The Longest Week Page #4

but I've only got 36 hours

of clean underwear left.

I've got no idea

what to do, you know?

I feel like Napoleon after Waterloo,

dying in exile

on the coast of St Helena.

You're gonna be alright, Connie.

You think?

I promise you.

You're gonna be alright.

Alright.

Listen. I need to take the antiques!

You don't need to do anything!

They were in my family!

They belong to me.

Your family? Your family?

That desk was from Marie Antoinette!

Please!

It's a fake! Yes. it was!

I'm sorry, sir.

No one picked up.

Is there another number

you'd like to try?

Um...

No, no. That's OK.

That's fine. Thank you.

I think it's a pretty good

pairing over there.

She's very,

opinionated and judgemental.

Yeah.

I told you this was a bad idea.

Shut up. Shut up.

Well, then, tell me about him!

Seriously?

Yes, seriously! Of course!

Here I am. I'm listening.

Is... is this a joke?

What a pitiful advocate you are.

Speak whether it's a joke or not!

Why are you looking

all around the room like that?

You... you really

are in a temper!

I wish to take a lover, Octave,

or if not a lover

at least a cavalier.

Whom do you suggest?

I shall abide by your choice.

From tomorrow... from this evening,

whoever has a fancy to sing beneath

my window will find my door ajar.

Well...

Well?! Nothing to say?

Marry me!

Sure don't like the way

you were looking at Dylan tonight.

I am not doing anything!

OK, maybe it's me, but I don't know.

Just stop it.

I don't know.

I didn't even understand

any of the Parisian speak.

I think they were Canadian.

Bonsoir, Monsieur Valmont.

Hello, Didier.

Your usual table is waiting.

Great. Thank you.

Will you be paying tonight

or putting it on the books?

It will be on the books.

And that goes for

the whole table, so...

Very well.

Please, right this way.

Shall we? It's just down here.

S'il vous plat. Bonsoir.

Yes.

It's just a little bit.

I'll just have a little.

What did you think?

I don't know.

I felt that it was

sort of pretentious.

It seemed like everyone

who was in the theatre

was just there to be seen.

There to be seen?

It was a theatre.

It was pitch black in there.

How am I supposed to care

about a group of

over-privileged affluent types

who go gallivanting around without

any sort of a moral compass?

The affluent have plenty

of problems. I'm a mess.

I'm sorry, but I'm very sensitive

to an audience's reaction

and I couldn't get into it.

If they all jumped off a bridge,

would you join them?

I hate that analogy. I really do.

But maybe. Maybe there's a reason

why they're all doing that.

Maybe the bridge is about

to explode and no one told me.

That's a good point.

I'm just...

How am I supposed to sympathise

with these characters?

No one suffers any consequences

for their actions,

no one learns anything

and nobody changes.

It was a satire.

I didn't get that at all.

- I love this place. It's so chic.

- Wait.

I thought you said that

the door policy was discriminatory

and this place was insipid.

I did say that,

but that was before I came inside.

I'm gonna go.

Count to five and then follow me.

Are you wearing perfume?

Excuse me?

Don't you feel

a bit strange about being an artist

in a world that's

already so full of art?

Isn't that sort of a waste?

I forget. What do you do?

I'm getting

a doctorate at Columbia

is postmodern criticism.

For me, I think that people who are

creative are really just indulgent.

There's already so much.

We don't need any more.

And there are so many people

who are without, you know?

You should... just be a farmer.

You can always tell

what someone thinks of you

by who they set you up with.

The only reason that

I'm dancing with you

is because I'm incredibly drunk.

I despise you

and everything that you stand for.

Where are Conrad and Beatrice?

I don't know. Do you wanna

get another drink?

You're a bit of a philistine,

aren't you?

I'm sorry. Wait.

Tell me your name again.

Jocelyn.

Are you kidding me?

I just got out of a three-year

relationship with a Jocelyn.

Do you wanna sleep over?

Your place or mine?

I live in a dorm.

Definitely mine.

You know, I realised

something the other day.

Usually the women that

I like as human beings,

I'm not sexually attracted to

and the ones that

I'm sexually attracted to

I don't particularly like

as human beings.

On the rare occasion when one of them

falls into both categories

they usually have

a boyfriend or a husband.

What are you trying to say?

I'm trying to say...

What I'm trying to say is it's great

that you don't have a boyfriend.

But I am married.

Is that a problem?

You're a cheater, though.

Right? Yeah.

I gotta tell Dylan.

I've gotta tell him, right?

I mean, tell him.

Just tell him right out

and you just... just let him know.

You just tell him. Gotta tell him.

You gotta tell him. Gotta tell him.

You gotta tell him.

God.

This was it.

This was the moment Conrad

would right his wrongs.

Hey.

This was the moment he would

bare his soul to his only friend...

What's going on?

...and tell him of his betrayal.

This was the moment Conrad

would ask for forgiveness.

Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

What? Does something

seem like it's going on?

Yeah, it seemed like you were

about to say something.

No. No, no, not at all.

Where's the friend?

You mean Jocelyn?

No, the friend.

Yeah, the friend's name is Jocelyn.

Really? Ironic.

Yeah.

I don't wanna talk about it.

Didn't have sex with her?

No, I didn't have sex with her.

I had to talk to her all night.

She only left half an hour ago.

It was horrible.

So, what happened last night?

What happened

was that it was amazing

and we talked until the sun came up!

That's amazing!

I have something

I have to ask you.

Yes.

Are you sleeping with Beatrice?

No.

No.

Good.

Good man.

There's something

I'd like to ask you.

May I sleep with Beatrice?

Definitely not. No.

I've got something

I'd like to tell you.

What is it now?

Beatrice and I are already together.

Hey, Dylan, Dylan! Easy, easy!

I'll f***ing kill you!

Now, as we ease into adulthood

sometimes a good stiff drink

is the only excuse we have

for committing the atrocities

we really want to.

"Ease into adulthood"?

We're nearly 40!

Careful. I said I was sorry, OK?

I was gonna...

You're a selfish a**hole.

Now, hang on.

Selfish? Dylan,

you're the one that's selfish.

I might actually

have a shot with her, OK?

She could be... the one.

"The one"!

What are you, 14?

It's not charming anymore, Conrad.

I need you to sleep

somewhere else tonight.

You're kicking me out?

And you realise by kicking me out

I'll probably move in with Beatrice?

Sometimes you're

your own worst enemy.

Conrad's ability to trust

had been marred by years

of betrayal and deceit

for others had only

dated or befriended him

to gain access to his wealth.

He had been quoted

on numerous occasions

as saying that no one

could be trusted.

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