(gentle music) (bird hooting)
♪ Oh ♪
♪ Oh, oh ♪
♪ Ah ♪
♪ Ah, ah ♪
♪ Oh ♪
♪ Oh, oh ♪
- Beatrix?
(suspenseful music)
Beatrix.
- Oh, sorry, darling, I didn't hear you there.
- I'm going up. You coming?
- I'll be right with you.
(Beatrix sighs)
(solemn music)
(animal squeaking)
(playful music)
Bloody mice.
(playful music)
(ethereal music)
- [Narrator] A curious mouse crept
from his room in the house
and knew then that his father had died.
He'd seen this doctor before take his sister to the morgue,
and he realized the grown-ups had lied,
for this world wasn't magic.
It was often quite tragic.
Not every mouse lived to grow old.
So while misery reigned,
he'd retreat to his brain,
for the tales he wanted to be told.
(gentle music)
(footsteps approaching)
(door creaks)
(door clacks)
(solemn music)
(Roald speaks in foreign language)
(Harald speaks in foreign language)
- Look after Mama.
(somber music)
(bright music)
(duck quacks)
(gentle music)
- Sally!
Sally, come now!
Come!
(Sally grunting)
(Beatrix laughs)
(Sally grunting)
Come on, Sally.
(Sally grunting)
Good girl.
Far too cold outside or ladies of our age.
Don't you think?
(Sally snorts)
(gentle music)
(ethereal music)
(children chattering)
(engine rumbles)
(car doors thud)
- Children, it's time to say goodbye to Papa.
(ominous music)
(playful music)
(duck quacking)
(Beatrix panting)
♪ When they are both full grown ♪
♪ Of all the trees that are in the woods ♪
♪ The holly bears the crown ♪
♪ O the rising of the sun ♪
♪ And the running of the deer ♪
(duck quacking) (objects banging)
- Enough of that!
Be quiet at once!
Do you hear me? Be quiet!
(duck quacking)
♪ Sweet singing in the choir ♪
(duck quacking)
♪ The holly bears a blossom ♪
Stay still, darn it,
so that I can kill you!
♪ And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ ♪
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
Yes, yes, oh, no!
Fine, have it your way.
But I'm not giving up on Christmas dinner that easily, Sago.
You'll see.
(animal squeaks)
Well, don't look at me like that, Tuppenny.
That duck's had it coming for weeks!
Not listening!
Oh, do shush, will you?
- Happy Christmas, Miss Potter.
- It's Mrs. Heelis to you.
And I'll thank you not to trespass on my property.
- Well, just trying to do something nice
for the kiddies at Christmas.
- I think I've done my bit for that lot.
Now get off my land or I'll set my dog on you.
(dog whimpering)
- [Carolers] Aww!
- For goodness sake, Fleet. (sighs)
- Happy Christmas, Miss Potter.
- It's Mrs. Heelis.
(door thuds)
(somber music)
(ominous music)
(solemn music)
- Have you been in?
I see.
No one will make you go in there, Roald.
It's hard so soon after losing your sister.
Now is our chance for goodbyes,
if goodbyes are something you want.
(ominous music)
- Will you come with me?
- Of course.
(tense music)
When we get inside, Papa's in bed,
but, Roald, it's not really Papa anymore, understand?
It's just a body,
so if you don't want to see,
just close your eyes, all scrunched tight, like this.
Okay?
- Okay.
(somber music)
(phonograph clicking)
(singer sings in foreign language)
- Mrs. Dahl, I was wondering if I might have a word
about our route to the church.
- Certainly.
(singer sings in foreign language)
(door clacks)
(singer sings in foreign language)
- Papa?
(dramatic music)
(door clacks) (record scratches)
- You, boy, keep your filthy hands off the deceased!
(dramatic music)
(record scratches)
(playful music)
- [William] Beatrix!
- Coming!
(playful music) (Sago quacking)
- I mean, to bury your little girl is one thing,
but then to have your husband dead and all,
before a month have even passed,
well, too much for any woman.
- It's a crock and tragedy is what it is.
- Hmm.
- Mentally troubled too, I heard.
- Never! Who told you that?
- You did, I think.
- Did I?
Well, it must be true then
- Oh yeah, she's packin' the boy off to school
and headin' back to her mother in Norway.
- Makes sense.
She can't be managin' 'em all on her own.
- Probably got another stab at marriage,
if she manages to pack all them brats somewhere.
Wouldn't mind a shot myself.
- You never had a problem with seconds, have you, Butler?
- What can I say?
I'm a man of huge appetites.
(both laugh)
May I?
- No, you may not.
She's my mother, and you can't have her.
(kick thuds) (Butler grunts)
(group chattering)
- [Doctor] And clearer now
or now? - Now.
I don't appreciate being ambushed, William.
- It's not an ambush.
Mr. Entwistle has kindly found time for a house call.
You seem to have accidentally missed
your previous appointments.
- Now or now? - Now.
- And stopped opening correspondence and writing letters.
- Now or now? - Now.
Well, that's because, if you haven't noticed,
I am writing- - I know.
You're very busy not writing a book.
- Exactly.
And those books don't not write themselves, you know.
- [Doctor] And clearer now
(Sally grunts)
or now?
- I'm not sure.
Now, or possibly now.
I, I don't know anymore.
(Sally flatulates)
Pardon me.
(Sally flatulates)
- (clears throat) And, um,
how's your vision been over the last year?
- I, I don't know.
Everything's getting a bit foggy on the fells, these days.
- Regardless of the weather.
What'd you think?
- Well, very simply,
evidence of age-related macular degeneration.
- He means old lady eyes, doesn't he?
- I mean, could it be glaucoma or cataracts?
- Hard to say without further examination.
Ideally, I'd need her to come in for further tests.
(Beatrix whispers)
Well, seeing as you're very, very, very busy,
for the time being-
- Oh God!
You're going to make me wear spectacles, aren't you?
- It might help.
I have some temporary ones, if you'd like to try.
- I'll consider it, later.
So, uh, gentlemen, unless there's something else,
other than my age-related degeneration,
I'm afraid I really am rather busy.
- Thank you.
We really do appreciate you coming out all this way.
Don't we, Beatrix?
Beatrix?
- Yes, most kind.
- Sorry, before I go, I couldn't possibly ask
for an autograph, could I?
- Oh, do you have children?
- Oh, no, heavens no.
Can't stand the blighters.
Just wanted one for the office,
pop it on the wall, celebrity clients type of thing.
We've got a cracking one from Virginia Woolf.
- Get him a rabbit card, William.
(playful music)
- Oh, that's topping!
Look at that, his little bunny whiskery face.
Yeah, that's good. That's very good indeed.
You should write one about Peter Rabbit getting spectacles.
- Should I?
- Yes, um, well, let me know how you get on
with that, yeah. (Beatrix sighs)
Happy Christmas.
(playful music)
I suppose her bark is worse than her bite, is it?
- No, no, it's not.
Thanks all the same.
(playful music)
(ethereal music) (wind whistling)
(knocks at door)
(people chattering)
- Mind if I join you?
What are you reading?
Oh, of course.
Beatrix Potter again.
You know, I don't think I see your face anymore, boy,
just this.
(Sofie chuckles)
(Roald laughs)
Perhaps, one day, you will lower the book,
and there you will be, and, well,
with a gigantic beard,
and I will have missed the whole show.
- I will never get a beard, not ever.
- What did they say, Roald?
- He said that you were sending me away to school
and that you'd go back to Norway without us,
and he was going to take you as his wife.
(Sofie sighs)
- You know what we call men like this in Norway?
(Sofie speaks in foreign language)
You understand?
It means, um,
a great, big, bottom-hole man.
(Roald laughs)
- Mama. - A great,
big, saggy bottom-hole. (laughs)
(Roald laughs)
Come on, say it with me.
(both speak in foreign language)
Very good, yes, loud as you can.
I mean this. It's educational.
(Sofie and Roald yell in foreign language)
(both laughing)
The man is a massive twit.
I'm not going back to Norway.
- What about me?
You're not sending me away, are you?
Mama?
- Well, that's another thing.
You're papa wanted.
He always said that an English education is the finest
in the world.
How else could such a tiny prump
of a country become such a force.
- Prump?
- Fart.
(both laugh)
And I've heard about a very lovely school,
not so far from here, Roald,
just over the water, actually.
- So you are sending me away.
- No, no, not yet.
We've got the whole of the Christmas holidays to go first.
- No!
- Roald!
- No, I don't want to go.
- Sit down, please.
Let me tell you about it, first.
It sounds like an adventure.
- No, I won't go!
And you can't make me and neither can Papa,
because Papa's dead!
(door clacks)
(footsteps stomping) (solemn music)
(door thuds)
(somber music)
- A nasty flash of temper the boy's got there.
But you don't go worrying your pretty little head about it.
They'll soon beat that out of him in boarding school.
Give you a bit of time
for your needs, you know, love.
(Sofie speaks in foreign language)
(playful music)
Beautiful, that creature.
Reckon I'm in now.
(William sighs)
- I thought it might help you get this book done.
That's all. - That has nothing
to do with my eyes, William.
And I can't get this book done,
because I don't want to get this blasted book done.
- Why ever not?
- Because Warne's don't care what they publish anymore.
I'm just a blank check to them now.
All they want is another damned bunny book,
irrespective of the content,
and then it's Christmas bonuses all around.
- So just give them one.
- I, I can't.
(Beatrix sobbing) Hey.
(Beatrix mumbles)
Say?
- I, I don't want to wear spectacles, Willie.
They'll make me look like an old lady.
- You are an old lady, Beatrix.
(Beatrix laughs)
A perfectly serviceable one, too.
- And that's exactly why I married you, Mr. Heelis,
your romantic way with words.
- Nonsense.
You married me for my ability
to access land registry documents.
Troutbeck Farm, it's coming up soon,
but we can't hang about if you're interested.
There's a hotel here in Manchester
who's already sniffing about.
- That's most of Kirkstone Pass.
- Exactly.
- Well, they mustn't get it.
It would change the whole area.
- They're planning to carve it up,
sell it off in sections.
- How many acres?
Can you read the rest of it to me, William?
- No.
- Beg your pardon?
- I won't.
Read it yourself,
unless, of course, you need spectacles.
(clock chimes)
(Beatrix sighs)
- Hello.
Are you still in there, somewhere?
(Fleet whimpers)
Well, what do you think?
(Fleet whimpers)
Rude!
- [William] Bloody animal!
- Sally!
Oh, Sally.
What have you done this time?
(Sally snorts)
Just stay there, just stay there, just sit.
- Has that damn pig of yours been in the house again?
- No, not that I know of, no.
Why?
(Sally flatulates)
I, uh, beg your pardon.
- Beatrix.
- Sorry, darling, I think it might be nerves.
Did you need anything?
- No, sit down, get that blasted book written,
so we can finally enjoy Christmas.
- Yes, I'm writing. I'm writing!
Now just settle down and stay there.
(Sally snorts)
(Beatrix sighs)
(lively music)
(mouse squeaking)
(mouse yells)
(metal clangs)
(clock ticking)
(solemn music)
(ethereal music)
- [Narrator] To be sent from your home
when you're left on your own,
with a sister and father now dead,
left no choice for our mouse,
'cause a home's just a house,
if the future there fills you with dread.
(gentle music)
- Roald!
- How do you know my name?
- Your sister Astri told me, pea-brain.
Runnin' away, are you?
- Maybe.
I've got space in my bag if you want to come with me.
- No, thanks.
I think I'd best stay on Astri's bed,
just in case she comes back.
- She isn't coming back.
- I know.
Roald, before you go, would you do me a favor?
Astri wrote this.
I'm worried it won't get posted.
(gentle music)
- "Dear Father Christmas, I am seven.
This year, I have been good.
Please can you get a new dress for my doll Lavender.
Her old one is getting a bit frayed."
- Hmm, it is a bit.
- "And please, could you get Roald
a new Beatrix Potter book.
He's read me all his old ones so many times,
and I'd really like to hear something new.
- Mm-hmm. - "Do have a safe journey.
Love, Astri."
- Would you post it for me?
- Of course.
See you then.
- See you.
And, Roald, do have a safe journey.
(gentle music)
(Lavender sighs)
(door clacks)
(Lavender sighs)
(Beatrix sighs)
(Beatrix mutters)
(Beatrix sighs)
(Beatrix yawns)
(Sago quacking)
- Oh, Sago, you have made a foolish error there, my friend.
I'll get you this time.
(knife clinks)
- Finished already?
- Nearly. I've just got to pop out and kill Sago.
- Oh, honestly, Beatrix,
I do wish you'd stop giving then names.
It really does spoil a meal.
- You're right. Sorry.
Come on, dog.
- I don't mind the pets, just not the dinner.
Please!
- Absolutely.
Come on.
- When exactly are Warne's expecting this book
to be delivered by?
- Tomorrow.
But I'll say it was delayed in the post.
You know what it's like this time of year.
It'll be fine.
And besides, it's only the final manuscript.
They've seen most of it already.
- Beatrix.
- Trust me, it'll be fine.
(Fleet barks)
(dramatic music)
(ominous music)
- [Narrator] Now when Mouse left his home and set off alone,
he was aware he was lacking a plan.
But he knew in his heart
that a good place to start was his map
to a happier land.
For whenever in doubt,
if you're down but not out,
there's comfort to be found between pages.
But if it's true solace you seek,
fire your mind, not your feet.
And that healing, I'm afraid,
well, that can take ages.
(solemn music)
- Roald!
Roald!
(ominous music)
(ethereal music) (wind whistling)
(suspenseful music)
- Ha, I've got you now, Sago.
- [Man] Afternoon, Mrs. Heelis!
- (sighs) Tom.
What can I do to help you?
- Ah, I just wanted to let you know
I'm taking your first lot of Herdwicks up on the fell now
if you wanted to follow on.
- Oh can't wee keep them on Hill Top, over winter?
- Keep 'em here?
(scoffs) No, no, no, no, no.
You may get your London sheep able to live in those sort
of cramped and squalid conditions, Mrs. Heelis,
not your Herdwicks, thank you very much.
- Aren't actually that many sheep in London, Tom.
- Well, I wouldn't know.
I've not been there myself.
All I know is your Herdwicks wouldn't stand for it.
They need more land than that.
- Like Troutbeck, that sort of land?
- Exactly.
Complicated breed, your Herdwick.
- Hmm. - They need space
of their own,
space to be left alone,
to think.
- Right.
Do you think perhaps I was a Herdwick
in a previous life, Tom? (laughs)
- No.
- I see.
So you comin' or what?
'Cause Herdwicks don't wait for no one,
no matter who you are
or what fancy part of London town you're born and raised in.
- Do you know what?
You've just given me a very good reason to get back to work,
see if I can't buy our ladies a bit more room.
But call for me later, and I'll join you then.
- Suit yourself.
I'm not bothered, either way.
Come on now, you!
Haven't got all bloody day.
Well, I have, as you know,
but I'm not spending it with the likes of you.
(train horn bellows)
- [Man] Platform two, we're expecting one soon.
(solemn music)
- [Man] Come on, move it out of the way!
- Kentish cobnut?
(playful music)
Quite right, chicken.
You've taken a shufty at an old fungus like me,
offering you up some dodgy Manjari, and thought,
not likely, pal! (laughs)
You're no dido, are ya?
(man laughs)
- I try not to be.
- Well, don't you worry your bones about it.
I'm a bonafide gent, make no mistakings.
Where's a young fidelio like you off to,
on your tort, anyhows?
- Here.
(man whistles)
- Fantabulosa!
Bona place to call your flowery patch,
if you can get heels on it, eh?
- It's in the Lake District.
- Yeah?
You got the denari for a trip up a district, like that?
- Sorry?
- The medzas, moola,
the filthy lucre?
- (chuckles) Oh, yes, a bit.
- Gushti.
'Cause you could always come see your Unky Bonafide,
if you get stuck in the brassicas.
Despite the shonky garms,
I'm not short on the old lollipops,
if you follow my fathoms.
(coins jingling)
(man laughs)
- I'm fine. Thank you.
- Smashing!
In that case, keep your orbs in your bunts
and your lally tappers on the end of your stimps,
ready to scarper, if need be.
Am I right or am I left?
- (laughs) Right. - Right.
Oh, hold on to your Irish jig, my little ragioso.
There's a sharpy palone headin' straight for us.
So if you don't mind, I might take this opportunity
to wish you a bona noche.
- Bona noche?
(dramatic music)
- Yes, Miss, here's one.
(solemn music)
(train chugging) (solemn music)
- [Sofie] Hello.
- Hello.
(Sofie sighs)
- Fancy meeting you here.
(Sofie sighs)
- I wouldn't have actually gone, you know.
- I know. (sniffs)
Do you think you might like to come home, perhaps?
- So you can send me away again?
- I'm not sending you away.
I'm just asking you to think about it.
For me and for Papa.
- If you do something for me.
- Oh?
A deal? I see.
What is it?
- [Roald] Take me here.
- Beatrix Potter's house?
Well, this is Cumbria, isn't it?
- You're thinking it's too far to go.
- Actually, I'm thinking I hope this train leaves sometime.
We've a long journey ahead of us.
(bright music)
- Oh.
(whistle blows)
- Come on, what you waitin' for?
All aboard, ya dolly old minx!
- [Sofie] Come on, let's go.
- [Narrator] Mouse knew with one glance this was his chance.
If missed, he might not get another,
for he was now strong as iron
and brave as a lion,
as long as by his side was his mother.
(upbeat music) (train chugging)
- William!
Sorry, I've taken so long.
Sago, I mean, dinner is being very uncooperative,
and then I saw Tom.
- [William] There's a visitor.
- Sorry, I cannot hear a word.
Let me just get my boots off.
- [William] You've got a visitor.
- I cannot hear you.
I'll be in, in a minute.
(Beatrix sighs)
I suppose I'm losing my hearing as well as my sight.
You'll be towing me across the fells
in a bath chair soon, Fleet.
(Beatrix groans)
Ooh!
(sighs) Not again, Tom Kitten.
(whistle blows)
(train chugging)
- You mind? I just need to stretch the leg.
Thank you so much, terribly, terribly kind.
Roald, psst!
Roald, let's play a game.
- Okay, what game?
- Hide and seek.
- A bit tricky.
- Mm-hmm.
Okay, tag.
- Again, tricky.
- Mm, yes, tricky, tricky, you're right.
- I spy.
- Look, do you mind?
I'm trying to read the newspaper.
I would appreciate some quiet.
- I am so very sorry.
We had no idea you were doing something so important.
Forgive us.
- Just keep it down, will you?
- Of course.
We will be quiet as mices, won't we, Roald?
Sandwich, darling?
- Not hungry.
- Yes, you are, darling.
(playful music)
(Sofie and Roald laugh)
- All right, that's it.
Enough of this whiffle.
(Roald chuckles)
(sandwich splats)
I bid you both good day.
(playful music)
(Roald laughing)
- Whiffle?
(both laughing)
(playful music)
(bell ringing) (people chattering)
Wait here for a taxi.
I'll be right back.
(people chattering)
- [Woman] Thank you. Quickly now!
- [Man] Get the sheep.
Get the sheepdog. Get a move on.
- Hurry up!
I haven't got all day.
Oh, come on!
- Very slippery.
Here you go, ma'am.
- Get in, come on. - Careful, or you'll fall.
- [Woman] Get a move on.
- Excuse me, sorry.
But I was actually next in line.
- Oh? Were you indeed, you little pest?
Well, you ain't next in line anymore, are you?
- But I was.
What a horrid lady.
- Tell me about it.
- Wow.
- You should try livin' with her.
- You can talk?
- Hey, buddy, what can I tell ya?
I used to do a whole lot of things
before this mook got hold of me.
- Like what?
- Like what, he says!
I could see in the dark, dig a den a mile deep,
run faster than an automobile.
Now look at me, an accessory to nothin'.
- Why don't you just run away?
- I've thought about it, pal.
Don't get me wrong, I have.
But to tell ya the truth,
in the end, I just don't have the guts.
(both laugh)
I don't have the guts. You get it?
(both laugh)
'Cause they took my guts away.
(Roald laughing)
- What are you laughing at, you nasty little brat?
- Nothing, nothing at all.
(woman scoffs)
- [Woman] Hey, George, and don't dilly dally.
(car doors thud)
- Be lucky, hombre. Be lucky!
(quirky music)
- Who was that?
- No one.
- Mm!
Come on, don't stand about with your beard in the post box.
Apparently, we can walk from here.
(gentle music)
Come on.
(Sofie sighs) (gentle music)
(ethereal music) (wind whistling)
- Another present from Tom Kitten.
- Revolting creature.
Now you're givin' it to me.
(Beatrix laughs) Thank you so much.
Shall I tell her that you'll see her now?
- Tell who I'll see what?
- [William] Your young lady.
- I haven't got a young lady.
- Well, you have.
She's in the drawing room.
- (sighs) But I haven't killed Christmas dinner yet.
- Honestly, Beatrix, leave that to me.
You have a guest.
- Fine!
Can I help you?
- Beatrix Potter, so lovely to meet you.
I am a huge, huge fan.
Anne Landy.
- Oh, I wasn't expecting visitors today.
- Oh really?
Oh don't say that, I can't bear it.
Warne assured me he'd made several introductions
on my behalf.
Didn't you get his letters?
- Uh, no, I'm afraid not.
Delayed in the Christmas post, perhaps.
- Yes, perhaps, perhaps.
The post is dreadful at this time of year.
It's dreadful.
I sent a cardigan to my sister in Freund.
Do you know she still hasn't got it?
- When did you post it?
- About two years ago now.
- I see.
What exactly can I do to help you, Miss Landy?
- Oh, gosh, of course!
If you haven't received his letters,
you wouldn't know, would you?
Shall we start all over again?
- No, that's not really necessary.
I- - Beatrix Potter,
lovely to meet you, huge fan.
Anne Landy, work at Warne's.
They sent me to collect the manuscript in person.
Save you the postage.
- Have they, indeed?
That's most kind.
- Can't have your lovely new manuscript going the same way
as my sister's cardigan, now can we?
- No, heaven forbid.
- So shall we get some tea,
take a look at what you've been up to,
you clever old thing you?
- Thank you. That goes there.
(wind whistling)
(ethereal music)
(Sofie gasping)
- So, this is it then?
- It's exactly like the drawings, Mama, exactly,
even the rhubarb plants by the gate, look.
- I can see.
(ethereal music) (Sofie sighs)
- Thank you.
- What for?
- For bringing me.
- Sorry, you mean that is it?
- Yeah, so I've seen it now.
- (laughs) No, no, no, no.
We did not travel all this way
to boil away to nothing in cabbage.
Go in.
- I can't. I'm not allowed.
- Says who so?
- They do, right there.
- Oh, (speaks in foreign language).
You're Norwegian.
You can't read that.
Just pretend you haven't seen it.
- Really? - Yes, yes.
- Will you come with me?
- (laughs) Darling boy,
if I come with you on every adventure you have in life,
you'll never have any stories to tell me, will you?
- [Roald] I suppose.
- And when I am a little old lady,
stuck at home with a blanket on my knees,
I will need you, out here, in this big world,
telling me all about it.
Now go, start your adventures now.
I'll be back in one hour, okay?
- Okay.
(gentle music)
You'll be fine.
(gentle music)
(bright music)
- [Narrator] As Mouse scampered ahead
to the words she had said wrapped him up
as if now he wore armor.
And whatever he found, every detail, every sound,
he'd remember and take home to charm her.
(bright music)
(clock ticking)
- So, what do you think?
- Well, let me be totally honest with you.
I think it's divine.
(laughs) Sorry, your face then, so funny.
You thought I was going to be cross, but I love it.
The little rabbit making ale in a pinny.
- Cecily Parsley.
- Yes, Cecily, absolutely love her.
Warne's will go bananas for it.
Honestly, I think we'll sell this by the ton.
I just know we will.
- I'm sure you will.
- Watch out, Peter Rabbit, there's a new bunny in town.
(Anne laughs)
- Well, if I finish off a couple of drawings today,
you can take it back to London.
- Smashing.
Before you do...
(Anne chuckles)
(Anne sighs)
- Is there a problem?
- No flies on you, B.P.
Warne was hoping you might be able
to make one teeny-weeny alteration.
- Oh, he was, was he?
- It's just those rather pesky blind mice of yours.
(clicks) Eek.
- What about them?
- Well, nothing, obviously.
We adore them.
But general feeling in the office is
that some of the language is a little too,
how can I best put this?
- I'd recommend quickly.
- Extreme for the kiddies. (Beatrix groans)
I mean, the fact that they're blind, in the first place,
all three of the darlings-
- It's a nursery rhyme.
- But it's so sad.
- Is it?
(Beatrix grunts)
(quirky music)
What was that?
- Uh, what was what?
- In the garden, did you see it?
- See what?
- You were saying?
- Yes, then despite their obvious disability,
the blind mice, out comes the farmer's wife,
and well, you know the rest.
- Peter?
Sorry.
- She cuts off their tails with a carving knife.
(quirky music)
- The nerve of people.
- Exactly.
Horrible!
Not really bedtime story stuff, now is it?
We don't want to give the children nightmares, now do we?
- I'm sorry. I don't follow.
- So Warne's have sent me here in the hope
that between us we might be able to come up
with something a little less ghastly. (laughs)
- We?
- I know, you and me.
Should be fun, don't you think?
(Anne laughs)
(quirky music)
(ethereal music) (wind whistling)
(solemn music)
- Closed, love.
- Sorry, I'll rest here for a moment.
(Sofie sighs)
(Dora sighs)
(Sofie sighs)
(lock clicks)
- Come on then, there's room at the inn.
- What inn?
- This one.
Park yourself there.
I'll get the kettle back on.
- That's very kind. Thank you.
- Well, can't be turning you away
in your condition at Christmas.
Who knows who've you got parked in there?
I might go down in history as Dora, the heartless waitress
what turned away the new messiah. (laughs)
- I don't think it's the new messiah.
This is baby number five.
- Ooh!
Crikey, you have been busy.
(Dora grunts)
Hasn't your fella got any other hobbies?
Tell him to take up cricket
or cross-stitch or something. (laughs)
And if that fails,
just tie a knot in it. (laughs)
Oh God.
Oh you poor lamb.
Oh, I'm such an idiot.
He's left you,
hasn't he? - (sobs) No.
- Not left you?
He's not dead, is he?
- This week,
pneumonia, but then,
two weeks before that, my little girl died,
burst appendix, and my baby is due any day now.
We have run out of money, almost entirely.
And then, to top all the things off,
my youngest son ran away from home
to find a Puddle-Duck. (chuckles)
- Right, you stay put.
I'll be right back.
- (sniffs) Where are you going?
- To fetch the rest of that cake.
We're gonna need it, judgin' by the week you've had.
- [Anne] They all run after the farmer's wife,
who releases them kindly and ends all their strife.
- No.
- Who, who stands on a chair and screams for her life.
That's it! That's it!
- Well, I'm sorry.
You're saying a farmer's wife screams for her life,
because she's seen a mouse?
- Well, not just one mouse, three, and they're all blind.
Think of it, it's utterly terrifying.
- Have you ever met a farmer's wife, Miss Landy?
- No, never, but don't you think it's scans beautifully?
I love it. - Yes, well, I don't.
And the last time I checked, it's still my name on the cover
of these blasted little books and not yours!
(Beatrix sighs)
- I see.
- Look, I'm,
I'm sorry I snapped, but the truth is,
you, you haven't called at the best time.
Christmas is days away,
and I've still got so much to do on the farm.
I haven't even killed Sago yet.
- I'm sorry, who?
- The duck.
- Beatrix, can I call you Beatrix?
- No.
- I think I know what the problem really is here.
In fact, everybody does.
That's why they sent me.
- What problem?
- Oh, please.
Don't pretend you wouldn't rather be out there,
with your sheep or pigs, rather than in here with me.
- Mm-hmm.
- And yet,
the money is awfully useful, isn't it?
- What exactly are you proposing?
- All I'm saying is the sooner you just sign off
and agree to my text,
the sooner you can get back on the farm.
We get this sold, and everyone's happy, are they not?
(sheep bleating)
(Beatrix sighs)
- Fine, change the text, have it your way.
- Marvelous.
Now that's something we can all drink to.
- Not that cup. (Anne gasps)
- [Anne] Oh my, it's dead.
How frightfully awful!
- What?
I'm saving it for later.
- To eat?
- No, to draw, of course.
- Oh, of course, silly old me, I thought...
Never mind.
- [Beatrix] Oh, little blighter!
- [Anne] I beg your pardon.
- Oh no, you don't. - What?
Beatrix, no, where are you going?
Where are you going?
'Cause we haven't actually finished.
Beatrix! (door thuds)
- You have been so kind.
- I was gonna say a problem shared is a problem halved,
but in your case, I think you've had more
than your fair share.
- Well, maybe I'm due some good luck then. (chuckles)
- Well, let's find out, shall we?
Sup up, and I'll take a look at what's coming for you.
- I don't, I don't understand. (laughs)
- I can read leaves, can't I,
see the future in your cup.
- (laughs) Okay.
- Come on then.
(Sofie slurping) Pass it over.
(quirky music)
- [Beatrix] Hey, you out there!
(dramatic music)
Can't you read?
No trespassers, it says!
- Oh, I see a journey.
And it looks likes it's going towards a,
a palm tree, I think.
Oh, so somewhere sunny.
(Sofie laughs)
- I doubt it,
unless you mean the next train to Cardiff. (chuckles)
- Oh, actually, now you say it,
it could be an umbrella.
- Mm, more like it. (laughs)
- And I see money,
lots of money.
- Going out or coming in.
- Oh, it doesn't say, sorry.
- Don't apologize.
That tea has done me more good
than anything the leaves could tell me.
(laughs) The truth is that we can never really know
what the future holds.
The only thing we can control is how we choose
to respond to it,
and I'm going to choose to be brave,
(sighs) to show my quiet, worried boy
that even after the longest, darkest nights,
there comes a new day,
even after the saddest, hardest year comes a fresh start.
Thank you, Dora.
- Hang on.
(suspenseful music)
There's one other thing.
That, that boy of yours,
he's going to be a writer,
a very famous writer.
- Is he, indeed?
- But he'll never have a beard.
(Sofie laughs)
- Now that I can believe.
Happy Christmas, Dora.
- Happy Christmas.
(solemn music)
(ethereal music) (wind whistling)
(ominous music) (Roald gasping)
- I know you're here,
you little hoodlum.
And you should know that I have set the dog loose,
and she's not had her dinner yet, either.
So I'd get gone if I were you.
(wood creaking)
(pot clatters)
(dramatic music)
(tense music)
(door thuds)
(tense music)
I'll find you, you nasty little gutter bug.
(tense music)
And we all know what happens to gutter bugs.
They get squashed!
(tense music)
Do you hear me?
Squashed!
(dramatic music)
- [Narrator] Oh, Mouse, now what to do?
Is this the end for you too?
There's a witch who won't stop till you're dead.
She's got you caught in a trap,
and there's no turnin' back.
There'd be nothing to lose, if you fled.
(tense music)
(Fleet barking)
(Fleet snarls)
(Roald gasps)
(Fleet barking) (tense music)
(gentle music)
(Fleet panting)
- Hello. (laughs)
(gentle music)
(Fleet whimpers)
Nice to meet you, too.
(Roald laughs)
Come on.
Boy. (Fleet barking)
(Roald laughing) (Fleet barking)
- I see you.
(Fleet barking) I see you,
you little blighter.
(Fleet barking) (Roald yells)
Trespassing is a criminal offense, you know.
And if the dog won't scare you off,
I'll just have to do it myself,
(Fleet barking)
when I catch you.
(Roald laughing)
(Roald yells)
(Roald thumps)
(Roald groans)
(ominous music)
(Beatrix grunts)
I told you to scram.
(Fleet whimpers)
Oh for goodness sake, dog,
what use are you, really?
Now off my property,
or you'll be going the same way
as the last trespasser around here.
(Roald sighs)
- Is it dead?
- What? This?
Yes, very.
- Did you kill it?
- No, the cat did.
- (sighs) Tom Kitten at it again.
- Might have been.
Doesn't it frighten you?
- Nope.
- Why not?
- Seen more frightening things than that.
- Like what?
(dramatic music)
- Rouge.
- Rouge?
What on earth is so frightening about rouge?
- Just looks strange when I saw it on Papa,
when they laid him out.
- Oh, I see.
(gentle music)
I take it he, uh, didn't wear rouge normally then?
- Not normally, no.
- So what did you do when you saw it, the rouge?
- Just closed my eyes, scrunched tight, like this.
(gentle music)
- Open them.
And if I were you, from now on,
I'd keep them open, always.
Don't miss a thing,
because when you're small,
you see it all from a different angle.
(dramatic music)
- Well, what happens when you get big?
(Beatrix sighs)
- Oh.
Well, you stop seeing everything so clearly,
and it all turns into a bit of a blur.
And then they make you wear spectacles,
and so you have to do your very best
to remember it all instead.
Luckily for me, I do.
I remember it all.
So what on earth are you doing here anyway?
- I've come to see Beatrix Potter.
- Well, there you go.
You've seen her now.
So you can buzz off.
Go on! Scram!
(gentle music)
Oh, hang on!
You've forgotten something!
(footsteps approaching) (gentle music)
(lips smacking)
(gentle music)
(Beatrix sighs)
- [Astri] And please, could you get Roald
a new Beatrix Potter book.
He's read me all his old ones so many times,
and I'd really like to hear something new for a change.
(door thuds) - Miss Landy.
I have a question to ask you.
- Please do.
- Have you actually read any of my books?
- Well, of course.
Like I said, huge fan.
- Good, well, then you will know
that the animals I write of may well look sweet.
They may well wear petticoats or bonnets
or little pale-blue jackets,
but the world they encounter is all too real,
just like the children who read my books.
- Why are you telling me this?
- Because we cannot shield children
from the realities of life,
nor do I choose to.
In my books, rabbits get caught by farmers
and baked into pies.
Hounds charge about and eat a duck's beloved eggs.
Rats sometimes even eat kittens,
or they certainly try to.
And so far, children have coped
with all of this and more perfectly well.
So thank you for your time.
But I've changed my mind.
The line stays as it is.
And I have it on great authority
that children have seen far worse than that.
(knife thuds) - Good heavens!
(playful music)
(Beatrix clears throat)
(animal snorting) (playful music)
Oh, my hat!
No!
Can't you stop her?
- Oh, you can try.
(Anne groaning)
Good heavens!
You put that down at once!
My hat, don't you eat that!
My hat!
Bad! Yuck!
(Beatrix laughs)
- So did you see her?
- I'm not sure.
It might've been her, or it might've been a witch.
- A witch?
I see, well, we best be going then,
before she comes back and turns us all into, what, toads?
- Not toads, mice.
- Yes, mice. Quickly, run!
(playful music)
- Mrs. Heelis? - Mm?
- We're taking the next lot of Herdwicks up
on the fell now, if you're free.
- I'll be right with you, Tom.
(gentle music)
So what's it to be?
- Fine.
Have it your way.
Cut off their tails.
- Excellent.
Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Landy.
(Beatrix sighs)
I trust you'll find your own way out.
- Thank you.
- You'll have a wonderful Christmas, won't you?
(door thuds)
(animals grunting)
(bright music)
So, Tom, imagine if one were to buy Troutbeck Farm.
- Not likely, Mrs. Heelis.
I've got enough on my hands trying to pay off Mrs. Tom's tab
at the Lamb and Flag, I'll be honest.
- All right, not one, I.
Imagine if I were to buy Troutbeck Farm.
- Then you'd own half of the lakes,
and you could do as you please with it, I'd imagine.
- Like get lots more Herdwicks?
- You'd have more sheep than they got
in the whole of London.
- Again, not really any sheep in London, Tom.
- Wouldn't know. Never been.
- Would you like to go?
It's only that you do mention it quite a bit.
- Me?
Go to London?
Not on your nelly!
- Then perhaps you'll just have
to look after Troutbeck Farm, for me, instead.
- Could do.
(clears throat) Could do!
(uplifting music)
- You go on. I'll catch you up.
(uplifting music)
- All right then.
- All right then what?
- I will go to that school.
At least then I'll have stories to tell you, won't I?
- Yes, Roald, you will,
lots and lots.
(bright music)
- [Narrator] Now little Mouse knew
this adventure was through,
but another was sure to begin,
for every mouse, great or small,
there's adventure for us all.
We just need the courage and support to jump in.
But keep in your mind,
there'll be troubling times
and days you're not covered in glory.
- [Mouse] Whee!
- [Narrator] Then take my advice.
Learn a lesson from Mouse.
Don't let the tragic kill all the magic.
Write your own story.
(door thuds) (William grunts)
(Sago quacking) (William gasping)
- That's it, Sago!
I give up.
You win.
Beatrix!
Beatrix, we're having cabbage for Christmas dinner, again.
(door thuds)
(Sago quacking)
(uplifting music)
- [Beatrix] We have eaten Sago.
It was rather dreadful,
and the stuffing disagreed with my conscience.
With love and best wishes for Christmas,
from your affectionate friend,
Beatrix Potter, Mrs. Heelis.
(uplifting music) (singer chanting)
(solemn digital music)
(energetic digital music) (electricity crackling)