On that heady morning...
where from my privileged position...
I could hear the birdsong preceding the sounds of the city...
I reflected upon the fortune, the audacity...
and, dare I say it, the ingenuity that had led to my being there...
a place where my imagination, albeit colourfu...
could never have brought me alone.
Six weeks earlier I had been...
a strictly one-woman man...
contentedly enamoured of family and homeland...
a man whose gaze was never averted...
by female passers-by...
Sixth floor.
Me too.
- The lights are on a time switch. - You think so?
Sorry. Excuse me. Please, forgive me.
Pick me up. I'll leave my car here.
That's right.
Me too, yes.
Do you love me?
Undeniably.
Yes. indisputably.
Marthe, I don't have time for this...
Pintard!
That's twice this week you've stuck Le Priouret in the minister's file.
Are you ill?
The minister specifically asked for another copy.
Really? I'm sorry. Don't worry, love.
Are you afraid of me?
Bastard!
Information Office Manager
How about dinner?
What?
Tonight at the Recamier, Rue Recamier.
I recognise your voice you know.
At nine o'clock?
Why?
Because.
I can't at nine.
Ten past nine.
Why are you speaking English?
Aren't you...
I'd understood you were British.
Not at all.
I'll check. I'd be surprised though because...
Wait... what time is it?
What am I doing?
Why do you do that at passing cars?
So I can see them.
Why are you staring? How do I look?
Very elegant.
What? I'm off to work in Rue Saint-Jacques.
These are hurting.
- Here, I haven't got a bag. - Careful!
Off to school with the teachers at 41 years old.
- When are the exams? - Silly!
In 23 days' time. 22.
Wearing your little shoes?
I meant to tell you.
Tonight, I think I'll give your bearded classmates a miss.
Where's the cinema programme?
I thought I'd catch a movie.
It's all been organized.
You're going to the 8-o'clock show with the girls.
They're a bit fed up so I promised them. ls that OK?
Fantastic!
Mind my earrings!
Good serve! Thirty all.
- Out! - Out! Thirty-forty.
- Out? - Just
Get on your bike and see for yourself.
You're putting me off!
Sorry, darling!
Ready?
Go on!
PARDON MON AFFAIRE
I was wrong-footed. They talk too much.
Very funny. It's distracting!
I keep my mouth shut.
How's it going otherwise?
How about you?
Awful. Don't ask.
Hey' guys...
Can we have our ball back, miss?
Thanks a lot.
She missed!
Check out the legs!
There you go!
Like the short and curlies, guys?
Cut it out, it's embarrassing. I don't like it.
Haven't I seen you around?
If they attack, aim for their feet. Don't lob.
- Why not? - You leave them short.
- Are those Peugeot rackets? - They're Montana!
They're so irritating.
I think I must have pulled a muscle.
Come on, Simon!
And mind the foot faults.
Are you losing your socks?
Foot faults!
An ace!
Fifteen-love. Go, Mr Bouly!
Well played.
Ready!
What a passing shot!
Well played, Mr Bouly!
It's so easy. He doesn't even need me.
Got a cigarette, Simon?
- Ready? - Thirty-love. Keep 'em peeled!
Quick, quick!
Excuse him, miss.
They have no manners.
You're a good player. Are you ranked?
What was that?
A topspin lob.
You're useless at topspin. I asked you not to lob!
What do you expect? My shoulder hurts.
I love playing mixed doubles.
We'll lose.
- How many? - Forty-love, match point.
Leave it! Go on!
- Sorry. - You're just a bit off form.
Wait till Sunday.
I didn't know she had a sister.
She turned up at the factory yesterday
and said, "Meet Carmen." You should have seen her!
Are they really Spanish?
I don't know, I didn't ask for their passports.
I doubt it. The big one's called Esther.
- Esther doesn't sound very... - Iberian!
- Is she good? - I'd give the big one 6 out of 10.
Ask me about the other tomorrow.
I'm taking her out tonight. Simon!
I bet he's forgotten his towel.
Come on, the shower's yours!
Simon!
I can't, I don't have a towel.
Always the same, guys!
Mr Boulifet? Telephone!
Wait.
Bouly, you're wanted on the phone.
Can't you take the call for me? Sorry but...
If it's SEITA, say I'll call back.
Problems with corn paper.
- Serious? - An orchestra conductor died.
- He smoked corn. - That's not how he died, idiot!
The family attacks but...
What about Marie-Ange?
Hasn't she ever picked up on any of this?
Carmen... That girl from the chemist's...
- Snow White. - No, the chemist.
Jocelyne.
Marie-Ange... the kids, the home, her radio...
38 years old. I don't want to stereotype but...
She's a happy woman.
What about her?
What?
Don't her ears ever prick up?
Marie-Ange's?
Now hang on...
The guy's stupid!
Marie-Ange...
Staying for lunch, doctor?
Bloody hell!
I don't believe it.
I don't believe it!
What else did she say?
Who? Mrs Philippot?
She'd come to do the ironing and passed them on the stairs.
Marie-Ange, the kids, the furniture...
Why did you bring your bag?
It'd get stolen. His car's unlocked.
I don't believe it!
I don't believe it, guys. She's taken everything.
This is where the tapestry was.
With the two shepherdesses and that idiot...
Did you have a premarital agreement?
Oh, come on!
Did she have the right to take the furniture?
Can I make a call?
There's a note.
- What? Where? - Over there. Look.
That's a note, isn't it?
It's a note, but...
Mouchy?
I couldn't call from the club. I'll explain later.
No Mouchy, I...
What?
He told you what?
Well, that's great!
Doesn't sound like Charles.
No, I can't speak to him now.
Who did you say would be well rid of you when you're in hospital?
Does she say where they went?
Didn't she say why?
Yes.
She found a photo...
The one of me with that old bird.
Naked?
No, in a nightclub.
My kids...
What did he say?
My kids...
You said they were stupid.
He only said that because he was tired.
He adored his children.
I don't believe it.
Shit, I don't believe it!
I've cut myself. What a pillock!
Maybe the kids are at school.
No, it's the Whitsun holidays.
Marie-Ange...
She'll come back.
Don't you believe it. They never come back.
A woman leaves you after 15 years of marriage.
Before you know it you're a stranger to her.
It depends.
Bouly has been overdoing it for the last few years.
But supposing, for example,
a chap has a one-off dinner with another woman.
Maybe they start an affair, maybe not.
His wife doesn't just take off with the furniture and kids.
Yes! They're capable of anything.
- What about Mrs Luberon? - Same.
Who's that?
This was while you were in Iran.
The wife of the professor. His boss!
I can only see her nights.
Even then only when the professor's called out!
Depends on the seriousness of the operation.
If it's appendicitis I don't bother.
But let's say it's peritonitis...
Then she calls me.
It's a 25-minute round trip in a car.
So by the time he's carefully washed his hands,
slipped on the gloves...
"Hi, babe. He's got two legs to amputate."
"Don't move, I'm on my way!"
Dr Simon Messina General Practitioner
Will you be in this afternoon?
Yes, I'm consulting.
- Can I drop by? - What's wrong?
I wanted to ask a favour of you.
But it's... personal.
Do you mind hurrying up? I have to get the car back by 3.
Jean!
- Is the customer here for the Rolls? - Not yet.
I'll wait...
That afternoon I was back at work as is only natural
for a man whose destiny is suddenly shaken.
I was perfectly aware that I was planning for the first time
to betray Marthe and the thought of it appalled me.
The stares from colleagues,
oblivious to the drama now unfolding,
devoted to their stupid work, nevertheless pierced me.
I interpreted them as disapproval.
Although challenging a society whose morality I respected,
I must confess that the young lady in red
had set my conscience ablaze...
Now that's enough, Lucien! I've had it up to here!
Why won't you answer my letters?
What letters? I didn't get them.
I've never heard of 14 letters going astray before.
- Lucien! - I love your breasts.
- I can't live without them. - My breasts?
I saw them in the window when I gave Fats Waller to Delphine.
- The window? - Of your room.
I love your breasts. Especially the left one.
- I'll tell your parents! - I already did.
I said I was going to marry a married woman.
You're completely crazy!
What did they say?
The old fools can't accept it.
But we don't need their permission, my love.
Simon, you're the only man I can ask.
What are you going to say back to me?
"Can't you sort it out, Deschanel?"
"Do you want me to come over? Deschanel, you're a nuisance."
Who's Deschanel?
A chap who works with me at the Ministry.
Come on... Goodbye, doctor. And thanks.
At nine. Don't do anything stupid.
Will you be home?
Daniel and I are taking Bouly out. Without you it seems.
Mr Daoud...
Come in, Mr Jouglen. I'll see you right away.
Is it another woman?
Are you mad?
Political?
Goodbye, dear boy.
Did you get the results?
Thanks.
Didn't the lab call you about them?
No.
That's not right.
No, it isn't right.
Well?
Last time I came, you frightened me.
- What's wrong? - Nothing.
So why did you go...
Call the lab and make sure they haven't made a mistake
with Mr Jouglen's triglyceride and cholesterol levels.
Because if they're correct...
I don't know what's wrong with me. It really throbs.
Maybe I've pulled a muscle.
It's hellish!
Barney Bigard on the clarinet, Cozy Cole on drums.
Not Cozy Cole. Gene Krupa on drums.
Bet you anything you like. That's Cozy Cole's sound.
Recorded April 20, 1950.
Gene Krupa left Benny Goodman in '39...
You're so annoying with your clarinets!
Lucien, get off my bed. I've got work to do.
In bed? No wonder you're crap.
Yeah, right. Now get out.
Got a cigarette, Lucien?
Stop pretending you smoke. You do it wrong.
She can't exhale through her nose.
I've given up smoking. It stops you getting a tan.
What the hell do you care?
I'm taking care of my body.
- Haven't you got your keys? - Yes but...
Didn't they come about the lift?
I always take the stairs. ls it broken?
It doesn't stop at our floor.
You have to go to the top then walk down.
Hello, Lucien.
Delphine tells me you've been accepted.That's great!
- How old are you? - 17.
I'm really motivated this year.
What time are we going?
- Where? - To the movies.
We'll have to cancel, love.
I've been lumbered with this. I have to go out again.
Naturally!
And don't make that face.
I'm in a bad mood as it is!
I wanted to talk to you about...
Hello, everyone.
A contract isn't just a professional commitment.
Today, I wanted to discuss a case...
Hi, old fella.
Fetch me a beer, would you?
Can it wait till I've put my stuff down?
Thanks awfully.
Well!
Going through my pockets now?
I need 1,000 francs for Catulle.
- With the hair? - That's him.
I think they need more drinks.
- What's wrong? - Nothing, nothing.
Nothing.
I was just leaving. With Deschanel.
Who should I meet in the lift? Old beady-eyes.
"Hello, Minister." "Hello, Dorsay."
"Going home? Good. Go through this with a toothcomb."
The way he talks! Treats me like his lackey!
The one night you were taking the girls out.
Tell me about it! I feel awful.
Will it take long?
Oh no! I have to read 600 pages and pick out 12.
I've delegated half of them to Deschanel.
Let's just hope Deschanel can manage.
- Fancy a drink? - Yes. Maybe.
No, right now I'm...
worn out.
- Who fancies a movie? - No-one! Let's go to my place.
I can't...
Why are you shaving?
Why am I shaving?
What's all this?
What? Well, it's Bouly's kid.
I know that but what's he doing here?
Haven't you... heard?
I was asking you where she is.
I understood. But I don't know.
I swear.
- Gentlemen... - What'll you have, Andre?
A pastis.
Two pastis.
Rene!
I feel good.
I'll be right back...
Want one? What was that?
Nothing, sir. I'll get you a Ricard.
- Rene! - He'll be right back.
Rene!
- Enjoying it? - Oh, yes!
What a prick!
Where's Rene?
Not this way!
Please, follow me.
There's a table in the corner.
I want Rene.
What's this? Rene!
Where's Rene?
He's so stupid.
Maybe but it's funny!
I'd better get back.
Well, Andre?
There you are. Why did you leave me?
Don't ever leave me.
Come on, let's go.
You'll have to excuse him, he's...
You know, you're crazy!
It was better last time at La Coupole.
I prefer telephone tricks. Nobody sees you.
I called her family in Arcachon. They don't know where she is.
- Don't think about it. - I can't help it.
Want me to play the cop? Just give me a policeman's helmet.
Thanks, it's nice of you but...
Come on, let's go to a brothel.
It's not as if we know of any.
Bedtime!
Mummy will come for you in the morning.
Goodnight, little man.
I hear you do lousy smashes at tennis!
What did he say?
Nothing.
Best get some sleep. It's late.
Apparently, you always want to smash
but you're awful at it.
Who told you that?
My dad. He can beat you any time.
Ridiculous! Give him a kiss.
Creep!
Great!
She takes off after 13 years and we get the ugly one!
Look, she asked me to have him for one night. What could I say?
- What do we tell Bouly? - Nothing!
She forbids it. So do I.
You too? Does she need a manager now?
She doesn't need anyone.
Especially not him.
The guy's a bastard.
It's been going on for ages. If I were her, I'd...
You'd what?
I warn you, Etienne...
were anything to happen to us, there'd be no holds barred.
Anyway, let's not...
Yes, let's! Since we've started...
You have to protect me.
I may look strong but you know that deep down I'm...
- Not all the time. - Why are you telling me this?
- Because you asked. - Look, Marthe...
- Now where is it? - What?
Are you off your rocker? Who gave you that?
- Mum. Ages ago. - When?
When she moved. She gives her kids everything.
What if you'd shot me?
I wouldn't have, since you wouldn't hurt me.
You're not Bouly.
Guess what he did to Marie-Ange last Thursday, right in front of me.
The secretary calls at ten
to say he's working late at the office.
He did that? Do such ruses still work?
That's just it, they don't.
What was that bang?
Nothing.
You could have knocked.
The door was open.
Right, I'll get back to work.
Will you go to sleep!
Instead of patrolling the hallways!
It's too early.
What time is it?
Yes... Deschanel!
What?
What's wrong with you? Calling me at home!
I told you... I told you!
I said nothing of the sort!
No. I don't want to go out!
No, Deschanel. I'm not going out!
No, Deschanel...
Right. Goodbye. My regards to Maude.
That really takes the biscuit!
What's the matter now?
This is stupid. Shake hands.
You're sure it's a haemorrhage?
I'm on my way, sugar.
Where are you going?
Never you mind. Won't be long.
It's twenty past one.
Who called? Was it Marie-Ange?
Esperanza!
- Hello, Mrs Esperanza. - Hello, Mr Deschanel.
Hello, Dorsay.
Incidentally...
Shouldn't that list for Mauritania be here by now?
The photocopier's broken down. But I've got it.
Oh no, I don't have the time.
Thank you, Mr Deschanel.
Hey, Esperanza,
what did they say at your medical last month?
Hurry, we're starting 15 minutes early.
Why 15 minutes early? They never tell me anything!
It's like an oven in there. No air-conditioning.
If anyone can explain why, drop us a line.
- What's that? - The mock-up for the loan campaign.
Who's that?
Who?
Her.
Ask the minister. He found her.
Where?
On a horse in Saint-Germain. He goes every Thursday.
And what did old beady-eyes spot galloping through the mist?
Money!
She isn't...
No.
Next day...
Hello, godmother.
It was Thursday. Braving Marthe's questions,
I removed my riding boots from the bag which had been their home
since 1958, the year of De Gaulle's return to power,
although the two events were entirely unconnected.
That summer on lle d'Oleron,
having been trained by enthusiasts,
my riding activities were curtailed
by a falling-out between horseflesh and my good self.
As Marthe was quick to point out.
I countered tartly that she had gone back to college
20 years after her last failure.
Then I kissed her, censuring myself for my fit of anger.
Thus attired, I sallied forth on the arm of my godmother
with whom I lunched or dined alone
every Thursday of my life.
I gave no backward glance
but I could feel Marthe's eyes following me closely.
She was still puzzled...
As was the horse that had to contend with me.
I set off at a sedate pace
so that my mount would stay the distance.
But its happy-go-lucky nature
soon led me astray.
And thus did it dawn on me that,
desirable as women are,
horses are high and forests deep...
It's personal.
Would you like to make peace?
What do you mean, "Who's that"?
Someone who had supper alone. At the Recamier.
Rue Recamier.
Is that you?
It is you. My mother had an attack at about 8 pm.
I spent the night at Ambroise Pare.
Obviously you had no way of knowing.
Much better, thank you.
She's up and about.
Do you know the Ascot?
An American bar on the Champs-Elysees.
Six o'clock.
You will?
Pavillon du Regent?
I'd like to book a table for two for this evening.
Nine o'clock.
Blomet.
Mr Blomet.
I hear you also have some...
small bungalows.
Now where did I read that?
The girls are out, Lucien. What do you want?
Don't come in, there's no point.
And what's with the skis?
I'm selling them to a friend. We'll need the money.
I told you not to come in!
Have you had a smallpox jab?
Why do you ask? Just leave me alone!
If we go to Mexico with Friends of the Louvre
as I said in my letter, you'll need a jab.
I'm not going to Mexico with you, Lucien!
Otherwise it's southern Morocco.
No... No!
I'm married with children.
To you it may seem stupid and conventional.
- I must say... - That's just the way it is!
You're only 17, I'm 41. Poor fool!
- You know, society... - Go away!
Have you had a smallpox jab?
It's you who's small and poxy!
I've been running. It was ringing as I arrived.
No. Go ahead.
Really? At the Ministry or his place?
Don't worry about me. There'll be fifteen of us here
and I don't know how long... What?
You know it wasn't very smart to call me "small and poxy".
You must be unhappy to resort to that.
Why are you giving me all these details?
Because you're explaining everything:
the phone, the Germans, the schedule...
I'll scream.
So will I. You'll be more embarrassed.
You'd better call Simon though.
He's expecting you to dinner. I told him I wasn't free.
I didn't know you were...
Yes. I suppose it's for Bouly's kid.
She came...
How come you're here?
You mother's hairdryer was playing up. It's the fuse.
It worked this summer
when me and Mouchy did the Massif Central.
I won't be cooking souffles...
Mind your backs!
Come on, you scouts. It's ready.
Don't you have anything for stoning olives?
It's all in the bag: plates, bowls...
camping table...
What's that? What time is it?
Come and sit down.
Help yourself.
What was your totem?
Don't wind me up. I was never a scout.
Do you want to know how I stoned the olives?
There!
Artistic, isn't it?
You're disgusting.
So you made it. How are you?
Just imagine, that idiot went and...
Anyway, he didn't turn up.
We waited and waited.
To employ a rather bold image, we are but pawns.
Have you eaten?
I hate anyone going through my things! You did it again!
Yes, I did!
My sister advised me to get a bailiff's report.
What does your sister know?
She's going to be a lawyer I'll have you know.
It's nothing to do with bailiffs.
Surely you don't expect her to pay you alimony.
Sorry but he makes me laugh.
Go and have a word with him.
Mouchy, can't you see...
Talk to him, I say! Or would you rather I put the gas on?
Then say so now!
Hello, Etienne. Don't get up.
Hello, my poor Bouly.
Simon told me. You're living alone? I envy you, believe me.
You've had a haircut!
- Want some? - No, thanks.
- Still as beautiful as ever. - Flatterer!
I get a letter. Perfectly innocent.
Nothing improper.
You can read it. A boy I met at some friends'.
It's a free country. He can write, can't he?
Mum!
Well, him...
He makes a fuss! By what right?
I said, "Until we're married, keep your comments to yourself."
- Know what he said? - Why are you telling us this?
If I can't even get a warm welcome at my son's...
You want me out too!
No, but you just turn up like a tornado!
Everything was nice and peaceful...
So you expect me to write before visiting?
I live next door but I need an appointment. Like a patient!
Look at these men here. They're staring at you.
Have you no shame?
No shame! Are you talking to your mother or Mrs Luberon?
- Mrs Luberon? - No shame!
What's Mrs Luberon got to do with it?
I know what you're up to with Mrs Luberon!
Women liked Simon but they had to like him discretely.
For 35 years he'd had
this love affair with his mother.
She was his sunshine and his bane.
The man who lived with her was called Charles du Tillet.
His playful stoicism commanded our respect.
Mouchy liked to claim he was an "international sports shoe boss".
He looked a lot older than he was.
He had his reasons.
Consumed by problems which, with hindsight, were academic,
my friends failed to realise that, despite my missed rendezvous,
I was setting sail for a strange land populated by just one woman.
In matters equestrian, my progress stuttered somewhat.
Oddly, the animal seemed to sympathise with my predicament,
even keeping lookout behind the locker room
from where - alas! - we saw no sign of a woman in red.
At the Ministry, my sporting development went unnoticed.
Still, Mrs Epseranza's behaviour towards me
remained inexplicably shady.
I was racked by questions I dared not ask her.
The advantage their intuition affords women over men
had maybe alerted her to an intrigue the day I was mad enough
to call the young lady in red in her office.
It all suggested that Mrs Esperanza, a wife and mother,
was siding with Marthe whom she had never met.
Whatever the reason, after much thought,
I opted to ignore her, despite the provocation.
I did suffer, however, a short period of depression...
Come on! Forwards! Hey!
Forwards! Come on!
However futile my search, I was as patient as ever.
But it was taking its toll physically.
Especially as I had to keep up tennis
which Marthe knew I was so keen on.
Nevertheless, I likened my predicament to happiness
when compared to the misfortune of a friend
who always put on a brave face for us
despite his anxiety.
Marie-Ange had vanished.
Bouly was camping out at home
with the equipment lent to him by Simon.
As for myself, just as hope was slipping away,
my life became a fairytale...
Whoa, Morning Glory!
He's exquisite. I know horses.
I'd seen him many times in his stall and he...
He's... Whoa! He's...
He's superb.
Yes, she is beautiful.
We've met before.
Let me see...
The Ministry when I signed my contract.
Are you sure?
Do you ride often?
Every day for years now. And you?
No, only for the last 4 or 5 years.
Then you must have started as a kid.
About the other night. It was cruel, but well played.
The other night?
All right...
Oh, my whip!
Apologise, Morning Glory.
When a horse is stupid...
Careful, Morning Glory!
- Thanks. - You're welcome.
Now keep still.
You forgot that!
Sorry?
Excuse me.
- Well then? - About time!
Hey, don't rush!
- Sorry. I had a puncture. - Again?
Your phone was engaged.
Change your tune or your tires.
- Did a bird bite your knees? - No. Don't you believe me?
- No. - Who plays with who?
This is the decider.
Simon is serving. Come on!
Just a minute! Let him warm up.
He'll warm up as he plays.
Give us a break, will you?
Come on, serve!
I've located the kids.
What? And you just say it...
I could hardly sing it.
- Where? - With their uncle in Dunkirk.
We're not even allowed to warm up.
- And Marie-Ange? - Still underground.
Ready?
If she comes back, do I thrash her?
I think that's up to you to...
Simon! Don't let me interrupt you.
Carry on playing, boys.
Play, Bouly. I just want a word with Simon.
Simon, come here.
- What's with all the fur coats? - I'm leaving.
Do you know what he said? And he woke me, too.
Guess! No hints.
I don't know. Don't tell me this here!
Where then? This morning, that madwoman
stopped me going into your office.
Mrs Paquet?
But I was with Mr Simoni!
You lock yourself up with him when your mum's suicidal?
- Mum! - There's nothing wrong with him.
Nothing wrong? Shall I show you his X-rays?
Nothing at all. Ask Mrs Paquet!
But he pays you, so he can just stroll in.
Do I have to pay money to see you? How much?
Stop it! Stop it!
Simon, don't use that tone of voice. I'm still your mother!
I can slap you in front of your friends!
What have I done to deserve this? Mum, must you?
Goodbye, Etienne. Goodbye or farewell!
Farewell, Bouly. I've no time for your news.
But where is she going?
Don't worry, I'm leaving no address.
You'll save on stamps!
Stop it... Stop it!
Goodbye.
See you tomorrow, Pintard.
Goodbye, Delpech.
Dorsay! Just the man I...
I came to return your earring.
My What?
I picked it up when your horse had convulsions.
Yes. But...
It isn't mine. I can't imagine where... No.
What else?
Nothing.
Dinner?
- No. - Tomorrow.
I know a Chinese restaurant.
Lunch?
I'm not free for lunch tomorrow. Nor dinner.
How about tea-time?
You're drenched.
And your tone is a bit dry.
Why?
I'm flustered.
I'm sorry.
You were taken in, there!
- Well... I'm late. - No!
Absolutely not!
- That's just not possible! - What's not possible?
I was about to say something.
Your name, perchance?
Etienne Dorsay.
How old are you? 40?
40-odd.
Tomorrow, 4.30 at La Rhumerie.
- Martinique? - Yes. Will you be there?
I should think so!
The lift still hasn't been repaired.
Hi, kids.
Hi, old fella.
- Fall in some water? - Water fell on me.
Have you seen the weather?
- What about your mac? - My mac...
My mac...
It was at Bouly's.
And today... I lost an earring.
What?
Oh no...
Horses are certainly sweeter than dogs.
Dogs are more...
Horses are colder. But wait.
By cold, don't think I mean...
No.
You'll say it's a cliche but with horses,
when we climb onto their backs, do we humans
ask their opinion?
No.
Charlotte, maybe it's because I never married or maybe it's...
the need to have children
but...
if it weren't for my animal friends, some evenings...
I hate such displays of emotion!
I'm not about to...
Where did you get that suit?
That's just what you needed.
Because to be honest...
that photo of you on the Ministry steps,
the one at your place, it's so lugubrious!
- How many pants? - One.
No, two. You work sitting down.
Michel, one with turn-ups, one without.
And no pockets.
With a half-belt?
Now then... how about a half-belt?
To be honest, I don't know.
Did she just came out with it, "You're a lousy dresser"?
No, she isn't like that. You know Marthe.
She looks at you, silently.
You say, "What's the matter with me?"
That's when she says, "How long have you had that suit?"
Hyenas.
They're all hyenas!
With all those kids around I don't want to lag behind.
- Hairspray, or soft? - No hairspray!
Soft. Totally soft.
You can look at yourself now.
- Crikey! - What?
Errol Flynn...
Hello, godmother.
Hello, girls.
Good evening, Marthe.
Hello, everyone.
Sorry.
I'm late.
I was with... what's his name again?
Pavillon du Regent? Hello.
It's Mr Chabert.
Chabert.
Hold the line, I'll see.
Mr Dorsay.
Yes, if you like, miss.
Miss Charlotte what?
Sorry...
It's for me!
Charlotte? It's Etienne. Aren't you coming?
- I'm in London. - London? Why?
Working. I tried to call but it was engaged.
The minister ofjustice kept me talking for an hour.
Come over here.
Where?
The last plane arrives at 10 pm. I'll wait for you at the airport.
In London?
But...
We'll spend the evening here and return tomorrow at ten.
Tomorrow morning?
Aren't they here yet?
- What's that for? - A party!
- For what? - For fun.
I'm tired so I thought we'd have a knees-up at home.
It'll be great!
I'm sure it will be wonderful.
Look what dad gave me.
An orchid.
What do you want? Whiskey?
Why not?
And take the phone off the hook.
You don't want to make love now...
I said take the phone off the hook.
- Who's that? - No idea.
Are you 90mg?
A telegram.
Telegram? For whom?
For you.
Open it.
- It's the Ministry. - You're joking!
Really. Who's Martin-Guyot?
That guy who's... You know...
The bloke who's head of...
- You know, the department. - He's senior to you?
Not for long but he is for the time being.
Read it out then.
"Your presence vital this evening at Brussels symposium.
"Stop. Return midday tomorrow.
"Martin-Guyot."
No.
Not this time. No, no, no!
I will not go!
- I'm not... - Etienne!
I'm not some puppet! This is the camel that broke the...
- I won't be held hostage! - What are you going to do?
Nothing. I don't know.
Call the minister. I have his private number.
Balzac 14-39. Tell him to go to Brussels with his lackeys.
I'm staying right here.
With my wife and children!
Look, Etienne, you'd better go. Be grown-up about it.
No!
Hey, wait for me!
We shall be arriving in London in 45 minutes...
Oh, shit!
Marie-Ange!
What did she say, Mrs Philippot?
Did she go up to the flat?
- No. - What did she want?
- Her mail. - There was none.
No.
"Driving school"?
There's some guy there.
- A guy? - Yeah, a guy.
When I rang, a guy answered the door with a...
A blue T-shirt. You know, a stripy one.
I don't give a shit. Did you see Marie-Ange?
No.
What did you say?
Nothing. When I saw the guy...
I just said I'd got the wrong buzzer.
I'll drag her out by the scruff of the neck!
Watch yourself.
He's unpleasant.
Bouly's a joker, asking us to...
Let him come and get her. It's not ourjob.
She's not our wife...
Ladies and gentlemen,
we are beginning our descent towards London.
Please fasten your seat belts
and extinguish your cigarettes. Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Due to adverse weather conditions
we are unable to land in London.
We have been diverted to Brussels.
Further information will be available in the airport terminal...
I put the hood up. I felt a few drops.
What happened to you?
The guy's a contender for Wanker of the Year.
It's funny. Blokes like him just wind me up.
Bang, I'm off! Pass me a tissue.
- Shall I treat you? - Leave it out!
Just a scratch.
Wanker!
And did you see Marie-Ange?
Vaguely. She's really hit the jackpot.
Taking 3 kids from their dad for...
Hyenas!
What did you say to her?
Nothing. I was having a spat with that dwarf.
What dwarf?
The guy!
What do we tell Bouly?
I don't know. A bit of tact is called for.
We could write him a letter.
No, no... We'll tell him that...
...there was a driving school because we can't...
As for Marie-Ange... we'll say the bird had... And presto!
We'll think of a nice way to put it.
- Without mentioning the dwarf. - Exactly.
Welcome to Brussels.
Passengers traveling to London
are invited to present themselves at the restaurant
where refreshments will be served.
Further information will be given in due course...
Yes... why are you calling me?
I'm delighted... I know you're in Brussels...
Not at all but...
I wasn't really worried. Brussels isn't...
Oh, you're so sensitive!
No, I was fast asleep. I took a pill...
No. It's your turn.
Last time, I was the one who hung up.
I love you.
One, two, three...
I know he's away.
Mum!
Switch the light off and go to sleep! That's enough!
You're not going to ring all night.
I am.
What do you want?
It's now or never, my love.
To do what?
Go away!
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone!
This'll be disappointing but I have to be frank.
I'm not as tenacious as Moreau in A Sentimental Education.
- Really? - I have to be tough.
Very tough. I know it's hard to be dumped when you're 40
but Lucien Raki is out of your life.
It's for the best.
Are you for banning HGVs from the banks of the Seine?
Why do you ask?
I've got a job with a polling organization.
So since I'm here... are you for?
Well, I don't know... Against.
Goodbye, madam.
Anyway, you gave me a thrill.
At that moment, had I sifted through my past,
I'd have had to admit there had been more pleasant nights.
Yet in this foreign land where chance had plunged me,
I felt the mad wind of adventure on the back of my neck!
A woman awaited me in London,
another in Paris, while I was stranded in sleepy Brussels.
Next day, Charlotte made light of the fog,
and winged her way back to Paris.
There followed a succession of thrills.
Every day between 4.55 pm when I left the office
and 5.50 or 5.52 pm when Marthe came home
- with or without her classmates -
it's fair to say that in the hour we had together
Charlotte and I lived life to the full,
alternating exhilarating excursions with hilarious meetings.
Charlotte and I cultivated the mystery of Charlotte.
She said little about herself. I dared not violate her silences.
Better still, so that she would never for a moment suspect
the obscenity of my intentions
I was careful never to suggest
that we meet after nightfall.
We would part without leaving an address,
her, breathless with pleasure,
me, face puffed-up with desire!
Meanwhile Marthe passed the exams that had so daunted her.
She failed just one oral and was ready to re-sit.
...so hard! You wouldn't believe it.
I admired her.
As for me, I was promoted, without exam or intrigue,
and given Martin-Guyot's job
when he opted to put his pension fund to work.
I was now head of the whole floor
and my promotion, rather than exciting jealousy
as was the custom,
heralded unexpected friendly overtures
from the more aggressive souls.
I was far too busy to seek an explanation for this upturn
on which, although mystified, I congratulated myself.
That summer, the lives of others also took a bewitching turn.
Simon
married off his mother.
He was delighted
and we shared his joy.
Charles married reluctantly
but as Mouchy said at the reception,
"lt's the result that matters."
The wedding party was rambling,
showy and a triumph.
- Whose is this? - Mine.
You're too careless.
But the best surprise of the following week
was the sudden reappearance of Bouly's wife and furniture.
The reasons for her return were vague.
Simon and Daniel claimed they had precipitated
the reunion the evening I had spent away from Paris.
But their account of the incident was confused and contradictory.
As for Bouly, he thought deep down
that the charm he exuded was just too powerful
for the poor girl to resist.
Sad to report that the very next day he was to be found
fishing in the same waters for which he had been punished.
I'll call you in the middle of the night
and say I'm Mrs Luberon. You'll come and find them in bed.
Don't do that. Anyway, you don't know her name.
What is her first name?
Come on, tell us!
Hyacinthe.
We laugh because we're stupid. Hyacinthe's quite nice.
- "Hello, Hyacinthe..." - Hey, guys, who fancies
a game with the ladies?
Save it for when you're at home, not with us.
Don't be ridiculous.
Hello, ladies. How about a game of draughts?
Is it any wonder?
- Is what any wonder? - Nothing.
- Go on, say it. - Nothing. That's my glass!
Check out the pins!
Maybe it's all that running after guys.
Coffees please, Francoise.
No bra, did you notice?
Didn't you see?
- I don't give a damn, stop it! - Stop what? It's cute.
Stupid bitch!
Goal!
Hey, Daniel...
What about my car?
I'd have had it today but the guy's in Marseilles.
Because this one...
has had it!
The key's in the door.
Oh, it's you.
How's it going? It's been awhile...
Been decorating?
Yes. Well, I started but...
You should paint the floor too.
Then put some varnish on it.
Fancy a drink?
Come on.
Let's see what I've got...
Do you like chartreuse?
Well... yes.
I wanted to tell you that my life isn't as transparent...
as people...
I've been hiding someone too.
Just feel the dashboard.
Excuse me, Charlotte. May I call you Charlotte?
Touchit Feels like hide, not wood.
Like a baby's bottom! Go on, tell me what you think.
Spare me the sales patter.
Where should I "depose" you, as we say in Paris?
Puy de I'Ermite, since we're in the area.
You're going to your godmother's?
Of course. Like every Thursday.
Have you met?
What did you tell your poor godmother?
Nothing. It's a surprise.
Well...
That speaks volumes.
We never get invited to dinner at your godmother's.
Pop up for a drink. She'll be pleased.
Quick one, then. I love warm sparkling wine.
You're on a crossing.
Give me a break, I'll only be 5 minutes.
You're on a crossing. You can't stay there.
Etienne! Go up.
I'll park the car...
Seventh floor.
She teaches piano at Marguerite Long's.
She's always lived alone. Her son's married. Lives in Italy.
His name's Claude.
You're beautiful.
You smell nice. What is it?
Sandalwood.
Is that you, Etienne?
Are you in the dark, godmother?
Come and meet...
Happy birthday!
Claude!
And Jeanne!
- Aren't you in San Remo? - They're visiting.
Quite a surprise!
- And Yaya! - Happy birthday!
Not Yaya any more. Christian.
Oh, Marthe, my dear!
Daddy!
My big girls!
You smell nice.
Marthe... Let me introduce you to...
I'm so moved I forgot...
Let me introduce... Let me introduce a friend of...
Hello, godmother!
You didn't tell me!
A surprise for Etienne. We weren't expecting you.
Hi, kids!
Don't bother about me, I can't stay.
I wanted to thank godmother for the sleeveless pullover.
- Etienne gave it to you? - It was too big for me.
He means his shoulders weren't square enough!
Did you say hello, Mimi?
She hasn't had a chance to yet. Fetch some glasses...
No, we really must go.
We're a bit upset. Cost me a fortune, right, babe?
Tickets for Salle Pleyel.
But she loves all that.
You can spare a minute...
No, no. Out of the question. Anyway...
Best go or we'll miss the concert.
Say goodbye, Mimi...
Happy birthday, Etienne!
Do you like the gloves? You can change them.
Why would I change them? They're sensational!
- Is Etienne with you? - What's up?
I need to see him.
Etienne, I don't know what to do. I have to talk to you.
Excuse us, Marthe. He's gone crazy.
He wants to kill himself, kill her. He just stuck one on me.
Who did? How?
Bouly. Marie-Ange has left him again.
She's left him! He's in the car...
Etienne's always been like a big brother to him.
And Bouly adores him, so at a time like this...
- You were right to come. - Look!
Leave me alone! Get lost!
- Where are you going? - To kill her!
Let go! Get your stupid gloves off me!
Button it, Daniel! I'm warning you!
You don't know where she is!
Don't be a fool, Bouly! This is serious.
I'll kill her!
- Bouly! - Bouly no longer exists!
Etienne!
Shall I go back in?
Go back inside.
Got the key?
Come on...
My kids!
But Why?
- I'm bleeding. - You're not. Go on, get in.
Find me a bridge to jump off.
No! Look...
He's crazy. I'm almost deaf.
You're fine. Get in.
- Listen to me... - Shut up!
Have you quite finished?
Shut your face, asshole!
He didn't mean it!
So it was an act!
That really takes the biscuit!
What a cheek!
We didn't know what to get you so...
I don't know her address.
Number 72, she said. On the 8th floor.
What did she say?
She'll tell you herself.
That really hurt!
What about him? He punched me. Good job I've got a six-pack!
I'm sorry.
- I'm pissed off 'cause I can't hear. - You're bleeding.
Here it is.
Happy birthday, Etienne.
It gives me great pleasure...
Give the guy a break!
Etienne Dorsay.
Listen to me, Etienne Dorsay.
A month ago I met an unmarried man with no kids
who likes horses and traveling.
In a month you've got married
and had two 14-year-old daughters.
We've traveled as far as the top of the Arc de Triomphe.
You don't get on horses, rather horses get on top of you.
In the country, your clothes are ridiculed by children.
And you fly to Belgium while I'm waiting in London.
Stop gazing at your shoes
and look at me.
After what happened earlier, I want you
like I've never wanted anyone.
Now why is that?
I don't know.
I want your hands. I want to see your body unclothed.
You mean to say... naked.
Why?
Best not look for explanations.
I suggest you remove your bow tie.
Pitou? It's Marthe. Are your parents there?
Mum and dad are out. I'm alone.
Only he isn't at Simon's. Everybody seems to be out.
No matter. Know when they'll be back?
No. My dad broke a chair.
Had fate decreed that I should be a man of national destiny,
the night I had just spent would have gone down in history.
Having fuelled my gluttony with her silences,
Charlotte said in a second
what I had been unable to say for a month.
"Come."
A wonderful command that put a spark into my life.
But such is the ugliness of the male soul
that leaving Marthe did not cross my mind,
not even for an alimony amounting to 35.8% of my salary
after deductions,
as it would have others in my position...
Simone?
Simone...
What is it?
Nothing. It's my husband. He's downstairs.
Your husband!
Yes. Quick...
What do you mean? What husband?
Come on, move. Hurry!
The pillow!
He's meant to be away all week.
It's only Friday.
Shall we demand an explanation?
Your watch...
What are you doing?
Leave him to me. I'll talk to him.
No! Leave him to me.
Come on, quick!
No, that's the window...
I know. It's either that or the door.
No, no. Don't worry.
Just stand on the ledge.
I won't be long. He won't stay.
Go on, don't worry. Wait for me there.
Your clothes!
They're all folded up, in the bathroom.
Coming!
I'd better go, Denis is at the door.
I was on the phone.
To Jeannette.
Hello, darling!
Hey, look!
- What's the matter? - That chap up there.
No. He isn't here.
Is he going to jumP?
We land in Marrakech at... ten past three.
But I have to work on Monday.
I'll put you on the Sunday night plane.
- You're beautiful, you know. - What?
I said you're beautiful. You heard me well enough.
Stop it, Denis !
We'd better call the fire brigade.
There's a guy wants to jump off a building...
Look, there he is!
Hey, are you coming?
I'm coming but I'll skip the game.
What now?
Thanks to your bullshit she's left me for good.
Marie-Ange?
We got back so late she thought I was with some bird.
- Shit! - Damn!
- Did she take the furniture? - No. What's up with you?
There was a ruptured spleen so His Nibs here...
When Luberon got there, the guy was dead so he went home,
found fat boy and...
But he was nice about it. Took me to get the bullet out.
What a guy!
- Isn't Etienne with you? - Why would he be?
Not the ladder! It scares them.
Nearly always makes them jump.
Come on!
Did she say she'd drop by?
If only to see the kids...
...at the junction of Rue de Tilsitt and Avenue de la Grande Armee.
The building is right on the corner of the two streets.
Fire Chief Commandant Claudon
is on the scene with his men
who are trying to reach the ledge from the roof...
- Who touched the aerial? - Not me!
That chap looks like dad!
Etienne...
Be sensible, sir!
Don't stay there!
Jump. Be a good lad.
Come on, jump. Be a good lad, OK?
With Charlotte gone,
I was suddenly troubled by the thought
that should Marthe leave me
it would not be without good reason.
Nevertheless I took steps
to ensure a soft landing.
I counted, in my solitude, a large number of women
in the welcoming committee below.
I couldn't help noticing one of them
photographing me.
One of those blondes one refers to
as "platinum".
In actual fact, my ascent had barely begun...
Subtitles by Kevin Smith for Eclair Group