La migliore offerta Page #4

---

make do with this one.

How much would the

automaton be worth

if we manage to make it work?

Think of a really, really high figure.

- Do you have one in mind?

- Yes.

You've probably pitched it

too low.

You're good at talking

without saying anything.

I'll take that as a compliment.

Should things go

the way I trust they will,

you'll be very handsomely rewarded.

I didn't mean to talk about money.

It's a real privilege for me.

Where did you find these?

There are very precise rules

in the world of antiques.

It's forbidden to reveal

one's sources.

There's a few more gears

but bigger in that corner.

Gather them together. I'll take

care of the cataloguing myself.

Of course.

Candlesticks.

- Which period?

- 17th-century. Repair.

Mr Oldman.

Mr Oldman.

Yes.

What have you decided

about the furniture in this wing?

We're only drawing up

the inventory.

Later you can tell me

what to leave out.

Thank you.

Listen, Miss lbbetson, I can't help

thinking about your situation.

I'm sorry to have

intruded on your thoughts.

That's not the point.

I've been wondering how you

can live like this.

I'm organised and self-sufficient,

I don't need any help

but I appreciate your concern.

You're welcome.

- See you soon, then.

- Have a good day.

Mr Oldman!

Your contract.

I read it and it seems fine to me.

I initialled every page

and signed the last.

That's how it's done, isn't it?

Perfect.

But your personal details

are missing.

Take them from my passport.

But it expired quite some time ago.

- Personal details never expire.

- That's true enough, I suppose.

I was just a girl then

but it'll do for your purposes.

I wanted to mention

that in certain critical cases

my advice is to proceed

directly to restoration.

You know best.

It means the whole thing

will take a little longer.

We can widen

the scope of the valuation.

I understand.

You dye your hair.

I never noticed.

I'm disgusted by people

who don't trust their own hair!

I don't trust people who think so

much of themselves

that they won't come outside.

Ah, sir, there'll be no more

caretaker service as from Monday.

I'll just come in to bring

Miss lbbetson her shopping.

- The matter is of no interest to me.

- These are the keys.

- Why give them to me?

- It's what Miss lbbetson wanted.

In case you needed access

for further inspection.

When you come in, slam the door,

otherwise she'll get scared

and panic.

I'm going off my head

trying to work out the alignment

of these devices,

trying to figure out

which one fitted into which.

- That can't be easy.

- But not impossible.

You know,

gearboxes are like people.

If they've been together

long enough,

eventually,

they take on each other's forms.

So, you believe time can make

any kind of cohabitation possible?

Yeah, well, absolutely.

You've reminded me of a friend

who met a much younger girl.

She had agoraphobia.

Fear of open spaces

and distances?

Exactly. She lived for years locked

up in an apartment on her own.

Recently, she gave him the keys

to her house and ever since,

he's been in a state of...

...permanent anxiety.

What did I tell you? Now

he'll be constantly worried about her.

He'll be thinking,

"What does she need, shampoo,

medicine, tights... yoghurt?"

lt's beautiful, isn't it?

I'm not so sure.

Tell your friend to stay calm,

'cause time is already

working on their gearboxes.

And there you are, Mr. Oldman.

- Are you angry with me?

- Why should I be?

- What I said about your hair.

- Not at all.

I was just calling to ask

if you wish the sale of the furniture

to be identified by your family name.

Or do you prefer anonymity?

- Anonymity, anonymity.

- Good.

This time, I did see you.

- Oh?

- On TV.

I don't generally give interviews

but I was forced to.

You're more intriguing this way.

You'll be a great success

with the ladies.

So, we go to Lot 132.

Gustave Rett,

Portrait of a Woman With a Hat.

1956. Oil on canvas. 80 x 100 cm.

This one goes to the best offer.

10,000.

Fred, any news from Miss lbbetson?

She hasn't answered in days.

It's a while

since I heard from her.

I've been in bed all week, ill.

Who's been bringing her food?

Miss lbbetson?

Miss lbbetson?

Miss lbbetson? Answer me!

Claire?

Claire, are you alright?

Oh, no. Please!

- No. It's me, Claire.

- Get out!

- It's me, Mr. Oldman.

- Go away!

- Listen to me, it's Mr. Oldman.

- Get out!

There's nobody else here.

Calm down.

What's wrong?

Tell me what happened.

I wasn't well.

I didn't know who to call.

Nobody answered.

And then I fell.

I fell and I hit my...

Open the door.

You need to see a doctor.

No, please! Please!

Please, no!

Can you fix a broken auctioneer

as well?

I wouldn't know where to begin.

It's good to see you again,

Mr. Oldman.

Is something wrong? You seem

more preoccupied than usual.

Too many woodworms

and spider webs

and too few masterpieces.

Could we put it that way?

- So, how's our toy coming along?

- Ah.

Well, I've managed to put

some sections back together.

But, I mean, there's just still

too many pieces missing.

The entire exterior.

We can't establish

what kind of character he is.

Like my friend

and his girl in the tower.

Yeah, maybe, although

we've never seen our android.

We're still groping around

in the dark.

So is he.

He speaks to her

through a closed door.

- Closed door?

- Yes.

If anybody moves in the house,

she barricades herself in her room.

- He's never seen her face?

- Not only him, no-one has.

That's like when two young people

meet on the internet.

They get to know each other,

then reveal themselves.

She won't reveal herself.

Maybe he hasn't

got a good strategy.

So, it's more difficult for my friend

to succeed in his enterprise

than for us to reconstruct

the Vaucanson automaton?

Depends on the number of rusty

pieces you're able to bring me.

Well...

...here's one more.

That's a mobile phone.

This is brand new.

I'm the one that's rusty

because I don't know how to use it.

Could you teach me

before your girlfriend gets here?

- Hello.

- Good evening, Mr. Oldman.

It's Claire Ibbetson.

Am I disturbing you?

No, not at all, Miss lbbetson.

I told you, from now on,

you can call me any time you like.

I wanted to thank you for...

...everything, really.

No need. All that's important

is you're feeling better now.

Yes, it was just a small cut

on the head. I'm much better.

I wanted to tell you,

I looked over the inventory.

Oh! What do you think?

You've done a great job.

Really, you have.

But I'm troubled

by so many doubts.

I'm not sure if it's a good idea

to sell. What would you advise?

I couldn't say. I don't know

what your plans are.

Why did you decide

to sell in the first place?

Out of necessity in order to start

life afresh or another reason?

All of the above, I suppose.

I'd even sell the house.

It's too big for me now.

Sometimes, I feel as though

I were in a public square.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes