Another Time, Another Place Page #8

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- Kay Trevor.

- Yes, I thought so.

I don't like standing around while

everything's shaping up to hurt her.

A few more evenings like last night...

All right, let's get to the point.

What about it?

While Mark and Sara were together

in London...

his letters to Kay

got shorter and shorter.

So she said.

She sensed that something pretty deep

was wrong...

but before she could get at the truth,

he died.

Of course, she took it very hard...

but she managed to get to her feet

and start living again.

She didn't let herself think

about the last days.

Only about the good times,

when they were together.

- Well?

- Now Sara is stirring it all up again.

- You mean the writing she's been doing.

- Writing? That's grave-digging.

And you're afraid

Kay's getting too close to the truth?

You've got to get Sara out of here.

Look Mr. Thompson, you're worried

about Kay finding out who Sara is...

because you don't want her to get hurt.

Well, I'm here to tell you

it wouldn't do Sara any good, either.

She isn't staying in that house

for the view, or to hurt Kay.

If she knew what she was doing,

she'd be out of there like a shot.

Mr. Thompson,

we're in the same shoes...

and neither one of us knows

which way to walk.

There's a dead guy called Mark Trevor

holding on to two women.

That's a tough rope to cut.

I'm trying to figure it out.

If you come up with anything bright,

let me know...

because I haven't got much time.

Give me your coat. I'll hang it up to dry.

I'm drenched.

I've often wondered how you manage

to keep this place so neat.

I have a woman come in daily

to throw my things around.

Make yourself at home.

Did you enjoy the picture?

Oh yes, I love films that end with

the dying criminal slowly climbing up...

the church steps.

Riddled with holes, like a Swiss cheese.

This'll be warm in a minute.

It was a lovely evening, Alan.

Thank you.

It was good to see you laughing again.

Can I get you anything? A drink?

Not for me.

It's funny being in this room again.

I remember when Mark and I

used to come here...

and the three of us

used to argue and laugh.

Yes, they were nice evenings.

Alan, why do you do that?

What do you mean?

Turn away

as soon as I mention Mark's name.

I'm sorry. I didn't know I was doing that.

You know, I've been thinking so much

about the last weeks...

when Mark wrote

those short, restless letters.

Alan, you were his friend.

Don't keep anything from me, now.

What happened to him?

I don't know.

But you were always with him.

He was working very hard,

day and night.

He never had a moment to himself.

You don't sound very convincing.

Tell me the truth, please.

I've told you.

No. You've avoided it. Why?

- What are you hiding?

- There's nothing to hide.

Was there someone else?

Don't be silly.

I want to know! Was that it?

Kay, please.

Did he fall in love with someone else?

Listen to me, Kay. Mark loved you.

Don't start torturing yourself.

No!

Mummy!

Brian!

Brian, what is it? Tell me what it is.

I was dreaming.

Oh, don't cry.

Tell me what you were dreaming about.

I saw Daddy, and there was a light

in his study, and he was there.

Well, that's nothing to be afraid of, dear.

I wanted him to talk to me,

but he wouldn't.

Don't. Now, you lie down, Brian,

and try to go to sleep.

There.

But if he really isn't gone away,

why wouldn't he talk to me?

What do you mean, darling?

Mummy always talks about him,

and you always talk about him.

He is coming back, isn't he?

No, Brian, he's not coming back.

Now, I'll tuck you in

and you'll fall asleep right away.

That's a good boy.

Where's Mummy?

She'll be back soon.

She went to the pictures.

You're all right now, aren't you?

I don't know.

Well, of course you are.

And you won't have any more dreams

like that. I promise.

- Good night.

- Good night.

Well, sir, you might try shark fishing

for your amusement.

I'm afraid that'd be more

for the shark's amusement.

Excuse me.

Ship Inn. Yes, certainly.

Will you hold the line?

Mr. Reynolds?

- Phone.

- Thank you.

Hello?

- Carter?

- Sara?

Yes.

I want you to come up

and get me out of here.

What's happened?

I can't tell you now. Please hurry.

I'm on my way.

Kay?

It started to rain.

We went to Alan's place

to wait until it stopped.

What's wrong, Kay? Can you tell me?

I found out why Mark stopped writing.

He met someone in London

and fell in love with her.

It was really very obvious.

Alan didn't say anything,

but I could see it in his eyes.

Alan didn't say anything,

but I could see it in his eyes.

I can't think of anything

except, "What was she like?

"Did she work with him?

Was she beautiful?"

Kay, listen to me.

I can't help it, I've got to know!

I won't see anyone.

What's the matter?

- She found out.

- What?

No, not about me,

just that there was someone.

Carter, I have to tell her.

- Stay away from her. Don't do it.

- But I must!

- Get hold of yourself. Let's get away.

- No.

Do you want to stay

and watch her suffer?

- I'm going to tell her who I am.

- What good would it do?

If I hadn't come here,

none of this would have happened.

I brought him back to her.

All right, she found out,

but why tell her it was you?

What could be more cruel?

To let her torture herself

about who it was.

To go on wondering, not knowing.

- Lf you tell her, she'll flay you alive.

- I know.

Well?

I'll tell her.

Want me around when you do it?

But I want you waiting when I come out.

With a big net?

The biggest.

- Good night, Mr. Polworth.

- Good night, Sam.

Sara.

I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.

You didn't.

I felt frightened.

I know.

Kay, remember the first night

I stayed here?

You told me about Mark's death...

and how you'd found a way to face it.

Yes, I remember.

You told me because you felt

I was suffering the same way.

You were right. I was.

Mark and I met three months ago

in London.

Mark and you met?

We fell in love.

Why are you telling me this?

I want you to know who it was.

What are you doing here?

Why did you come to my house?

Kay, I knew so little about him.

I had to see where he lived, just once,

before I left England.

I asked you

what you're doing in my house.

I didn't mean to come inside,

believe me.

I walked through the village

and passed the house.

Then I saw Brian...

and when he talked to me,

I couldn't seem to move away.

Then you asked me in.

I couldn't help it. Don't you understand?

Oh, yes, I understand.

I understand a lot of things now.

Why you wanted to be friends...

why you helped with the broadcasts,

and why you stayed in the house.

Kay, please.

What are you trying to do?

Take Mark away from me...

even after his death?

Say anything you want.

I'm sorry, Sara.

I didn't give you enough assistance.

No one could expect you

to write properly about him...

without knowing all the intimate details.

I'll try and make that up to you now.

We were married in that village.

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