Swimming Pool Page #2

I have to work early in the morning.

Fine. Good night. Sarah, right?

Right.

I'm Julie.

You're not too hot?

Sorry. I woke you up.

No. I was just dozing.

You must be working too hard.

You should have a swim in the pool.

The water's cold. It'll wake you up.

Well, thank you for your advice, but

I absolutely loathe swimming pools.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

I prefer the sea too.

The ocean. The crashing waves.

The feeling of danger. That you could

lose footing at any time and be swept away.

Pools are boring.

There's no excitement, no -

no feeling of infinity.

It's just a big bathtub.

It's more like a cesspool

of living bacteria.

Oh, that? No, it's just

a bit of dirt and leaves.

So, what are you writing?

A romance novel?

God, no. I write crime fiction.

Oh, yeah! That's how he makes his money.

And that's how he can afford to buy a beautiful

house in France for his daughter to enjoy.

What about you?

Are your books selling well?

- I can't complain.

- What is this one about?

Murders and a police investigation.

In the Luberon with

rich English tourists.

Listen, if you don't mind,

I do have work to do.

Okay. I leave you alone, Miss Marple.

I need to make some phone calls anyway.

He was at the macumba?

No way!

With Jean-Pierre?

Yeah, right.

What a pervert!

You're gross!

He came back?

I don't know.

- Going shopping?

- No, I'm going to have lunch in the village.

Ah, good idea.

By the way, I spoke to Marcel.

He's coming very soon for the pool.

His English b*tch

has a broomstick up her butt.

- May I have the bill, please?

- Yes.

Hello?

Don't worry about it.

I'm not going to bother her.

Anyway, it's a big house.

Did you ring mom?

I'm telling you,

she's still waiting, so hurry up.

Oui, c'est a. Ciao.

It's your publisher.

John? Hello? John?

He hung up.

- Hello?

- Hello, this is Sarah Morton.

Could I speak to John, please?

- He's gone out.

- Oh. Really?

- Well, could you ask him

to call me back in France?

- Okay then.

Yes, thank you. Good-bye.

He scolded me.

He told me not to bother you.

He said I should leave you alone

so you could work.

Listen, Julie. I'm going

to be frank with you.

I need peace and quiet to concentrate.

And since we share

the same living space,

I must ask you just to go about your business

without getting in the way of mine, hmm?

I mean, this house is certainly

big enough for the two of us.

So, please make an effort.

I was only trying

to be polite and make friends.

- But if you prefer-

- I don't prefer anything!

I just want to work on my book in peace.

Fine. That's too bad, though, because

I just bought loads of nice food.

I guess I have to eat

my foie gras all alone.

a va?

- We're almost there.

- I'm wasted.

Are you okay?

- Where are we?

- My house.

You live here?

Yeah, I swear!

Can't you turn the music up?

No, the old bag's sleeping upstairs.

Oh.

Good morning.

Bonjour.

I made some coffee, if you like.

Oui.

I hope we weren't too loud?

I don't speak French.

I can't understand a word.

Pardon.

Get up!

I've got to get to work.

Just a quickie.

I'd love to, but I've really got to go.

And there's that woman.

- You saw her?

- Yeah, she's outside.

- She's a foreigner?

- Yes.

- English.

- Not bad looking.

So f*** her, if you like old maids!

I was just kidding.

Want me to drive you?

It's not far. See you later.

Thanks. It was nice.

- Call me sometime.

- No problem.

Ciao!

- Is everything all right?

- Yes.

Are you from around here?

Yes, Lacoste. Have you been there?

- No.

- The Marquis de Sade's castle is there.

Oh, right.

I've heard about it.

It's practically in ruins now, isn't it?

You can say that again.

But there's a nice panoramic

view of the Luberon.

It's beautiful.

I'll let you finish.

Oh, it's you.

Your bedroom's not big enough for you?

Yes, it is, but he snores like a pig.

I couldn't get to sleep.

Expecting another one?

Bonjour.

I've come for the pool.

Julie called.

- Hi, Marcel.

- Hello.

- How are you?

- Not bad.

- You're back already?

- I was sick of work.

I felt like a rest.

This is Sarah, a friend of my father's.

Yes, we've met.

Are you cleaning the pool today?

Isn't that what you wanted,Julie?

Sarah wants to swim,

but it's too dirty for her.

Bonjour.

- Where's the girl?

- What girl?

I forget her name. The little blonde.

Julie, maybe?

That's it. Julie, right.

Check out in the backyard by the pool.

I believe she's getting some air.

Thanks, Madame.

Bernard, this is Marcel.

- He's my dad.

- Stop joking.

Come on, Marcel!

- Going out?

- Yes. Do I have to ask for your permission?

Well, it would be nice if you didn't

make any noise when you came home.

- Yes, mother.

- I pity your mother.

You pity her? Why?

Well, I imagine having a daughter who comes

home with a different man every night

must be difficult for a mother.

Well, you imagine wrong. You know what?

You're just a frustrated

English woman...

who writes about dirty things

but never does them.

You can shove your

uptight morals up your ass.

I was worried

when you didn't come home.

- Are you gonna tell my daddy?

- Yes, maybe I will.

Then why don't you?

He would love it.

I'm not so sure about that.

How can you be so naive?

He's the king of orgies.

Didn't you know?

- Julie?

- Yes?

Would you like to go out

to dinner tonight?

Shall we go?

Are you ready?

Yes, I'm coming.

You're working, as usual.

I was just rereading an old piece.

This is my underwear.

What's it doing here?

I found it in the garden

near the pool.

Where shall we go?

Not too far. I'm exhausted.

- I see the waiter isn't here tonight.

- Franck?

- Maybe. I don't know his name.

- It's Franck, a boy from Lacoste.

During the off-season

he only works days.

I see.

Do you know him well?

A little.

I see him around sometimes.

You seem to know

just about everyone here.

Well, of course.

I've spent my whole childhood here.

But not with John?

No.

He abandoned us,

my mother and I.

He just came here

for the summer on holiday.

- Do you resent him for that?

- No, not really.

He lives his life, I live mine.

What about your mother,

is she French?

- Yeah.

- Where does she live?

In Nice.

Why are you so interested now?

Oh. Oh, I don't know.

Well, maybe you and I

got off to a bad start.

I was angry with you-

Well, actually, I was angry at John...

for not really telling me

about you or her.

He's the one you're interested in.

When someone keeps an entire

part of their life secret from you,

it's fascinating and frightening.

I don't deny

that I want to know more.

But don't count on me

to tell you any secrets.

If you wanna know something,

you should ask John.

I'm not asking anyone anything.

Yeah, sure.

You may pretend you don't care,

but I can see you're hoping

I tell you some things about my father.

Actually, I'm more interested

in your mother.

Why don't you live

with her in Nice?

That's a long story.

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