A Good Year Page #3

as soon as possible.

And what about, uh,

Monsieur and Madame Duflot?

Look, in all cases like this,

it simply

just comes down to a figure.

Well, if there's nothing else,

I have a plane to catch.

Right.

You're selling La Siroque?

There has been a mistake, I think.

News travels fast.

But your uncle,

he meant for you to have it,

not sell it.

Well, I'm sure if he did,

he would have written

that down in a proper will.

He didn't.

You know, Henry was not

English the way you are.

He was a man of secrets,

a man of passion.

He didn't write things down.

You would take me

away from my vines?

My vines, Duflot.

I live in them,

I breathe in them.

They tear my hands.

Look, Francis, when

I sell the property,

I do intend to make you

a handsome settlement.

Do you know, monsieur,

what it is to love something

more than your own life?

To submit your days and nights

to the fickle will of nature?

I have only a few vintages left.

Soon my body and spirit will

be defeated by the terroir.

And you would dare come

here and take away

my last few chances of immortality?

Afraid so. Be in touch.

Leaving now.

Oh, good.

'Cause Sir Nigel has made

a special trip, Max.

- Is everything okay?

- Everything's fine.

Good. Oh, did you remember

to take photos for Charlie?

Yes.

- Damn it!

Idiot.

Let's see you then.

One... two...

...and go!

- Yes?

- Get in the car.

Get off my camera.

- Bollocks!

Oh, come on!

Where's the ladder?

Where are you, tosser?

- Hold on!

Come to Papa. Come to Papa.

Gemma, for God's sake, keep calling!

Hello.

Oh, no, don't worry about me.

I'm... I'm the pool man.

I do this every Thursday.

It's just routine maintenance.

It's been lovely chatting to you.

And, and you are

a spectacular vision.

But any chance for a rope

or a ladder?

Is that your little car?

Uh, yes, I'm the temporary custodian

of the lime green roller skate,

but it's a hired car; it's a rental.

It's not for sale. Sorry?

- Can you swim?

- Well, yes, but...

but not in a foot of cow sh*t.

Hello?

Will all passengers on Flight...

He's not on the flight.

Right, right.

Okay, roger that.

What is it, Major Lawrence,

that attracts you, personally,

to the desert?

It's clean.

I like it because it's clean.

Great.

You better be in prison, Maxie.

Yes, just tell him I'm sorry.

There was nothing

I could do about it.

Sorry's no good, Max.

He's gone.

Oh, sh*t.

Um, what time is the first

flight out in the morning?

Oh, there's no point

in rushing back, Max.

You know, the last thing

Sir Nigel did on his way out

- was to suspend you for a week.

- What?

What the f- does he expect me

to do for a week?

Take a holiday?

Christ, he didn't say that, did he?

No, I just did.

Right, Gemma. Never say that.

If anybody calls,

do not say I'm on holiday.

All right?

That's worse than dying.

Now, look.

I'll be back in the office

in a couple of days.

- You just make sure

- Okay.

That every man jack

in there is ready.

Set it up so I can

trade in Kenny's name.

What?

Get him a clearance

at the highest level

on Sir Nigel's recommend.

Are you mad, Max?

Who cares? Just do it.

Don't tell anybody, all right?

Especially not that

little sh*t, Kenny.

Max, is there a problem?

No, I'm having a great time.

- You sure?

- Yes.

- You just be careful, okay? Okay. Ciao.

- Okay.

Bye.

- Oh, sh*t!

Sh*t! Scorpion! Scorpion!

Ludivine!

Scorpion!

- Oh! Drop it! Bloody hell!

Get that little bastard!

Of course.

Okay.

Fits very well; beautifully.

Max?

Are you back in Blighty?

On the contrary, chuckles.

I've decided to stick around

for a couple of days.

So it's true,

you are getting the sack.

No, I'm not getting

the sack, Charlie.

I'm just exploring my options,

with a view to realizing

the full potential

of my inheritance.

Well, speaking

of your inheritance,

how soon before we can view?

It's cosmetic stuff mostly, I'd say.

Surprising, actually,

how well it's been maintained.

Hmm. So you don't need

a contractor or anything like that?

Uh, no, no, no, no.

Just needs a...

a coat of paint

and a bit of a scrub.

Okay, you sure?

- No problem at all, Charlie.

- Good.

Charlie?

Charlie, can you hear me?

- Yes.

Can you hear me now?

- Yes.

- Look, I wasn't joking before

about what I said

about the wine they make here.

It is not, I repeat,

not first-class.

- Will that affect our price?

- Well, how bad can it be?

Uh, well,

it gives you a blinding headache

- and it makes you angry.

- Ah.

I can't imagine the damage

a second sip might do.

Well, we'll just have

to make sure

our buyers don't know

anything about wine.

We'll concentrate on the Americans.

Just make sure she's match-fit

in 72 hours.

Righto.

A Lamborghini tractor.

Paintbrush...

paintbrush, paintbrush.

Paintbrush!

You old bugger.

Duflot.

I was just about to use

that paintbrush.

It's my paintbrush.

Gee whiz.

This is fun.

Tell you what,

I'll give you 20 euros

for your paintbrush.

- Hmm?

- No.

No?

Fifty.

I'll give you a hundred euros

for your paintbrush, Duflot.

I don't care.

What do you want?

When you sell, I stay vigneron.

I keep my vines.

You want to stay with your vines?

- Mm-hmm.

- Fine.

That means you...

must help me...

fix the place up-

do the gardens,

paint the house,

clean the pool- and I,

if at all possible,

will attempt to convince

the new owners

of the worth and value

of your services.

D'accord?

A Frenchman's hand

is his word.

An Englishman's word is his bond.

- Concord?

- Deal.

Frog tosspot.

English prick.

No.

Awfully sorry.

Goal of the day.

Bat. Come on.

Here comes the ball!

Champion of the over- unh!

Let's play.

Come on.

All right, I'm 12-none out.

Okay.

It won't last one month.

If things go

according to plan, Francis,

it will be somebody else's problem.

Monsieur Max!

Yes?

There is, um... a person

- at the door.

- A person?

A person.

Bonjour.

Bonjour.

The only country that issues

teeth like that is America.

Oh.

You speak English.

- Like a native.

I'm Christie Roberts.

I'm looking for Mr. Skinner.

You lucky devil, you found him.

Impossible.

You're way too young.

You know, I was just thinking

the same thing about you.

I meant too young to be my dad.

Henry Skinner is my father.

She has Henry's nose.

Allez. Allez.

Wow.

This your mum?

In all her Flashdance glory.

So, uh...

is he around?

Oh, bollocks.

Um...

I'm sorry.

I've forgotten your name.

- It's Christie.

- Christie.

You see, Christie, um...

Henry...

He's dead, huh?

A month ago.

Um...

Cup of tea?

Yes?

Madame Duflot.

Well, no, it's more

than a wrinkle, Max.

What if the girl

turns out to be legit?

Oh, come on, she turns up

a couple months after he parks it?

Far too sweet, Charlie;

I'm not buying it.

You need some

legal advice, mate,

and you need it fast,

in case the little minx

screws up the whole deal.

Asking price?

Uh, it's seven and a half.

Did you get that?

Right.

Christie, I'm just going

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