
Previously on Mr Selfridge: Harry was scammed by his girlfriend, which made him kind of bitter. Victor opened up a nightclub and romanced Harry’s obnoxious daughter, Violette, who decided the best way to rebound from that was to marry some completely random Frenchman. Oldest daughter Rosalie married Sergei, a no-good Russian émigré, Doris died, leaving Grove available for Mardle (not that he deserves her), and Agnes took Henri back to France, presumably forever.
We’ve fast-forwarded nearly a decade, to 1928, which means the ladies are flapping and the men are now rocking floppier hair and double-breasted suits. Harry’s in Biarritz, playing blackjack for really high stakes.
Now Harry’s back in London, arriving at Victor’s swanky, bigger nightclub with Frank. The press is waiting and surround him, asking Harry how much he’s lost. Slow news day, guys? Seriously, who cares how much some rich guy lost gambling? Harry and Frank put them off and go inside, where the party is a-swinging. Victor publicly welcomes Harry, then introduces the singer, Alberta Hunter, who’s there to give us some very 20’s-style blues while moodily handling a cigarette holder. Wow, a person of colour—it really must be the 1920s!
Continue reading “Mr Selfridge: The Return of Lady Mae”
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