
my Jamaican grandmother.
- Is that the only reason why you're refusing to marry him?
- It is.
If you had the chance,
if things were different...
- No. They're not different.
- I know. I know. But supposing they were?
Would you give anything
to marry him?
Yes.
Very well.
I owe you this.
You need have no qualms
about marrying Euan.
There isn't a drop of African blood in your veins.
My husband isn't your father.
- Isn't?
- No.
Well, then who?
That's immaterial.
It's better you shouldn't know.
He's completely English.
You can rest assured of that.
I shall tell Lord Templeton who he is.
He has a right to know who will be
the other grandfather of his grandchildren.
Telling him will be the hardest thing
I've ever had to do.
But it must be done.
He may have your
old-fashioned ideas.
I must ask you for the same
consideration you asked me.
I'd rather your father...
I'd rather my husband
didn't know.
You were always so devoted.
I never conceived the possibility
of another man in your life.
Children don't.
They think mistakes are their privilege.
Mother...
I don't want you to talk
to Lord Templeton.
I don't want you to
tell him anything.
But he should know.
I'll tell Euan... eventually.
But I won't have you humiliate
yourself for my sake.
Or for Euan's,
or even for Lord Templeton's.
Shall I put the car away, darling?
No, I'll put it away later.
Are you hungry?
Not very.
There's some cold lobster in the
refrigerator and a bottle of champagne.
We could have it upstairs.
Wouldn't you like that?
I suppose.
Do you know what I was
thinking on the way home?
That I've never seen snow.
Imagine being my age and
never seeing snow.
Oh, it would be so wonderful to go
to someplace after Santa Marta...
where they have real blizzards,
real winters.
When did Whittingham
send this over?
The other day.
I forgot to mention it to you.
Have you read it?
Yes.
The murderer confesses, I suppose.
Yes.
Is he married?
The man in the book who does the murder?
- No, he's not married.
- Pity.
I might have been tempted
to read it if he were.
Why?
He wouldn't want
to hurt his wife.
He wouldn't want her ever to know about it
and suffer on account of it.
The detective knows, doesn't he?
I mean, in the book.
And the fellow who did it is in a trap.
And it's closing in,
getting tighter every day.
Not a chance of ever
getting out of it.
What about that champagne
you promised me?
Were you jealous
of Hilary Carson?
Yes. I envied him because
he was the kind of man...
I thought that I wanted
to be and I couldn't.
I thought you were
attracted to him.
Hilary Carson?
I loved you.
I thought you didn't love me.
I thought that
sooner or later...
you'd fall in love with some man
who was better suited to you.
I thought Carson was
that kind of a man.
- Maxwell.
- Yes.
You didn't have anything
to do with the...
Don't be foolish.
You know that I'm incapable
of killing a man.
I'm going upstairs.
I'll bring the champagne up.
Darling?
I-I'll be out in a moment.
I wonder when Jocelyn's
getting married.
Funny, a few weeks ago,
I'd have been envious of her.
I mean, London, a big house,
and being Lady Templeton.
Now it doesn't matter so much.
Do hurry, darling.
I saw a film the other day
about a little town in New England.
New England. That's where I'd like to live.
The characters in the film
lived in a little house,
and it had a wonderful kitchen
with all sorts of gadgets.
With a kitchen like that,
you don't need servants.
That's how I'd like to live.
Not in some big old house built
hundreds of years ago,
and getting dressed
for a lonely dinner.
You see? That's the sort
of woman you married.
Maxwell!
Maxwell!
Darling, will you call
Colonel Whittingham...
and tell him that I'm coming
down to see him right away?
I like this.
I've resigned.
The governor found out about us.
Oh? Well, what did he say?
He left the decision to me.
Oh, he talked about the book too.
He was disturbed about that also.
But this is the best thing
you've ever done.
Even if it's true, he said, it isn't fair
to those who've had to stay on the island.
Fair? It's true!
It's so true and so
good that it hurts.
When are you leaving?
Friday.
- What about you?
- You needn't worry.
I'll be broke.
There's nothing much I've saved here.
And the book's a long way
from being done.
We've never looked ahead. We...
We never discussed anything,
but just lived from day to day.
Is there something you
want to discuss?
Yes, there is.
Life without you.
Writing things you won't
be the first to read.
Feeling things we can't share.
How long would it
take you to pack?
But I...
Mmm, two hours.
I don't have very much either.
There's a plane leaves
for England on Friday.
I'll send a car for you.
All right.
You don't seem very surprised...
at our going to England together.
Where you go, I go.
May I have your attention, please?
This is the final call
for B.W.I.A. Viscount
Flight 072 to New York
connecting with B.O.A.C. Monarch
to London now loading.
Do you mind if I don't wait
until the plane goes?
Sylvia's alone.
Good-bye.
Well, sir. There they go.
Poor Julian.
Who'd have thought a son of his?
What will the indictment be
against Maxwell, Colonel?
Well, we'll try and get it
in as manslaughter, sir.
I meant to have a talk with Euan
when he arrived... father to son.
But I never did.
Now he's married.
Good-bye, sir.
There's the plane for England.
In the girl's case...
Does it work the other way around?
I mean, Denis Archer marries Margot.
Euan marries Jocelyn.
But, when it's the other way around,
does it make any difference?
Out here, yes.
How big is Santa Marta?
It's 50 miles long.
There are other countries.
My skin is my country.
Maybe the men looking at Margot
at some cocktail party in Bloomsbury,
or at a literary tea...
well, they'd envy Denis Archer.
Their own wives look sort of dull
when she walks into a room.
But if I were to walk in with you,
or a girl like you as my wife...
Do you care what stupid
and prejudiced people think?
You've never had to fight stupidity or prejudice.
Besides, I'd be a fool.
- Why?
- Because it would be inevitable.
What would be?
That night that she'd forget herself
and call me a nigger.
You can't mean that.
You can't possibly mean that!
- No. I don't.
- Then why did you say it?
Because here is my world.
These are my people, and this is where I belong.
If I went to England, who would I be?
What would I be?
- David Boyeur.
- No.
I'd be an exile in a bowler hat,
sipping tea, and carrying a rolled umbrella,
talking with the other exiles about how much
we could do if we were only there.
But I'm here.
I don't have to go.
And even here,
I'd be in your way, wouldn't I?
Yes, you would be in my way.
- Besides, they'd never understand.
- Who wouldn't?
My own people.
They'd feel I betrayed them.
I have no choice.
You're like a rock.
Yes. I'm buried deep right here.
My people have their freedom.
They've got a vote.
They've got power now.
And I've got to show them
how to use it.
When I'm through here
in Santa Marta,
I'll go to St. Kitts and Barbados and Grenada...
the whole archipelago.
Shall I tell you why
you won't go to England?
You don't want that power for your people.
You want it for yourself.
You're afraid to go there
because you won't have it anymore.
- Do you really mean that?
- I wanted to admire you,
to feel that you were
superior to most men.
People don't count with you.
Nothing counts with you but power.
You use people.
You climb on their backs.
You can't mean that.
No, I don't.
You're right and I'm wrong.
I'm wrong and you're right.
- And that's the end, is it?
- Yes. That's the end.