There she is.
Bonjour, madame. How much for a reading?
Three francs, dear, and it's written on the door.
I'm sorry.
I cannot see.
-We've got to go. We're late. -We'll miss the bus.
Thank you, madame.
What do you see?
I see your 34th year.
Shut up.
That's the porter.
He spotted me as I was making my getaway.
These are first-year rooms, aren't they?
They're very luxurious.
The ones at Yale are like monk's cells.
"Aristotle and Virtue." Oh, God, I'm sorry.
-lt doesn't matter. -Of course it does. I ruined them.
Wait.
It's getting heavier out there, huh?
-Do you mind if I stay here till it eases off? -No. Of course you can.
-I go out with one of the dons. -I know. Julian Ellsworth.
We just had an awful row. I can't go back to his rooms.
I have to get out of these togs.
Excuse me.
Help.
It's completely stuck to me.
I don't mind if it tears.
Thanks.
Bless you.
I can't let you go out in this. You can sleep in my bed.
But we haven't been introduced.
I'll sleep on the chair and keep watch.
That's very noble, but I wouldn't dream of kidnapping your bed.
You're taking a terrible risk having me here at all.
-Sorry. -No. Don't apologize.
-I'm flattered. -lt doesn't normally....
I should hope it does.
-I'm Gilda Besse. -I know who you are.
-That sounds ominous. -You're famous around here.
-Where are you from? -Dublin originally.
-We moved up north after the Treaty. -Why was that?
My father was a policeman.
And he was killed during the Troubles.
So are you British or lrish?
On paper, I'm British. But I don't believe in countries much.
Nor do l.
-How did you end up here? -I got a scholarship.
Beauty, bravery, and brains.
What a catch.
You also have a nice willy, and I hope to dream about it.
-Good night, Guy. -Good night.
We made it. I owe you my life.
You don't owe me anything. It was fun.
Everyone knew Gilda Besse.
Her father owned one of the big French champagne houses.
Her mother was a rich American socialite.
The marriage hadn't lasted...
and Gilda had lived most of her life in the United States.
She was quite notorious at Cambridge...
and last night, she had actually slept in my bed.
If anyone knew, I'd be a celebrity overnight.
Are you Guy Malyon?
-Yeah. -Julian Ellsworth.
I'm incredibly grateful about the other night. Gilda said you were a brick.
I really can't thank you enough. You saved my bacon.
I'd have been dismissed and most likely disinherited if they'd found her here.
Glad to have been of help.
Listen, we're having a bit of a beano at the weekend.
Gilda wanted me to invite you.
Don't know if you're much of a jitterbugger...
but the old man's away, I'll have the run of the place.
You need a girl, of course.
I can line one up.
When I was a freshman, I didn't know what girls were.
I'm afraid Mr. Ellsworth won't allow you in unless you first drink one of these.
The password is "martini."
God, it tastes like paraffin!
One doesn't taste it, darling, one simply swallows.
-New blood. -Hello, old boy.
You girls should want to dance with me this evening...
because Gilda has got herself stranded in Calais.
-Poor Gilda. -Do come through.
Calais is such a dreadful place.
-Hello, Guy. -Hi.
Glad you could make it.
You're the troubled boy...
whose girlfriend Julian is planning to monster.
-Are you sad? -I'm thrilled for her.
You don't mind if she gets debauched?
So long as the debaucher's from a fucking good family, I couldn't care less.
Do you imagine you're being incredibly daring using words like that?
You should try them sometime. It's good for constipation.
I'm going to feel so wicked in the morning.
What are you writing?
An ode to your tummy button.
-Gilda. -Sir Knight.
-Don't go up there. -Why shouldn't I go upstairs?
-There's an orgy going on. -Sounds promising.
My partner for the evening's the main course.
Your partner isn't Molly Twelvetrees, by any chance, is she?
Yeah. She's in danger of catching a cold.
-Julian's writing a poem on her stomach. -What a cad.
Don't you mind?
I feel sorry for Molly. He's a terrible poet.
You're very modern, aren't you?
I don't feel very comfortable here.
I feel guilty being around all this wealth.
It's just a game. Don't take it seriously.
It's not much of a game if you're out of work and trying to feed a family.
Fortunately, I'm not.
And neither are you.
I only came here tonight to see you.
-There, I've said it. -Good.
You look lovely.
You don't.
Your eyes are all red. You look like a bloodhound.
You have excellent recuperative powers.
-What if someone comes? -We were here first.
-Oh, God! -Think Sunday School.
-What? -Think Sunday School.
-Why? -Because this is a team sport.
Thank you, Unwin.
-I thought it might be prudent to-- -Good idea.
Good morning, Unwin.
I thought we might have breakfast on the terrace this morning.
Gilda! What on earth are you doing down here?
Happy birthday, darling.
-Who's that? -My friend, Guy.
You really had your hands full when I got in.
Gilda, he's a virtual primitive.
I know. He's the Piltdown man. I'm planning to exhibit him.
-Julian, nothing happened. -I don't for a moment think anything did.
Apart from us writing sonnets all over each other.
All right. Do you mind getting up, please, before anyone else sees you?
Be a darling and lend me your dressing gown, would you?
Gilda, what have you got on under there?
Well, seeing it's your big day...
I'm wearing my birthday suit in your honor.
I thought for certain I would hear that Gilda and Julian had broken up...
but nothing seemed to have changed between them.
A few weeks passed...
and just when I'd resigned myself to never being with her again...
something unexpected happened.
-The divorce was at least 1 2 years ago. -Yeah, she must be devastated.
Can I join?
That's five shillings annual membership fee.
I read about your mother. It must have been awful.
She was a stranger to me, really.
-But how have you been? -Practicing my billiards.
I wanted to see you, to tell you that I'm leaving England.
Why?
The wanderlust has got me. I want to travel.
Where will you go?
I loved the Arabian Nights when I was younger.
Maybe I'll start there.
Would you like a traveling companion?
You have to finish your degree.
-Does Julian know? -I'll leave him a nice letter.
You're the one friend from this chapter I'd like to keep.
Three weeks later, Gilda left England.
And so began our one-sided correspondence.
For she was never in one place long enough for my letters to catch up with her.
After a year, she stopped writing.
By the time I graduated and began teaching in the East End of London...
I'd managed to finally put her behind me.
Civil war had broken out in Spain...
and I was campaigning for the Republican side...
in its increasingly desperate fight against the Fascists.
Tiberius is in a bad mood! Where are those slaves?
We'll see how brave you are in the Coliseum.
Take away their drinking water.
I hadn't had a letter from her for almost a year.
But Gilda always had an uncanny sense of timing.
She was back in Paris...
telling me a whole new chapter of her life was beginning...
and demanding I visit her.
Once more, nothing else in the world existed for me.
Bonjour.
Guy! You came! And so soon!
Well, you finally sent me an address.
Look at you. Suddenly you're a man.
I even shave now.
-How long can you stay? -Only till tomorrow. I have to work.
That's ridiculous. You have to stay for at least a month.
-You'll be able to see my show. -What sort of show?
You'll see tonight.
I saw you in a film as a slave in ancient Rome.
-Wasn't it ludicrous? -How did you get the part?
I met an American cameraman and went back to Hollywood with him.
At first I wanted to be an actress...
but then I got more interested in cameras.
I'd pick his brains in bed every night.
Are you married yet?
-Not quite. -Good.
I'm sure you have a menagerie of admirers.
-So what do you do after work? -I raise money for Republican Spain.
I forgot you had a conscience.
Max! This is Guy.
He just arrived from London.
Welcome to Paris. Are you here for the opening?
He doesn't know anything about it, so he'll be completely objective.
Right.
Where are you staying?
There's a hotel my friends like, just around the corner.
He's staying here.
He and Mia can sing each other to sleep.
Good.
This is going to be incredibly glamorous, isn't it?
And I'm going to be incredibly dowdy.
You're British. People expect it.
Do you mind?
So Max is a lover?
He owns the gallery.
Actually, he's good company...
but he's become extremely proprietorial lately.
-He's on very thin ice. -Then I hope it melts.
Don't sulk.
I didn't know you were coming so soon.
And anyway...
I'm sure you're not sleeping alone in London every night.
Moments of yearning. Lust, vanity, and joy.
Loves won and lost.
It's an honor to be the first to host the work...
of this gifted new photographer.
Finally, as a bonus, may I present a living sculpture...
created especially for tonight?
The pictures were good of their kind. But the sculptures were something else.
The trouble is we're never going to see them again.
You should film them, Gilda. Record them for posterity.
They need to be live, so people can lean over...
and smell the skin of the models.
Does that worry you, Mia?
Having people sniffing around you like dogs?
I'm a sculpture, so I ignore them.
What about you, Guy?
Have you seen anything like that in England?
No, I haven't.
Guy thinks art should be political.
In London, he spends most of his time campaigning for Republican Spain.
German artists spent the last 15 years lampooning the Nazis...
and had no effect at all.
At least they tried.
Rather pointless if all they achieve is a ticket to one of those camps.
And the satisfaction of knowing they had the courage of their convictions.
Here's to judicious cowardice.
No. Here's to Mia, whose beauty inspired us all.
You should model for Coco Chanel. I could introduce you.
Mia's training to be a nurse.
She only models in her spare time, and I have an exclusive contract.
But I do feel I've seen you before. I never forget a face.
Perhaps you saw me at Le Grand Jeu.
So how do you carry on your crusade for Spain?
Do you sit on a committee and hand out pamphlets in the street?
And if you really feel so strongly...
why don't you enlist in the lnternational Brigades?
I plan to at the end of school term.
-Are you serious? -Yeah, I am.
Well, the line must be drawn.
Fascism must be stopped before it engulfs us all.
Good night.
-You've become so serious. -The world has become serious.
We'll all die of gravity.
I'm sorry I can't be with you tonight.
-Do you even like him? -Occasionally.
But I admit, he's trying a little too hard at the moment.
Mia, get out of the bath! You'll turn into a prune!
I take it Le Grand Jeu is a cabaret?
Burlesque. Striptease.
She came here with nothing. She's my protege.
I want the three of us to be friends.
Gilda, are you coming?
I'll see you in the morning.
This one's comfortable.
I used to sleep here when I first came.
-How long have you been here? -Half a year.
Whereabouts in Spain are you from?
Asturias. In the north.
Don't be jealous. He's not special to her.
None of them are.
He wants you to hear.
He's afraid of her feelings for you.
Yeah, well, I'm afraid of mine for her.
-Who is it? -It's me.
How dare you be so pathetically melodramatic walking out on me like that?
What's there to drink? I'm bone dry.
Hello.
-This is Linda. -Hello, Gilda.
I'm sorry I woke you.
I got seasick on the boat...
and then I tried to eat something to settle my stomach...
but the food in this country is awful.
-ls this a bad time? -What do you think?
Does Max know you're here?
Max was being very boring about you, so I expelled him.
I'm not going to let you go and get yourself killed.
You'd probably come back with your brain shot out.
Conversations would be incredibly one-sided.
Now, get me a blanket and you can go back to bed.
-What are you doing? -I'm going.
She's sleeping in there. I'm just getting her some bedclothes.
Guy, I was with you at the cinema.
After you saw her, you hardly spoke the rest of the day.
And when you got her letter, you couldn't get on a train fast enough.
I'm off.
-There's no need. -I've got an early start in the morning.
And besides, I think I'm a bit in the way.
-You didn't ask her to leave, did you? -No.
Seeing as she has, I suppose I don't have to sleep rough.
You've no idea how I adored you at Cambridge.
And when I arrived here, nothing had changed.
It was miraculous.
I couldn't stand lying on the other side of that door...
Iistening to you and your lover, though. That was torture.
Don't worry.
I'm still in good voice.
By the time we're finished...
you'll be so conceited, you'll be insufferable.
How do you like my tie?
It's perfect.
So how did you and Mia meet?
I saw her on the street. Followed her to a cafe.
You choose people, don't you? "Come into my life."
Sometimes you see complete strangers, but there's something special about them...
and you think, "l should really try and talk to them...
"because I'll never see them again," but you don't...
because it's not done.
But it's all fated, anyway.
It had to be your room I came into that night in Cambridge.
What do you mean?
The whole room was familiar. I'd seen it before in dreams.
It probably reminded you of some place you've been before.
We just think we've dreamt things.
You're so complacent!
The mind isn't a physical thing like the rest of the body.
Maybe it can jump forward in dreams. Maybe it doesn't have to obey physical laws.
But if my room was already there...
then that would mean everything was fixed in advance.
You think I was being spontaneous...
but I was always going to do that.
Just as I was always going to win this argument.
That's what I learned at school.
I've got to work out what I'm going to do.
-Resign from your teaching for a start. -And what do I live on?
-I'll give you a job as my assistant. -How's the pay?
Good bonuses.
I listen to them every night.
-Do we keep you awake? -She can sleep through anything.
She has amazing conversations in her sleep. Three or four people.
Sometimes speaking different languages.
So, do you accept?
You odious little boy. How's that?
Now the horrible little girl has turned around.
Hello. We're just off to the pictures.
So, Guy...
you have forsaken London for the City of Light?
It seems so.
Mia!
-Change in here. -Why?
He came to the exhibition.
He won't be seeing anything he hasn't seen before.
You were part of my sculpture. You're flesh and blood now.
What are you doing going out with him, anyway?
I'm curious.
You know what they say about him.
You should hear what they say about you.
Your dresser has excelled herself.
-So you're having dinner afterwards? -We haven't decided.
-What time should I bring her back? -Shut up.
-See you both later. -Bonsoir.
You're a very lucky man, living with two beautiful women.
But Gilda still doesn't approve of me.
Sometimes I think she's jealous.
You seem to have a calming influence on her.
She used to move in wild circles, but I'm sure you know that.
-And you don't care. -No, I don't.
Very commendable. The past and the future are irrelevant.
The moment is everything.
You know, at first I thought you were an idealist, a bore.
But you're one of us, after all.
Tell me, as one man to another...
what does Gilda like in bed?
As one man to another?
That's none of your business.
Come on, Mia. Dance for us.
-Please? -It's Christmas.
-Come on. -All right.
Why not?
What are you two talking about?
-You. -And what are you saying?
What are you saying?
It's past 4:00. We've almost lost Christmas Day. Come on.
I'm starving.
An American turkey made an ill-starred bid for freedom at Whipsnade Zoo today...
only to touch down in the arctic fox enclosure with mixed results.
A happy ending for the fox, less so for the turkey.
The weather in....
I'm sorry. I don't understand a word.
You don't need to.
If an animal made those sounds, you'd know it was evil.
All he's saying is that when Greater Germany is restored...
he'll have no other territorial claims.
And you believe him?
I used to paint pictures of all these places when I was home from boarding school.
-Can I see them? -I threw them all away.
I had no talent of my own. I just wanted to be van Gogh.
-Bonjour, Francoise. -Bonjour, mademoiselle.
What are you doing, Father?
I am saving the lives of insects.
I've never seen you so compassionate.
I don't like the popping sounds they make.
Why are you wearing your uniform?
There was a rally in Rheims, the Croix-de-Feu.
Our Popular Front is not quite so popular here in the country.
The world is veering towards Moscow...
which is a little worrying for us minor landowners.
But politics has never been one of my daughter's stronger points.
Take your feet off the couch.
-Charles Besse. -Guy Malyon.
You'll be joining us for dinner?
Guy recently moved here from England.
So, how's the acting?
I only did that one film. It was never going to be a career.
Whatever next? I can't keep up with her.
First it was dance, and her room was full of ballet.
Then she discovers Stendhal, and, of course, she wants to be a great novelist.
And then there was what, painting?
One thing I learned from you, Father, was never to dwell on one's mistakes.
-Where's my stepmother? -She's probably out walking the dogs.
What happened to that Max fellow?
A light of other days.
I sired a dilettante, in every aspect of her life.
That's why I resent you, for bequeathing me such superficial genes.
They say a winemaker's taste is the last of his senses to desert him.
But Gilda tells me that you're not much interested in wine.
-I was brought up on Guinness. -We drink Guinness in France.
-Very good for an upset stomach. -The old hair of the dog.
Indeed.
Why, Gilda, you're looking very fetching tonight.
She likes to startle me by wearing her mother's things.
I think she intends to make me feel guilty.
You see, she blames me for her mother's death.
I don't blame you, Father.
Fate deals some people a rotten hand, that's all.
Fate is an excuse for people who suffer a failure of nerve.
-So it was her fault, was it? -No, not at all.
It's absolutely and completely my fault. I am an insensitive brute.
You see, darling? You married a beast.
I married a beast because I'm a huntress.
And if I can't tame you, I'll shoot you.
Then I must mend my ways.
Isn't your birthday coming up soon, dear?
Now, we must do something to celebrate this year.
You know I never celebrate my birthdays.
If you're afraid of birthdays already, you'll be a wreck when you're my age.
I can't imagine ever being that old.
Thank you, Gilda.
There's something about that house that turns me into a monster.
I didn't like his politics, but I enjoyed the repartee.
He ends up humiliating all his women.
You saw her, how hard she was trying.
All he wants her for is to show her off to his shooting friends.
Mia, we're back.
That bastard.
-You don't have to go to work today. -I'm all right.
I'm all right.
-Should we tell the police? -She was a striptease dancer.
They'd say she asked for it.
-Then I'll go round and see him myself. -And end up in a cell?
He has powerful friends.
Lucien? Gilda Besse.
Mia doesn't know I'm calling.
She got a little carried away the other night.
Yes, that's right.
I like it the way you do.
And I'm stronger than she is.
-I thought we should meet. -I see.
-Guy? -Yeah?
Max wants to have lunch today. He wants to talk about another exhibition.
-Do you mind? -No, of course not.
You should take Mia to a film or something. She needs to get out.
-That's a good idea. -Maybe a comedy.
I thought you might change your mind.
My English friend tells me I'm very stubborn.
-I assume he doesn't know where you are? -No one does.
Perhaps I should lock the door.
Why did you decide to become a nurse?
I wanted to be a dancer.
My father was a coal miner. An anarchist.
Our house was full of politics all the time...
but I would always be running away to dance.
Two years ago, they declared a Socialist Republic in Asturias.
A house in our street became a hospital.
I tried to help, but I didn't know anything.
And people were...
dying in my arms.
And then the soldiers came.
I tried to stop them from taking my brother, and that's when they hurt my leg.
After that, I knew I couldn't be a dancer.
And I wanted to help people.
So that's why I am becoming a nurse...
and why I need to go back to my country.
-Hello. -How did it go?
-lt was fine. -You're doing another exhibition?
We played around with a few different ideas. I did most of the talking.
Why are you two looking so miserable? Trois cognacs.
We saw a newsreel on Spain.
You were supposed to be cheering her up.
It was my idea.
We wanted to see what else was going on in the world.
There will always be wars...
while there are people dying to be martyrs.
Go on. Say how guilty you feel.
Afterwards, we sat out in the gardens.
I'm serious. You need to get it out of your system.
Because you feel guilty that life is good here...
while terrible things are happening there.
After you've talked about it, you'll feel better because you've shown you care.
To you...
for getting rid of that vile man.
And you...
for getting rid of your guilt.
-To us. -To us.
You live in a cocoon. You don't think about the world outside.
I give my allegiance to those around me.
We share the world, whether we like it or not.
You can share my bed as long as you don't bring your newsreels or newspapers into it.
Marry me.
-What? -I'm serious.
If I woke one morning and you'd turned into a husband, I'd flee.
How would it be any different?
Once people get married, they stop trying.
-Anyway, you would want to have children. -One day.
You should have one with Mia. He'd be beautiful.
Sometimes you say the first thing that comes into your head.
Should I censor what I say?
If I had a child, I'd have it with you.
My mother was mad. You've met my father. I have doomed genes.
You talk such nonsense.
What's wrong?
Things are getting worse in Spain. There are friends of mine there now.
And you want to go get yourself killed, too, in someone else's war?
It's not someone else's war.
It's as much ours as if it was happening here.
We all share the same world.
Any trained nurses they'll take at once. I've got an address for you to go to.
Who'll take any trained nurses at once?
I'm going to Spain.
I didn't want to say anything until it was definite.
And it's time for me to go back, too.
They need nurses there.
We've been living together for a year.
Am I such an ogre that you can't even discuss your plans with me?
I didn't see much point.
You didn't see much point in talking about throwing away your life?
And taking Mia with you?
I was always going to go back once I became a nurse.
You would just never listen.
Of course. I should have seen it coming.
You feed each other's guilt.
It's like a disease.
Thank God it hasn't infected me.
Gilda's father was traveling in America...
and as a kind of farewell, we spent the last week at the Chateau.
The sense of our departure hung over every moment...
though it was never mentioned again until the last day.
I can't drink any more.
Yes, you can.
We're drinking for all those times...
we won't be able to drink together again.
There'll be periods of leave when I can come back to Paris.
I wouldn't want to see you if you came back with some hideous injury.
Come on, we're still drinking. You're not going to sleep.
-Wake up. -I'm tired.
Gilda, you're drunk.
Why do you have to go as well?
Traitor.