(bright music)
(man gasping) (melancholy music)
(dramatic music)
- Billy!
Billy.
(train whooshing)
- [Passenger] Shut the door, (indistinct).
(train whistles)
(steam hissing)
(brakes squeaking)
- [Conductor] Oxgodby!
- You've gotta be rearin' soaked.
Right down to the skin, they say.
- Ticket please!
Hey, you can borrow me umbrella if thou wants.
- What?
- I said you can borrow me umbrella.
- Oh, that's all right.
I'm not going far.
- Cup of tea then, in the station house?
- Thank you, but I have an appointment.
- Aye, I know.
You've come to the church, haven't ya?
Well, if you don't find what you're looking for there,
come and see us other lot at chapel.
- Thank you.
(rain pattering)
Bugger it!
(thunder rumbling)
(dramatic music)
- What were you doing?
Just now, outside?
- Oh, checking the rain gutters, the downpipes.
- Why?
- Because if they were no
good, there would've been no point
in my bothering to come in.
It would have been destroyed, you see?
- Oh, well, if you'd waited to ask me,
I could've told you they're all functioning perfectly.
You could've saved yourself a run in the rain.
I'm Keach, by the way.
Reverend J. G. Keach.
It was I who wrote you.
If you're Mr. Birkin, that is.
I take it you are.
- Yes.
- At what time did you leave London?
- 11 o'clock.
- I see that in your anxiety to check the gutters,
you didn't take time to drop your things off?
Where do you intend to stay?
- Well I thought here.
- Here?
Where here?
- What about the belfry?
- The belfry?
I can't say that appeals to me,
having somebody live in the belfry.
Shouldn't you take lodgings, a room in the Shepherd's Arms.
- I'm a bit short, you see?
- Oh, I see.
Well then, in that case.
But I should warn you that ropes pass
through the belfry floor when Mossop rings them.
- I don't mind.
- Very well then.
What period is it supposed to be,
the mural, the wall painting?
- Oh, I would guess about 1430 or something like that.
The survivors avoided hellfire
by donating wall paintings to churches.
It's impossible to say for sure but of course
'til I've uncovered some of it.
- In any case about 1430.
We shan't entertain any extras.
- There won't be any.
- There mustn't be any.
Now you've agreed a fee of 25 guineas,
12 pounds, 10 shillings to be paid halfway
and 13 pound 15 shillings when finished
and approved by the executives.
- Not by you?
- Miss Hebron omitted my name
from the form requested,
an oversight, of course, but to all intents and purposes,
I represent the executives.
You answer to them through me.
I shan't mind if you touch it up.
- Touch it up?
- Well, it's faded.
You can fill them in as long as it's appropriate.
Turns in with the rest.
- Turns in with the rest?
Of course it isn't absolutely sure
that there's anything there.
- Of course there's something there.
Mr. Birkin, you should know here and now
that your employment here does not have my support,
but as the solicitors refused to pay out
her 1000 pound request to our fabric fund
until your job is finished, I have no choice.
When the painting is uncovered,
it will be in full view of the congregation.
It'll distract from worship.
- After a time, they won't notice it.
- It'll distract.
Well, Mr. Birkin, I shall leave you
to settle into your quarters.
Good night.
(dramatic music)
- Oxgodby.
(man gasping)
(birds chirping)
(wood thudding)
(reverent music)
(door creaks)
- Morning.
Hi, good morning, James Moon.
I'm chap in the bell tent.
It's in the field opposite.
I meant to let you settle in
but I felt I had to come and have a look at you.
Well, it's partly that,
but really 'cause I get so stiff in the night,
my legs force me up.
That's how I stumble across most mornings
to see if Leticia's managed to climb out during the night.
Well, I mean, you never know, do you?
Oh, most loving and delightful wife.
I could never make out if that was grief or relief.
Do you mind if I come up for a moment?
I won't if you think I'm invading.
- Come up.
- Good.
So, you think that's something there, eh?
- [Tom] I hope so.
- Go with it by hope.
What do you think you'll find?
- Judgment, I expect.
- Ah, yes, yes, a judgment.
Yes, that's what it would be, wouldn't it?
- The judgements always got the plum spot
so the whole parish could see the
God awful things that would happen to 'em
if they didn't fork out their tithes
and marry the girls they got with child.
- St. Michael waves over, Christ in majesty reverie,
and down below the fire, the flame, of evermore, eh?
Look, why don't you come over
and have a cup of tea before you start?
Come on, you got the whole summer.
Spin out the anticipation another half an hour,
why don't you?
Come on.
So officially I'm looking for the grave
of Miss Hebron's forbearer,
one Piers Hebron, born 1373.
He was excommunicated,
buried somewhere outside the graveyard
so all I have to do is spend three or four weeks digging
for his bones and if I can't find him...
- You'll have wasted your time.
- Wasted my time?
Good God, man, can't you see?
I'm not here for Piers' bones.
I'm here for a major discovery.
We're standing on a basilica.
Saxon chapel, probably goes back to 600.
I've already come across a couple of cremation jars.
There must be hundreds of them.
Oh, you'll keep quiet about it though, won't you?
I didn't want anyone to tumble to what I'm up to
until I've got all I want and written it up.
- So you're doing one job and being paid for another?
- Well, that's right.
Why not, if it's money well spent?
And I'll leave some time to prod
around for Piers's bones before I go.
I'll find them, don't you worry.
Oh whoops!
Whoops!
You were over there too.
That's where you developed your twitch and stammer.
(melancholy music)
Well, I developed a great affection for holes.
They make me feel safe.
And they keep me insulated.
Here, have a look at this.
It's my latest cremation jar.
- Moon.
- Morning, Colonel, morning, Mossop.
The Colonel is Miss Hebron's brother.
Mossop looks after the church.
This is Mr. Birkin who's come to uncover the painting.
- Ah, good.
Well done.
And what about you, Moon, making progress?
Any sign of old Piers' bones yet?
- Not yet, Colonel.
- Found anything out of the ordinary?
Gold or silver?
Jugs and jars, et cetera?
- Well, I wish I had.
- Press on, let me know.
Stay as long as you like.
Care to umpire for us on Saturdays?
Mossop here says he can't manage any longer
on account of his legs.
Well, would've liked to lodge up with you.
Another morning, perhaps.
I shall be on my way.
Things to do.
So, Mossop, there's your umpiring taken care of.
Very similar.
- Thou found summat then?
- Oh, just the usual artifacts, Mossop.
(birds chirping)
(men laughing)
There.
(reverent music)
- Yes, well he isn't out of the usual catalog is he?
He's a real wintry hard liner, your Christ.
All justice and no mercy.
I wouldn't fancy being in the dock if he was the beat.
And he shall come with the woundes red
to damn the quick and the dead.
(bells clanging)
- Now hear the words of Jesus
to lead us and encourage us in prayer.
Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand,
come ye blessed of my father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation
of the world
for I was anhungered and He gave me meat.
I was thirsty and He gave me drink.
I was a stranger and He took me in naked and He clothed me.
I was sick and He visited me.
I was in prison.
- Look behind you, Keach.
- [Keach] He came unto me.
- That's what you're praying to.
- [Keach] Then shall the righteous answer Him saying-
- He doesn't want your prayers.
He wants some answers.
Did you feed the hungry, hm?
- [Keach] And thirsty and gave me drink.
- [Tom] Did you give drink to the thirsty?
- [Keach] I say unto you, come ye blessed of my father.
- [Tom] Did you clothe the naked and needy?
- [Keach] Have the kingdom prepared for you.
- What about me, eh?
Any of you offer me bed and board?
- [Keach] Stranger and took thee in, all naked-
- Smug Yorkshire lot.
I'll have a word with him about the way you've treated me.
He'll get you yet.
- The King shall answer and say unto them,
verily, I say unto you,
in as much as ye have done it unto one
of the least of these, my brethren,
you have done it unto me.
- Hello there, Mr. Birkin.
- Hello.
- I'm Kathy Ellerbeck and this me brother, Edgar.
Our dad's station master.
We brought you rabbit pie
'cause Mum says you need nourishment.
- Thank you.
- Our dad said you must be miserable workin' all day
on your own up there
so he said we could play you some records, didn't he?
- Can we come up now?
- Sorry no one's allowed up.
That's an absolute rule.
- What about Mr. Moon?
Mr. Mossop said you let him up?
- Well, we have a reciprocal agreement.
He looks at my work and I look at his.
- Can we stay down here then?
- As long as you don't mind my turning my back on you.
(bright music)
Why do you want to?
- Me dad says you're an opportunity
that might not come again in a little spot like this.
Watching an artist at work.
- I'm not an artist.
I'm just a laborer who cleans up after artists.
- We have a picture painted on our chapel wall,
behind the pulpit.
- Three big (indistinct) lilies.
It's very beautiful.
- [Tom] Why?
- Why what?
- Why lilies?
Why just lilies?
I mean, why not lilies and roses or just roses.
Or roses and daisies?
- 'Cause around it, it says conceded lilies
in official lettering.
It's a text.
Consider lilies, how they grow, they toil not, you know?
- Well, why couldn't they look at roses or daisies?
- Oh, I don't know.
(crickets chirping)
- Oh, this is very nice.
From the station master's wife, eh?
- Her children brought it.
- And what has the Reverend J.G. Keach brought you?
- Nothing.
- No money yet?
Oh, by the way you said something the other day
about longing for a woodbine.
Well look what I dug up this morning.
- Thanks.
- Well.
I shall see you anon.
(peaceful music)
- [Alice] Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?
- That depends on whether I'm awake or not.
You been here long?
- Maybe 10 minutes, I'm not sure.
I'm Alice Keach.
I just came to find out if you're all right
in the bell loft or if there's anything you needed.
It seems so inhospitable, you up there on the floorboards
and we in our beds.
We've got to traveling rug.
- No, I'm all right.
At the end of the day, I'm so tired I sleep sleep like the
dead.
And during the day sometimes too.
- Oh, well.
(James shouting)
- He's working off his cramp.
- Oh.
The painting, when will we be able to see all of it.
- Well, I don't know.
It's a bit like a jigsaw.
A face, a shoe here a bit, there a bit.
Comes together very slowly.
If it comes together at all.
And of course after
500 years I can't be sure.
- But that's the exciting part, isn't it?
Not knowing what's around the corner.
Like opening a parcel at Christmas.
So you must let me see it.
Anyway, I'll haunt you a little until you do.
- You related to the Reverend J.G. Keach, the vicar?
- Yes, I'm his wife.
(peaceful music)
- [James] Mrs. Keach.
- [Alice] Mr. Moon.
- She's a stunner, isn't she?
- Is she?
- Of course she is!
And you know it.
Come on, admit you do.
- Oh, I admit it.
Perhaps she wouldn't.
Perhaps she doesn't even know it.
- Rubbish, every woman knows if she's beautiful
and imagine Keach catching her of all people.
You're married too, aren't you?
- Sort of.
She went off another chap.
Not for the first time.
Can't say I blame her really.
Her name's Finny.
- Yes, thought it might be something like that.
As for me, never really met the right woman.
Luckily for her.
(bright music)
- That's all for today, Mr. Birkin.
- Right.
- Mum and Dad say you got to come to dinner on Sunday.
- What?
- You're coming to dinner on Sunday.
- Oh, thank you.
- Mr. Douthwaite'll be coming and all, blacksmith.
Comes most Sundays.
- Right, well, thank you.
Oh, what time?
- 11 o'clock, of course.
- [Tom] 11 o'clock?
- Yeah, chapel, it starts at 11.
- Brethren and fellow sinners, yea sinners!
I say sinners for are we all not here unto sinners.
Is there one amongst you here
who can say he is not a sinner?
Is there?
If so, I challenge him to come forward and speak.
- Lord, well, what it boils down to Lord
is that we'd like to accept with thanks
and we'd like you to know that as we sit down
to dinner today, we all eat
with great loving heart and gratitude
for we know Lord that without thee,
we wouldn't have a dinner.
And furthermore, we wouldn't be here in first place.
- My father was a butcher, Mr. Birkin.
(birds chirping)
(man snoring)
(bell chiming)
(train whooshing)
(whistle tweets)
- It's Balatton Ferry for me this afternoon, Mother.
- Does it have to be you?
But you're tired out.
You should be lying down, not doing that long walk
in the sun.
- Last time you went, you came back all faint.
Didn't he, Mum?
- Yea, I'd do it for thee, Jack,
thou knows but I promised to teach Bible
at Grimsley Sunday School.
- No, it's all right, George.
I'll manage.
- Mr. Birkin here'll go for ya.
Won't ya, Mr. Birkin?
- What?
Go where?
- We'll show ya.
- Well, what do ya say?
- Well, there's no denying that Mr. Birkin's legs
are younger than mine.
- You wouldn't mind going, would you Mr. Birkin?
- To do what?
- Just a bit of preaching.
- I've never preached in my life.
- Well, you heard me this morning.
Just do that.
- Yes.
Just do what Dad does.
(people singing)
- Brethren.
And fellow sinners.
My sermon today derives.
Derives.
(kids giggling)
Look here, I only came in place of Mr. Ellerbeck today
because he's-
He's indisposed.
I can't preach.
So all I can do is tell you about what I'm up to in Oxgodby
in the church there.
And if you want to leave or nod off,
then that's all right by me.
Well, I'm cleaning the wall,
the one above the nave because behind the dirt
and the layers of paint, there's a picture.
So there I am, you see, up on my scaffolding
scraping away until I get back to the picture itself.
It's really all patience, you see, my sort of work.
But I don't get any second chances.
That's what makes it so exciting.
One dab too few and some poor chap
won't get back from five centuries ago,
one dab too many and wiped him out forever.
Makes me sound rather like God, doesn't it?
Well, really I'm just a servant like every one of us
except I'm the servant of the painter.
I hope I'm good enough to serve this painter
because he deserves the very best of servants.
(dog barking)
- You from London are ya, Mr. Birkin?
- Yes.
London, that's right.
- We've never met a Londoner before.
- You're the first, Mr. Birkin.
- Oh.
- You were over there, were you?
Mr. Birkin, in France.
- So was our Perc.
He had it taken on his last leave, on his 19th birthday.
- He was a right good lad, Perc.
Real worker.
He'd give hand to anybody.
Everybody liked him.
Well, would you like to look at the farm, Mr. Birkin?
- Yes, Lucy, why don't you show Mr. Birkin round the farm?
- Would you like to see around?
- We can't.
We've gotta visit Emily Clough.
We promised her.
And we told our Sunday school teacher
we'd take her her star card.
- Emily Clough?
- We said we'd bring you at all.
She's expecting ya, innit she?
- Aye.
- Oh, well perhaps another Sunday.
(cow moos)
(wings whooshing)
(birds tweeting)
(chickens clucking)
- [Kathy] Mrs. Clough, we've come
to bring Emily some flowers.
- Go on up.
On the way out you can have a jam tart.
(shoes thudding)
- I brought ya your star card, Emily.
Mr. Douthwaite stamped it S for sick.
He says count so many stars.
You only need six more stars for a prize.
- Oh, S is for sick.
- I've been thinking about my prize.
I'd like "Forgotten Garden".
What are you two having?
- "Pearl Island" and Edgar's having
"The Children of the New Forest".
- Isn't that a bit beyond him?
- He'll grow to like it later.
I've heard it's a good story with two girls in it.
Mr. Birkin's the man livin' in church, Emily.
- Oh, I've heard about you.
I hope you'll still be there when I'm up, Mr. Birkin.
I like your straw hat, Kathy.
Can I try it on?
(Emily coughing)
(birds chirping)
(bright music)
- [Kathy] She knows she's dyin', don't she?
- [Ellerbeck] Hello Kathy.
Is Mr. Birkin here as good as your dad at the preaching?
- Well, he didn't really do no preaching.
Just talked about his painting, didn't he?
- He did and all.
- You feeling all right, Mr. Birkin?
You've hardly touched your tea.
- [Kathy] He had his tea at Lucy Sykes', (indistinct).
- [Mrs. Ellerbeck] She's a fine strong girl is Lucy Sykes.
- [Ellerbeck] That's right, good Christian upbringing too.
- [Mrs. Ellerbeck] Time we asked her
to the Sunday School outing, eh Father?
- Aye, aye, I meant to last year.
- Please excuse me.
I must get back.
- It's that Lucy Sykes.
He's been funny ever since he saw her.
(reverent music)
- God, what God?
There is no God!
(birds chirping)
(James shouting)
(James crying)
- [Tom] I don't really want "Roses of Picardy" this morning
if you don't mind.
- Well, will you accept my traveling rug?
- Oh.
Sorry, I thought you were someone else.
- Yes, I know Kathy Ellerbeck and that gramophone.
Now you'll have to let me come up.
That was our agreement.
May I?
Mr. Moon was saying that he was sure you wouldn't let me.
You wanted to keep it all to yourself.
But this is horrible.
It's horrible.
It's it's like a sort of hell.
- It's probably not so horrible if you believed in it.
- Do you believe in it?
- When I look at it when I'm working on it,
I believe in his belief.
It's impossible not to, really.
- But otherwise you don't believe there's a hell?
- Well, I suppose hell means different things
to different people.
- What does it mean to you?
- Hell on earth, I think?
- Yes, of course.
Although I don't really understand.
How could I?
- [Tom] Why should you?
- Well, I suppose one should try.
- No you shouldn't, I'd rather you didn't.
- Were you always in the cleaning business, Mr. Birkin?
- My father traveling
soap.
- Thank you.
For letting me see.
(peaceful music)
(bell ringing)
Hello.
- I came to see your husband but he isn't-
- Oh, he wouldn't be able to hear you.
He's playing right at the end of the house.
(peaceful violin music)
You haven't been here before have you?
We have it all to ourselves.
Most of the rooms are empty, you see, completely empty.
This one and this one.
It can be quite oppressive.
Gives me nightmares sometimes,
well, the same nightmare really,
that the trees are closing in
and there are only the walls to stop them.
I just found Mr. Birkin on the doorstep,
but you couldn't hear the bell.
- No, I suppose not.
At least, I didn't hear it.
- We don't have many visitors, you see.
- No, one gets out of the habit of listening for them.
- I was just saying to Mr. Birkin,
such a big house for the two of us, isn't it?
- Yes, yes it is, really.
- And the rooms, we don't know how to fill them, do we?
- No, no, that's true.
- Except for that.
At least it's big enough.
We don't know what it is or what it does.
It seems to be part of something else.
My husband's father bought it in an auction sale
because nobody else wanted it.
To help fill up the room, didn't he?
- That's right, he did.
- I just came to sort out the question of my money.
- The money.
I suppose you brought a receipt, Mr. Birkin.
- A receipt?
- For the money.
I sent Mossop with your installment this morning.
Didn't he give it to you?
- We must've passed each other.
- Well, perhaps you'd like to see the rest of the house?
- Thank you, I have to get back to work.
- Did you come by the wood?
- No, the road.
- Well, I'll show you the way through the wood.
- When are you going to show my wife the painting.
She's very anxious to see it.
- Oh, I've already seen it.
- Have you?
I haven't realized.
(shoes clacking)
- These are my roses.
I spend a lot of time on then.
But I don't know why,
because there really isn't anyone to look at them but me.
This is a Van Fleet.
Very old variety.
(birds chirping)
Mind the sharp thorns.
They keep blooming until autumn
so you'll know when summer's ended
because I usually wear one of the last in my hat.
(peaceful music)
- This beautiful, a kind of paradise.
- Look.
- Many men would say that you were beautiful, Mrs. Keach.
- Oh.
(gun roars) (Tom gasps)
(birds chirping)
- Yes, well, that's what comes of believing in paradise.
(branches rustling)
- Oh.
(peaceful music)
- Look at this.
Have you ever seen a detail like this
in a medieval painting?
Anticipates the Bruegels by 100 years.
That face meant something to him.
It's a portrait, must be.
And he was covered over years before the rest.
- It's the crescent.
One could swear he was almost meant to be identifiable.
Would he have dared, your painter?
And what was he like?
You must know him pretty well by now.
- I can't even put a name to him.
He hasn't signed it.
Why would he, our idea of person
may have meant nothing to him.
But he was fair-haired and I know that
from hairs that keep turning up
where his beard prodded into the paint.
He was right handed, about your build.
And he needed a step ladder to get up to six foot.
The weird thing is, he didn't finish the job himself.
See this bit here?
It's a rough job, fill in.
Probably done by his apprentice.
I cannot imagine why.
Just when his nose was past the finishing post.
And he knew this was his great work.
You can feel it, can't you?
Everything he'd done before was just a run up to this.
He sweated here.
Tossed in his bed.
Groaned, howled over it.
- And he shall come with woundes red, eh?
Well done.
(melancholy music)
(dramatic music)
- Moon, he fell!
That's why he didn't finish it.
It was his last job, he fell!
- Oh, well you better watch it then, eh?
(train whistle tweets)
- Ah, but Mr. Birkin, you've a real eye for quality.
That anybody can tell.
We want the best there is.
- What's more to the point, Mr. Birkin,
is we want best we can afford.
(people chattering) (animals braying)
(man whistles)
- Look at this lot.
(bright organ music)
- Well I'm no great musician, Mr. Birkin.
I'll freely admit that,
but there's one thing I do know about and that's wind.
Jack, no.
- What do you think, Mr. Birkin?
- Well, this one vibrates.
- That's right, that it does.
- And that one smells odd.
- Then this is the one we test to the limit.
Kathy, lass.
(bright organ music)
- Go and quiet him.
He's gonna make that din for, Mr. Birkin.
(bright organ music)
- Excuse me.
♪ Love of ages left for me ♪
♪ Shall be he ♪
♪ Let the water and the plant ♪
♪ From thy river site which flowed ♪
- I must prefer the jollier hints.
- [George] I was impressed, Jack.
There's a deep resonance of its bass notes,
I think you'll agree with me there.
- Aye, sound as a bell.
Now that, Mr. Birkin, was music.
- Beautiful.
- [Jack] That's it then.
We'll have the Albudeck.
- Any discount for cash down?
- Aye, a couple of quid off for cash in hand.
- Good man.
- And to include delivery of course.
- [Organ Salesman] Where to?
- Oxgodby. - Chapel.
- Good day. - Good day.
(people chattering) (bells ringing)
- Actually, I'd quite like to have a look
at the church a moment.
- Come on, (indistinct), come on.
- See thee later.
(townspeople chattering)
- Excuse me, you here from Oxgodby?
- Yes, but just visiting.
- Have you bumped into a chap called Moon over there?
James Moon, digging up some fields or summat?
- Yes I have.
- And is he a stocky fair-haired sorta chap, smiles a lot?
- That's pretty well him, yes.
- A captain in the 18th Norfolk Artillery?
That clinches it then.
Must be the same chap.
Would you give him a salute from me?
- Of course.
- And all the other officers in the 18th Norfolk.
The ones who didn't sit out the last six months
of the war in a glass house, like our hero did.
For buggerin' his batman.
(hooves clopping)
- Want some milk?
- No.
Thanks.
(sheep bleating)
- It agrees with you, doesn't it?
- What does?
- Oxgodby.
Since you've been here, they've almost gone,
your twitch, tremor and stammer.
- Yes, I suppose they have.
Hadn't noticed.
- What about the vicar's lovely lady?
You seen anything of her?
- No, not really.
- Oh, pity.
- Is it?
- No, not really.
Better off without it, aren't we?
We want an easy life.
(birds chirping)
- Well, here's to an easy life.
(peaceful music)
- [Townsman] All right, all right.
Come on, Dan, I'll buy you a pint.
- I have wanted it to happen.
There were times when I'd just had enough.
Well, you know that.
So many had gone.
Chaps I cared for.
Sometimes it seemed like they were the lucky ones.
Night's a bad time.
I expect you've heard me.
I still wake up screaming.
I can still see them.
Still see.
And I tell myself it'll get better as time passes
and it sinks further back.
But it's got nowhere to sink to, has it?
We'll always be different, won't we?
The whole lot of us,
all the millions of us that survived.
If millions did.
Different, I mean, from the generations who went before
who had no idea that anything like that could ever happen.
I don't know if it's worse
not having something to show for it
like a lost limb or two or blindness.
I mean, people like you and me, the intact ones.
Worst part for me was the last six months
when I was kept away from the fighting.
Went for months without seeing a single corpse.
Faces that I did see
passed.
A little bit round the bend, you know?
Always will be, I expect.
Still, no point in letting it get one down, eh?
One has one's life to lead.
And then he shall come with woundes red, eh?
To damn the quick and the dead.
- You got a Military Cross, didn't you?
I saw it in your tent.
- I did.
There go the chapel lot again.
Once they buy themselves a new organ.
(peaceful music)
- Well, what is it?
- Either a boulder deep than it ought to be
or the lid of a stone coffin, perhaps.
Do you know what this is for?
Isn't it exciting?
Digging where someone must've dug 5, 600 years ago hm?
Well, you're spoiled of course.
You clean a wall and uncover a masterpiece.
Turn over the earth and expect to find a pot of gold.
But we diggers, we keep our palates fresh.
Miles of deviation of tinge is all we need
to stir the blood.
Haven't you noticed that you're throwing up soil
that should've been three spits deeper.
Thank you.
Ah!
Horn button, 15th century, right on target.
- Well, come on, is it Piers or isn't it?
(speaking in Latin)
- I of all men, the most wretched.
They really had it in for the poor devil, didn't they?
Wonder why.
Oh, well, I suppose we shall never know.
Come on, let's take a look.
(men groaning)
(suspenseful music)
Third rib down.
(indistinct)
So Piers was a Muslim.
A Muslim in Oxgodby.
He must've got caught up
in some medieval crusade, I suppose.
Converted to save his skin.
Imagine the ruction when he turned up here,
and was still worshiping to the east.
Well, no wonder they buried him outside the churchyard.
Well, well, both our mysteries solved.
- It was the same mystery wasn't it?
- Mossop told me you'd finished.
I can see you have.
Very good.
In accordance with the executives' wishes,
here's the final payment of Miss Hebron's estate.
13 pound 15 shillings, as was agreed.
- What do you think of it?
- Well, it's there.
So you've done the job you're contracted for
and now you've been paid.
- Thank you.
Of course I'll need the scaffolding for several more days.
- Why?
- Because I haven't finished.
- What remains to be done?
- That's for me to decide.
- I shall have the scaffolding removed.
- Oh will you?
Then I shall inform the executives
that you prevented me from completing my work,
which will leave them with the obligation
to contribute 1000 pounds to your fabric fund, won't it?
- I should not wish to quarrel with you, Mr. Birkin.
I know how you see me, Mr. Birkin, the way you want to.
You've never thought what it's like
for a man like me, have you?
The English are not a deeply religious people.
Most of those who attend divine service do so
only from habit.
Their acceptance of the sacrament is perfunctory.
I've yet to meet the man whose hair rose
at the nape of his neck,
because he was about to taste the blood of his dying Lord.
Will I find such a man in Oxgodby?
Even when they come to my church in large numbers
at harvest, Thanksgiving, or Christmas, midnight masses,
it's really a pagan salute to the passing of the seasons.
They do not need me.
They merely find me useful.
Baptisms, weddings, funerals, oh, chiefly funerals,
because I see to the orderly disposal of their dead.
But I'm embarrassing you.
And embarrassing people is a grave sin, is it not?
If you could let me know
when I might have the scaffolding dismantled.
(melancholy music)
- I hear you've finished.
- Yes.
- I brought you some apples to say goodbye with.
- Thank you.
- They're Ribston Pippins.
They do very well up here.
Exactly the right soil and climate.
Lots of other varieties don't take though.
- You're an expert on apples too, are you?
- I am.
My father taught me.
Before he bit into one,
he'd sniff it and roll it around and his cupped palms
and he'd smell his hands
and he'd tap and finger it like a blind man.
Sometimes he'd ask me to close my eyes
and when I'd taken a bite, say which apple.
So.
So this is where you've been living all this time.
(birds chirping)
And there's Mr. Moon.
- Yes.
He's dug up the bones he was commissioned to dig up.
Turned up an Anglo-Saxon basilica in the process.
Basilica's what he really came for.
Knew it was here.
- So you've both found what you came to find.
- Well, I-
(melancholy music)
- Well, I'm glad.
Oh.
Your book.
- Hello?
Mr. Birkin?
Mr. Birkin!
- Letter for you.
Postman asked me to bring it in.
- Thank you.
It's from my wife, Finny.
Probably wants us to start over again.
She usually does.
- And will you?
- I usually do.
So, where are you off to?
- Basra Baghdad.
Big dig going on over there.
Like to get in on it.
- [Tom] Right.
- [James] What about you?
- Oh, I don't know.
Wait for another church, I suppose.
- You'll never get another one like this.
- I know.
(birds chirping)
Been a summer, hasn't it?
- So, anyway.
Well...
(shoes clacking)
(birds chirping)
(reverent music)
- [Kathy] Hello there, Mr. Birkin.
I'm Kathy Ellerbeck!
(triumphant music)
(children murmuring)
(dramatic music)