Swimming Pool Page #4

to appear normal...

as it was before.

Another thing:
Did anyone see you with

Franck before the two of you came here?

- No.

- Are you sure?

Yeah. I went to his house.

He lives in an isolated place

outside Lacoste.

And after, we came

directly here in my car.

Did anyone see you

along the way?

I don't think so.

- Did he have any family?

- No. His parents are dead.

Right.

Are you going back to London?

Not straightaway.

That would look suspicious.

Why are you helping me, Sarah?

Well, why wouldn't I help you?

I don't know.

Do you think

they will arrest me?

No, not necessarily.

If you do exactly as I say,

I don't think there'll be any problems.

And why should I believe you?

Because you write about murders

in your books?

Absolutely.

Marcel.

- Sarah.

- Oh.

It's you.

I came to say good-bye.

I want to let you finish your book.

I'm going to Saint-Tropez.

A friend of mine has some work

for me in his restaurant.

It's possibly for the best.

Are you going to tell my father?

John? I've got nothing

to tell him.

You're right.

Good-bye.

- Julie?

- Yeah?

How did you get that scar

on your stomach?

Is that for your book?

Yes.

A car accident.

Good luck.

You too.

Sarah, I don't really know

why I'm doing this,

but after everything

that happened between us

it seems like the right thing to do.

I lied to you. My mother's book

was not completely lost.

It did burn, but she kept a copy

which she gave to me.

John doesn't know I have it.

Perhaps if I give you

these pages today,

you will bring her back to life.

So if they inspire you,

take them, steal them.

They're yours.

Julie.

Yes, well.

I've read it.

I don't know what to say.

- You didn't like it, did you?

- I wouldn't say that, exactly.

Oh, come on, John. Stop beating

around the bush. Give me the truth.

Well, I don't understand

what you're trying to say.

And I don't recognize you in it.

I thought that's what you wanted.

You wanted something more personal.

Yes, I know, but I -

I don't think writing about feelings

is your strong suit.

Murders, investigations,

that's your line of country.

I mean, this is far too subtle.

It's too abstract.

Where's the action?

Where are the plot twists?

So, what's your advice?

Shall I burn it?

Oh, God,

you're so melodramatic. No!

But for the benefit of your career,

I don't think we should publish it.

Not right now.

Let's have another Dorwell.

Think of your audience.

It's funny. That's precisely

what I thought you'd say.

Well. There you are then.

Come on. You can do

better than this, Sarah.

Actually, I don't think I can.

I think this is the finest piece of work

I've done in a bloody long time.

And because I knew in advance

that you wouldn't like it,

I've taken matters

into my own hands...

and I've given you a surprise.

I've signed with Barken.

Unlike you, they love the book.

Why couldn't you have told me?

There are a few things

that you couldn't tell me.

Keep the book.

Give it to your daughter.

I've signed it for her.

Ciao!

Oh, by the way,

you can tell Terry Long's mother...

that Dorwell will be back

and he's in top form.

- Good-bye, Debbie.

- Bye-bye, Sarah.

Hi.

- Hi, Debbie.

- Hello, Julia. How are you?

- I'm fine. How are you?

- I'm very well. Thanks.

- Is my father around?

- Yeah. I'll tell him you're here.

- Thanks.

- Hello, John? Julia's in reception.

- Okay. He'll be out shortly.

- Thanks, Debbie.

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