In Secret Page #2

three flights of steps.

Was he hurt?

Oh not a bit, but I was.

By the time he hit bottom,

he'd cut me off completely

without a sou.

Hmm.

I haven't spoken

to the old skinflint since.

You weren't prepared to starve

for your art?

Do I look like a man

who would starve for his art?

I couldn't say you do.

No.

- Therese.

- I have to open a window.

- Why? What's wrong?

- Nothing. The air is close.

Won't you come

and join us at the table?

No. My head is splitting.

Laurent will think you don't like him.

I don't.

Might have a think about that.

He smells like an animal.

I can smell him from here.

Don't be ridiculous.

Oh, Grivet, you've won again!

I've tried, but I just can't imagine it.

What?

Standing there with palette

and brush in hand

while a woman takes off her clothes.

Can't you?

Therese!

I wouldn't know where to look.

There are dozens of places.

My hand would shake.

- Therese!

- Should you not see

- what she wants?

- Don't move.

Sorry.

A customer probably wandered

into the shop by mistake.

I'd be hypnotized.

The model is hypnotized, too.

Do you look at her face?

Mm-hmm.

And I look at her body.

I listen and try to hear

what the body is saying.

"I have to go wee"?

Yeah, maybe.

The body says other things.

"Love me," I suppose.

The first model I ever had

was this beautiful redhead.

Natural red,

as I quickly discovered.

With the only hitch being

that this wonderful creature

was deaf as a brick.

Hmm.

Couldn't call out if I wanted

adjustments. I had to...

mold her like a sculptor,

Part by part.

One afternoon,

I wanted her legs to be a bit wider.

So I went to move her knees apart

with my hands,

but my touch was clumsy.

And then, on a hunch,

I touched the inside of her thigh

with the tip of my brush...

where the skin is soft as cream,

and warm.

Lightest touch of camel's hair.

Did she make the small move

you were after?

She did.

And what was her body

saying to you?

"Brush me again."

Did Madame call?

Yes. Five minutes ago.

Is it done?

It's a painting, Madame,

not a roast.

Great art takes time, mother.

Just one small peek.

Ah! Can't be done.

Oh, but I could be called away

to heaven before it's completed.

No, I doubt it, Madame.

My guess is you'll see us

all snug in our graves.

What a horrible thought.

Mother, I'm posing.

Oh, so handsome.

Therese. Now.

Don't move.

I've painted your shadow

into the picture.

Therese, I need

my hot water bottle.

My feet are freezing.

Therese, honestly,

I wonder your head is.

You're not even listening.

Could you come up here, please?

Hmm.

I look--

is "distinguished" the word?

It's a word.

Thank you.

But it barely resembles you.

It's so blue.

And so...gray.

It resembles my soul, mother.

Oh.

Is that what you were after,

his soul?

I paint what I see, Madame.

It does grow on one.

So does mange.

Oh, no, don't belittle yourself.

You've given us a glimpse

of something...

eternal.

Oh, no, not a customer now.

Let me go out and get a bottle

of champagne to celebrate.

- Yes.

- No, no, no!

- Two bottles.

- Yes!

And then we can come back here

and marvel at Laurent's masterpiece.

- But hurry.

- Of course.

Marvelous.

It really is an extraordinary thing.

Thank you, dear friend.

Do you like it?

You said you couldn't paint.

Unbutton your blouse.

We don't have time.

Am I hurting you?

Yes.

Don't moan.

Don't make a sound.

Keep quiet.

Well, you're busy as a little bee

this morning.

I slept very well last night.

- Buzz, buzz, buzz.

- Buzz, buzz, buzz.

There?

Show me where.

Show me where.

Ah. There. Right there?

Tomorrow. Don't be late.

Yes.

Therese? I need you.

Well, um, I'll save them

both for you,

and you can stop in once

you've given it some thought.

Oh, that's what I'll do.

Thank you.

Boo!

Jesus, Camille,

you scared the hell out of me.

Will you join me for some lunch?

- Um, uh...

- It's not a difficult question.

I'm sorry. The head clerk needs me

to run an errand for him.

Oh. Will I see you tonight?

- Tonight?

- It's Thursday.

Oh, yes. Yes, of course.

I'll see you tonight.

I'm sorry, I'm late, Camille.

Come over whenever you want.

You're family now.

Your marriage bed?

Madame could come up here

at any minute.

Oh, she wouldn't dream

of leaving the shop.

Besides, I have a terrible headache

and need to rest.

You're afraid.

I can't believe that you're

the same lifeless girl

who always sat in a corner.

You have no idea how much

they've stolen from me.

I almost ran away twice.

But she always told me

I couldn't survive without them.

And I believed her.

There is nothing left of me

but a bit of burnt wick

and a wisp of smoke.

And look at you now.

So don't be afraid.

Danger passes by those

who look it right in the eye.

He still had her blood

under his fingernails

when we found him.

Oh--

Excuse me.

Therese.

She won't be long.

Thou shalt not.

Is it the sixth or the seventh?

- The seventh.

- The sixth

and the seventh.

There is nothing but murder

and lust.

To be stuffed into her own oven.

Hacked to bloody pieces

and baked in a pie.

Therese.

It's your move.

Oh.

Oh, now.

I had no idea you were such

a skillful player, Therese.

It's always the quiet ones

in the corner

that you have to keep an eye on.

I can't stand not being with you.

Therese?

Oh, for God's sake.

Therese, are you ill?

I have a terrible migraine,

Madame.

Well, would you like a cup of tea?

Maybe later. I need to rest.

Hmm.

You like to lie.

I do.

And I'm good at it.

They made me better.

Thank you for locking me up

in a sickroom.

Shh.

And thank you

for burying me alive.

Oh, thank you. Thank you.

Oh, thank you.

Therese, is the cat

coughing up furballs again?

What's wrong?

You dug me up too late.

No.

No. Just in time.

Just in time.

Save me.

Please save me.

- Shh.

- I was sinking.

I was sinking into

something cold and deep.

I couldn't breathe.

You were dreaming.

What are you doing?

Listening to the river.

That's just a brick wall, Therese.

Hmm.

Do you often sit up alone at night?

Sometimes.

You have secrets from me.

I didn't know.

Sometimes at night

I sit up at the window.

That's all.

Well, come back to bed.

I want to hold you.

I never dream when I hold you.

I hated you.

You hated me?

Before you ever touched me.

I used to walk into a room,

and I'd see you there

and you'd barely look up.

I'd find myself moving around

and around your chair,

hoping that a small part of my dress

or my hand might touch you.

Do you still hate me?

Yes.

Why?

Because you can leave me.

But I won't.

I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

Camille! What are we doing?

Come to see my bear.

Why?

Last week there was a young boy

here with a crust of bread

that he'd spread with honey.

He threw it

but his aim was bad.

The bread hit the bear on the back

and it stuck there.

Poor thing could smell the honey,

but he couldn't quite reach it.

The bear went crazy.

The poor thing mauled itself.

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