A Good Year Page #6

blood relative you have?

Yes, it does. That's why

I need to be sure.

Whoa... whoa!

This was my room

when I was a little boy.

Sleeping here...

it was the safest place

in the world.

No bedtimes, no chores.

No squabbling adults.

I loved Henry deeply,

but I never got

around to telling him.

It's a shitty feeling.

He was someone who saved my life.

Thanks a million, Maximillian.

Bloody hell, Henry.

Oh, where does it come back in?

- Where does it come back in?

- Maxie!

Bugger cooked the books.

Yes?

Max, my boy.

Amis, you old cheese.

So sorry to hear you're out.

Well, as usual, Amis,

the only thing right about your intelligence

is that it's all wrong.

Then again, you always were

at the back of the conga line.

You've crossed the line

one too many times, "Sinner."

You little runt!

By the by, thank you so much for

your very generous contribution

to my Aston Martin fund.

Did you get the flowers?

What flowers?

What are you talking about?

...little schemes and ploys...

- Do go on.

Well, you're nothing.

Plonker.

Oi! I heard that.

Who you calling a plonker?

You fat prat.

Hey? Hello?

- Skinner?

- Bonjour.

Hello. I'm Jean-Marie Bougnier.

Yes?

I've come to test the vines.

- Oh, the oenologue!

- Yeah.

Right, great. Um, well, grab

your boots and off we go.

Yeah.

(cell phone ringing)

Gemma, long time.

Max, I've just had a vision

of you serving Kenny

a latte at Starbucks.

Getting comfortable

in my chair, is he?

Yeah, listen.

Remember, we are not here

for the dental plan.

Sell, sell.

He's even taking credit

for your trade this week.

He's telling everyone in

the office that he was the one

that gave you the idea.

Well, if he wasn't an ambitious

and mercenary little bastard,

I never would have given him

the job in the first place.

Yeah, but, Max,

he's really trying to take...

Gemma... just

give him his head

and let him do what he needs to do.

All right?

Tout a I'heure, Gemma.

Tout a I'heure.

Well...

Piquette.

Wonderful, wonderful.

No, no, it mean, um...

it is bad, you know?

Yeah.

Uh... sh*t.

Chicken sh*t, no?

It's very terrible,

this one, you know?

It's like, um, in French

we say, um... mort.

It's completely dead.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God.

Look at this one; this is a...

It's a baby.

It is a baby.

Look at it.

I test this one.

Wow.

Catastrophe.

Very, very bad.

I am really sorry. Eh!

More like a quarry than a vineyard.

Look at this-you know what it mean?

You cut off two of

every three bunches.

What's left gets all the nourishment,

you know?

And why would you do that?

Perhaps the peasants

got the time to salvage

what they could, you know?

Right, um...

I think I follow you.

Um, so wh-what's the verdict?

Despite your vigneron's

unbearable faults, you know,

this terroir is beyond help.

Nothing, um... sh*t.

Nothing. No.

You might consider growing

potatoes or squash.

I will have my office

send a report

and my invoice.

Thank you.

Oi!

Wakey, wakey, beach bunny.

What the hell do you think

you're doing?

These are Henry's private papers.

They're irreplaceable.

Did you know Dad mixed a martini

for Winston Churchill?

He also danced a waltz

with Amelia Earhart in 1975.

Well, considering Amelia

Earhart died in the 1930s,

that's a perfect

example of the type

of exaggerator Uncle Henry was.

Want to know the real Uncle Henry?

Not the one your overactive

imagination is manufacturing?

The real Henry Skinner

was a man so afraid

of committing to the real world

that he retreated from life

to drink and shag his way

to a lonely and loveless end!

Everything I need to know

about my dad is right here.

It's right in front of me.

You know, and if this place

meant as much to him

as I believe it did,

you're worse than I thought

for even thinking about selling it.

I'll leave tomorrow.

Uncle Henry!

Let's see you then.

- One, two, and go!

- Yay!

Yes?

Hello.

You working out on the house?

Charlie.

Yes, at it since daybreak.

Really.

I hate to think of you toiling

down there, all on your own.

We're English, Charlie, you know?

Born to rule and sacrifice.

Yes.

Where are you?

- I'm outside.

Wow.

Max, take my original estimate

- and shove it up my ass.

- Shh!

- If I can't get you $5 million

- Charlie, shh-shh...

for this baby, I'm in the wrong sport.

What?

What?

Oh, dear.

Huh?

This is a disaster.

Mr. Froggy Wineman

has just knocked a million

off our sale price.

Oh, bugger it, you know?

We just go to plan two, right?

Just flog it as fast as we can

for as much as we can.

And just keep in mind

that the vigneron, Duflot,

he stays on

as part of the deal, okay?

- I'll do my best.

- Right.

Max?

So what's on the agenda

for this evening?

Steak frite?

Bottle of pastis?

Evening game of bridge?

Charlie.

Charlie, please;

real men don't play bridge,

and, uh, I have a...

an obligatory cultural activity

in the village this evening.

Can I come?

Will there be girls?

No and yes.

So you're leaving

your best friend alone

in an eerie chteau

on his first night?

Charlie.

No. I'm leaving you alone.

And, um, you're not as alone

as you think you are.

You'll find a friend.

Okay?

Max.

We thought you were dead.

Kenny, I've heard the word

that Monday's auction

is going to trade like a turd.

Oh, yeah?

A smart move

would be to sell 28 gilt short

at, say, 99.10.

Good grief.

Are you sure?

It's risky as hell;

it'd seriously piss off the markets.

Now, of course,

I'm not allowed to do

the trading, Kenny, but, uh,

I'm sure that you'll share

the credit with me

when the bouquets are passed around.

- Yes?

- All right, Max.

- See you later.

- Righto.

Boss, someone is shorting

Monday's gilt auction.

Skinner.

Not this time, you miserable sod.

Buy!

Get your hands

on as much as you can.

Hello.

Hello.

Anyone there?

Hello?

Who are you?

I'm Charlie's friend Max.

No, I'm not.

I'm Max's friend Charlie.

Okay, Max's friend.

I need you to come up here

and take a look at my back.

Thanks.

Have I told you you're a vision?

Oui, from the bottom of the pool,

when you were peeking up my skirt.

Gosh, guilty as charged.

Sorry about that.

- Bonsoir. You look lovely.

- Bonsoir.

You, too.

Sartorial elegance by Henri.

Wow.

Le Coin Perdu?

I've never actually seen a bottle.

Have you heard of it?

It's expensive.

It's expensive.

Are you trying to seduce me, Max?

Oh, gosh.

No, of course not.

The thought would never

even cross my mind,

not more than six or ten times.

Um...

Eh, right now,

it's sort of the color of...

ripe pomegranate.

Bummer.

Could you, uh... look

in the medicine cabinet

for some aloe,

aspirin, bucket of ice.

Yeah.

Uh, I'm Christie, by the way.

Charlie.

How do you do?

I love your accent.

Thanks.

Love your bum.

Love your bum.

There's something you

should know about me, Max.

Yes?

I'm very, very choosy.

Well, I'm very, very honored.

I'm also very,

very suspicious;

very, very irrational;

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