Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day

Miss Pettigrew,

I was warned of your

stubbornness and impertinence,

and I should have known

better when you were called the

"governess of last resort."

But I had no idea

of your utter unsuitability.

You are dismissed.

- But, Mrs. Brummegan...

Away!

Allow me one last chance...

Goodbye, Miss Pettigrew.

I'm owed

a week's wages.

I say! I'm terribly sorry!

I do apologize.

Oh, no! My things!

My things!

Let me help you with that.

They'll have me back

in prison for this.

Oh!

Oh, nothing serious.

Well, when I say serious, I...

No.

Wait! Your...

Your belongings!

Sorry!

Gerry?

Edythe, if you can keep your hands

off him for just two seconds...

We're getting our

own cab, thank you.

That's naughty!

Let's get out

of here, Gerry.

Washburns.

Jane, aged five.

Lovely girl.

- Lost in the park...

Independence.

That's all that girl needs...

For six hours?

The Randle boys,

John and Robin.

" Wrestled retired Colonel Johnson to

the floor outside Fortnum and Mason's,

"shouting, 'Nazi warmonger'

because..." And I quote,

"Miss Pettigrew thought

he was a German spy."

A little joke.

"Ambulance called.

Police called."

Yes. And now

the Brummegans.

Miss Pettigrew,

we live in uncertain times.

My goodness, there

could be a war any day.

Do you think that work

is easy to find?

No, no.

Certainly not, Miss Holt.

But Mrs. Brummegan was...

Well, fond of a sherry,

if you take my meaning.

As a vicar's daughter,

I found her rather difficult.

No, she found you rather

difficult, Miss Pettigrew.

And that is, I'm afraid,

a recurring theme.

Miss Holt?

- Yes, Jilly?

The Lafosse household rang

last night. Still looking.

Thank you. Yes, I

won't be a moment.

A person can change.

I haven't seen any sign of that.

She could stop drinking.

Our clients don't adapt to

suit your needs, Miss Pettigrew,

you adapt to them!

I am trying,

Miss Holt. Really.

Give me one last chance.

You won't regret it.

My dear woman, I

already have. Thrice.

I'm afraid we have nothing

suitable for you at the moment.

Good day, Miss Pettigrew.

- Shall I come back tomorrow?

The situation is most

unlikely to have changed.

The day after?

Only if you desire the exercise.

Miss Holt.

Please, I implore you.

Yes, Miss Holt?

Miss Darlington is finishing with

Carole Lombard this week, isn't she?

She would be perfect for the

Lafosse residence, don't you think?

I think she would

be an excellent choice.

Can you refer

to her file for me?

Certainly.

Thank you.

I said good day,

Miss Pettigrew.

Good day.

Amazing.

Hi.

I have come

from Miss Holt's Agency.

What time is it?

It's five minutes

past 10:
00.

- Five minutes past.

In the morning?

- I believe so.

Oh, God!

Oh, my God,

look at the place.

I was given to believe

you were expecting me.

Miss Holt's

Employment Agency?

Darn right, honey.

And not a moment too soon.

Allow me.

Neat!

Time?

Six minutes

past 10:
00.

Can I be of any

further assistance?

Not unless you can get Phil out of

bed in the next two minutes, you can't.

I've known my share of

naughty boys who oversleep.

You too, huh?

Phil! It's time

to wake up, darling!

Damn it!

- Allow me.

I can get your boy up

and dressed in no time.

You could? Really?

Certainly.

- Angel.

One must not stand for

any nonsense, that's all.

They just need to know

who's in charge.

First door at the top

of the stairs.

Philip?

Rise and shine, Philip!

As I said to your mother, I

won't stand for any nonsense.

You naughty boy, get up!

I kind of am up,

as you can see.

Oh, golly!

Excuse me, Mrs. Lafosse,

may I speak to you?

Mrs. Lafosse...

Oh, heavens!

Answer that, will you? If it's

Nick, tell him... Tell him I'm dead.

Good morning, this is Miss Holt

here, of Holt's Employment Agency.

I've just rung to say that one of our

best women is on her way over to you now.

Hello?

No, no,

no! That won't be necessary.

I'm afraid that

Mrs. Lafosse is dead.

Goodbye.

Don't really do kitchens.

Hmm.

Any luck with Phil?

I'm so sorry, Mrs.

Lafosse... Delysia.

Delysia, I'm afraid I walked in

on your guest in a state of nature.

I fear that I have outraged

his sense of propriety.

Oh, no, Phil doesn't

have one of those.

He's a much bigger boy

than I had expected.

Oh, you noticed.

He is, isn't he?

Uh...

Hello?

Darling!

Really?

Mmm-hmm.

You, too.

He's at the club.

Be here in 10 minutes.

Oh, God.

Who?

- Nick!

Another man?

Well, of course

another man!

Jeepers.

I'm afraid there has been

a misunderstanding.

I can see the problem clearly

now and I really must be going.

You do?

Pardon?

See the problem. Really?

Well, yes.

- I knew it.

From the moment I set eyes on you, I just

knew I could trust you. I can, can't I?

Yes, you can.

- Thank you.

Thank you.

You've saved my life.

Have I?

- Hmm.

A two-pronged attack

should do it. Let's go.

Though I don't think you

should mention about Nick.

Or Michael.

- Michael?

Is he your son?

- My son? Lord, no.

Michael wants

to marry me.

Another man?

You don't have to wake

the neighbors about it.

Besides, that's only three.

Phil's rather free

about where he undresses.

He's a theater producer.

Well, his father is.

Phil's got his first show on at

the Ambassador. I've got the lead.

Well...

I'm pretty sure

I have now.

Hello again.

Awfully sorry about earlier. I

thought you were someone else.

That is some relief,

I suppose.

Jolly nice to meet you, dear

lady, but who the devil are you?

Who is she, gorgeous?

She's, um...

You know, I'm not

altogether sure.

Pettigrew.

Guinevere Pettigrew.

Guinevere.

Guinevere. Wow.

Yes, but who is she?

What in the world is she doing

in this particular bedroom

when you are

so obviously starkers

beneath that delightful

gown, don't you know?

We have...

An engagement.

- A meeting.

Meeting. Important meeting.

- Indeed we do. In 20.

Two...

- Twenty-two.

Not 22, Guinevere,

dearest. Two minutes.

What the dickens

can be as important

as another hour in bed

with young Philip-me-lad?

You don't mind,

do you, Guinevere?

It's all a bit new to me,

and it's devilish good fun.

Besides, I have

nothing till lunch.

Come back to bed,

beautiful.

Baby, baby, I'd

love to, but I can't.

Come on, it's an awfully good

cure for a hangover, I'm told.

Edythe's lingerie

show is at 11:
00.

Anyway, haven't you

got to get ready?

Who are you lunching?

- Nobody, really.

Charlotte Warren.

The Rabbit?

Why? She run out of carrots?

- Sweetie-pops...

But you said the lead was mine.

Phil, honey, you promised!

It is. It is. I'm sure it

is. You're the one, baby.

I just have to

clear it with Daddy,

being the bounder with

the checkbook and all.

You know, he wants me to meet

her. Amazing voice, apparently.

If you like

air-raid sirens.

It's just lunch, darling.

Come on, Delysia.

Remind your producer why you're

right for such a passionate part.

Charlotte Warren

the actress?

Know her, what?

I did happen to see her last

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes