Briony Tallis: I never made that journey to Balham. So the scene in which I confess to them is invented, imagined. And, in fact, could never have happened… because Robbie Turner died of septicaemia at Bray Dunes on the first of June 1940, the last day of the evacuation… and I was never able to put things right with my sister Cecilia… because she was killed on the 15th of October, 1940 by the bomb that destroyed the gas and water mains above Balham tube station. So, my sister and Robbie were never able to have the time together they both so longed for… and deserved. Which ever since I’ve… ever since I’ve always felt I prevented. But what sense of hope or satisfaction could a reader derive from an ending like that? So in the book, I wanted to give Robbie and Cecilia what they lost out on in life. I’d like to think this isn’t weakness or… evasion… but a final act of kindness. I gave them their happiness.
Joe Wright: It’s strange, because this is a film about happy endings, it’s about the purpose of happy endings. Happy endings — what is their role? What is the role of a happy ending? And I think in the end we decide that happy endings are important, they do serve a purpose, they do give us something to aspire to. Very noble, the human spirit. And I think that’s a very, very important purpose. Has this film gotten a happy ending? I’m not sure, I think it’s up to the audience. […] So here’s her testament to happy endings. I used to think that happy endings were a sign of weakness or evasion. And I’ve changed my mind since making Pride and Prejudice and certainly since making this film. Happy endings can be a sign of strength.
“Dearest Cecilia, the story can resume. The one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become again the man who once walked across a Surrey park at dusk in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life; the man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return. Find you, love you, marry you, and live without shame.”
