Previously on Indian Summers... ALICE: Don't come after us.

DOUGIE: I couldn't just leave him there.

CYNTHIA: What matters is what the world sees, and that young woman will do very nicely.

SITA: I am yours now, and you are mine.

How long have you been in the service, Dalal?

Almost four years, sir.

High hopes?

Yes, sir.

Rakshas!

(gunshot) Help!

The man who tried to shoot you, he was calling you "devil."

Why would he do that?

Indian Summers, tonight on Masterpiece.

♪ ♪ (birds chirping) ♪ ♪ Sign here, please.

(speaking Hindi) (knocking) Ralph?

What is it, Bhupi?

A gift from your brother!

Whoever for?

For you, Memsahib!

(speaking Hindi) He went out.

First thing.

Give him a couple more days.

I won't beg.

RONNIE: "To the Secretary of State for India, Westminster.

"My dear Samuel.

"As you may have heard, "this year's summer administration got off to a bumpy start."

One way of putting it.

"The guilty man has been detained, "and I am happy to report "local morale here in Simla "is as undaunted as ever.

"Our present duty is three-fold.

"To root out "any and all accomplices.

"Second: constant vigilance "against any further acts of terrorism.

"A sunset curfew on all natives, "exempting those in private service.

Redouble the guard in and around the British quarter."

Left, right, left!

Well, I don't feel very safe, do you?

Mm.

Should we offer them some nimboo pani before they blow something up?

RONNIE: "Finally, renew our vigor in stifling the nationalist mob wherever it presents itself."

No?

Bit more clout.

Right.

As in?

No more compromise.

Meet fire with fire until Mr. Gandhi and the rest of Congress are subdued.

Too strong?

Because I rely on you to rein me in if I'm being too tiresome.

Not at all.

Fire with fire, just what they need.

Well, if you're happy, have it wired over to the Viceroy, would you?

RONNIE: Very good, old love.

(to himself): Who is that man?

Now remember, not a word to Daddy about all this.

You swear to me?

I swear, Ma.

"His poor nerves."

You already told me a thousand times.

Anything about Aafrin in it?

No, it's fine.

Thank God.

All right, good, let's go.

Let's go.

Here you go, Daddy.

Oh, at long last.

And where is your mami?

She went out.

And Aafrin?

Aafrin!

I told you.

He had to go out of station for a few days.

But how can he do that?

His slippers are here.

Would he not be more comfortable at the Ripon, with his own people?

(breathing uneasily, murmuring) No!

No, please!

(plays note) The Parsi.

Mr. Dalal.

Is he all right?

Oh, I haven't heard.

Why do you ask?

I wrote to the surgeon to inquire.

Obviously, I'm just wasting everyone's time.

(plays random notes on piano) Miss Alice.

Kanta.

Fork.

Kanta.

Very good, miss.

Do you really play?

No-- God, no.

I never had the time.

You?

No.

No, these things are strictly ornament.

What's the point of it?

No point.

It's just your brother being absurdly extravagant.

Let's go out.

We kind of promised that we wouldn't.

Oh, rubbish.

There are no more terrorists hiding in hedges.

It's the gymkhana this afternoon.

Everyone's going to be there, so I...

The show must go on.

Next!

SARAH: Of course we know the way!

Coo-ee!

I hope we're not intruding!

You got my visiting card?

Of course.

What fun.

IAN: It's even better than you said in your letters.

ARMITAGE: Well, I'm not one to brag.

And this land is all yours?

No, no.

Another fellow owns this stretch.

Was he at the club?

Good God, I should hope not, no.

He's a local chap, but... Local?

Native.

Really?

They can do that?

ARMITAGE: Oh, they do as they please nowadays.

Not far now, just over the hill.

(breathing fitfully) DOCTOR: We put him up here, where we can keep an eye on him.

I don't think he's likely to run off with your spoons.

Shh!

But I thought he was improving.

Yes, but I'm afraid there are signs of bacterial infection, probably from scraps of his undershirt.

His sudreh.

It's made of sacred thread.

Indeed.

Well, it's embedded in the wound.

Of course, if his clothes hadn't been so filthy... Filthy?

♪ ♪ Please.

How is he?

Tell her.

I don't know her.

(speaking Hindi) Of course, it's of the greatest interest to our readers at the Delhi Herald.

A shooting in broad daylight, under the Viceroy's nose.

It was evening.

The Viceroy is not here at present.

He has been detained in London.

Really?

May one ask why?

Look, I'm overdue at the Council of State, I'm afraid.

Shall we say 3:00?

The man who tried to shoot you.

Did you know him?

No.

Do they know his name?

Not yet.

I gather he's refusing to speak.

Really?

Might I have a word with the District Superintendent?

You hardly need my permission.

Still.

I wish to make the most of my visit.

Mr. Ralph, sir.

I meant to ask... How did you hear about this whole business?

Oh, I had a note from one of your own people.

A Mr. Ronnie Keane?

More tea.

Enjoy your afternoon, Mr. Khan.

Who put you up to this?

Nobody put me up to this.

Need I remind you who fished you out of that godforsaken syphilitic hole in the mofussil.

I can just as well shove you back if you work against me.

I'm not!

I'm not working against... Christ, Ralph, some chap from the Delhi Tribune...

The Herald.

Herald, quite right.

He sent me a telegram asking was it true, such and such a date, a man was charged with the attempted shooting of a member of the Indian Civil Service.

So you asked him up?

Of course I did.

I thought to myself, "We need to look lively "or they'll turn this terrorist into another Baghat Bloody Singh."

They'll be writing bloody songs about him next.

Sahib.

Ek minute, Bhupi.

Besides.

An interview with the Herald?

It's your chance to shine, ain't it?

Don't be charming.

Ah, that's better.

You know, old love, for a moment there, I wasn't quite sure who I was talking to.

Forgive me.

Anyway, we've nothing to fear from Mr. Khan.

His uncle's master of hounds with the Delhi Royal Hunt.

Well, that is reassuring.

Oh!

What's this?

Hospital fees for your stricken Parsi.

Well, can't we farm it out to the Board of Revenue?

I'll have a word.

Lucky for you, him bumping into that bullet.

Yes.

Not so lucky for him.

(laughing) As I said, the man won't speak.

But if he won't speak, how do you know the shot at Mr. Whelan was politically motivated?

Ah.

Well, when we apprehended him, he was wearing this.

A cap?

A Gandhi cap.

Prohibited under the emergency laws.

Of course... Mr. Rowntree, sir, these caps have been worn for centuries for no other purpose than to keep the sun off our heads.

Like your topi.

Only less practical.

Forgive me.

What is it?

Inside, sahib.

The stitching.

So there is.

What is it?

An identity card.

Full marks, Mr. Singh.

SINGH: His name?

ROWNTREE: Chandru Mohan.

(kids chatting happily) Adam?

Where is Adam?

Not again.

Come on, children, come!

Where are we going, auntie?

To find him, of course!

Well, if that won't break them, I suppose nothing will.

(laughs) I'm afraid I helped myself.

Ah, Mr. Mathers.

You feeling brighter?

Oh, much.

But obviously, I'm in... (groans) no state to travel.

I should hope not.

Plenty of rest, that's the ticket.

How's that sister of yours?

Active?

Madeleine is not the problem.

He's losing interest.

Ah.

I feared as much.

ROWNTREE: News, as promised.

A party of officers from Fort St. George is setting out to discover what we can of the prisoner's background.

He's from a village in the Madras Presidency.

We believe his name is Chandru Mohan.

And?

From Miss Cynthia at the Club.

Sir?

What can I do?

This one might be out of your league, old friend.

RALPH: Let him wait.

Well, what do you think?

Oh.

(flies buzzing) Splendid.

It's a sight for sore eyes, eh?

(chuckling) The other workers.

Where are they?

Oh, Tiffin, I expect.

Aye.

Of course, we'll be able to keep more of an eye on them now I've got reinforcements.

You like that, don't you, eh?

They like a bit of discipline.

(groans in protest) Sir, who's that man?

ARMITAGE: What does he want now?

Sir?

Our neighbor.

The native?

That's him?

Aye.

You tell him from me, next time I catch him wandering on my land, I'll have him skinned.

(Ian clears his throat) Hello.

(clears throat) Look here, this is not a public highway.

I insist that you... make an appointment.

Ramu Sood.

Pleased to make your acquaintance.

Yes, I...

I know who you are.

Hand this letter over to your uncle, please.

Good day, sir.

(clicks tongue) (tuning piano) My old man tuned pianos, organs in every church and hall in the whole of... SARAH: West Riding.

Yes, I'm sure they don't want to hear.

Again, please.

You really don't need to help.

I expect it's all quite daunting, taking on the running of a household this size.

I don't expect I'll be doing any such thing.

Will you be taking over the accounts?

What I tend to do, I buy in bulk, so you're not caught short if a visitor happens to pop in.

I expect Miss Whelan will have her own ideas.

Of course he thinks every meal is put on his plate by order of a higher power.

Why don't you let Alice play us something?

As I say, I really don't play.

Of course you don't.

And who's this?

Family portrait.

So that must be... Ralphie.

(women laugh) So it is!

No pictures of your late husband?

I expect she left them at home.

Much healthier, don't you think, to leave it all behind?

Well, honestly, I'm no expert.

Who's this?

Shepherdess.

It's a Staffordshire.

Please take it.

Oh no, I couldn't.

Here, I'll wrap it up for you.

No, no, I couldn't.

Douglas!

There, it's done.

It's a gift.

Well.

I don't know what to say.

DOUGIE: There's been a small emergency at the school.

One of the children has gone missing.

I'm so sorry.

Stay!

You will stay.

A day or two with your family won't kill you.

Excuse me.

I need some air.

Sorry, ma'am.

Mahl Road is not possible.

Sahib-ji say no ladies are allowed to leave the house.

I just want to go for half an hour.

If memsahib wishes, you can go up and down the lane?

Memsahib does not wish to go up and down the lane.

(speaking Hindi) Please, we go.

Now.

Yes, please, this way.

Adam!

Adam!

Adam!

Adam!

Leena, auntie!

Leena, auntie!

Dougie?

You saw him?

No, auntie.

He cannot come.

Doesn't matter.

Children, come!

Ruth, you will please take them home.

We can't have you all wandering off during curfew.

What is wrong with their faces?

Cherries, Auntie.

Cherries.

Go on, go home.

Adam!

Heaven!

What are these?

What do they call them?

Roller skates?

And people actually go about like this?

Who knows?

(gasps) Piccadilly Circus.

Auntie May promised to take me before the crossing.

We spent so long in the ticket office, there was no time at the end.

What are you writing?

Sermon.

Oh.

What's it on this time?

Duty.

To God, I suppose?

Or do wives get a look in?

It's one and the same thing.

Oh.

He's willing to share you, is he?

Yes.

And what if I can't?

What if I want you to myself?

Half past 3:00.

We could go over, if you like.

(clock bells chiming) 30 minutes I have been waiting.

Hm.

(chatting) (baby crying) Sorry.

I'm sick and tired of living in this filthy place.

We are good, clean people.

Yeah, good, clean people who happen to live in a cowshed.

DARIUS: I know it's not easy for any one of us, this shifting quarters.

In American parlance, it would mean something quite different.

It would refer to the dispensation of a small silver coin.

I was given one once by a gentleman who lived in Minneapolis.

Baapi, what on earth are you talking about?

Ah, Santosh!

Chess!

ALICE: I'm so sorry, I wasn't sure of your address.

I came empty-handed.

So much the better.

"Our hands are empty, but our hearts are full," isn't that so?

Yes.

I don't know, I...

Tea?

Sooni?

No, absolutely not, I was just... Stuff and nonsense!

We just prepared.

Shamshad, cup, saucer.

It's really not necessary.

And get the doily for the tray.

The what?

It's in the drawer in the guest room.

We don't have a guest room.

Please, sit.

Sit.

So sorry for the chaos, but we are having a spring clean.

This is my wife, Roshana, my daughter, Sooni, and...

Yes, we met.

So briefly.

Yes.

I only wanted to know if there's anything I can do.

I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

Come.

(Darius crying) He didn't know.

No.

Daddy has a weak heart.

(crying) How stupid of me.

♪ ♪ Please.

We're in a bit of a hole.

What on earth are we going to do?

(grunting) ♪ ♪ (birds calling) Sooni.

We were friends once.

No.

Not anymore.

You want to wreck your life?

Shame your family?

Go ahead.

But don't hurt my brother.

I thought you were always standing up for freedom.

So?

What is that to you?

Gandhiji says we are one Bharat.

So why can't I love as I choose?

No, that's not... That's completely different.

Really?

Nobody was ever good enough for Aafrin bhai.

I have to go.

Sooni, please.

Just give him this.

CYNTHIA: I ever tell you Reggie had a fancy to grow an orchard?

Oh, he was quite the farmer.

He had the seeds sent over from a cousin in Derby.

He planted six Allington apple trees all in a line.

He used to stand admiring them from the road to Mashobra.

They choked up one harvest and they all died, and I thought, "Apple brandy!"

Which I keep all bottled up and on the shelf, bit like my Ralph.

Cheers.

Mmm.

It tastes of England.

Mmm, that's right.

England.

Drowned in sugar.

(winces) I hear he's not talking.

No.

They have his name.

I wish you'd come to me sooner.

You could have saved yourself a lot of fuss and unpleasantness.

Let's put a stop to this.

I'll get Kaiser onto it.

♪ ♪ Play something.

I don't play.

I'm sorry.

Of course you do, come on.

♪ Drink to me only with thine eyes ♪ ♪ And I will... ♪ Something something.

(laughs) You played and I sang.

And Father, he sat in that chair and he gave us watered-down wine, not that we wanted it.

Al, surely you... Maybe I don't remember the same things you do.

I'm sorry, I can't play.

I've no use for it.

Get lessons, if you like.

I don't want lessons.

Why didn't you just ask me first?

Why do you have to know everything?

Force of habit.

You're unhappy.

I'm not.

I just didn't come all this way to run the kitchen and practice my scales.

What did you come for?

I don't know.

(plays random notes) I gather you had the missionary's wife to tea.

Well, she invited herself.

And you gave her...?

A lemonade?

A figurine.

Yes.

You do know we get constant begging letters from the husband?

His school is chronically underfunded.

We were going to advance him something, but now we can't possibly give him a penny.

Why not?

Because the minute we do, everyone will say it's because you and the wife are friends.

We're not.

Hm.

I saw you, by the way.

In the bazaar.

What?

Nothing.

Forget it.

(bangs keys) Where are you going?

But the local detective, surely he has reported back about the prisoner's circumstances?

Well, according to last year's census, the prisoner hails from the Nadar caste.

Tree climbers, toddy people, that sort of thing.

He has a wife, deceased.

Family unknown.

What ties with Congress?

Or any other illegal movement?

Well, we're continuing to examine that.

In short, none at all.

Most cooperative, Mr. Rowntree.

Adam!

(groans) Stop!

Stop it!

Stop it, give me that!

Oh, my boy.

(crowd cheering) They look like kings.

Kings of what?

(applause) ALICE: Hard luck.

MADELEINE: Yes, bad luck.

ALICE: Congratulations.

SARAH: Alice, how lovely!

We all got quite a fright when you were taken ill this morning.

Who's ill?

Nobody-- I feel much better now.

MADELEINE: Hello, Ralph.

Madeleine.

And Mrs...?

Raworth!

Of course.

Very well rode.

Weren't you dizzy?

Was it that obvious?

Shall we go inside?

Come on, drink for the victor.

Oh, thank you very much.

Jolly bad luck.

You deserved to win.

Didn't he?

Didn't he?

Let's get you home.

Oh, yes, bundle her home again, lock her up.

You might have said something.

You can't go out, it's too late.

The curfew, Daddy.

Let them stop me.

You're falling sick again, aren't you?

I knew it, I knew it, I told you... Woman!

It is my right to suffer with my son whether you like it or not.

(crying) Shamshad!

Daddy?

Remove your mother, she's overcome.

Where's my tie pin?

In the jewelry box.

Where's your sister?

Where is your sister?

I don't know!

(crying) The whole afternoon I have wasted!

I'm so sorry.

The Private Secretary was called away.

Mr. Khan!

KHAN: Perhaps he wasn't a terrorist.

In the absence of political motive, we must look for other motive.

Perhaps the prisoner and Mr. Whelan were acquainted?

Rot.

The prisoner hails from Madras Presidency, where your Private Secretary served as Assistant Magistrate in the summer of 1923.

I found it in an old civil list.

Mr. Khan, do I have to remind you that under Section 4 of the Emergency Press Act, the Government of India may punish... ...any written incitement to violence or indeed any other offense against government?

Oh, we're all familiar with your Section 4, Mr. Keane.

But this time, I will write the truth.

What truth?

Where's he going now?

To speak to the one man who knows.

(sighs) (jaunty piano music playing) I believe it's called the Grizzly Bear.

Really?

They still do that?

They do in this antique land.

Well, they're doing it all wrong.

Hey.

What?

No self-pity.

Cardinal sin, remember?

I remember.

On your feet, sailor.

Excuse me, I'm in the middle of a game.

This is called the Grizzly Bear.

So step, hop, skip, hop, back, and then you go... roar!

(chuckling) This is all for your benefit.

You do see that, don't you?

What's this?

Madeleine was unwell on the way over.

And the ship's doctor happens to be an old friend.

You stole Madeleine's doctor's notes?

Not stole.

Never steal.

Acquired.

Well, the brother's no derby winner, is he?

So I thought it prudent to take a look at her plumbing and whatnot.

And it's all just as it should be.

If you think I'm reading this... Well, if you're going to be like that, I'm not going to tell you the best bit.

What?

She lied.

About her date of birth.

Other side.

(laughing) Well.

I say, good for her.

(laughing) Sahib!

I wish to meet the prisoner.

He may speak to me if he wishes.

He has that right at least.

(speaking Hindi) Chandru Mohan!

Chandru Mohan... (speaking Hindi) (bellowing) (whispering) Hey!

(laughing) (cheering) (shuddering) ROWNTREE: It's a filthy business, sir.

I'm afraid he was a coward to the last.

And he never spoke?

Sergeant?

Yes, sahib.

He said it was... (speaking Hindi) A matter of honor.

Parsi.

Sir?

Mr. Khan.

Where is he?

Has he set off already?

SERGEANT: Yes, sir.

Might I have a moment?

Absolutely, sir.

My desk is entirely at your disposal.

Thank you.

Come on, chop-chop, sergeant.

Leave the man in peace.

♪ ♪ (insects chirping) Aafrin.

My boy.

Problem?

How did we miss this?

(speaking Urdu) Hands off!

That man is our guest.

Mr. Whelan.

They say I need a copy of my leave to enter, but I told the man I never had any such copy.

Ridiculous.

Mr. Khan is trying to get out, not in.

There's no reason to hold him a minute longer.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry.

They've been a bit on edge since the incident.

Well, thank you for your help.

Now look, I meant to say, if you're still after a scoop...

Thank you.

I have my story.

I'm sure you write like a dream, Mr. Khan, but really, a dead man in a cell?

The world's full of them.

Only India.

Still, some terrorist who'd rather take his own life than speak up for the cause?

Hardly heroic, Mr. Khan.

We cannot say what he was.

Or why he tried to kill you, Mr. Whelan.

As to that, perhaps I can help you.

You wish for an interview?

You've been avoiding me all day.

Good God, I'm the last thing anyone needs over their tea and toast, don't you think?

No, I have something, someone, much more interesting in mind.

Please.

Welcome back.

Things will be different from now on.

This man saved my life.

We always look after our own, Mr. Khan.

Are you up to a few questions?

Of course.

You were shot?

You took a bullet that was bound for this Englishman?

This grateful Englishman.

Who?

What was his name?

Chandru Mohan, from down in Madras.

A terrorist.

A member of Congress, inevitably?

(knocking) Cometh the hour.

Here he is.

Do you have it?

I do, sahib.

Found in the lining of his bag.

A certificate of membership of the Congress Movement.

For all their fine talk of peace.

Time and again, these campaigns of civil disobedience always turn to violence in the end.

Hm?

Didn't Gandhi himself talk about the sacrifice of a million lives?

Tell me, what is it you remember?

Ralphie-sah!

Rakshas!

Rakshas!

I only want... ...to do my duty.

Well said.

Well said.

Uncle?

(breathing heavily) That letter.

From the native.

I wonder if I might read it?

He says you owe him money.

"Final notice, one week to repay, seven lakhs of rupees."

What is a... what is a lakh?

100,000 rupees, sir.

This is business.

And tonight, we are closed for business.

(snoring) Sahib.

I had no idea you were a dancer.

No?

Well... You never asked.

Forgive me.

I...

I had this idea that we were... What?

Something.

We are something.

I got caught up in a work matter, but it's... it's all right now.

Well.

Enjoy your bath.

Come here.

Please.

Such pretty manners.

(fire crackling) (groaning) SARAH: My dearest Ellen.

It's been ages since I last wrote.

The new summer season is upon us.

As ever, the whole family is pillar to post.

Do you remember that bit of sleuthing you performed for me last May?

Well, I have made a new acquaintance.

Her name is Alice Whelan.

She's so secretive on the subject of her late husband.

Wouldn't it be fun to find out what she's hiding?

Next time on Masterpiece... LEENA: They're not able to be together, so this is where they hide.

AAFRIN: A pleasure to meet you in such different circumstances.

Wake up, Aafrin!

This is British propaganda!

You are British propaganda!

(jail door closes) Indian Summers, next time on Masterpiece.

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