Loving Vincent Page #2

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But, a weekend painter.

Look at him always drawing.

What is it you were

saying on entry?

Which way up is it?

Grow up Henri.

Lei me finish

it in a minute for him.

Oh I forgot You can't.

You're being vile.

The vile doth deny.

For many artists,

Paris is a final destination

but not for him.

It was a stopover to learn

what he needed to learn,

and then he was off in

search of his own path.

You've done it.

It Was in his sleep.

It's the kindest thing.

I saw him once

more after two years.

He was calmer, more assured.

Take good care.

And, I thought this is a man

whose story will end well.

His star finally rising,

his revolution won.

So think how shocking

it was to be standing

over Vincent's coffin

just six weeks later.

So sad.

For many he died

a martyr for art,

but for me, it seems odd.

Why?

In only eight

years, he had traveled

from amateur to an artist

of influence, unbelievable.

Monet declared him

the shining star

of the Independent

Artist's Fair.

And, he was cured

according to his doctor,

Dr. Gachet who had looked

after Vincent in Auvers.

I met him at the funeral.

There were just a few

artists from Paris and him.

I could've thought he

was Vincent's brother.

He was the one who

made the speech,

and he cried all

the way through it.

And, an hour later he was

running around taking Vincent's

best paintings off the

wall as if they were his.

And, they were, his fee,

for treating Vincent.

It seemed odd that the doctor

had Theo's full confidence.

I understand he's still

close to the Van Gogh family.

Maybe you should ask

him why Vincent did it.

It's my father who

wanted to know why.

I just wanted to deliver

this letter for him.

The Van Gogh's are

only ghosts in Paris now.

I'm afraid you're

going to have to take

this letter back to your

father with my condolences.

Dear Father,

looks like I'm continuing

my journey.

I need to find a new recipient

as unfortunately Theo

is dead.

There is this doctor who

I believe is the person

to entrust the letter lo.

So, I'm going to Auvers.

Make some excuse to my boss.

Morning mam.

Yes.

I'm here

to see Dr. Gachel.

Really?

Do you happen to

have an appointment?

No.

I have a letter from

Vincent Van Gogh,

a friend of my

father's from home.

Do you now?

You know he's

actually passed away?

Yes.

The doctor's in Paris.

He won't be back till tomorrow.

I'll make sure the

doctor gets the letter.

I'd rather deliver it in person.

I want to ask the

doctor about Vincent.

Well I can tell you about him.

He was evil.

Is that a medical opinion?

I could tell at first glance

it would end in trouble.

He had these,

Hello?

Hello mam.

Bewildered eyes

in which there was

something insane, something

which you dare not look.

Just straight through at the

back in the garden actually.

Well nothing has been the

same since he came here.

I'll get you a message.

Tell me when it's convenient

for the doctor to see you

where are you in residence?

Where did Vincent reside?

Oh at the Ravoux Inn.

Well you can find me there.

No, you don't

Want to stay there.

It's a hole.

Doctor booked him

somewhere proper.

But, probably suited

him better in a hole.

Well still that's

where you can send word.

You're not gonna stir

things up again are you?

I've had quite enough

weeping over that nutcase

in this household.

.

You looking for something?

Looking for the owner.

Speaking to her.

You're the owner'?

Well my parents are, but

they're visiting me auntie,

so I guess for the next two

days I'm the proprietress.

That's a fine dress.

Suitable attire

for a proprietress.

I don't get lo

wear it that often

when my father's hers.

Always got errands for ma.

Well that's life.

Fancy something?

I won't say no to a hot coffee.

So what brings you lo Auvers?

A friend of my father's

Vincent Van Gogh.

We just found out

he killed himself.

He stayed here.

I know.

Were you here when it happened?

It was so dreadful.

I sewed the tenants

dinner at seven.

And, he wasn't there.

He came later though.

But, something was very wrong.

Mr. Vincent?

Vincent, are you alright sir?

My father went after him.

Vincent?

What's happened Vincent?

Are you alright?

Oh my God!

What have you done?

I tried to kill myself.

And Dr.

Gachet was called.

He didn't even say

one word to Vincent.

The two of them just

looked at each other

like two angry wolves.

And, Vincent's lying on this bed

and a bulletin his belly.

He's crying out in pain

asking when someone

would remove it, and Dr.

Gachet, an ex military doctor,

I mean he should know

how to remove a bullet.

He does nothing!

He just decided the case

was hopeless and left.

The next morning rumors

about Vincent had spread

all over town.

And, at eight o'clock,

Gendarme Rigaumon

comes knocking.

What are you doing?

Can't you leave

the man in peace?

Can't you see he's not Well?

I'm just being thorough,

Mr. Ravoux, that's all.

Where's the gun?

No idea.

No idea.

My father sent him away.

He said Rigaumon

is the last person

a dying man should have to see.

Mr. Theo came in the

afternoon, and he comes in

yelling, "What happened?

"How?"

That was the terrible thing

is that no one really knew.

And, then, you know,

it was normal and calm.

And, you know I honestly thought.

It was all gonna lo he fine.

If only I could've

been one of them.

But, as the

night came, a fever in him

rose, and he was getting weaker.

And, about half past one,

Theo comes downstairs.

And, we all knew

that is was over,

and Vincent was dead.

What do you think happened?

Did you see it coming?

He was happy here.

I honestly thought He was.

You know Dr. Gachet tried to

gel him to say somewhere else?

But, no.

He liked our place.

No, you're going

to ruin your dress.

Well you're light.

You'll get messy.

Do you want a room?

It depends on the cost?

Come on you.

How much is the room?

It depends on the room.

Another foreigner.

He liked us, and we liked him.

He was a nice, quiet man.

Sure.

What you didn't like him?

It's not that I-

- He could do unusual things

because he was painting,

but otherwise he was normal.

Unusual how?

On his first day, I

remember because it was

a day like today.

This big storm broke, and

everyone's rushing for shelter.

And, I saw him.

He's just standing there

in the rain, in his suit.

And, I thought, you know,

must be first day excitement.

But, no he was always like that.

Always painting day in, day

out no matter what the weather.

I heard he was

close to the doctor.

What Dr. Gachet?

No, I wouldn't have said that.

He kept rather to himself.

He was definitely

close to his brother

judging by the

amount of letters.

I know my dad was his postman.

So you know.

I was wondering when he

slept painting all day,

writing these long

letters, always reading

these fat hooks.

I guess you could say

he was well organized.

Vincent?

Yeah, you could set

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