Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day

Guinevere Pettigrew:
You people, with your green drinks and your parties and your subterfuges! You're all playing at love. One minute her, the next minute someone else, flit, flit, flit! We'll, I'm not playing. Love is not a game.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Not everything comes along just when we want it. There are times when decisions just have to be made, or you certainly will miss out.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
I have no one. I am not an expert on love, I am an expert on the lack of love, Delysia, and that is a fate from which I wish more fervently to save you.

Delysia Lafosse:
Phil's a theatre producer! Well, his father is. Phil's got his first show on at the Ambassador, and I've got the lead. Well, I'm pretty sure I have now. [Holds up lingerie and giggles]

Delysia Lafosse:
Men are so untrusting. I can't think why

Delysia Lafosse:
[After Guinevere confesses her 'pretending'] Guinevere, Sarah Grubb is not going to judge anybody for 'pretending'.

Michael:
One picks up a few tricks in prison, breaking and entering being one of them.

[After accidentally bumping into Guinevere after leaving prison, spilling open her suitcase]

Michael:
Oh, they'll have me back in prison for this.

[Guinevere flinches back in terror]

Michael:
Oh. Nothing serious. Well, when I say serious...

[Guinevere flees in terror]

Guinevere Pettigrew:
I'm afraid I walked in on your guest in his state of nature. I fear that I have outraged his sense of propriety.

Delysia:
Oh no, Phil doesn't have one of those.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
He's a much bigger boy than I had anticipated.

Delysia:
[giggles] Oh, you noticed that too.

Joe Blumfield:
That scarf, if I may say, looks perfect on you.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Well, thank you. It was a present. You know, I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever worn.

Joe Blumfield:
The flatterer has been out-flattered.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Sorry?

Joe Blumfield:
It's one of mine, the design. Last year, for Mimi Coture.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
[pleasantly surprised] My goodness!

Joe Blumfield:
[surprised and charmed] You really didn't know? Well that is a compliment indeed, madam, thank you.

[Discussing Michael's abortive proposal attempt to Delysia and the reasons behind his spell in prison]

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Dare I ask what happened?

Michael:
After an hour and a half of bobbing around on my own, I opened the champagne. One glass didn't seem enough, one thing led to another... then I had a bit of a brainwave as we floated past the Tower of London.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Oh, dear.

Michael:
Decided the ring I had wasn't good enough for her. And when a man wants a diamond, what better place to one than the Tower of London? Well, the rest is all a bit hazy...

[As younger partygoers cheer a squadron of bombers flying overhead]

Guinevere Pettigrew:
They don't remember the last one.

Joe Blumfield:
No. No, they don't.

Delysia:
Do you know what my name is, Guinevere?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
I was under the impression it was Delysia Lafosse.

Delysia:
Sarah Grubb. One of the Pittsburg Grubbs. My father is a steelworker. No one else in the world knows that apart from Michael. And he doesn't judge me.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
No, he wouldn't.

Delysia:
But you do.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Me? I certainly do not.

Delysia:
Oh, you think you don't, but you do. For all the fancy apartments and fashion shows, do you know how close I am to having nothing? Every day I wake up and I think, if I make the wrong move, I could be out on that street with no clothes, no food, no job, and no friends. Just plain old Sarah Grubb again. Do you know what that's like?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Yes, I do.

Delysia:
You do?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
In that, at least, we are alike.

[Whilst dancing]

Joe Blumfield:
Are you all right?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
: Yes. Well, to take another woman's escort.

Joe Blumfield:
: You didn't take me. I took you. I'm sure Edythe can cope. What happened to that particularly beautiful scarf you were wearing at the fashion show?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
: What are you talking about?

Joe Blumfield:
: Despite your most elegant transformation, the body is still the same.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
: Mr. Blumfield!

Joe Blumfield:
: As are the eyes. Most fetching if I may say.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
[Flattered but prim] I'm not sure you should say.

Joe Blumfield:
I'm sorry; an occupational habit. A bad one. I have to remember you're not like these people.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Am I terribly old fashioned?

Joe Blumfield:
Indeed you are. And all the better for it.

[During an air-raid drill]

Delysia:
Guinevere, I'm scared!

Guinevere Pettigrew:
It's just a drill, I'm sure it's just a drill.

Delysia:
But it won't always be, will it? We're going to war, aren't we?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Yes we are. And that is why you must not waste a second of this precious life. Listen to me. Once I too had ambitions. Not your grand ones, simple ambitions. Marriage, children and a house of our own. He died, in the mud in France. A good, solid man. You would call him dull, no doubt, but he smiled whenever he saw me and we could've built a life on that. Your heart knows the truth, Delysia. Trust it.

[Watching air-raid spotlights being tested; regarding the oncoming war and the previous one]

Guinevere Pettigrew:
I don't think I can bear it again.

Joe Blumfield:
Did you lose many?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
Just one. You?

Joe Blumfield:
Almost every school friend I had. One tries to forget.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
If only one could.

Joe Blumfield:
You know, I've distracted myself with ridiculous things; youth, parties, lingerie. I mean, I trained in socks for goodness sake.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
[Amused] Socks?

Joe Blumfield:
[Mock affront] There's a great deal of engineering in a gentlemen's sock, I'll have you know. In the stitching of the heel. By comparison, designing a brassiere is a piece of cake. Not that there aren't compensations.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
None of them over 20, I imagine.

Joe Blumfield:
And all very easy on the eyes. But you know what? I'm done with it. I'm going back to gentlemen's hosiery. You know where you are with an honest pair of socks.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
You certainly do.

[As Delysia prepares to leave for New York]

Guinevere Pettigrew:
I will never forget the day we spent together. Not ever.

Delysia:
Nor I... Oh, goodbye Guinevere, I love you!

[After Joe and Guinevere are reunited]

Joe Blumfield:
: Am I right in thinking you're no longer employed, Miss Pettigrew?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
: Quite correct.

Joe Blumfield:
: So you're free?

Guinevere Pettigrew:
: Quite free. Might you be looking for a social secretary?

Joe Blumfield:
: No, absolutely not.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
: Oh.

Joe Blumfield:
: I'm looking for you. I've been looking for you all night, and I believe, all of my life. If you'll have me.

[Miss Pettigrew is stunned into silence]

Joe Blumfield:
: A nod of the head will do me fine.

[Miss Pettigrew nods]

Joe Blumfield:
: And I am, at a stroke, the happiest man in London.

Edythe:
[coming out the back door of the club] Told you about Gerry, has she? Didn't take you long to move on, hmm Joe?

Joe Blumfield:
Hello Edythe.

Edythe:
Did she also tell you that she hangs around the soup kitchen at the station? A tramp masquerading as some sort of social secretary, my God.

Guinevere Pettigrew:
[slightly embarassed] Goodbye Mr. Blumfield. [goes back inside]

Joe Blumfield:
[standing, buttoning his jacket] No, actually, she didn't. Neither about that, nor about you and Gerry. But I'm grateful for the truth for a change.