The Full Treatment Page #9

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All right, let's go.

Now, we go back to where the traffic thins

out on the other side of Maidstone.

Ah, there's a clear stretch of road,

car's going like a bird.

I put my feet down and look at

the needle. We're doing seventy-five.

I start to let her out, ninety.

Denise is worried,

so I throttle down

and the needle's coming

back to eighty, seventy-five.

Go on, take deep breaths

and keep talking.

I'm looking at the needle.

It's hovering under seventy.

I'm looking at the needle.

You're looking at the needle.

I'm looking at the needle.

I'm doing seventy.

No, I can't breathe!

We're doing seventy.

Prade, I can't... can't breathe!

Take it off!

Take it off!

Prade! You're trying

to kill me, aren't you?

Take it off!

You'll kill me!

"You'll kill me."

Kill you, Denise?

Why should I kill you? I love you.

No, speed itself

isn't dangerous.

You've got a beautiful neck.

Did I ever tell you?

But that chain

needs shortening.

Try it tighter, so that the

crucifix is higher, like this.

No, I'm not going

to strangle you.

I just want to see what

it looks like, that's all.

What? Wrong side.

I'm not on the wrong side.

I'm on the wrong

side of the road!

What's he doing?

I can't get back! I can't get back!

Denise!

I'm sorry, Denise. Sorry.

What's this?

Glucose.

Can you remember anything?

I was on the wrong side

of the road. It was my fault.

At the last minute

he shot over to his right side

to avoid me and I did

the same to the left,

so when we hit he was

on the wrong side.

Well, at least

we got you there.

But I'm guilty, Prade.

I killed that truck driver.

- You did, but not intentionally.

- I killed him.

Through carelessness.

Through dangerous driving.

That's all you're guilty of.

And we've all been guilty

of that some time or other.

I've got to tell them, Prade.

I've got to tell them

it was my fault.

Now don't be a fool, man.

If you open up all that again, you will

put Denise in a fine position.

Denise! Yes, she said in court,

she always said that...

She was protecting you.

Maybe misguidedly,

but a typical female reaction.

She loved you,

not the truck driver.

I killed him.

Well, you didn't kill Denise.

No. And I thought I had.

I thought I had.

That's why you felt like

killing her ever since.

In the moment of terror

you've just relived on that couch

you thought you'd killed Denise,

the object of your love.

You felt so guilty,

you wanted to punish yourself.

And the only way

to diminish your guilt was by

suffering what you felt you should

have suffered if she'd been killed.

This is terrifying. Terrifying!

The mind can be terrifying,

but fascinating, too.

See how even your method of killing her

was conditioned by the accident.

Your hand on the gold chain

around her neck.

The association of strangling

at a time of maximum shock.

Give me a cigarette,

will you?

Yes, of course.

You see, unpleasant as

killing Denise would be,

it was more satisfactory

to your subconscious than

facing the horror of that

moment before the crash.

Fortunately, you came for treatment

before Denise was lying truly dead.

Yeah, yeah.

I see, but what do I do now?

Get on with your life.

You're finished with guilt.

Go home to Denise,

sleep with her.

You've nothing more

to be afraid of.

I... I am all right, aren't I?

Well, you will probably feel

a little bit strange

for a while,

but that's not unusual

after the violent

abreaction you've had.

Do you have any more

of those sleep-capsules?

Oh, no.

I've finished them.

A good night's sleep

is the best thing,

especially if you're going

to travel tomorrow.

Prade, I can't tell you

how grateful I am.

Oh, nonsense.

I've got a great deal out of it, too.

This capsule

is just as good, hmm?

Well, I won't want to see you again,

professionally, I mean.

But I might come and say

bon voyage to you both

tomorrow morning.

Yeah. Please do.

Our plane doesn't leave till two.

I've given you two.

Take them both, huh?

Yes, Doctor.

And thanks again.

Ah, there's a good girl.

One husband, ready for coffee.

Too late.

I'm coming to get it.

Really, the service

in this hotel is terrible.

All right, so you'll get a good cup

of coffee for a change.

And don't use

all the hot water.

Oh, no. Don't say we're out of it.

Er, Denise?

Where'd you hide the coffee?

I know, you just don't

like me showing you how to...

Hello, Alan.

What a wonderful morning.

You know,

it's not nonsense about the spring.

The sap does rise

and the hormones do circulate.

How do you feel?

Fine. But what are

you doing here?

Well, at least

it's an unusual welcome.

You asked me up for a farewell drink,

don't you remember?

Oh, yes, of course.

I'm sorry. Glad to see you.

What time is it?

Holy smoke! I've overslept.

Well, go and get dressed and

Denise will look after me, huh?

Sure. As soon as she gets back.

Did she say where she'd gone?

Denise? No. Is she out?

I've not seen her.

You haven't seen her?

Well, not today.

Well, how did you get in?

Oh! With this.

Well, you'd better

take it back.

I took the liberty

of letting myself in.

How'd you come

to get hold of this?

It's a relic of the bad old days.

Denise gave it to me.

As a... as a sort of safety

precaution in case...

Well, in case anybody

wanted me quickly.

I won't need it any more, will I?

Er, no.

Denise!

You seem worried.

Anything wrong?

I can't think

where she's got to.

She's probably slipped out

for that coffee you were shouting about.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's right.

We're out of coffee.

Oh, go ahead and

don't worry about me.

I'll even make some tea...

- Oh, Prade...

- Huh?

- You're not holding anything back, are you?

- About what?

She hasn't...

She hasn't left me, has she?

Left you?

After all she's been through for you?

You swear you'd tell me?

Of course I'd tell you.

Now just sit down

and you tell me something.

Yeah. What?

Why shouldn't she have

gone out for some coffee?

I don't know.

I suppose she could have.

It's 10:
30. She knows we've got

a plane to catch in a few hours.

She could have left

a note or something.

Maybe she did.

Have you looked?

No.

Well, there's no note.

Look, isn't your anxiety

a little out of proportion

to the reality

of the situation?

Yeah, yeah,

I suppose so.

She was all right

last night, wasn't she?

Well, of course.

Then relax.

Tell me,

what happened last night?

You went to bed together

and then what?

I don't know. I took your pills

and I suppose they blurred my memory.

You did not take them, Alan.

Then why have I slept so late?

At what time did you go to bed?

Oh, early. About nine.

Nine! Nearly fourteen hours

without a hypnotic.

That's very hard to believe.

I don't care what you believe.

I'm telling you, I just woke up.

Alan, I don't think

you've been asleep fourteen hours.

You must have been awake

for some of the time.

- Don't you remember getting up or...

- No.

- ...reading or anything...

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