The Full Treatment Page #3

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It's all right.

It's two years ago now.

A forgotten lover?

No. A dead brother.

He was killed at Le Mans.

Yeah. Well, I'm staying

at the Mditerrane.

Let's beat it up

some night, eh, kids?

Alan?

How about it, Denise?

- Fine. It's a date.

- Good.

Now what?

A spider!

Oh! It's quite harmless,

unless you're a male spider.

This is a female.

You sure have good eyesight.

No. The male is always smaller.

And in case you're interested,

he gets eaten by the female after

he has performed his necessary functions.

Quelle horreur!

Ah! You know, women tend

to do the same thing.

I must say

I have never tried it.

I mean mentally

and psychologically.

You've obviously talked

to a lot of spiders.

No. But I've talked to men,

and, like spiders,

many of them enjoy being

eaten psychologically.

You can

take me off the list.

Oh, some fight against it.

It's a mechanism of this sort,

a bid to stave off

being eaten by women,

which operates

in certain individuals.

Is that why

you're a bachelor?

No. No. Unfortunately, most of

my experience is second-hand.

You mean from what

people tell you?

Partly.

What happens to the spider

that fights back?

Usually, it takes the form

of complete detachment,

callousness and lack of

affection towards women.

You can't accuse me

of that, can you, honey?

Don't be crude.

But more rarely it produces

such an intense hatred

that the man gets

unnaturally violent.

Such extremes are,

of course, abnormal.

And you read about them

in your Sunday paper.

Are you all right, Alan?

Yes. I'm all right.

- You don't look all right.

- Well, I am!

What is it, Colby?

Alan!

Give him a moment.

A man is always

embarrassed after anger.

What is it, dearie? Is he a madman?

What is it?

I don't quite know

what to say, monsieur.

My dear, Mrs Colby,

it's for me to apologise.

It's just that

my husband...

I'm sorry I caused

such an upheaval.

Even the Baroness has left

rather abruptly.

Looks like you'll have to watch

your table talk in future.

I think I'll just

collect my handbag.

- Hi.

- Hello.

Oh, no. You won't

desert me, too?

I'm sorry, but if you'll just show me

the way to the hotel road

because my heels,

you see...

Oh, of course.

I will escort you.

No, no.

It's not necessary.

Oh, your mother says good night,

and she's gone to bed.

You had to see a spider.

Come on, move it.

But I haven't finished

my dinner yet.

You can have it

in Cannes.

Well, it looks as though

my party has disintegrated.

- Goodbye, Denise.

- Good night.

- Now don't forget, I'm at the Mditerrane.

- Yes.

- It was great seeing you again.

- Ciao.

- Ciao.

- Good night, Harry.

Well, it's sad about

the bouillabaisse, huh?

Yeah.

What'd you say it did?

Come on,

back to your typing.

I don't know about you, but I think

a brandy and soda would be...

No, no. Merci.

I really must go.

Oh! Now please.

Just a drink of peace

to show that you accept

my apologies for the fracas.

And for my ignorance

about your famous brother.

There's nothing to apologise. Besides,

my husband is at the hotel and he...

He needs you.

Yes. He needs me.

I'm afraid he needs much more

than you, Mrs Colby.

Please, sit down.

Will I find

my own way then?

Do stop bristling.

I want to talk to you

about your husband.

Well, I don't want

to talk about him.

Oh, yes, you do.

You want to talk

it all out with someone.

But you don't know whom.

This sort of thing can only

be discussed with a doctor.

Go ahead then.

I am a doctor.

You will have to get it out

sooner or later

or you will end up

in a worse state than he is.

And that would be

a great shame.

You're a doctor?

A psychiatrist.

So you see, I might be

a great deal of use.

No, no.

Don't look so rudely aghast.

I'm sorry,

but I had no idea.

Well, why should you?

I'm on holiday. Please.

And a doctor on a holiday

keeps it secret.

Otherwise,

before you can say knife,

people are showing you

their moles or asking you

if smoking really

causes cancer.

Have a cigarette?

And does it?

I have not the faintest idea.

No. You see,

I don't usually seek patients.

They seek me.

And this one has practically

thrust himself on me.

But I don't like seeing

ladies under stress.

Especially charming ones.

Now, let's get this professional

nonsense out of the way.

- Has he seen a psychiatrist?

- No.

Good. So we might be

able to do something.

A great deal is clear already,

but you'll have to fill in some gaps,

if I'm to help you or him.

I'll try.

Your husband is in a state of

acute anxiety. He's giving you hell.

- Oh, no. He's not...

- He's giving you hell.

Don't argue.

How long have

you been married?

Just over a year.

Most of that time

he's been in a hospital.

There is a scar

of a scalp flap here.

So he's had a severe head injury.

Concussion. Cerebral contusion.

He's made a good

organic recovery,

but still has the usual

post-concussional symptoms.

Headaches, dizziness, blackouts.

- They are dying away.

- Yes.

But he's anxious.

He has no confidence.

And on the other hand, he's aggressive

and murder to live with. Right?

I think that...

Of course he's murder.

Is there anything else?

I don't know.

Ma, incredibile.

I think you've

said everything.

There's nothing

incredible about it.

- What's his family like?

- Oh, they're dead.

Anything in the family?

Mental illness?

Not that I know of.

Is he otherwise stable?

What does that mean?

I mean has he been in any trouble,

jail or anything like that?

No. Of course not.

All right, all right, all right.

How long did you know him

before you were married?

A year. We met at Le Mans.

He was there for the Grand Prix.

Giovanni's Grand Prix?

S.

And you met

and had an affair?

S.

Did he go around with many

other women before he met you?

S, of course.

But that doesn't matter.

Of course it doesn't.

You would be in love with him even

if he had a dozen mistresses, hmm?

Yes. I think so.

You wouldn't fight for him?

Of course I'd fight for him.

Good girl.

So you got married, huh?

Church, white, orange blossom,

all the trimmings.

It was the same day

we had the accident.

Do you think

he'll always be like that?

He's sick, Denise.

He needs psychiatric treatment.

Well, can you do

something for him?

I'm sure we can do something.

But I mean we.

Not me alone, Denise.

I'll do anything.

I cannot go to him.

He must come to me.

And at the moment, he has

a complete aversion to me.

Only you can overcome this.

Well, I'll try.

What's he like

as a husband?

According to you, murder.

Is he different

since the accident?

Naturally, he's different.

I mean as a lover.

Come along, you're a big girl now.

Tell me, Denise, is he rougher?

No!

Come on,

this'll do you good.

Mr Harry Stonehouse.

What number?

Monsieur Stonehouse?

364 and 5.

Well, I expected you'd be

all tucked up in bed by now.

Sit down, sit down.

I don't see you for three years

and then twice in one evening.

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