SEVEN DAYS... SEVEN NIGHTS
And now, "The Diabelli".
Read what the score says.
Moderato cantabile.
- What does that mean? - I've forgotten.
Is that so?
- He’s so stubborn, Mrs Desbarèdes. - Indeed.
I told you last time and the time before.
You just don’t want to tell us.
For the 100th time...
Moderato cantabile means moderate and melodic.
Moderate and melodic.
Right. Now play.
What are you waiting for?
Do you want to say something? Say it, then.
- The sonatina. - So?
I don’t like it.
- What’s wrong? It’s so pretty. - It’s too difficult.
- Did you just figure that out? - Yes.
- Yes, who? - Yes, Miss Giraud.
Play it.
See this, Mrs Desbarèdes?
Terrible. As stubborn as a goat.
- Alas, in this part of town... - What is it?
- I’m waiting. - Who screamed?
Your sonatina...
Go on. Play.
And yet... see?
If only he wanted.
What’s happening?
Start again.
Remember, moderato cantabile.
- Think of a lullaby. - I never sing to him.
Tonight he’ll ask me to,
and he’ll ask so nicely I won’t be able to resist him.
In B flat. You always forget.
Why did you stop?
- To watch. - Keep playing.
Something serious must have happened.
Come and see!
We may as well stop for today.
But next time he’ll have to know the first movement perfectly.
More cars are coming.
Move back!
Let us in!
Step back!
Stay right here.
I’ll be back. Stay here.
A beautiful woman...
He killed her.
What will happen now?
What is it?
- It wasn’t him who screamed. - No. Don’t look.
You should try to remember.
Moderato means moderate. It’s nearly the same.
And cantabile means melodic. It’s easy.
- And you, didn’t you hear anything? - No.
But I understand you were nearby.
You know,
Miss Giraud’s house is located very close to that café.
I must tell you that the piano lesson was cut short today.
With all that commotion.
By the way...
I have to say Pierre plays his sonatina almost perfectly.
Miss Giraud told me again today,
it’s not that he lacks musical talent
but he lacks good will.
Please...
I’m sorry.
What would you like?
A glass of wine.
And for the child?
Nothing. He’s already had a snack.
Nice day.
I was thirsty.
And in fact, I’ll have another one.
- I was just walking past. - Nice day for a walk.
Yesterday I was at Miss Giraud’s.
I recognise you.
Yes. Miss Giraud teaches my son the piano.
May I?
Thank you but I’m not used to this.
She screamed so loudly that it’s natural to be curious, isn’t it?
Naturally.
- Therefore I had to come. - You were around when it happened.
I couldn’t see from Miss Giraud’s window.
All the more reason to come here. Don’t you think?
I think so. But we don’t know much about it.
- Do you mean we don’t know why? - Right. We don’t know why.
Not yet anyway.
Do you know why she screamed yesterday?
Go and play.
What’s certain is that they were having a relationship.
Yes, a love story. We assume so.
Maybe he had heartache.
That's what they call it in magazines... “heartache”.
Just this once.
Right.
You were saying?
Oh...
You were walking past.
Yes.
I take my child for a walk every day.
- Around here? - I usually go to the Arcy forest.
Or to a park.
Or to the river bank.
Something new must happen around here every day.
- I doubt it. - Don’t you think so?
In reality I don’t have an opinion.
Maybe.
But one day something catches your attention more than usual.
I shouldn’t have drunk so much wine.
Hey, how are you?
How are things?
Since last night, I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
Since the piano lesson.
I couldn’t stop myself coming here today.
It doesn’t matter.
You are Mrs Desbarèdes, wife of the factory’s owner.
You live on Boulevard de la Mer.
Yes, sir.
We want so much for them, we don’t know how to do it
or where to start.
- Do you have children, sir? - No.
You can’t imagine how happy we want them to be.
As if it were possible.
I’ve seen you so often walking on the quay...
It’s difficult to believe you’re here now.
Look, it’s still daylight.
The days are getting longer.
Do you work in this town, sir?
At the Desbarèdes factory like everyone else.
I must go home.
If you come back,
I’ll try to get some information about that story. I’ll tell you.
Funny how sometimes you just don’t want to go home.
Raise your head.
Sometimes I think I invented you, that none of this is real.
Let’s go for a walk.
- Where to? - All around here. Come.
- Did you get any more news? - Nothing.
Aren’t you working today, Mr Chauvin?
Why aren’t you talking?
No reason. Sometimes one doesn’t feel like talking.
When did we first take the ferry? Was I little?
Yes, you were very, very tiny. You can’t remember.
I remember things.
- What, sweetheart? - Things.
Once there were daffodils and Dad. We were all together.
How old was I?
Daffodils bloom every year. I don’t know.
Remember, you had a blue dress with things on it.
What else?
I fell and hurt my knee.
- You were upset. - Yes, hold on...
Oh, you were very little.
- And you remember all that? - Yes, everything.
Wait, you were...
You were four.
Tell me stories of when I was little.
Well, when you were little...
Come, come, come!
Come! Let’s hide.
- Ready? - Yes.
- Aren’t you cross with me? - No.
The trouble is it’s hard for a woman to find an excuse to go into a café.
Today I wasn’t able to find one.
No even the cold outside, not even thirst.
Forgive me, sir...
Heard any news since yesterday?
You should have heard the way she screamed.
A very long, very high pitch.
It stopped as it was at its strongest.
- Then it started again slowly. - I was there.
Just once more, I think.
I may have screamed like that once.
When I had my child. If you knew how much I screamed...
I know everything, almost everything.
Did you hear something more?
They'd met exactly six months earlier.
Six months.
- Was their encounter an accident? - An accident.
He used to walk to work past her house every day.
She could see him.
That’s how it all began between them.
She used to look out the window early in the morning.
He could see her too.
She was a woman who often looked at men in the morning.
On their way to work at the arsenal.
But it’s only after she noticed him
that she realised how bored she was.
Bored for a long time, bored watching the other men.
While the other women in town were still asleep.
How did they start talking to each other?
You see, she was living in a house...
surrounded by a big garden and a metal fence.
In the evening, especially at this time of year,
her child and her husband asleep,
she’d go for a stroll.
She’d walk to the fence and look at the street.
She’d walk randomly...
She had trouble sleeping.
Her neighbourhood was very quiet, especially in the evening.
Just a few strollers, a bicycle...
That’s all.
Who knows where they were coming from.
Was it a routine, her having to go out to the garden at night?
Yes, a routine.
Did she ever scream?
No, she never screamed.
One evening, he saw her in the garden.
So he came back.
He came back,
and back again.
And one day he stopped.
That was it.
And it happened precisely in this town.
It’s hard to believe.
It started between them like all stories do.
And then? Then?
Then, I don’t think anyone can tell.
Look, summer’s almost here.
- No. - Yes, it is.
No. Summer never comes in this region.
It’s always windy.
Have you been living here long?
One year.
For me it’s been eight years.
- Since you got married? - Yes.
If I were you, I'd leave.
I’d move to a city without trees, without wind.
There’s always wind here.
Except for two or three days a year.
Most birds here are seagulls found exhausted after a storm.
And after the storm
they scream as if they'd been slaughtered.
On the estuary.
They prevent you sleeping.
No.
I’d leave this place.
If I were you I'd leave.
The first time I saw you was last year at the end of May.
You were having a party for the staff, as happens every year.
You were looking at us with kindness...
and indifference.
You were resting against a large piano.
You were wearing a black dress and had a magnolia between your breasts.
You were looking out at the park, waiting for us to leave.
You wouldn’t stop crushing that flower.
My name is Chauvin.
I must go home.
Can I meet you again?
That won’t be easy.
I have a very fixed schedule.
But before going I would have liked to know
one last detail, even if you're not too sure.
Why did he finally kill her?
I don’t know. That, I don’t know.
But what you do reckon?
I think she asked him to kill her.
He didn’t have any choice.
What’s up?
I don’t know.
My little darling.
- Can we go again? - Where?
- Over there. - Perhaps.
I’d like that.
I told my friend you were going to buy me a red boat with an engine.
- Did you hear me? - Yes, I heard you.
A red boat with an engine.
Look at that!
Look how tall you are now.
You’ve grown up a lot.
It’s good.
Take off the handcuffs.
Come closer. Come on!
Do you recognise this?
How were you positioned?
Lie down as you did then.
Mr Chauvin...
Aren’t you going to Bordeaux tonight?
No, not tonight.
I’m not used to not being at home at this time of day.
What’s with me? What’s with me today?
- Everyone in town will know you and I... - Everyone already does.
I went past your house last night.
The night was bright, so I could see your garden clearly.
I stayed there a long time.
At the first floor on the right-hand side
two windows were still lit up.
It’s my bedroom.
I couldn’t sleep.
Neither could I.
I promised myself I’d stop coming.
And here I am.
I promised myself I’d stop seeing you too.
I feel tired.
Tired...
like never before.
You said “Like never before.”
Yes.
So you promised to never come again?
I promised myself I’d try.
It’s mainly because of that murder, you see.
Did you read the morning paper?
Yes.
- So you know... - That you made it all up?
Not all of it.
I always knew,
always, all those years,
in the night, during the day...
I’ve kept thinking that everything,
everything is possible.
Please...
I’d like to know a little more about it.
Even if you’re not too sure about things.
Even if you have to make it up.
You know...
They used to meet in an abandoned house.
By the sea.
Really?
It’s sheltered from the wind
and it’s warm there in summer.
The first time they met it was a very hot summer.
Towards the end he quit his job.
They’d meet almost every day.
That house felt like their own.
They didn’t know before going there
that it would be the end so soon.
No, they didn’t know.
Sorry.
Do you like other people’s stories as much?
Yes.
You have no idea.
How about your own story?
Same thing.
If someone told it to me.
So?
The time came that, when looking at her,
he didn’t feel quite the same way.
To him she had ceased to be beautiful,
young...
Old, or dead...
I think it only happened very recently
that he wanted her dead.
You tell stories so well.
STRANGLED BY HER LOVER
It was with him that...
It was with him...
that she understood what she really was.
For instance...
A bitch.
Time came when he understood
that he was not able to touch her anywhere...
But here, right?
Here, yes.
I want you to go.
The sonatina. Diabelli’s lovely sonatina.
Play it.
What’s the measure for that lovely sonatina?
Tell us.
How many beats in a measure?
Three beats? Four beats? Tell me.
Moderate and melodic.
He must be doing it on purpose.
Four beats.
Repeat.
I’m waiting.
- Maybe he didn’t hear you. - He heard perfectly.
You’ll never accept that he’s doing it on purpose.
My darling, you know the answer.
- Four beats. - See? He knew it.
Maybe he'd forgotten it. One day he'll know it.
Even if he doesn’t want it, he’ll just know it.
You should be ashamed, Mrs Desbarèdes.
I hear that a lot.
Warm-ups.
Ten minutes.
First in C major.
That will teach you to listen.
Again.
I said for ten minutes.
Again.
Why?
I can’t believe this.
Because I said so.
And insolent, to top it all!
In G major. Three times, go on.
Didn’t you hear? I said three times.
Did you hear, my darling?
I’m sure you did.
Strange how children can make you become wicked.
Good for his character and his fingers.
Right.
You know, I’m not sure I can continue teaching him.
I’ll explain to him that he must obey.
But you say that every time.
There’s nothing to explain. The choice isn’t up to him.
That’s called education.
Now play the sonatina.
One, two, three, four...
Let’s go.
What happens to those deer?
They’re caught in very large nets
and taken to other forests.
But where do they come from?
I’ve told you before. I tell you every time we come.
- Tell me again. - So this is how it goes...
The deer come from a different region.
They all cross the forest on the same night.
All together on the same night.
- Where do they come from? - From over there, far away.
- And where do they go? - To Germany, a country very far away.
- Why? - That, no one knows.
If they travel at night, they must be afraid of something.
Are you sure no one knows why? I’d like you to tell me.
No one knows. I can’t tell you.
They’re not taken to other forests! They’re killed but you won’t tell me!
I swear it’s not that.
I swear.
Pierre...
Pierre!
Let’s go home, my darling.
Look, we’re lost.
Ah, yes, we are!
I’m late.
Those piano lessons take for ever.
Afterwards we went to the Arcy forest.
- Is everything all right? - Yes, madam.
A glass of wine.
Please.
Thank you.
So we were saying...
Thank you.
You came back.
I think I’m in love with you.
That’s why.
But I’m never sure about what I say.
I’m never sure of anything.
Maybe he wanted to kill her very early on.
From the moment he first saw her.
We may have been wrong.
Perhaps...
before meeting you...
did I ignore who I was?
Go away.
I think long periods of happiness aren’t for me.
It suits me more to spend very short lengths of time
with certain men.
I only figured that out a few days ago.
After I met you.
But...
There’s a dinner party at my house tonight.
I’m expected to attend.
But maybe there’s no point.
For once.
I said maybe there’s no point.
There’s no point in you staying here either.
The weather is so nice tonight.
We could meet again.
At whatever time you want after dinner.
Wherever you want.
I think it’s no longer possible.
For a short time only.
Here, if you want.
How are Pierre’s lessons going?
Anne didn’t hear you.
True.
We were wondering how your son’s lessons are going.
Forgive me.
At the moment, he’s working on a sonatina by Diabelli.
Good. A sonatina, already?
Already, yes.
Miss Giraud, who also teaches my son, told me this story.
He can’t remember what moderato cantabile means.
No, he can’t.
The little darling, he's so little, how could he?
It’s difficult.
He must already be asleep. Will we get to see him?
He’s already asleep.
No, thank you.
I really couldn’t. Thank you.
Delicious.
Could it be the magnolia’s strong perfume?
I’m used to these flowers. I’m fine.
- Are you unwell, Mrs Desbarèdes? - No.
Sometimes I’m just not hungry.
Anne didn’t hear you.
We’re going to a secluded house at the seaside.
A secluded house at the seaside.
The beach? A lot of fun for the children.
The little darling must be very happy.
Yes.
Anne...
What shall I tell them?
That I’m going mad.
Mr Chauvin, I was about to close.
I’m sorry, but I must see Mrs Desbarèdes.
We can't meet anywhere but here.
Anybody here?
Why didn’t you answer?
I was waiting for you.
I’m leaving tomorrow.
For ever?
Yes, for ever.
Because of me?
- Of us? - Yes, because of you.
I knew it was impossible.
I never thought it would happen so fast.
If I stayed you wouldn’t be able to walk your son in town.
No.
I couldn’t have carried on.
Not even to his piano lessons.
I should have accepted that someone else can take my son there.
Instead of me.
No.
Everyone’s watching me... It’s unbelievable.
I know.
I approve of them watching you.
I wish you never stopped talking.
We weren’t able to love each other.
That’s how things must be sometimes.
It’s been seven days.
Seven nights.
Seven nights, true.
Come closer for a moment.
Maybe one minute.
And we’ll manage.
I’ll never be able to talk to anybody else.
You will.
One day you’ll speak like this to a child or whoever.
On a nice day you’ll say “It’s a nice day.”
You’ll want to share that with someone.
- It will happen again. - No!
That’s what you want to believe.
It doesn’t matter.
We have little time left.
The day will break soon.
I’m scared...
I’m scared.
I’m scared!
I wish you were dead.
Now I am.