Tom's Midnight Garden

-Da-da!

-I wish I had one key that opened everything.

-Hello.

Hello.

Doris phoned to say you were coming.

She thinks we've got problems, and I couldn't persuade her otherwise,

so I told her I was having it off with the satellite installer.

Well, as long as you get us a good picture on Channel 5,

I can forgive anything. Hello.

BABY GURGLES Have you been to the house

or are you on your way there?

No fooling you.

I WAS on my way there,

but now I don't know if I really want to see it.

You want to, Tom.

Hmm?

'Tom!'

'Tom?'

-Why do I have to go? Peter and I had plans.

-Peter's very ill.

You don't want to the measles too.

We'll take care of him. It'll be practice for when we have our own.

Oh, the doctor said he wasn't to get out of bed.

Tom, you'll be a visitor. Try to be good.

-We can climb the cathedral tower, Tom.

-Now?

Not while you're in quarantine.

We'll climb it one day. One day soon.

I trust we'll get on well.

Yes, Uncle Alan.

There's not much for you to do at our flat.

No children your age, no garden to play in.

But we'll make the best of it.

We're here, Tom.

This house was something in its day.

Split up into flats some time ago.

HEAVY TICKING

Ours is on the first floor.

Don't touch that. The landlady's rather particular about it.

Then why does she leave it there?

The clock's screwed to the wall.

My sister's eldest.

There won't be any running, will there?

My nerves can't cope with running.

He's a quiet boy, Mrs Willows.

It's not worth going out the back.

There's no garden. Just the rubbish bins.

CHIMING

Seldom strikes the correct hour, I'm afraid.

-What good is the old thing then?

-Well, it keeps good time.

The landlady's flat. Mrs Bartholomew.

We're home.

This is the living room.

Come and see your bedroom, Tom.

This is a nursery.

I'm not a baby.

No. Of course you're not, Tom.

The room came like this.

The bathroom window has bars on it too.

We'll leave you to unpack, settle in.

Then it'll be tea-time.

KNOCKING

I thought you might like to write home.

-Tell them you arrived safely.

-Thank you.

'I hope your measles are better. This is the cathedral at Ely.

'The house is flats and there's no garden.

'My bedroom window has bars, but Aunt Gwen says it's a mistake.

'Tom...

'Long.'

You may read in bed for ten minutes, Tom. No longer.

If you need to use the convenience, remember,

-it isn't shameful for a young man to sit.

-It's quieter that way.

I'll try to keep that in mind.

-Goodnight, Tom. Sleep tight.

-Goodnight.

CLOCK CHIMES

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

For once it's correct.

Thirteen.

Thirteen?!

SNORING

OWL HOOTS

-Just rubbish bins. They lied to me.

-DOOR CLICKS

Atchoo!

I'm very sorry...

I've lit the fire in the parlour.

Welcome back.

-Do you believe lying is wrong?

-Of course, Tom.

-Always.

-Always.

-So it's never justifiable?

-Never.

Suppose someone was kept in the dark about something that he'd enjoy.

Suppose the other person said something wasn't there when it was.

-What was it that the second people didn't want the first people to know about?

-First person.

Let's say the thing was a...

A hot water bottle?

No. More like, um... More like a couch, say.

A large outdoor couch.

Oh. I'm not sure I've ever heard of that.

A large outdoor couch.

I don't think it matters what the thing is. The point is

that some persons were lying simply for their own convenience.

That's it exactly, Uncle Alan.

Do you think that kind of lying's right?

-I just wondered.

-Out of all the forms of lying,

that is surely the least justifiable.

Alan has a very highly developed sense of right and wrong.

I'm sure you will when you're grown up.

Excuse me.

I have one now. It's other people who haven't.

Hello.

You're the boy from the first floor front the Kitsons.

-Bit dull for you here, isn't it?

-Yes.

-Do you live on the ground floor back flat?

-I do at that.

-Do you have a maid?

-Do I look like I have a maid?

No.

DOOR SLAMS

That's old Ma Bartholomew coming down to wind her clock.

You don't want to run into her. She doesn't like children.

SOFT, SLOW FOOTSTEPS

Only 12 hours after all.

DONG!

DONG!

DONG!

DONG!

DONG!

CHIMING CONTINUES

CLICK!

HE MUTTERS TO HIMSELF

'Dear Peter, something incredible has happened.

'You'll never believe it.'

'I spend hours and hours in the garden

'at least it seems like that...

'but when I get back...

'it's only a few minutes later.

'I thought I could go anywhere in the garden,

'but it's not like that. I found a way to do things though.

'I made an extraordinary discovery.'

Bloody hell.

For all good things I thank the Lord.

May he keep me from all the works of the devil that he hurt me not.

GIRL SCREAMS

GIRL SIGHS

Not unless you put the clock back.

So a tree couldn't be fallen at one time,

then standing up again as it was before,

-unless you put the clock back?

-Yes.

-What clock?

-No particular clock. It means to have the past again. No one can. Time isn't like that.

You feeling all right, Tom?

-Yes, thank you.

-You looked as if you were shivering.

I hope it's not the onset of measles.

Then you'd be staying away from home for longer than ten days.

Only ten days?

You must be dying to get home.

I think I do have a temperature and that it is measles.

No. You've no temperature.

No temperature, no measles.

That's a relief...for you, I'm sure. Home soon.

CRACKLING

DOG BARKS

Let's all run from Hattie. Come on.

Please don't run from me.

Oh, you silly little juggins! Come on.

What will Aunt say?

Why did you fall?

I'll think of something to tell Mother. Now I'm off with the others. Stop crying.

Oh! Bloody hell!

Abel, have you seen my cousins?

They playing hide and seek with you again, Miss?

It's the only game they ever play.

You could ask them to let you do the hiding for a change.

They wouldn't find me easily. I can hide better than them.

I know more secret places.

Do you now, Miss Hattie.

I can be so quiet that nobody would even know I was in the garden.

Can you now.

I can see everybody and nobody can see me.

Hey!

Hey!

Come on, Sam. This way. Catch up!

Bloody hell.

-WOOF!

-Shoo. Go away.

Shoo. Go on.

-Let's play another game.

-Yes, but not Hattie. She doesn't play by the rules.

Can I have an apple?

-Only if you play by the rules.

-You keep changing the rules.

You can't keep up.

How dare you stick your tongue out at us!

My tongue was hot. I was cooling it.

-Don't give pert answers.

-Let her be.

Yes, James. We will. We'll let her be all alone.

I've seen you watching me and following me.

I saw you when Susan was dusting,

and when you waved from the tree.

I saw you when you went right through the orchard door.

I saw when you never knew it.

-Who are you?

-I'm Tom.

Tom Long. I know your name. It's Hattie.

Princess Hattie, if you please.

-You may kiss my hand.

-I don't want to!

If you're a princess, your father and mother must be king and queen.

-Where are they?

-I can't say. I'm a prisoner here.

Someone here calls herself my aunt, but she's wicked and cruel to me.

Those boys aren't really my cousins. I'm forced to call them that.

You can call me Princess and I'll allow myself to play with you.

CHEERFUL MUSIC PLAYS

'Peter, I can't really describe everything in the garden.

'I can tell you what it looks like, but not what it FEELS like.

'I mean to ask Hattie questions about the garden and everything,

'but somehow I always forget.'

-Did you get it?

-Susan almost caught me.

I always wanted to play bow and arrows,

but my cousins said I was too young,

and when I was older, they said they were too old.

CRASH!

-You made this, Miss Hattie?

-All by myself.

But who taught you to do it?

Someone.

Well, whoever it was, take care he don't teach you trouble with it.

Trouble? How could there be trouble?

WOMAN SCREAMS

I left the gate open.

How she came here unbeknownst is more than I know.

Unless the devil himself drew her.

I wager Hattie let the old thing in.

Harriet!

There is little doubt you are to blame for this.

Must I remind you that I received you into my home as a duty to my late husband?

No. You don't need to remind me.

-I would expect you to be grateful.

-I am grateful.

-Are you?

-Yes, Aunt.

-And are you obedient?

-Yes, Aunt.

-Show me.

To your room instantly.

Come on, girl.

Poor Hattie.

SOFT CRYING

Don't cry.

Why are you crying?

For my real home, for my mother, for my father.

They're dead. I don't want to be here.

Hattie?

Please leave me alone. I just want to be left alone.

'Strange things happen in the garden, Peter.

'I've seen Hattie as a very little girl, very unhappy, crying,

'and it makes me sad to see it

sadder, I think, than I've ever been.'

I'm sorry our outing's ruined.

Can't we still climb the tower?

They close the tower in weather like this.

I wish I didn't have to go home tomorrow.

Atchoo!

You haven't caught a cold, have you?

If he has got a cold, he can't go home.

Not with Peter just getting over the measles.

No, you're right. We'll telephone and say Tom must stay longer.

Mmm.

Did Mr Bartholomew always own this house?

Mr Bartholomew never lived here.

Mrs Bartholomew came here as a widow. That wasn't many years ago.

But what about the clock? You said Mrs Bartholomew owned it.

-But the clock has always been in this house.

-Why do you think that?

Though that clock must have been here for some time.

The screws have rusted into the wall.

I imagine Mrs Bartholomew bought the clock with the house.

It's very straightforward when you reason it out, isn't it?

I suppose so.

I'm not saying yes and I'm not saying no.

You enjoy having him here, don't you?

Most of the time.

It would be different if we had our own.

It would be permanent. Not just a fortnight's visit.

It's such a wonderful feeling,

knowing there's another life in the room next to us.

Sleeping peacefully.

-What's it like, I wonder, to be dead and a ghost?

-You tell me.

I'm not a ghost.

I saw you walk right through the orchard door.

I'm not a ghost. The orchard door is, the garden is, YOU are.

Indeed I'm not, YOU are, and a silly ghost in those clothes.

These are my best pyjamas and this is my bedroom slipper.

Why do you wear just one? Is that the fashion? No, you are a ghost.

'I'm glad you're better.

'Try as I might, I can't get any answers out of Hattie.

'The more time I spend with her, the more confused I get.

'Peter, I'm learning that girls can be very...emotional.

'When they cry, you find yourself saying rubbish to get them to stop.

'I need to find out more about Hattie.

'I need to find out everything about her.

'But time is running out. Bloody hell.'

The yellow one seems to drench everything in lemonade.

This one makes it look like night.

You can't really see anything through the star.

Sometimes I like that best of all.

You might think there wasn't a garden there at all.

But all the time, of course, there is one

waiting for you.

This is my favourite tree. It's the hardest to climb.

I call it Trixie.

See what I've carved? This means Hattie Melbourne has climbed it.

Carve my name too.

That means Tom Long has climbed this tree with you.

-It will always be here, won't it, Tom?

-Always.

Always and always.

I wonder what's on the other side of that wall.

I'll climb it and find out.

No. That wall's far too high.

What do you see? What do you see beyond the garden?

You can see the river,

and if you follow the river, you can see Ely Cathedral.

-Beyond that...

-Yes, beyond... Oh!

Hattie!

What happened?

Abel made me swear on the Bible that I'd never climb the wall.

-So dangerous, he said.

-Why would he think you would?

-Perhaps he heard me talking to you.

-No. Your voice was too soft.

-He couldn't have seen me.

-I don't know. He seemed so...

Angry?

Frightened.

Oh, you'll have to stay indoors again, Tom.

RAIN PATTERS

-We don't want you catching another cold.

-I suppose not.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, Tom.

It looks as if we might never get to climb the cathedral tower.

Mrs Kitson!

-I thought we had an understanding.

-I'm sorry, Mrs Willows?

No running about! We agreed. No running about.

We were just climbing the stairs. And rather quietly, I'd say.

I don't mean now. I mean at night. Every night there are footsteps.

-Oh, and at what time do you hear these footsteps?

-Midnight.

Every night at midnight when the clock strikes.

Footsteps running down the stairs, across the hall, out the back,

then right away, back again.

Surely you're not suggesting that Tom...

He's in bed then, aren't you, Tom?

Yes, Aunt Gwen. A boy my age needs ten hours sleep.

I know running about when I hear it.

Well...

Poor old dear is hearing things. Must have her wig on too tight.

CLOCK STRIKES

I promised Abel I wouldn't climb the wall. I didn't say this tree.

If this is to be a proper house, it must have windows,

not just accidental gaps in the walls.

-You expect too much.

-I hope I always shall.

Aagh!

Hattie!

Get you gone!

Get you back to hell where you come from. I know you.

I've seen you always and heard you,

and thought best to seem deaf, but I know you for the devil!

Please, is Hattie...? Is she alive or dead?

You've tried to kill her often enough.

Her with no father or mother. Just her innocence against your devilry.

May the Lord keep me from all the works of the devil.

Let me in! Hattie! Hattie!

Abel, what's happened?

James! Fetch the doctor.

Abel, please, how is Hattie?

She's not dead, is she?

No. She's alive.

SILENCE APART FROM SLOW TICKING

FOOTSTEPS

-Mother?

-Come in, James.

James?

How's Hattie?

Hattie will do well enough.

Is that what the doctor says?

Yes.

-We must be thankful then.

-Thankful?

-Why was she climbing trees at her age?

-Hattie's young for her age.

Perhaps it comes from being by herself so much.

It's beyond me to understand why she stubbornly refuses to grow up.

Hattie will grow up. She has no choice. None of us do.

-She'll grow up and marry.

-I'll not have her in this house when I'm gone.

Mother, please.

You, Hubert and Edgar are all in your father's business. You're independent.

But if any of you think of marrying Harriet,

never ever expect a penny from me.

Tom. Come through slowly. I want to see how it's done.

-It's a knack.

-I wish I could do that.

How are you?

I'm quite well. The doctor says the scar won't show.

-You had a visitor just now.

-Yes. Cousin James.

He says I should do things besides falling out of trees.

-Things without me.

-Oh, no, Tom. You can come whenever you want to.

I count on it. I depend on it.

-You have bars on your windows.

-It was a nursery once.

Don't be so sad, Tom.

Shall I show you something? A secret?

I'd like that.

This was my mother and father long ago.

You used to say they were king and queen.

Cousin James says I shouldn't say that,

and so I shan't.

Cousin James says a great many things

that seem to take away the fun.

I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow.

You always say that, then it's months before I see you again.

But I come every night.

Oh, Tom, I'm afraid it's time for me to grow up.

I'll never get back!

Aunt Gwen! Uncle Alan!

BELL JANGLES

Sleep well, Miss Hattie.

-Who is it?

-It's only me.

Tom.

You came back.

I can't get home.

But you are home, Tom.

'It was awful, Peter. I was trapped in the past with Hattie.

'In the end, I returned to now, but I don't know how I did it.

'It's almost as if Hattie helped me to get back.

'I think the clock holds a clue.

'I need to get back to the garden and to Hattie. That's all I want.'

Well, Tom, we must say goodbye to you soon.

-When?

-On Saturday.

I had a letter from your mother.

-This Saturday?

-Mmm.

We'll both miss you.

We could hardly expect to keep you with us any longer,

unless we adopted you.

If you adopt me?

I was only joking, Tom.

It's gone rather chilly. I'll plug the fire in.

Oh, yes.

CLOCK CHIMES

Hattie!

-Hattie!

-Tom!

Tom. You're so much thinner.

I'm no such thing. Aunt Gwen weighed me yesterday.

I didn't mean that. I meant thinner through.

No. I didn't mean that either. Or rather...

Can we look at the clock? To see the book the angel's holding.

Could we wait? Must you know now? I'd much rather skate.

-Oh, all right.

-I'm getting better. They all say so.

-Who's all?

-James, Edgar, Hubert...

and our new friend Barty.

Don't you like skating, Tom?

I do, yes, but I'd rather find out what the clock says. What the picture means.

All right.

You must be very quiet. Aunt is upstairs.

"Time no longer." But no longer than what?

Tell me, Hattie.

Is it when the last trumpet sounds and the end of the world comes?

Sometimes, Tom, it doesn't do to ask so many questions.

Are you coming to watch me skate?

No. I must think.

Imagine, Tom, that...

this is a point in time.

Now, imagine a painter standing in a landscape

and painting it.

Imagine a second painter behind him,

painting the landscape and the first painter's picture in it.

Then imagine a third painter coming up

and painting the same picture with the first and second painters' pictures.

Then a fourth painter, fifth... I hope this has made things clearer.

Oh, yes. Thank you, Uncle Alan.

Let's look at it another way.

Think of Rip Van Winkle.

Actually, that's not very illuminating.

Think of another point in time,

which we'll call Point A.

Different people have different times, but they're all part of the same big time.

-That would be implying...

-That I might be able to step into someone else's time

or she might step forward into my time,

which would see the future to her, although to me it's the present.

It'd be clearer to go back to Point A.

She'd be no more a ghost from the past than I'd be a ghost from the future.

Neither of us are ghosts and the garden isn't either.

That settles that. You've been very helpful.

What settles what? Gardens, ghosts? We're talking theories here.

But suppose someone had stepped out of one time into another?

It would be proof.

Proof?!

I've explained little if you don't know that proof in time theory...

Proof!

-Barty.

-Just coming, James.

It's been a pleasure.

Tom.

I'm so glad to see you. I miss you, even now

in spite of the cousins being so much nicer.

And Barty. And skating. Oh, Tom, skating!

I feel I could go from here to the end of the world.

I want to go far, so far.

Tom, why haven't you skates?

Hattie, where do you keep your skates?

In the boot cupboard in the hall.

-Will you promise something?

-Nothing that's dangerous. No tree climbing.

No. Promise me to keep your skates in the secret place you showed me.

-Under the floorboards.

-Why should I keep them there?

Please promise. I know it sounds silly.

That place is still secret?

The only person I ever told was you.

I don't understand why, but I'll keep them there. I promise.

Tom!

That means I'd have to leave the skates behind if I ever went away from here.

"To whomever may find this.

"These skates are the property of Harriet Melbourne.

"but she leaves them in this place in fulfilment of a promise.

"Harriet Melbourne. June 20. 18..."

Peter, you're looking your old self again.

-Doctor says we can go to the park tomorrow.

-Is there a card from Tom?

No. Nothing today.

You'll see him soon enough. He's coming home the day after tomorrow.

Poor boy. He must have had a dreadfully dull time.

CLOCK CHIMES

Tom?

Hattie.

I wasn't sure if it was you.

-Of course it's me.

-I hope so.

James is going to market, and I'm going with him to skate to Ely.

-Come with us, Tom.

-Out of the garden? I don't know if I can.

Of course you can. The garden will be there waiting for you.

Ready, Harriet?

There you are, old girl.

Never thought I'd see you again.

I don't know what we're going to do with him. He talks to himself.

I'll be no longer than an hour. If we miss each other, take the train.

-Shall we climb the tower, Tom?

-Yes.

286 steps.

Five minutes!

Five minutes till last descent!

"Mr James Robinson, gentleman of the city,

"who exchanged time for eternity."

Tom, I want to see the garden where you and Hattie play.

The garden's over there and Hattie's here. She's carrying the skates.

That's not Hattie. That's a grown-up woman.

Time to go down now, please, ladies and gentlemen.

She's grown up. How can you play with someone who's grown up?

Who was he, Tom?

What was he?

Come on, lady. Time, time.

He's my brother, Hattie. He's real, like me.

Bloody hell.

Miss Hattie?

Barty!

I'm so glad to see you.

Where are you off to all alone?

-She's not alone!

-James brought me. I'm just off for the train.

I have my carriage. I'll give you a lift.

Hattie. Wouldn't you rather...?

-I see you like skating.

-Yes.

More than anything.

We could go next week if you like.

To Castleford of Littleport. If you'd like.

We'd love to.

Whoa.

Here we are.

Goodnight, Miss Hattie.

Goodnight, Barty.

Yes. Goodnight, Barty.

Hattie? Wouldn't you like to go into the garden?

Hattie, don't you see me or hear me?

Please don't walk through me.

Hattie, please don't walk through me.

Perhaps you should wake him.

Yes.

A boy his age needs ten hours sleep, not twelve.

No, not this time! Not now!

Oh, you're awake.

It's morning.

Oh.

You've had a nightmare.

It's over now.

It's over now.

Alan...

I think it's time that Tom went home.

He's terribly strung up. Bad dreams, nightmares.

I wouldn't be surprised if he's even walking in his sleep.

'I have to get Hattie back, Peter. The way she was.

'I have a feeling that if I make one last trip into the garden,

'Hattie might be a little girl again and we can play together.

'I want that so much. I want time to go back.

'I might not be home tomorrow as planned.

'Tonight, I will exchange time for eternity.'

CLOCK CHIMES

I'm coming, Hattie. I'll find you in the dark.

CLATTERING

Hattie! Hattie!

Uncle Alan.

Come on. Let's get you to bed.

Midnight.

Every night at midnight. Footsteps running down the stairs.

He seems to be in shock.

It must have been the terror of waking up to find himself outside.

And he was carrying these.

Strange things to carry, even when sleepwalking.

-Where did he come by them?

-That's what I'd like to know.

And he was calling out to someone.

Probably his mother.

No. It was someone else.

-It was that old woman.

-Mrs Bartholomew?

Why can't she leave well alone?

-What did she want?

-An apology for the disturbance.

I apologised profusely, but she says the boy must go up himself.

That's outrageous. I wouldn't dream of sending him up there.

No. I'll go.

I ought to.

I don't mind.

I don't mind anything now.

Come in.

Your name is Tom, isn't it?

Yes.

-My name is Tom. I've come to apolo..

-Tom Long.

-I'm sorry...

-You woke me in the middle of the night.

I've said I'm sorry.

You called out a name.

Tom.

You called me.

Don't you see?

You called me.

I'm Hattie.

It's the barometer.

The barometer from the Melbourne's hall.

Uh-huh.

And the owl!

I don't understand.

The garden is gone and yet all these things are here.

You say you were Hattie. Our Hattie?

Yes. I was Hattie. I AM Hattie.

What happened after we skated. The last time we saw each other?

That wasn't the last time we saw each other, Tom.

Have you forgotten?

Don't you remember?

That's young Barty.

His name was John Bartholomew.

That was taken soon after we married.

It was in the year 1895 that we skated to Ely and climbed the tower.

We met Barty and he gave us a lift.

He told me that he'd made up his mind that day he wanted me for his wife.

We married a year later.

Aunt Melbourne was more than happy to have me off her hands.

Midsummer Eve was the eve of my wedding.

I was finishing my packing that night.

I took what I thought was a last look around the house.

Suddenly, and I don't know why, I remembered my skates,

and that made me remember you.

It had been so long since I'd seen you,

but I knew I had to leave them in the wardrobe where we'd agreed.

I wrote a note to go with them.

-I found the note. Signed and dated.

-At the end of the old century.

When the house was being sold, Barty and I came over for the auction.

The past I had escaped from,

but which was so much part of me,

was up for sale.

I stood with Barty in front of the mantle,

in what was once the parlour.

In that place where I had stood on Christmas Eve

the night I realised that Barty loved me and that I loved him.

The house was already quite different by then.

Colder, sadder,

emptier.

But the clock our clock was still there.

Still ticking.

Still alive.

Something that day, some feeling,

some vestige of memory,

drew me back to what was left of the garden.

Somehow I knew that Trixie would survive.

Barty sensed that that place held a special meaning for me,

even though I couldn't really explain why to him.

To know it was important to me was enough for him.

Very much in love, Barty and I stood together beneath Trixie's branches,

as the world around us continued to change.

By the end of that day, there would be one tree standing

in what was once our garden Trixie.

It's in its very own, very much smaller garden now.

I hope whoever owns it takes good care of it.

-Did Barty buy the clock for you?

-Yes.

Barty bought the house and the clock.

I'd always loved to hear it striking.

You didn't come to live here then?

No. We had a home in the Fens,

and we were content there more than.

We had two children.

Two boys.

They were both killed in the Great War.

The First World War we call it now.

And then, many years later, Barty died.

Peacefully in my arms.

I was left quite alone.

That was when I came here.

And I've lived here ever since.

Since you've come here, you've often gone back in time, haven't you?

Oh, yes, Tom.

When you're my age, you live in the past.

You remember it.

You dream it.

These last few nights, you've hardly dreamt about the garden.

I dreamt of my wedding and of leaving here.

Last night I called to you, but I never thought you'd hear me.

You woke me.

But I didn't mind.

I knew it was Tom calling for help.

-I couldn't believe you were real.

-We're both real. Then and now.

It's as the pendulum says...

-BOTH:

-"Time no longer.

Do you think our marks still show on Trixie?

I dream they do.

Until the next time.

Goodbye, Tom.

Goodbye, Hat...

Goodbye, Mrs Bartholomew.

Goodbye, Hattie.

When he ran and they hugged each other,

it as as if they'd known each other for years and years.

There was something else, Alan. I know this sounds absurd.

Mrs Bartholomew is an old woman and hardly bigger than Tom,

but when he put his arms around her and they hugged goodbye,

it was as if she were a little girl.

-Stop! Stop the car!

-Tom?

Tom, what are you doing?

-I'm sorry, sir, but do you have a garden?

-Yes.

Would you care to see it?

Tom! I'm so sorry, I...

I'm sorry. Good morning.

Tom.

-We're sorry. The boy...

-He's been very ill with a bad cold.

I think it would be nice to have a child.

After everything that just happened?

With Tom?

-But I...

-It'll be wonderful knowing there's another life next door.

Won't it?

Won't it just?

Of course, discipline will be paramount.

She stood here and touched it...

and said, "It's all real.

"You've made it all real, Tom...

"and you've kept it alive."

And so you have, my love.

# Peaches are gold today

# I opened up the door

# My heart got in the way

# This is what I saw

# Dreams and shades of green and gold

# Once upon a time

# He came right now

# Life is long and timeless

# And the magic's just a door away

# After always

# Past forever more

# Can I take you?

# I've been there before

# It's a place filled with wonder

# Filled with surprises

# Wait till you see what I saw

# Peaches are gold today

# Or was it last July?

# I went outside to play

# 'Neath a summer sky

# Life is long and timeless

# And the magic's just a door away

# After always

# Past forever more

# Can I take you?

# I've been there before

# It's a place filled with wonder

# Filled with surprises

# Wait till you see what I saw

# Come with me, let's walk through the door. #