ISABEL: This is the story of my family.
Me, my three beautiful children and my husband.
There is our lovely farm.
It's been in my husband's family for generations.
The sad thing is, my husband is away, fighting in a war,
so we're on our own.
We're all terribly worried about him, of course,
but on the whole, I'm coping well.
Very well.
Very well, indeed.
No fighting in the best parlour!
That's me, coping.
Lemon drop. (BLOWING RASPBERRY)
ISABEL: That's very naughty of you.
They're coping, too.
Get off the furniture! Vincent, off, off, off!
- VINCENT: They started it. - Get off the furniture!
We're all coping. We're fine.
- You're on the furniture! - You're on the furniture!
We're fine.
Then stop shouting!
We're not shouting. You're shouting.
We are supposed to be getting the farm spic-and-span
before the cousins arrive tomorrow.
And instead, all you're doing is fighting, fighting, fighting,
when what I want to be seeing is sharing, sharing, sharing.
Imagine how sad you'd be if you had to be taken away from home
because of bombs dropping all over the place.
- We're not sharing the jam with them. - What?
We're not sharing Dad's jam with the cousins.
Oh, no, of course not. That's for Dad when he comes home.
I'm talking about your room and your toys.
Why won't he reply to my letter?
We're not talking about Dad, darling.
But why won't he reply? His last one came years ago.
No, darling.
Look.
Three months ago, that's all.
You see?
(SIGHING) Dad's in the Army. They move him about a lot, that's all it is.
There is nothing to worry about, all right?
(ISABEL KISSES)
Now, I've got to run,
but you've got to clean up the farm for the cousins.
What are they actually like, the cousins?
They're city children, and I imagine they're rather refined.
And I am sure
that they are very well-behaved.
(VOMITING)
Blenkinsop, he's vomming again.
Stop the car. He's vommed all over my shoes!
It's all right, Blenkinsop. Stopped now.
Where are my marshmallows?
Master Cyril, are them marshmallows a wise choice,
given your recent evacuation?
Marshmallows are always a wise choice, thanks.
You beast!
You've ruined my brand-new Fontarelli patent-leather pumps,
and I've left the pale pink at home.
You beast, beast, beast!
Oh, look.
How sweetly pretty. Is that the place?
No.
(ROOSTER CROWING)
(MOOING)
(BALLAD PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE)
(WHIRRING)
(BELL RINGING)
(SQUEALING HAPPILY)
(TINKLING)
NORMAN: Vincent, chores, now.
VINCENT: But the piglets are getting sold tomorrow,
and you said I could scratch them before they went away.
Dad left me in charge, and what I say goes. Now, get off.
But Dad built the Scratch-o-Matic for them.
- I said, get off! - I'm getting off. I'm getting off.
And no more scratching. I'm going to check the barley.
(SQUEALING)
(EXCLAIMING UNHAPPILY)
(CHIRPING)
Hello.
(BURPING)
Shoo.
- How is my gorgeous sister-in-law? - No.
Your coat's inside out. Nylons you need with that skirt.
- No. - No? No what?
You know perfectly well. "No what?" I'm not selling.
Isabel, look at me. Look at me.
- Who am I? Who am I? - You're my brother-in-law.
I'm family, Iz, is all I'm pointing out, and that's why you can trust me.
All right, Phil. What's your point?
Iz, we need to sell the farm, now.
You haven't even got enough money for tomorrow's payment on the tractor,
and if there's no tractor, there's no harvest.
If there's no harvest, the farm will fail.
I said no.
And actually, Norman's thought of a way to get some money,
so I will make the payment on the tractor.
- Has he, indeed? What way would that be? - I'm in a hurry, Phil.
Isabel, I can't point it out enough that I need the money.
I'm only human, but that farm is half...
Half Rory's and half yours. Yes, yes, I know.
I know, because you tell me every time I see you.
But you can't sell it without my permission,
and I do not give my permission!
- But Izzy, I've got the contract right here. - Goodbye, Phil.
(EXCLAIMS IN FRUSTRATION)
I'm here. I'm here. Mrs Docherty, don't start without me.
Mrs Docherty?
Hello. Oh.
Oh.
There you are. I was so worried.
Oh, you worry too much, and it doesn't help.
It's just that you have been a bit forgetful, that's all.
Now, you... You look after the shop.
I'll put away the deliveries.
Oh, I was managing perfectly.
You haven't started unpacking, have you?
Unpacking? Where?
All right.
I was just putting the flour away.
(COUGHING)
It's gotten foggy.
Could you pass me the scoop?
TOPSEY: Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!
Yoo-hoo!
Good morning, Mr Green. We haven't had the pleasure.
But I am Miss Topsey and this is my colleague, Miss Turvey.
Charmed.
TOPSEY: Can you guess who sent us?
Sent two lovely ladies such as yourselves? Father Christmas?
Are you flirting with us, Phil?
(BOTH PURRING)
Oh, I can call you Phil, can I?
You can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.
(LAUGHS) Don't be so naughty.
(BOTH GIGGLING)
Mrs Biggles won't like it.
Mrs Big says you owe her.
You ran up a big fat debt in one of her riverside casinos.
See what you've gambled away, Phil?
(PHIL SHOUTS)
TOPSEY: "I.O.U. One farm."
- Where is your farm, Phil? - I like farms.
We've come to get it.
And I respect that, ladies, and, yeah, you'll get it. You'll get it.
And Mrs Biggles has nothing to worry about.
I can fix it. I am fixing it.
Please, don't hurt me.
(GASPING) We don't want to hurt you, Phil.
The fact is, Mrs Big has told us to come back with one of two things,
- the deeds to your farm... - (EXCLAIMS SOFTLY)
Or your kidneys.
(TOPSEY AND TURVEY CHUCKLING)
(SIGHING)
Not ripe yet, then, old son?
Uncle Phil, where did you come from?
Oh, just on me way home.
Be ripe in a few days, I reckon.
Must be very proud.
Your mum told me all about your idea to pay for the tractor.
What on earth made you think of that, then?
Well, I saw Farmer Macreadie at the shop,
and he said he was looking to buy some Gloucestershire Old Spots.
Huh?
- Pigs. - I knew that.
So when I offered to sell him our piglets, he jumped at it.
Clever.
Very clever.
- (ENGINE STARTING) - (PHIL EXCLAIMING)
(TRACTOR RUMBLING)
Come on.
Feed it through. That's it.
Feed it through.
Come on, Phil, think.
Think, think, think, think.
Piglets.
Got to get rid of the piglets. Got to get rid of the piglets.
No piglets, no tractor. Then she'll have to sell the farm.
(HORN HONKING)
Look.
Cor! Look at that.
Is that a motorcar?
It must be the cousins.
It can't be the cousins. They're not due till tomorrow.
VINCENT: Do you think they've brought sweets?
MEGSIE: They must be so rich.
They've got a chauffeur.
(SIGHS)
Where are we?
We're in the Land of Poo.
Duck poo, hen poo, cow poo, goat poo.
Poo as far as the eye can see.
Here we are, then. Out you get.
In fact, it's the British Museum of Poo.
Have you gone completely insane, Blenkinsop?
Mummy would never send me to a place like this. Take me home.
(WINDOW SQUEAKING)
(CELIA SCREAMING)
You see? There are savages. I refuse to leave the car.
Oh, put a sock in it, Ceels. We've got no choice.
Take me home, right now!
And you know why we've got no choice, too,
so let's just stop pretending we're here because of bombs.
CELIA: They're probably cannibals. Did you see that thing at the window?
Greetings, O covered-in-poo people.
- Do you speak English? - You're early.
Yes, poo-man, we have come from far away.
Far, from the land of soap and indoor toilets.
Is that a Fry's chocolate bar with cinder-crunch topping?
Yes, it is. Would you like some?
Pity, there's none left.
BLENKINSOP: Come on, Miss Celia. CELIA: Please, Blenkinsop!
- That's rotten. - CYRIL: That's life.
- CELIA: I'll tell Mummy! - Now, don't be like that, Miss Celia.
Let go!
- Let go of the drinks cabinet, Miss Celia! - No!
Look here, mister.
I think you'd better take these two great perfumed townies
- back where they belong. - I just want to go home!
(EXCLAIMING)
CELIA: This place is awful. It's an awful place.
(GIGGLING)
(EXCLAIMING IN HORROR) My shoes!
I refuse to stay in this cesspit.
I'd rather be bombed.
Promise me you'll tell Mummy how awful it is here.
Please, Blenkinsop, she's got to come get me tomorrow.
Promise me!
You've only been here for five minutes, and look at you.
- And you're just a chauffeur. - Master Cyril, if you'd be so kind,
just hold your arms out for Miss Celia's new clothes.
Promise me!
I'll talk to your mother, Miss Celia, I promise.
- But for now, you'll have to stay here. - They can't stay here. They're rude.
CYRIL: That's rich, coming from someone
who clearly doesn't even know how to wipe his own bottom.
NORMAN: Come here, you. CELIA: Stop!
Stop! My clothes. My beautiful new clothes.
(CELIA GASPING)
They're all in the mud. How dare you!
You're trampling them.
- I should have enlisted. - CELIA: You wait until I tell my mother.
My beautiful clothes.
They're ruined.
(SCREAMING)
I'm in hell!
You monsters, I'll kill you for this.
Well, that's me off, Mrs Docherty.
I've just enough time to get home and finish tidying
before the cousins arrive tomorrow.
Oh, that's nice, dear.
All my cousins are dead.
- Good night. - Good night.
- Give my love to Mr Docherty. - I will.
There's that finished, then.
What?
I've just put away the treacle.
What? Where?
It's all done and dusted. There's absolutely nothing to worry about.
Oh, have a little faith, why don't you?
(HUMMING)
(DRAWER RUMBLING)
(TREACLE BUBBLING)
Oh.
"Have a little faith," she says.
"Nothing to worry about," she says. Oh, no, no, nothing at all.
Children at each other's throats,
tractor about to be repossessed,
Phil trying to sell the farm out from under us,
guests coming in 24 hours,
my only good coat, ruined,
and 17 drawers full of treacle!
WOMAN 1: The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
(CAWING)
MAN 1: The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
Nanny McWho?
MAN 2: Nanny McPhee MAN 3: Nanny McPhee
MAN 4: Nanny McPhee
CHILD: The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
MAN 1: The person you need... WOMAN 2: Is Nanny McPhee.
WOMAN 3: The person you need... MAN 2: Is Nanny McPhee.
ALL: (CHANTING) The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
The person you need, the person you need...
The person you need, the person you need, the person you need...
CHILD: Is Nanny McPhee.
Ugh. What a surprise.
Not only do they behave like animals, they live like animals.
I'm covered in poo.
Good news. You'll fit right in.
There's bugger-all to eat in here,
except this.
- NORMAN: No! - Dad's jam!
Put the jam down.
(SCOFFS) It's only jam.
In case you hadn't noticed, there's a war on.
We saved our sugar coupons for months to make that jam.
You touch it, and I'll mash you.
Whoops.
Touched it.
I'm going to wake up and this will all be a nasty dream.
I'm going to wake up, and I'll be in Harrods with Mummy.
The shoe department.
My maid tells me they have arrived, so Mummy and I have come to collect them.
Would you go and fetch them for me?
I'm going to wake up, and there'll be some pink patent pumps.
Ceels, catch.
CELIA: Mummy's already ordered a beautiful pair
in mauve with a matching cloak, and I gather they will be here today.
That's it.
They die.
(CYRIL EXCLAIMING)
MEGSIE: Catch them!
(SCREAMING)
NORMAN: Come back!
WOMAN: (WHISPERING) The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
MAN: (WHISPERING) The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
WOMAN: (WHISPERING) The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
Nanny McPhee.
(CREAKING)
(CAWING)
(CREAKING)
(SCREAMING) No!
- Come here, you coward. - Norman, Cyril.
- CYRIL: (CHOKING) Hello... - Hello, dear.
...Aunt Isabel.
NORMAN: Come back here, you big... ISABEL: How's your mother?
Death, death and hurting!
MEGSIE: You lace-covered...
CYRIL: Don't you call me names, you peasant.
- Celia, is that you? - You've ruined my clothes,
so I'm going to ruin your hair!
What a lovely frock.
(BANGING ON DOOR)
Oh! What now? I'm coming.
I'm coming.
(THUNDER CLAPPING)
- Isabel. - Not now, Phil.
I was wondering, when you say, "No,"
- do you really mean no? - Now is not a good time.
I could come back in 10 minutes. Five, three, two?
I think I should boil you all an egg.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
For goodness' sake, Phil, go away.
I... Go...
(THUNDER CLAPPING)
Good evening, Mrs Green.
I am Nanny McPhee.
Oh, you're it? I mean, her? I mean...
Who are you?
I am Nanny McPhee.
Small "C," big "P."
Right, right. Thing is, I haven't hired a nanny.
I don't need a nanny. I'm managing perfectly well.
I have never had a nanny because I don't want a nanny.
I am an Army nanny, Mrs Green. I have been deployed.
No, no, no, no. There must be some mistake.
- Everything's under control here. - Get away from me, you oik from hell.
That's Cyril. He's not one of mine.
- NORMAN: I'm not finished with you yet. - He's their cousin.
- Come back here, you parasitic poshie! - And that's Norman.
Get your filthy hands off me.
He is mine. They've just met.
Horrible, horrible.
They're getting to know each other through play.
VINCENT: Kill the townies and eat their heads!
ISABEL: Oh, it's the war.
It's not a very good influence.
Indeed.
- May I come in? - Must you?
I mean, yes. Yes, of course, you must.
- Tea? - Perhaps later.
Let me introduce myself to the children.
No, wait.
McPHEE: Why don't you put the kettle on?
I shan't be a moment.
(CHILDREN SHOUTING)
MEGSIE: You can't stop me. CELIA: Let go!
(CELIA SHOUTING)
- Mark my words. - Die! Kill!
CELIA: Put me down!
You're just jealous of my fashion sense!
CYRIL: Get your hands off my suit! It's Savile Row.
Please, may I have your attention?
(CELIA SCREAMING)
Ow! Ow!
I am Nanny McPhee.
(GROANING IN DISGUST)
Ow!
Die!
Please, listen carefully.
You are all to stop what you are doing and go upstairs to bed.
NORMAN: You look like a banana! CYRIL: You look like an unravelled toilet roll.
Did you hear what I said?
VINCENT: Squash. Squish.
- You are to stop fighting. - MEGSIE: Get off me.
Immediately.
CYRIL: My father's very high up in the War Office.
- Hmm. - NORMAN: Did he ever teach you this?
(CREAKING)
Was that supposed to impress us?
(EXCLAIMING SOFTLY)
What's happening?
(LAUGHING)
Ow.
Ow!
MEGSIE: No, not me, too.
MEGSIE: Ow!
Oh, no!
Vincent, stop!
I can't stop. It's making me do it!
NORMAN: It's her!
- CYRIL: What? - She's making us do it. Ow!
- He's right. - What are you talking about?
It must be that stick!
It can't be anything else. (SCREAMING) Stop us!
Stop us, please.
- Please. - Please.
On one condition,
that you apologise for hurting each other and promise to stop
fighting.
MEGSIE: Apologise?
- I'm not apologising to them! - CELIA: Well, I'm not apologising to them!
- You broke the jam. - CYRIL: They should apologise to us.
CELIA: Technically, it was Cyril who broke the jam.
VINCENT: Oh, no!
NORMAN: What's happening, Vinnie?
VINCENT: Dad's letters!
They're going to get burnt.
Keep away from them!
I can't, it's making me! Please!
All right, we'll apologise.
I'm sorry I hit you with the fire-tongs, Celia,
and I promise not to do it again.
Me, too, I'm sorry!
Sorry, Cyril!
Celia, please, it's our dad's letters!
All right, I apologise. I'm sorry.
- Cyril! - NORMAN: Apologise!
VINCENT: Please, the letters!
- Cyril! - CELIA: Apologise.
MEGSIE: Cyril. CELIA: Say you're sorry.
MEGSIE: Say it. NORMAN: Say you're sorry, please!
All right, all right. I'm sorry.
VINCENT: Help!
(CAWING)
What are you doing here, Mr Edelweiss?
You naughty bird.
Tiresome creature.
If you're trying to impress me, it's not working.
Get off.
(CAWING)
No.
You are still not forgiven.
You know what you did.
It is rude to stare.
Upstairs to bed, please.
Good night, Mum.
- Good night, Aunt Isabel. - Good night, Aunt Isabel.
I do hope you sleep well.
Oh.
Vincent, would you please put those back where they belong?
VINCENT: Ooh!
(VINCENT GASPING)
(VINCENT EXCLAIMS)
- Thank you, Nanny McPhee. - You're welcome.
Off you go.
(CAWS)
(SHUSHING)
(CAWING SADLY)
And make yourself scarce.
Go on.
Shoo!
These children require five lessons, Mrs Green.
Lesson one, to stop fighting, is complete.
They've stopped fighting?
Mmm.
Early beds tonight, I think.
Leave it to me.
You should be able to have a little time to yourself.
Time to myself?
Mmm.
ISABEL: (INCREDULOUSLY) Time to myself?
CELIA: She's coming.
We're not fighting.
I can see that, Vincent. Thank you.
Look, I don't know how all that happened downstairs,
but I'm in charge here, and I don't need some nanny to help.
CYRIL: My sister and I aren't even part of this family,
so whomever you've come to look after, it certainly isn't us.
Listen to me very carefully.
I am going to explain to you the way I work.
When you need me but do not want me,
then I must stay.
When you want me but no longer need me,
then I have to go.
How could anyone possibly want you?
Well, it's an odd thought, I grant you, but there it is.
Now, to business. In the absence of any spare beds,
Norman, I presume, will be sharing with Cyril?
(SCOFFING) I'd rather share with a goat.
A goat wouldn't have you, and neither will I.
I see.
Celia, Megsie, would you be willing to share a bed?
I'm not sharing anything with that vicious harpy.
- I'd rather share with Geraldine. - She's our cow.
And I'd rather share with an elephant.
Thank you, Vincent, but you will not be required to share.
Ha ha. I don't have to share. I don't have to share.
The rest of you, however, will have to come to some agreement.
- Never. - Never.
Never!
(STICK BANGS)
Hmm.
(SNIFFING)
Ew!
(EXCLAIMS IN DISGUST)
(FARTING)
Oh. I am so sorry. (CLEARING THROAT) I do beg your pardon.
Oh!
How are they managing?
You must be exhausted. Do sit down. I'm making some tea.
Sorry, I haven't got any biscuits. No one's got any biscuits, you know that.
(SQUEALING SOFTLY)
Are they all right up there? Are they sharing?
Yes, they're sharing very nicely.
Indeed, they came up with all the arrangements
for themselves.
But that's a miracle.
What did you...
How on earth did you do it?
I'm afraid that's classified information, Mrs Green.
The Army is very strict about such matters.
- Oh, yes, yes, of course. - (ELEPHANT SQUEALS)
(MURMURING)
Tea.
Can you believe it? I haven't even a plain old biscuit to offer you.
I'm so sorry.
No, you're not leaving us, are you?
Certainly not.
(SIGHING) Thank goodness.
These children need me.
The thing is, I can't afford to pay you at the moment,
- but... - Do not concern yourself, Mrs Green.
The Army remunerates me,
and I have arranged my own accommodation.
(LAUGHING) Oh!
Good night, Mrs Green. Enjoy your tea.
MEGSIE: Move over. Your hoof's in my ear.
CELIA: I haven't got hooves. MEGSIE: Not you, you idiot. Geraldine.
(GERALDINE MOOING)
CYRIL: What is that perfectly frightful stench?
NORMAN: It's the goat, you fool.
CYRIL: (NASALLY) This is that ghastly nanny's doing. I know it is.
VINCENT: Would you like a pillow, Little Elly?
(ELEPHANT SQUEALING)
You're a bit big for this bed,
but I don't mind.
MEGSIE: Geraldine, you're not cooperating. Cooperate.
(GERALDINE MOOING)
Just go to sleep.
(SCREAMING)
Calm yourself.
Are you Mrs Biggles?
I am Nanny McPhee. Small "C," big "P."
Good evening.
Right.
(GERALDINE SNORING)
(CHILDREN SNORING)
(GOAT BLEATING)
(VINCENT YAWNING)
(ELLY GRUNTING)
(EXHALING)
Oh, my darling.
(SIGHING) Where are you?
All right.
Piglets. Piglets,
come here.
(MIMICKING PIG GRUNTING)
Piggies.
(SQUEALING)
Piglets. Piglets!
(MIMICKING PIG GRUNTING)
Hello.
(MUFFLED GRUNTING)
Off you go, piglet. That's it.
(PIGLETS GRUNTING)
Once you're gone, I'll get the farm.
(McPHEE BLOWING HORN)
(BLOWS OFF-KEY)
Hmm.
Rise and shine.
Beds made, nice neat hospital corners, if you please,
downstairs for breakfast, at the double.
My elephant's gone.
CYRIL: May I just say, it's typical of this family to have hired a nanny
with a face that could win the war, hands down.
We've not hired her, and she's not our nanny.
MEGSIE: Who is she, then?
And how did she make us do all those things?
I have a theory.
She's a secret weapon.
Definitely.
My father is very high up in the War Office, so I know about these things.
I suspect that that stick of hers
releases some sort of odourless chemical when she bangs it.
To put it simply, she gassed us.
Don't be daft.
That can't possibly be legal.
I am pleased to report, Mrs Green, that lesson two,
to share nicely, is complete.
Oh, that's wonderful.
- Is that you, Cyril? - It is.
Good morning, darling. Why are you wearing a gas mask?
- In case of a gas attack, Aunt Isabel. - ISABEL: A gas...
I don't think there's going to be a gas attack in this part of the country, darling.
That's why your parents sent you here.
Poor thing. London must be worse than I thought.
Mmm.
- Where's Celia, dear? - Looking for something to wear.
Oh, yes, (SIGHING) I am so sorry.
Your mother will never forgive me.
Oh, don't tell me that's cheesecloth.
(EXHALING IN DISGUST)
Horrid, ugly, shapeless.
Ugh.
Don't forget, Norman, Farmer Macreadie is coming for the piglets at noon.
I'll be back in time for that. I've got to run.
There's a delivery of mouse traps at the shop.
I've got to get to them before Mrs Docherty...
(WINDOW CLINKING)
For heaven's sake.
(SQUAWKS)
- I'll see you outside. - Hmm?
(BURPING)
Oh! Don't be so disgusting.
You have wind because you have collywobbles,
and you have the collywobbles because you have been eating window putty.
I'm not interested, Mr Edelweiss.
All the piglets have gone?
Yes, that is interesting,
very interesting.
Hmm.
MEGSIE: That's that done.
Right. Chores.
Megs, feed Geraldine.
I'll get the piglets ready for Farmer Macreadie.
Vinnie's collecting the eggs.
Cyril, you can sweep up the dung.
I'd love to sweep up the dung.
It's almost my favourite activity,
but sadly, I've left my dung-sweepers at home.
- Perhaps Celia could... - I'm coming back for you.
What are you wearing?
I think it's mostly tulle.
(GASPING)
That's my mother's wedding dress.
No, this old thing? It can't be. It hasn't even got a train.
Take it off.
I will do no such thing. You've ruined all my clothes,
and this is the only decent thing in the house.
You've stolen that from our mother's room. Take it off!
- I haven't stolen it, I've borrowed it. - VINCENT: Megsie!
- The piglets have escaped. - What?
- There's a hole! - VINCENT: They're all gone!
We've got to find them before Farmer Macreadie comes.
- Come on, Norman. - Move.
- You can't be serious. - Listen, they're prize piglets.
The money we get for them pays this month's tractor hire.
And if we lose the tractor, we lose the harvest,
and if we lose the harvest, we'll lose the whole farm.
How frightful for you.
Please! This is our dad's farm, and the harvest is everything.
No, you can't make me.
And you can't make me, either.
I've got my gas mask on, so that stick of yours won't work.
Furthermore, I'm going to report you to my father,
who is very high up in the War Office.
NORMAN: There's no time for this.
What if it was your dad's farm? You would help then, wouldn't you?
McPHEE: Would you, Cyril? Hmm?
Help your father?
Blast you all.
(EXHALING)
Oh, no, no, no. I can't possibly run in these heels.
Don't you dare gas me.
Oh.
(PANTING)
There's one.
- What are you doing here? - Just helping.
Well, come on, if you're coming.
(SHUSHING)
Come on, come on.
(GRUNTING)
CELIA: I'm only helping till Mummy comes.
VINCENT: Catch it! CELIA: Pig, heel.
(ALL EXCLAIMING)
CELIA: I've got one! I've got one! VINCENT: Careful it doesn't bite.
(WHISPERING) Right, take it slowly.
They've caught two already?
That will never do.
(SCOFFS)
Well, we don't want to make it too easy for them.
NORMAN: Hey!
CYRIL: What on earth's it doing?
(BOTH LAUGHING)
NORMAN: Blimey!
(CHUCKLES)
- Is that normal? - No, it's not.
CYRIL: I had no idea country life could be quite so entertaining.
VINCENT: Oh, no. Come back, piggy!
MEGSIE: Pig, come back!
Come back!
No, pig!
(INHALES SHARPLY)
(EXCLAIMS)
(ALL LAUGHING)
Did you know? I had no idea pigs could swim so stylishly.
MEGSIE: They can't.
(ALL GIGGLING)
MEGSIE: After them.
Ahoy there, Phil.
Hello, Farmer Macreadie.
Whoa, there. Whoa. Whoa.
Sorry to hear about the piglets.
Piglets? What, my piglets?
Yeah, haven't you heard? They've gone, disappeared in the night. Escaped.
Escaped?
Dear, oh, dear. What a shame.
Dreadful thing.
Escaped, eh?
Funny things, pigs. Clever.
I knew a pig once who could play Scrabble.
Tapped out the words with its trotter.
"Sty." Good score. Dear, oh, dear.
Isabel will be in a right old tizzy, I should think.
Well, thanks for letting me know, Phil. You saved me a journey.
Bye, then.
Wait up, there.
One good turn deserves another. I'll give you a ride up there.
Oh, no, no, no, no. No, no, I'll walk.
- Jump in. - No, I'm good, thanks.
- It's no bother. - Turn around.
- Don't be daft. - Cheerio.
- Go on, now. Up you jump. - Shoo. No, please.
- Come on. - All right.
(SIGHING)
(CHILDREN PANTING)
I don't know how we're ever going to catch them.
They're getting sold in half an hour.
If I may suggest, we need to use strategy, tactics, a proper movement order.
And you were trained where, exactly?
Cadet school.
- Oh. Fair enough. Go on, then. - Right.
Now, we're here and they're there, there, there and possibly over there.
- Megsie? - Ready.
- Celia? - Ready.
(WHISTLES)
(SQUEALING)
(BOTH MOUTHING)
- Three. - Two.
One.
ISABEL: They've dug a hole.
- Where are the piglets, Isabel? - Oh, they've gone.
- Oh, no! - Every single one of them.
- Piggy. Oink, oink. - ISABEL: Gone.
What will we do?
They maybe got wind of the move, Mrs Green.
- Clever things, are pigs. - Very clever.
How will we pay for the tractor? How will we get the harvest in?
I'll try and help if I can, Mrs Green,
but I've got me hands full with my wheat,
- and what with my boys off fighting... - Terrible thing, war.
Curse these flat feet.
I'm sorry you've had a wasted journey.
Oh, no, not to worry.
Good luck.
I know. They're hiding.
Isabel, sign it. I have a buyer today. I might not have a buyer tomorrow.
It won't be so bad. Think about it, Iz,
no more worrying about tractors or harvests or...
MACREADIE: Pigs!
Pigs!
(PIGLETS SQUEALING)
Children.
(CHATTERING)
- Look. - Hoorah!
Right, then. What have we got here? One, two, three, four and five.
- You got the whole pride. - ISABEL: Did you get all of them?
These piglets are funny things.
CELIA: We got all of them. Yes, all of them.
ISABEL: All of them. You did? NORMAN: I couldn't believe my eyes.
(ALL CHATTERING)
MACREADIE: Right, there you are.
ISABEL: Tractor money.
NORMAN: And then, he did a somersault. MACREADIE: Somersault?
VINCENT: I didn't know you could swim.
They're worth a lot more than that, you know.
These piglets are geniuses.
They can do synchronised swimming.
ISABEL: We do not tell fibs in this house.
- MEGSIE: They really did. - Megsie.
But they did do synchronised swimming.
- That's enough, Megsie. Shush! - VINCENT: It's true.
They can climb trees.
Stop telling fibs. Pigs don't climb trees.
- Stop being so silly. - But we're not!
He's only trying to get a bit more for them, and quite right, too.
Clever things, are pigs.
(LAUGHING)
Thank you.
All right, come on.
I knew a pig once, could count to 10 in French.
- Really? - No.
ISABEL: Come on, let's go.
- Look here. - MACREADIE: Synchronised swimming.
- Climbing trees? The very idea. - It was climbing trees.
It was... It was true.
It was true. It was like...
- They were climbing trees. - A pirouette.
It was like magic.
Yes.
- Like... - Magic.
Synchronised swimming.
(LAUGHS)
I'm so proud of you. Let me hug you.
Is that...
Is that my wedding dress?
It was our fault.
- We spoiled Celia's... - No, it's my fault.
I borrowed it without asking.
I didn't mean to chase the piglets in it. I'm terribly sorry.
- Where's the veil? - We used it to catch the piglets.
CYRIL: It's here.
It was my fault, I'm afraid. We needed a net.
Sorry.
Well, I never...
How clever you all are.
I'll tell you what. Tomorrow, we'll jolly well have a picnic,
and after I've paid up the tractor, we'll use the extra pennies for ginger beer.
- Hooray! - Hooray!
Ginger beer? Ginger beer?
Lesson three, to help each other, is complete.
(SQUEALING)
(EXHALING)
Clever things, pigs.
(CLICKING TONGUE)
VINCENT: Bye-bye, Pillow. Bye-bye, Dora.
Bye-bye, piggies.
(CAR HONKING)
Mummy!
Look, it's Mummy. See, I told you she'd come.
Ceels, don't.
Mummy, you'll never guess. We just rescued some little pigs.
They were dancing and...
Where's Mummy?
Her Ladyship's still in London, Miss Celia.
- But did you give her my message? - I did, Miss Celia.
Has she sent you to bring me home?
Regretfully not, Miss Celia.
My only instructions was to bring the pumps you left behind.
Fontarelli, I believe.
I suppose she's very busy.
That's right, Miss.
She's very, very busy.
What are you gawking at? We're not some freak show, you know.
- Cyril, we didn't mean to be... - Get away!
You don't know anything about us.
(INHALING SHARPLY) Hmm.
I don't want them.
Can I look at them?
(GASPING SOFTLY)
I don't care for them. You can have them, if you want.
These are my best, but you can have them for everyday.
(BIG BAND MUSIC PLAYING)
(CHILDREN LAUGHING)
You're it!
NORMAN: I'm gonna get you for that, Vinnie! You're it!
ISABEL: Come and pass around these buns we made.
(GIGGLING)
Not yet. Not yet.
Oh, look, Mr Docherty, how thoughtful.
They've put out cushions.
You see, Mrs Docherty, I regret to inform you
that's a cow pat, not a cushion.
Oh.
Can't I sit on it anyway? It looks so comfortable.
MR DOCHERTY: Oh.
- There we are. - Um...
- Can you help me down? Thank you. - There.
(SQUISHING)
Yes, it's very comfy.
You going to sit down? There we are.
Would you like a bun, Nanny McPhee?
I think I better not. Thank you.
(EDELWEISS BURPING)
Oh, for heaven's sake. Get away with you, Mr Edelweiss.
You revolting bird.
Get off. I don't want you there.
What's he done to make you so cross with him?
He eats inappropriate substances.
(BURPS)
- I'm so sorry. - Such as?
Such as window putty.
(CONTINUES BURPING)
Window putty?
Such as the window putty in every single one of my window panes,
which all fell out at once.
- Oh, please. - That's bad.
I don't care how much you love it, you deplorable creature. It is a nasty habit.
What are all your medals for, Nanny McPhee?
(EDELWEISS HICCUPS)
Courage, kindness, resolve,
imagination, enthusiasm, basket-work
and leaps of faith.
- ISABEL: Sandwiches! - CHILDREN: Hooray!
MR DOCHERTY: In my... (CLEARING THROAT)
In my capacity as warden, Mrs Green,
might I suggest that you provide the family with protective head gear
in case of bombs dropping all of a sudden?
Mrs Docherty and I wear these at home.
I don't think bombs are going to drop in this part of the country, Mr Docherty.
We're in the middle of nowhere.
Well, that is where you're possibly, even tragically, mistaken.
Picture this.
An enemy plane,
(MIMICKING PLANE)
Carrying an enemy bomb.
(EXHALING)
An enemy pilot (GRUNTING) with a bad cold.
They get them, you know, same as we do.
He sneezes once,
(MIMICKING SNEEZE)
Nothing occurs.
He sneezes a second time,
(MIMICKING SNEEZE)
Again, all is well.
He sneezes a third time, and watch very carefully now,
(MIMICKING SNEEZE)
(EXCLAIMS)
He hits the big red button with his big red nose, and it's
(MIMICS HATCH OPENING)
Bombs away!
(MIMICS BOMB WHISTLING)
Oh, kettle's boiled.
(MIMICKING EXPLOSION)
- Big bang, you see. - Oh, dear, what a thought.
We'll just have to hope
that none of them catches a cold, won't we, Mrs Docherty?
- Egg and cress or bloater paste? - Ham.
VINCENT: Norman, watch me do a handstand.
(CHEERING)
(ISABEL SHRIEKING)
Shoo! Shoo!
ISABEL: Time for ginger beer. VINCENT: Ginger beer!
(INAUDIBLE)
NORMAN: Megsie has more. ISABEL: No, she hasn't.
MEGSIE: Norman has up to the fourth ring, as well.
All right, I've got two drops left.
- For me. - Me.
There's Uncle Phil. Quick, hide the cake.
ISABEL: I wasn't sure he was coming.
But here he is, with his silly contract.
Oh, wait, that looks more like a letter.
Norman, Megsie, Uncle Phil's got a letter for us.
A letter from Rory. That'll be nice after all their waiting.
That's not a letter, dear.
It's yellow.
It's a telegram.
VINCENT: What's that?
MRS DOCHERTY: From the War Office.
That's not for us, is it?
It's not always bad news, is it?
I mean, we've got to have a little faith, haven't we?
Oh.
Mum?
NORMAN: "Killed in action."
I'm so...
Rotten luck.
It's a brilliant bit of design, this machine.
- He must've been a terribly good... - He's not dead, you know.
What?
He's not dead. I know he's not.
They've got it wrong.
- Norman, the Army doesn't get it... - They've got it wrong.
Sorry.
But how? How do you know?
Look, my dad's always saying he feels things in his bones.
He can feel weather coming,
and he knows when things are going to happen,
like if a cow's going to calve, or if a lamb's in trouble.
And he's always right. Every time.
Well, I can feel it in my bones that he's alive. I just know it.
You don't think that you feel this way because you've just heard, or...
No, it's not that. I just know.
All right.
So, what do you want to do about it?
We need to find out where he is, and we need to find out fast.
Mum will sell the farm if she believes he's dead.
She'll think we can't manage it on our own.
The thing is, how do I find him?
I can't very well go off looking for him.
- There might be a way. - What? What? Tell me.
Well, it's just... My father.
- He's very high up in the War Office. - Very high up in the War Office.
Exactly, he'd be able to find out quickly.
- Where is he? - London.
- Then how do we get to him? - I don't know. We need help.
- Should we ask your mother? - No. No, I need to prove that he's alive,
bring her proof.
Then who? Who can help us?
(ENGINE BACKFIRING)
MEGSIE: The boys are on their way to London.
They can't be.
They said they were checking the barley.
No, listen.
"Megs, Dad not dead.
"Feel it in bones. Don't tell Mum.
"Have gone to London with Cyril to get proof.
"That's the only thing that will stop her from selling the farm."
But she's decided to sell, she said so. Can't we tell her?
No, Norman's right. We mustn't say anything until he has proof.
- So we've got to stop her till he gets back. - Exactly.
NORMAN: Where are we?
CYRIL: Chelsea. Haven't you been here before?
I've never even been to London before.
CYRIL: Lord Nelson.
(ROARING)
(BRAKES SQUEALING)
(NORMAN GASPS)
What are we going to do? This is going to take ages.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
I was hoping to avoid this,
but, Norman, could you please turn that little red wheel all the way, clockwise?
Right, thank you.
(MOTORCYCLE CLATTERING)
Nanny McPhee, how long is this going to...
(CYRIL EXCLAIMING)
I can't bear London in the traffic.
- Morning. - Morning.
- Sleep well? - Yes, thanks.
- Look what I've got. - What's that?
- It's a kidney dish, Phil. - It fits two in quite snugly.
Surely you don't need both.
Listen, ladies, the deeds to the farm will be in your hands before you know it.
Oh, I do hope so, Phil,
'cause the fact is, kidney removal is quite a long and painful procedure.
(PHIL GROANING)
TURVEY: And we're on a very tight schedule.
(SHOUTS)
(TOPSEY GIGGLING)
Here we are. Out you get.
- Ready? - Ready.
Best of luck.
- You all right? - Yes.
A bit nervous, but yes.
Please, sir. We're here to see Lord Gray on a matter of life and death.
Get lost before I thump you.
(MOUTHING) Tell him.
- He's my father. - Prove it.
- What? - Prove it or hop it.
Sergeant Jeffreys, you've grown.
Nanny McPhee, ma'am.
At your service, ma'am.
At ease, Ralph.
- Lesson three paid off, I see. - Certainly did, ma'am.
- How's the Army treating you? - Proudly, ma'am.
Have you learned to eat your greens?
Well?
I can't lie to you, Nanny McPhee.
Broccoli still presents a challenge.
Try it with cheese.
And don't forget, in May and June, asparagus can be a pleasant alternative.
I shall answer for these children. Please let them in, immediately.
On the double, Nanny McPhee, ma'am.
(WHISTLING)
ISABEL: All right, Phil, I'm ready to sign.
Mum, what are you doing?
- You know what I'm doing, darling. - But, well, you've got to wait for Norman.
No more waiting!
If we wait another second, we'll lose the kidneys.
I mean the sale. The sale.
Megsie, there's nothing that Norman can do about this.
What is the meaning of this, boy?
Sorry to disturb you, sir,
but we need your help.
- We've come all the way from the country. - We?
He means me, Uncle.
I mean, Uncle Your Lordship.
And you are?
Norman, sir. Your nephew, sir.
Aunt Isabel's son.
Ah, yes, the girl who made that unfortunate marriage.
Her happy marriage to my father, sir,
who's fighting for your army, so I'll thank you to be more civil.
And what is your business here, pray?
Sir, we need you to find out what's happened to Norman's father.
To Uncle Rory.
We got a telegram saying...
Yes?
...he was killed in action.
But I know it's wrong. I know he's alive.
I see. So, you're saying that the telegram,
a telegram sent from the War Office, contained false information?
Exactly.
And you have proof, of course,
otherwise you would not have dared to come here.
Has your father contacted you since you received the telegram?
No.
Then one of his unit has been in touch, presumably?
No.
Then what proof have you?
I can feel it in my bones.
- In your what? What? - I can feel it in my bones.
In your bones?
Feel it in your bones?
- Yes. - Great heavens, boy.
Do you mean you've persuaded my weak-willed son
to bring you here, in the middle of a war,
with some cock-and-bull story about a feeling you have in your bones?
He's not weak-willed.
It was him who saved the piglets
and him that thought of helping us by coming here.
And I know I'm right about my father.
Please, can't you just inquire?
There are thousands of men fighting in my army.
Why should I give your father, however worthy he may be,
my special attention?
Because...
Because they love him, and so does Auntie Isabel,
and they need him.
And I know why you sent us away to them, too.
It had nothing to do with bombs.
I know you and Mother are getting a divorce.
- Enough! - No, you will listen!
You've made your lives and our lives a misery.
Isn't that enough for you?
At least help Aunt Isabel and Uncle Rory to be together.
Wait here.
(DOOR OPENING)
(ISABEL MUTTERING)
- Hurry it along there, Isabel. - Well, I've got to read it, haven't I?
Right.
Mum, please, wait. Please.
Stop it, Megsie.
(READING) "Those shall be accepted in reserve..."
(SCREAMING)
A mouse. A mouse under the chair.
(CONTINUES SCREAMING)
Are they really going to get a divorce, your mum and dad?
So who will you live with?
My mother, I suppose. Won't make much difference.
We hardly ever see him or her.
We only ever get wheeled out for them on special occasions.
You can come live with us, you know. You and Celia.
That's jolly decent of you.
(DOOR OPENING)
I'm sorry.
What does it say?
I'm afraid he's M.I.A.
- What's that? - Missing in action.
I'm sorry, Norman.
Wait.
"Missing"?
"Missing in action," not "killed in action"?
Not killed.
The telegram you received was incorrect.
In fact, there's no record of any telegram having been sent.
Which is something we should look into...
NORMAN: I knew it. He's alive.
Thank you, Uncle.
He's my nephew. He's a country boy.
"Rough diamond," as they say.
Come on, we've got to get back. We've got to tell Mum.
LORD GRAY: Cyril,
it's done you good, all that country air.
Carry on.
I will, sir.
I mean, Father.
Right-o.
Norman, if the War Office never sent that telegram,
it means the one you saw was forged,
but who would forge a telegram saying someone was dead?
- Who would do something that awful? - Uncle Phil.
He's been trying to get Mum to sell our half of the farm.
He must have known she'd sell if she thought Dad was dead.
We've got to hurry.
He's not dead. He's only missing.
That is good news.
But we've got to get back quickly. We'll explain on the way.
(CONTINUES SCREAMING)
Celia, please, stop screaming!
It's been half an hour.
There is no mouse.
I saw it. Must have escaped.
Right.
Isabel, let's just get this done, shall we?
Have you got a pen?
Mum, please wait.
That's enough, Megsie.
- Phil, find a pen. - Another pen. Right.
(SIGHING)
Ah.
Nanny McPhee, we need you.
Please, Nanny McPhee, we need you.
Please, please, Nanny McPhee, we need you.
Nanny McPhee, we need you.
We need you. We need you. We need you.
Norman, could you hand me my stick, please?
Actually, better still,
could you just bang it down on the road once, quite hard?
Go on.
Don't drop it.
The paperwork involved in replacing it simply doesn't bear thinking about.
Well done. Put it back.
- What did it do? - What?
When Norman banged the stick, what was it for?
Hello.
Mum, please, don't. It's our farm. Don't sign it.
This is all self-explanatory.
Oh! So is this.
And that. And you just sign it there.
Where is the pen?
For heaven's sake, Phil.
Never mind.
(GASPING)
They were here.
Bye.
ISABEL: I thought you wanted me to sign the thing.
PHIL: I don't understand.
Someone must've...
I don't think there are any more pens, Mum.
- Nanny McPhee. - Yes, dearie?
How fast can this thing go, exactly?
(ENGINE REVVING)
Look what I found.
(LAUGHS HUMOURLESSLY)
Right. Isabel, let's get this thing done, shall we?
Let's get this signed, Isabel.
I'll steady your hand. Steady your hand. There.
Just... Just there, that's it.
- What are we going to do? - I don't know.
Yes.
I can't think of anything that could stop him now.
(PILOT SNEEZING)
(PILOT SNIFFLING)
"L-S..."
(SNEEZING)
(BOMB WHISTLING)
(CRASHING)
- It's a UXB. - What's that?
An unexploded bomb. We have them in London.
Could go off at any second.
- What? - What?
It might not. It depends.
But it'll destroy the harvest.
It's a sign.
They're coming for me.
MR DOCHERTY ON BULLHORN: Stop panicking. Help is at hand.
They're gonna kill me.
- Unexploded bomb! - They're gonna kill me!
- Unexploded bomb! - Who? Who's going to kill you?
The hit-women.
The lady heavies.
I'm here. Stop all that panicking. Stop it!
I can't stop it. I'm going to die.
I'm going to get under the table.
I'm going to put the kettle on.
Mine's a milk and two sugars.
Thank God. You have to arrest me,
and you have to arrest me now, before they get here.
What?
Arrest me now! I repeat...
Arrest you for what? What's the crime? There's got to be a crime.
Try forgery.
Norman, where have you been?
To the War Office. Dad's alive.
What?
- Uncle Phil forged the telegram. - Yes.
Norman's right. There's your crime.
- Now will you arrest me? - MR DOCHERTY: Phil, you...
Look, none of you seem to realise
that there could be a fatalistic explosion at any second of the moment.
Quiet, please. Quiet, please, all of you.
Norman,
come here.
Dad's missing in action.
Go on.
But I can feel it in my bones that he's alive.
Oh, well, then, it must be true.
Thank you. Thank you, my darling. My darling.
My darling boy.
- And Cyril. Thank him, too. - Cyril, you, too?
Cyril, come here.
- My brave boy. - Did you hear that?
- What? - I'm a forger, a villainous forger.
Leave it. There's a bomb out there what needs dealing with.
- Bomb? - Bomb?
Quick, come and look.
Here's the cuffs, Phil. Sort it out yourself.
Now, "Bombs."
- It's a UXB. - That means unexploded bomb.
But the barley. If it goes off, it will be destroyed.
"Defusing your bomb."
No! No, no, no, no, no.
Cuff me to you. To you.
That way I'll be safe.
(PHIL EXHALING)
Can someone help me with these, please?
You don't deserve any help, you completely wicked person.
Please, I'm begging you, Megsie.
Allow me.
(GROANING)
(EXCLAIMING)
I mean, thank you.
I am about to disarm the device.
(TICKING)
(GROANING)
- He fell over. - I think he may have fainted.
Who's going to defuse it now?
Boys, check on Mr Docherty and put that ladder back up.
Celia, get his pamphlet.
You read out the instructions 'cause you've got the best diction.
Nanny McPhee, please, help me stop them.
Somehow, I doubt that will be possible.
(SIGHING)
Anyone there?
It's just, I'm not comfy.
CELIA: "Defusing your bomb.
"Three simple steps to an explosion-free day.
"Step one. Open the vent situated by the tail fin."
- Open the vent. - Open the vent.
CELIA: Open the vent.
Vent (GRUNTING) open.
What's next?
"Step two. Cut the blue wire."
- Blue wire. - Blue wire.
These are going to be too big.
- What else can we use? - Has anyone got a penknife?
Oh!
Try these.
MEGSIE: These are perfect.
Well done, Celia.
(CELIA EXHALING)
What's next?
(WHISTLING)
TOPSEY: Yoo-hoo! TURVEY: Yoo-hoo!
TOPSEY: Hello, Phil.
"Step three. Cut the red wire."
- Red wire. - Red wire.
(MEGSIE GRUNTING)
- Can you see it? - Is it there?
- Have you done it? - Be quiet. I can't reach it.
(EXCLAIMING) Isn't it exciting?
(ALL SHUSHING)
What?
(TICKING STOPS)
- I did it. - CYRIL: Well done.
Jolly good.
CELIA: Megsie, well done.
(RATTLING)
(ALARM WAILING)
Uh-oh.
What's it doing? What's it doing?
We've got such good news, Phil.
We're not going to remove your kidneys after all. That's right.
Mrs Big has decided that kidney removal just wasn't good enough for you.
It lacked finesse.
She wants us to stuff you, Phil.
Stuff you, and put you in the entrance to the casino as a warning to others.
(GAGGING)
You can't do that.
Oh, don't worry, Phil, Miss Turvey's a professional.
Here is an early example of my work.
And here's how you'll look.
It's uncanny, isn't it?
Only thing is, we will have to scoop you out while you're still, well...
Alive.
(SCREAMING) No!
What does it say about the light?
You can check yourself, there is absolutely nothing
- in the whole book. - Wait, there's a footnote.
"On certain enemy bombs, there will be a step four.
"Cut the green wire."
I can't see any green wire.
It must be covered by all this grey stuff.
It's hard as nails.
Algernon, I don't want you to miss the bomb going off. Come on, dear.
Wait. Here.
"Warning, if the green wire is protected with explosive putty..."
- Putty? - "...red lights will come on,
"beginning the countdown to explosion."
(ALARM SOUNDING)
Why is that at the back?
We all need to take cover right now!
Come down, Megsie!
Look.
ISABEL: Megsie! MEGSIE: Mum, wait.
Megsie, come down now!
Mr Edelweiss is eating the putty.
ISABEL: Megsie, come down now.
(HIGH-PITCHED WAILING)
Megsie!
NORMAN: Megsie, please, come down! CYRIL: What's happening?
NORMAN: Megsie, it's too dangerous. CYRIL: You have to come down now.
I can see the green wire.
(ALARM BLARING)
(POWERING DOWN)
(CAWING)
- We did it. - My darling, come down.
You did it.
You did it, darling. Come down now.
Well done, Megs!
You clever, clever girl. Come down.
The bomb's been defused.
Oh, it was nothing.
(GROANS)
CELIA: I knew you could do it, Megsie. Well done.
Lesson four, to be brave,
is complete.
But Mr Edelweiss. He's full of explosive putty.
Won't he go off?
(CAWING)
Take cover, everyone.
Leave this to me.
Go, go. Go as fast as you can.
(GIGGLING)
McPHEE: There.
(BURPING)
(LOUD RUMBLING)
(EXCLAIMING)
(ALL SCREAMING)
I can fly!
(SCREAMING)
(SHOUTING)
(SCREAMING)
Goodbye!
PHIL: Well done, Phil.
(SIGHS)
- (HISSING) - (SCREAMING)
(EXCLAIMING IN PAIN)
NORMAN: What's happening to the barley?
(EXCLAIMING)
(LAUGHING)
(ALL EXCLAIMING SOFTY)
Cor!
(GASPS)
What's happened?
The harvest's in.
(EXHALING)
Look, there's a slide.
Come on, everybody. Last one up's a rotten egg.
MEGSIE: Me first, me first!
NORMAN: Mum, come up the ladder.
ISABEL: Darling. MEGSIE: Watch. Watch.
CELIA: Well done!
(EXCLAIMING)
CELIA: Well done, Mr Docherty. Up you get.
- MEGSIE: Come on, Mum. - All right. I don't know.
(SHRIEKING)
(ALL CHEERING)
Are you off?
I am.
Thank you for having me to stay, Aggy.
Thank you for asking, Nanny McPhee.
Look.
MEGSIE: That's one of Nanny McPhee's medals.
You have one, too. It's the green one.
That one's my favourite.
Ooh.
(LAUGHS)
- Why has she given us her medals? - Let's ask her.
Where is she?
CYRIL: Nanny McPhee?
There.
Nanny McPhee!
Where's she going?
MRS DOCHERTY: She's leaving you.
What?
- She can't be. - Why?
Because you don't need her any more.
(SCOFFING) Don't be ridiculous.
But I want her to stay.
Oh, dear. You've forgotten how she works, haven't you?
How?
When you need her but do not want her,
then she must stay.
When you want her but no longer need her,
then she has to go.
That's not fair.
We didn't mean to want her.
What do you mean, we don't need her? Are you quite mad?
MEGSIE: Nanny McPhee. NORMAN: Let's head her off.
CELIA: Nanny McPhee. ISABEL: Nanny McPhee.
MRS DOCHERTY: Nanny McPhee doesn't like goodbyes.
I remember from when I was little.
(TINKLING)
ISABEL: Come back.
They might not need you, but I do.
I need you. I need you, desperately.
Oh, come back.
Keep going, Mum.
Don't stop, Mum, or we'll lose her.
ISABEL: Will you come back? Come back!
Keep going, Mum. We need her.
No, we don't.
Dada!
Oh!
NORMAN: Dad.
RORY: My little man.
- Dad, this is Cyril and Celia. - Celia.
I had three children when I left, and now I have five.
I'm home. I'm home, now.
(LAUGHING) I'm all right.
Lesson five,
to have faith,
is complete.
(McPHEE LAUGHS)
(CHIRPS)
Hop on, then.
THE END Subtitles by:
(BELL RINGING)
(SQUEALING)
(LAUGHING)
(BURPS)
(SQUEAKING)
(LAUGHING)
(GRUNTING)
(LAUGHING)
VOICE 1: The person you need... VOICE 2: Is Nanny McPhee.
Nanny McPhee.
VOICE 1: The person you need is Nanny McPhee.