The Kembleford Dragon Father Brown

Morning, Mrs McCarthy! Are you going somewhere nice?

I'm waiting for someone, actually.

-Our new cleaner.

-Oh, yes?

Let's hope she's better than the last one.

She left the presbytery looking like a pigsty.

Oh, how awful for you.

Did I mention, we've just won an award for our hanging baskets?

You did.

And congratulations - again.

Well, I mustn't dawdle. We have an inspector in.

Toodle-oo.

There you go. Floral Finery Award, 1953.

Most impressive.

Hello, Mr Chatterjee.

I hope my husband has shown you all you need to see?

Yes, indeed.

And if you'd like to put this on your notice board...

Marvellous.

Tuck your shirt in.

TRAIN WHISTLE

Here comes your train. The Kembleford Dragon.

Such a nice man, Mr Chatterjee.

So very rigorous.

Hello...

Mrs McCarthy.

No. My name's Pandora.

Yes, I know that. I am Mrs McCarthy.

So why did you call me Mrs McCarthy?

Because I was...

Never mind.

I'm here to take you to St Mary's.

Just one item of luggage?

That's very kind. Thank you.

GUARD BLOWS HIS WHISTLE

TRAIN CHUGS AWAY

Mr Webb...

Are you all right?

Ben, what is it?

No!

They can't close us down.

Holy Mother!

Oh...

Oh, Father!

Sergeant Goodfellow...

-Are you on the way to the meeting?

-I am indeed.

I was shocked to hear about the closure.

Not as shocked as the stationmaster.

-Hey, how is Mr Webb?

-Not good.

He had a severe heart attack.

He's lucky to be alive.

Honestly, I'm fine. There's no need to make such a fuss.

The doctors told you to conserve your energy. So stop talking.

It's good to see you!

And how are you feeling?

Soldiering on, Mrs M. Soldiering on.

Well, I've put all the chairs out.

But I seem to have put my back out in the process.

Now, we need to put you somewhere with a good view...

Oh, I think I've already got one.

-Hello.

-And what time do you call this?

I don't know. I haven't got a watch.

Obviously.

Now that you are here,

your job is to serve the refreshments.

The what?

A cup of tea!

Oh, thank you very much. Two sugars.

Good evening. Am I in the right place?

That is debatable.

Mrs Webb, I am very sorry,

but British Railways will ensure there is alternative transport.

And will they find me an alternative husband?

As mine's over there in a wheelchair.

Oh, Mrs Webb, let me get you a nice cup of tea.

What goes around, comes round...

-Father Brown.

-Mr Chatterjee.

-Though I already know you by reputation.

-Really?

Weren't you involved in a campaign to build a tunnel

under the tracks for migrating toads?

I like to help all God's creatures.

And I like to ensure they get value for money.

Our report found that this part of the railway

has been losing money for 20 years.

-MAN:

-Shame!

-WOMAN:

-According to you!

The facts are here.

Father Brown?

Has there been a report into the non-monetary benefits

of the railway?

What do you mean?

Well, I mean such as being able to take

an inspirational trip to the seaside.

Or visit a friend in hospital.

Or to find some decent nightlife.

No, because these things are priceless,

so we must provide alternative transport.

Let me introduce someone...

EVERYONE GROANS

My name is Buddy Arnold.

But you probably knew that already.

And for the past ten years,

I've been the owner of Arnold's Bus Company.

"As easy as ABC."

Those of you in the Women's Institute

will remember our awayday to Wordsworth's cottage.

All too well...

While the boys in blue will have many happy memories

of a magic weekend in Mablethorpe.

Don't worry, Sergeant. Your secret's safe with me!

I don't know what he's talking about.

Now, I was sad to hear about the closing of the railway station.

But on the bright side,

my fleet of charabancs will visit all the places

the train used to go to, but...

..at double the speed and for half the price.

Mrs Webb, could you wait till the end

if there is something you disagree with?

I disagree with every word!

You're not sad to hear of our closure.

You danced a little jig, probably causing a landslide.

That's nice...

Yes, you will bring down your prices.

Until you own the monopoly and you'll put them back up again.

Exactly.

It's not about pounds, shillings and pence.

The railway is our life.

Well, you look like you're about ready to retire, anyway.

Oh!

I'm sorry, Sergeant.

It was most ill-mannered.

But Ben and I have spent years at the station.

We try to make it seem homely.

Did you know I won an award for my hanging baskets?

Mrs McCarthy may have mentioned it.

The trophy's at the station, I'm afraid.

I took it in to show the Inspector.

Fat lot of good that did.

How is Mr Webb?

I'm fine.

Just fed up with folk looking at me as if I'm about to snuff it.

Ben, it's good to see you up.

Tuck your shirt in.

You'll be pleased to hear we've formed a committee

called Save Our Station.

SOS. I like it.

And we're planning a fete, to raise money for the campaign.

Oh, that's a most wonderful idea!

Here, I've got something in my shed I want to show you.

I've been working on this for...22 years.

It's...extraordinary.

You've got the whole of Kembleford station, the signal box...

It's not finished yet.

So it seems a bit cruel they're closing the station

-before I've even finished my model.

-Darling...

We'll do whatever we can. And there's always this little fete.

Yeah.

I know where we can hold it.

It's fourpence for the petit-four.

But remember, a shilling for the custard tartlets.

Right.

-Did you get that?

-What?

The custard tartlets...

Oh, yes, please, I haven't had any breakfast.

No, you are not here to eat. You're here to help.

And as you put no effort into cleaning the church,

that is the least you could do.

SHE SIGHS HEAVILY

Don't you think that was a teensy bit harsh?

No, I don't think it was a teensy bit harsh.

She needs to know if she's not coming up to my standards.

No-one comes up to your standards.

Hello, ladies.

Oh, Mr Webb!

Can I interest you in a sticky bun?

I'd love a bit of that, but I don't think my heart would take it.

There you are! I've been worried sick.

I just popped to the bathroom to check my hair wasn't too ridiculous.

Really? Well, you might want to check it again.

Mrs Webb, an award-winning strawberry scone,

only sixpence.

I mustn't. I'm piling on the pounds at the moment and...

I'm catching the 11:55!

What's he doing here?

I'll be glad to see the back of this place.

Would that be a pineapple upside-down cake?

Yes, that would be.

But you have to pay, just like anyone else.

HORN HONKS

Oh, look who it is...

Hello, folks!

Sorry I'm late.

Who wants a ride in the countryside?

Free coach trips

to Evesham, Amblesham and Tawny Lake.

Have you got permission to hand out flyers?

I just wanted to show I don't bear a grudge.

How's Mr Webb?

It was sad to see him looking so old and frail the other day.

Mr Arnold, it's time your charabanc left the station.

If you say so.

Wretched man.

Well, I must go and get Ben.

He was going to do a speech, but I'm not sure he's well enough.

Is there anyone else we could ask?

Imagine, if you will,

a world without railways.

It would be a world of absolute silence.

DOG BARKS

A world in which we would still travel...

..but no longer together.

Each one of us apart...

..in their own metallic shell.

Erm, Father Brown...

-I think you should stop talking.

-What?

At least until we find out where the blood is coming from.

Excuse me, please.

SHE GASPS

Gustum et locutionem tactum

gressum deliquisti.

Padre, have you quite finished?

I have commended his soul to God.

Now I leave you his mortal remains.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Well, it looks like we have rather a lot of people to talk to...

No...

This can't be happening.

I... Mrs Webb, I know it's distressing, but...

..when did you last see your husband?

Just over an hour ago, at the fete.

He went to use the facilities, er...

to tidy his hair.

Erm...

I went to look for him...

..but he wasn't there.

Have you any idea how he came to be inside a trunk?

Of course not!

SHE SNIFFLES

Erm...

Trunks are left in the luggage repository by the entrance.

Erm...

Then the porter puts them on a train.

Did it have a label on it?

Sadly, not.

So I have to ask...

..did your husband have any enemies?

Well, I didn't like the man.

But I'm hardly going to batter his brains out.

Though you have been business rivals for some years.

Rivals? Not really. I mean...

..everyone knows the train's had its day.

But who can resist a 95-horsepower engine?

Oh, speaking of which, shall we sort out your next trip to Skegness?

Not just now, Buddy.

When did you last see Mr Webb?

Er, this morning, as I drove my charabanc into the car park.

Oh, yes?

He was having an argument with that Indian fella.

You know, the one who's closing the railway.

Then I bent down to pick up me pamphlets

and, when I looked up, they'd disappeared.

So your name is Deepak Chatterjee?

It is indeed.

It's an unusual name for someone working for BRITISH Railways.

I used to work for the India Railway Company

and had responsibility for 70,000 miles of track.

It is unusual to be in England, where everything is so much...

..smaller.

When did you last see Ben Webb?

At the public meeting last week.

You didn't see him this morning?

I did not.

Are you sure?

Positive.

You've been in Kembleford for a while now.

Are you planning to stay here permanently?

I have only been here for the consultation.

I was due to return to London on the 11:55.

So where, exactly...

..is your luggage?

I cannot believe he's dead.

Only last week, I sent him a "get well soon" card.

It's as if the Grim Reaper didn't manage the first time.

OK, folks, you're all free to go.

-Oh, about time.

-And where are you off to?

I'm off to save the railway.

Sergeant Goodfellow, I'm keen to help in any way I can.

That won't be necessary, Father.

We already have our prime suspect.

Deepak Chatterjee.

Turns out it was his trunk.

We found his clothes in a bin round the corner.

-Has he confessed?

-Not yet.

And there's no sign of the murder weapon.

We've got the railway police out looking for it.

But there is one positive.

-Yes?

-With Mr Chatterjee on trial for murder,

that'll slow down their plans to close the station.

Well, that's good news, then.

Every cloud...

Yes. But what if our friends in the police

have found themselves a convenient scapegoat?

An outsider.

Someone who we'd all rather see the back of.

Are you saying you think he's innocent?

Ben Webb was killed in a brutal attack.

Mr Chatterjee seems the gentlest of men.

Even at the public meeting, with all the villagers braying at him,

he was like Daniel in the lion's den.

Father Brown...

Mrs Webb...

..you have my sincerest condolences.

That's very kind.

I was wondering...

..if I could talk to you about the funeral.

Of course.

I have an unusual request.

Well, I've started a petition.

"Hands off our railway."

Why are you painting bonsai trees?

Mrs Webb is planning her husband's funeral.

She doesn't want flowers.

She wants us to complete his railway.

Hm... There's a jolly way to spend a day.

And I was supposed to be organising a spring clean.

But, of course, Pandora failed to appear.

Probably still sulking.

Well, I have been investigating.

I went to see Buddy Arnold, to see if he'd sign my petition.

What on earth for? He runs the replacement bus company.

Well, I wanted to know about his movements.

So I went to the bus station - no sign of him there.

Then I went to his house.

Oh, that huge monstrosity.

There was a removals van outside,

loading up his furniture.

I'm intrigued.

PHONE RINGS IN NEXT ROOM

You think he was planning to leave town?

As fast as his fat little legs will carry him.

But why would he kill Mr Webb?

Oh, yes, yes, I know, he was keen to do him out of a job,

but...murder.

I mean, that is ridiculous.

That was Sergeant Goodfellow.

They've charged Deepak Chatterjee.

And he wants to see a priest.

Ah, Padre!

Come to give spiritual guidance to our resident murderer?

How can you be sure Deepak Chatterjee was the killer?

It is, quite literally, an open-and-shut case.

There were three sets of fingerprints found on the trunk

belonging to Goodfellow, the porter...

..and Deepak Chatterjee.

I do hope your men were careful to avoid contamination

and were wearing gloves.

Of course they were!

And so, I imagine, was the killer.

BELL RINGS

Father Brown!

Mr Chatterjee.

I had no idea you were a Catholic.

I'm a Hindu, but many paths lead to the same God.

However, I wanted to ask for your help.

With what?

To get out of here alive.

Your reputation precedes you.

Mr Chatterjee...

..did you kill Ben Webb?

I did not.

At the public meeting, I heard you say,

"What goes around, comes around."

I did say it.

Because I did not like this man.

Ben Webb was a notorious adulterer,

unworthy of the wonderful woman he was married to.

How do you know?

It was the talk of all the Inspectors.

He had an office at the railway station

where he would seduce young women.

Some of my colleagues used to call him Spider Webb.

You had your disagreements, though. He was a thorn in your side.

Not so much that I would kill him!

But, yes, on the day he died, I went to see him.

I ordered him to call off his campaign,

otherwise I would tell the whole world what sort of a man he was.

Did you tell this to the police?

I pretended I hadn't seen him for days.

I knew it would look bad.

That the police would want to make me a scapegoat.

Mr Chatterjee, by not telling the truth,

I fear that you have made things a thousand times worse.

Thank you for the service, Father.

You did my husband proud.

You're welcome.

And if you ever need to talk...

Hello, Mrs Webb. Can I offer you a cup of tea,

-or something stronger?

-Not right now, thank you.

-How about a prawn vol-au-vent?

-I'd rather not.

-Well, you really ought to eat something.

-I'm well aware!

I've managed this far in life.

Though goodness knows why...

Mrs Webb...

May I have another look at Ben's model railway?

It's been quite therapeutic putting it together...

..in memory of Ben.

Such wonderful detail.

Yeah.

Even the arrivals board.

Yeah.

And talking of arrivals,

is there something you want to tell me?

You knew?

I've seen you a few times cradling your stomach.

I only found out yesterday.

I should have guessed, but...

..I thought I was going through... the change.

And is it a happy event?

I don't know.

Ben and I tried for so long.

But now...

..this child will never know its own father.

Mrs Webb, your child will grow up surrounded by friends.

We will all rally around.

Of course.

I am blessed.

Though...it's a mixed blessing.

And your marriage to Ben...

Yes?

..was it a happy one?

Most of the time.

It's fairly well known that Ben had a roving eye.

But at the end of the day...

..he always came home to me.

Well, if any man did that to me,

I'd be shoving his corpse into a suitcase.

But why wait 22 years?

By all accounts, Ben Webb spent a lifetime philandering.

In my experience,

the only way to keep most men from straying

is to lock them up.

How are you getting on with young Pandora?

Getting on?

I'm about to let her go.

Ah...

She hasn't shown up all week.

And quite frankly, the place is a lot cleaner without her.

When did you see her last?

Oh, let me see, it would have been...

..the day Ben was murdered.

Heavens above!

I've just remembered something.

When Ben had his heart attack, I was walking past with Pandora.

Well, maybe it wasn't the notice that upset him.

Maybe it was seeing her.

So...

..a middle-aged lech has a turn when a certain girl walks past him.

Then, a week later, he's been beaten to death and she's disappeared.

Coincidence?

Do you have Pandora's address in Kembleford?

KNOCKING

Hello, who is it?

What do you want?

It's Father Brown, Miss Tibby.

And this is my young friend Bunty.

Hello!

Thank goodness.

I saw a shape in the window.

I thought it was death.

Not today, hopefully.

We're looking for our friend, who may have been staying with you.

Pandora Pott.

Pandora? Oh, yes, she was here.

But she disappeared over a week ago.

No explanation.

No note.

No rent.

Any idea where she may have gone to?

No, I don't know.

Perhaps she ran off with her fancy man.

Fancy man?

Oh, she was always going on about him.

He's some great transport mogul.

They were going to get married and...

..she was going to be a millionaire.

Any idea of the name of this this transport mogul?

No.

I thought she was exaggerating.

But she did get quite weepy when she talked about him.

She wondered if he was stringing her along.

So last Saturday morning, she went off to have a word with him.

Did she say what happened?

I never saw her again.

She was in a very strange mood that morning.

Miss Tibby...

Oh, yes.

Oh, if you do see her...

..tell her I miss her.

So a troubled Pandora came here to confront her lover.

Who may well be Ben Webb.

Are you sure it's safe to snoop?

Well, it's a public holiday,

so we should be able to peruse unperturbed.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Would you like to have a go?

Oh, yes, please.

This may be the room where Mr Webb would entertain young ladies.

I'm not sure I want to look.

Well done!

HE SNIFFS

Interesting bouquet?

Disinfectant.

Why place a bin here?

Shouldn't it be by the desk?

People do move things, you know?

This belonged to Pandora.

Yes. She never took it off.

Sort of like a comfort blanket.

Except that she did.

And she was never seen again.

Father...

Can you smell smoke?

Well, we can't go that way.

Er, any good at screaming?

Hel...

SHE COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS

Evidently not.

Can you smell something, Sergeant?

FATHER BROWN OVER TANOY: Attention! Attention!

Kembleford Station is on fire!

Two people are trapped in the station building.

Help!

That man gets everywhere!

-Maybe we could move the desk.

-Stand clear!

Hallelujah.

Ah, hallelujah.

That was quick!

Thank you, Sergeant.

We had reports of three people

acting suspiciously on railway property.

Three people?

You two, and an arsonist, who's just been apprehended.

And yet, you still think Deepak Chatterjee is the killer.

What makes you think he's innocent?

Well, Mr Chatterjee seemed like the most mild-mannered of men.

And that was a frenzied, passionate assault.

We've just had the postmortem.

Turns out he didn't die from a bang to the head.

-Ben Webb was actually killed by...

-Yes?

Padre, I think you should know you are not in Sunday school.

We do not always forgive us our trespassers.

Oooh, Inspector, you should be on the stage!

And you should be...

..elsewhere!

I've half a mind to arrest you.

But I'm otherwise engaged with an arsonist.

And, erm...

..who is the arsonist?

I'm sorry.

I didn't think anyone'd be there.

-It's a Bank Holiday.

-Exactly.

A perfect day to potter about or go to the gee-gees.

Not to set fire to public amenities.

The thing is...

..I haven't got any money.

What?

My bus company...

..it's a bust company.

And the bailiffs have paid me a visit.

Taken every stick of furniture.

But I thought you were richer than Rockefeller.

Hm!

That is the impression I like to give.

So...why did you set fire to the railway station?

It's this business of the rail replacement bus service.

It was my one chance to get some business.

But now, with Mr Chatterjee behind bars, it'll drag on and on.

But I thought...

..if I could get rid of the station building,

they might need my services somewhat sooner.

Dear, oh, dear...

I had nothing to do with the other business. And if you could...

..turn a blind eye,

I won't charge a penny for your next excursion.

Oh, Buddy...

Not even a fortnight in Frinton would get you out of this one.

So we don't even know how he died?

Being hit on the head was the first blow.

I still can't believe it was Pandora.

I mean, she could hardly lift a broom,

never mind a blunt instrument.

What if it was the other way around?

We know that Pandora was obsessed with Ben Webb.

She went to see him on the day that he died.

What if he had harmed her, abducted her, or worse?

He had the key to every last engine shed and signal box.

If he did do anything to her,

I'll wager it was on British Railways property.

Mrs McCarthy, you are a saint and an angel.

Now...

..if only we had a scale model.

SHE KNOCKS

We'll just have to come back later.

Or we could sneak around the back.

Mrs Webb is a grieving widow.

We can't just go noseying around.

We could have a quick look.

But that would be a terrible thing to do.

Well, she definitely isn't in the station.

So what's this?

A 19th century railway shed.

About half a mile away.

Oh...

-Well, that's worth exploring.

-I agree.

You do realise, that if we discover the truth

and Mr Chatterjee is innocent...

..he's going to close all this down.

Sometimes the path of truth is the most difficult path.

So we should get going, then.

What is it now?

The trophy...

..Mrs Webb won for her hanging baskets.

Oh, yes, such a ridiculous fuss.

Just because she prunes the foliage and keeps everything tidy.

Yes.

She does.

We should go. It's about to get dark.

Of course.

I'll follow on later.

What?

Best not to argue.

FAINT JINGLY MUSIC

SHE HUMS SOFTLY

Father Brown!

I'm sorry I've not come in to work this week.

No.

But you have an awfully good excuse.

I've had six months of having to hide it.

All summer long, I've had to keep my coat on.

May I ask who the father is?

Ben Webb.

Ah...

When did you meet him?

It were last year, when I came here on a church outing with my auntie.

He was funny and kind...

..and he told me I was special.

And my auntie always said, "Never kiss a man,

"because you'll end up in the family way."

So I made sure.

When we did what we did...

..we never, ever kissed.

Does your aunt know your condition?

Oh, no! I... I couldn't ever tell her.

But then I saw an advert in the church magazine.

It said they needed a cleaner at St Mary's.

So here I am.

Hello, dear. I've got you some strawberries.

You're eating for two now, so...

-Father Brown.

-Mrs Webb.

Why don't you take the weight off your feet?

And the excess weight you've been carrying.

Do your eyes never get tired of staring into people's souls?

It must have been a great sadness that you and Ben

were never blessed with children.

You have no idea.

And yet, you have persuaded this young woman

to hand over the child she is carrying

and pass it off as your own.

What did you promise in return?

Perhaps I should telephone Inspector Mallory.

He'll be very keen to know that we have found our missing person.

All right!

Pandora has agreed to give me her baby.

And in return...

..I won't tell the police...

..that she murdered my husband.

I didn't mean to.

It was the day of the fete.

And I knew I couldn't wait any longer.

I went to see him,

to tell him what he'd done,

to find out what he was going to do about it.

I want a word with you.

He said we should go to his office.

I took off my coat.

He was awful.

He shouted at me.

Well, I don't want it.

I never wanted one with my wife.

Why would I want to have your sprog?

-What am I going to do?

-I don't know.

Have a gin bath.

Throw it on the railway line for all I care!

And as he went to walk away,

I picked up the trophy from the desk

and banged him on the head.

I didn't mean to, but...

Was this the trophy?

Yes.

It's intriguing.

Last week, you said that it was still in the station.

But when Ben was killed, the police searched everywhere for a weapon.

Surely they would have removed this for examination.

Unless someone had already done so.

I took it away.

Because there's no need to tell anyone.

Pandora didn't mean to do it.

And now, by giving me her illegitimate baby,

at least some good will come from it.

I won't tell the police.

Because Pandora Pott did not kill Ben Webb.

-I believe he was drowned.

-What?

-What?

On the day of the fete, you went looking for your husband.

Well, I must go and get Ben.

I assume you heard his angry words to Pandora.

I never wanted one with my wife.

Why would I want to have your sprog?

I cannot imagine the hurt of learning that,

all those years you were longing for a baby,

he was praying for the exact opposite.

And then...

..you had an opportunity.

You walked into a scene of chaos.

But, then, you are used to clearing up other people's messes.

I imagine that you told Pandora to go on ahead...

Go to my house.

..and all would be well

and that you had some business to attend to.

And then you committed murder.

SHE SCOFFS

There was a wastepaper bin in the office,

about the size of a human head.

And you were carrying a watering can...

..having just topped up your hanging baskets.

It was all done in a moment.

I was going to travel with him on the train and...

..dump his body in Tawny Lake.

And then I would pretend that he'd run off and left me.

And no-one would ever find out what really happened to him.

But someone did find out.

And an innocent man will hang.

That was never my plan.

Mr Chatterjee's trunk was lying there and...

..it was just the right size.

Yes.

That was my first suspicion.

Ben was incurably scruffy.

But when he tumbled from the trunk, he was immaculate.

Even in death, you couldn't resist...

..tucking his shirt in.

Mr Chatterjee is never going to hang.

There's not enough evidence.

I am going away with Pandora.

And then she can give birth,

somewhere nice, by the seaside.

And then I'll...

..come home with the baby.

After all these years...

..I'm finally having a baby.

No! I'm not going to let you.

What?

You made me believe I was a murderer.

-You lied to me.

-A little white lie.

I'm going to keep this baby.

And what kind of life is it going to have?

The unwanted runt of an unmarried mother.

But if I look after him...

..he will be loved and cherished and...

I'm having my baby!

I'm having...my baby.

Don't be ridiculous!

I think what Pandora is trying to say

is that she is having this baby now.

-I can feel it coming!

-You can't! It's too soon.

This young woman has no choice.

You have two.

Either you run away, where no-one will ever find you,

or, for the sake of the child and your immortal soul...

-Yes?

-..go and find an ambulance.

PANDORA CRIES OUT

Do you think you'll be able to walk?

No!

Any minute now, I'm going to have to swim!

I seem to remember something about towels...

-Don't leave me!

-No. Of course not.

Keep calm and all will be all right.

SHE GROANS

What are we going to do?

SHE CRIES OUT

-What you need to do is push.

-I can't!

What does it say in the Bible about the camel and the eye of the needle?

Yes, it also said faith can move mountains.

SHE CRIES OUT

BABY WAILS

God created the world.

And you have performed a similar miracle.

Pandora...

..it's a boy.

Oh, oh...

Oh, he's lovely.

He's so, so lovely.

The ambulance is here.

And the police.

I don't think you're ever going to see me again, but please...

..could you send me a photograph?

Right, well, I have 225 names.

But I'm getting a bit tempted to invent a few.

I think you should resist that temptation.

I still can't believe they're really going to close it.

I mean, they might as well hang a condemned sign over the village.

Oh, don't say that, Mrs M. We've got to pull through together and...

But... Oh!

Hello!

Hello!

Oh...!

Thank you, Father!

And thank you for finding Pandora and bringing her home to me.

You're welcome.

Have you been in touch with your aunt yet?

She doesn't want to see me.

Says I've brought shame on the family.

But it doesn't matter. I've got Miss Tibby to look after me.

If you'll forgive my saying,

Miss Tibby is not exactly in the first bloom of youth.

Balderdash! I feel 70 years younger.

And I have good reason for looking after this one.

Oh, what's that?

Many years ago...

..I had a child of my own.

But I didn't have a husband.

So the poor baby was taken away from me.

Well, this little boy will be looked after and loved

and no-one will look down on him.

Well said!

Good morning!

Oh, Mr Chatterjee.

I came to thank you, Father Brown.

If it wasn't for you, I would be sitting in a condemned cell.

Well, since we helped to get your neck out of the noose,

would you take a look at our petition?

No need for this.

Oh?

The closure was only going to happen while there was an alternative.

But now that Mr Arnold is behind bars...

Are you saying that...?

Yes, Mrs McCarthy.

It's full steam ahead!

Oh...!

Chooo-chooo!

THEY ALL CHUCKLE