Trance Page #5

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It's in a red Alfa Romeo in the

underground car park in Marble Arch.

I love you, Simon.

I love you, too.

Please, Simon.

Calm down, you've got it all wrong.

It's not what you think.

She's using you, Simon. She's

using you like she used us.

She has been using you

from the start, Simon.

Elizabeth?

Elizabeth?

So where has

she gone? Huh?

Don't let her get away.

Not after all this.

I know, Franck.

I know what you

were going to do to me.

She put that there.

It's not real.

She's not coming back, Simon.

Once she gets it, she's gone!

If I wanted to kill you,

why aren't you dead?

Because she loves me.

And I love her!

That's what

she thinks of you.

It's my gun. It's empty.

She took it from my apartment.

Where the f*** do you

think you're going?

I got this.

So...

...who knows?

She does.

You leave her alone.

He found it the first time.

The first time

he came to see me.

Remember?

You thought you'd just

found your car keys.

But you were

right, it's in there.

It's in the car. I took it to pieces.

It's not in there.

No, it's not in his car.

In the other car.

The red one.

Where is it?

Please, I can show you.

I can show you.

Get him dressed.

Go and get it.

And take him with you.

What is this? You're lucky

you're still in, Franck.

Go and get it.

Bring it back here and we'll

keep an eye on her. Promise.

Say something.

Allow the mushy sh*t.

Doesn't give up,

does she?

Go and get it, boss.

Like he says, you're

lucky you're still in.

Drink?

Yeah. Cheers, mate.

Franck.

You see what she

gave to me, Franck.

That's what she thinks of me.

Oh my God!

Allow me, bruv, I didn't touch her.

Wait, wait.

F***!

You knew.

You...

Help me!

...you knew...

...what I would like...

...didn't you?

Help me. Help me.

Okay. Get down the stairs.

Get down the stairs!

No, no, no...

Please?

Please don't.

He can help us. Simon?

Please.

You go.

Okay.

It's really silly of me.

I've been out

of the country. And...

...I'm such an idiot. Everything's a

mess and I can't find the ticket...

...but I really need the car.

1,848.

Not a mistake

I'll make again.

Not here.

Franck knows a good place.

Don't you, Franck?

You can drive.

On you go.

You, too.

You sit in the back.

Tie your hand on to the wheel.

Tie it tight.

Tighter than that.

Here you go.

I would like to

know what happened.

It's all inside

my head, isn't it?

There's something hidden...

...inside me.

What is it?

It's a memory.

A memory?

Suppressed?

Yeah.

Simon...

...maybe there are some things

it's better never to remember.

Don't!

Franck, you're alive because I allow

it, but I can change my mind.

I have free will.

Don't I?

Yeah, yeah.

Don't I?!

Yes.

All right, then.

All right, then,

let's see if I do.

You take me to it.

So...

...it's a year

and a half earlier.

You wanna stop gambling.

That's all.

All in.

You select

a hypnotherapist at random.

And so you go to meet her.

Simon Newton.

Thank you very much.

Hello.

I'm Elizabeth Lamb.

Hello, there.

Nice to meet you.

Simon Newton. Hello.

Have a seat.

Thank you very much.

So...what would you

like to talk about?

Now I have a moderate problem

with online gambling.

I still have enough money to pay

for dinner and things, though.

You get along well.

There is an immediate rapport.

And so treatment begins.

But your addiction

is hard to crack

and repeated sessions

are required.

Cheers. We should do this with alcohol.

You grow close

to the therapist.

I miss you

when I'm not here.

Too close.

And so you

begin an affair.

A strongly sexual affair.

You stay there.

She knows

that it's wrong.

She shouldn't do this, not with a client.

But she does.

If you look at

the Sistine Chapel,

there's tons of flesh

but there's no hair.

The hair serves to remind us

of our biology. Our origin.

But without it there's a

perfection, untainted.

Anyway, art moved on,

as it must, it has to.

But, actually,

no, it was Goya's fault.

'The Naked Maja'. After that,

it's always there, the hair.

Yeah, that's the lady.

That's modern art.

No perfection anymore.

Hey.

Okay, I get it.

She will do

anything for you.

You fall in love...

...with a kind of perfection.

The kind you like.

You're an elephant?

No, I'm not an elephant.

No, it's the Goya. It's 'The Witches In The Air'

that I was telling you about.

But then

you become possessive.

Suspicious. Night and day...

...you fear that you will lose her.

It torments you.

And you become jealous.

- Who are you texting?

- Sorry, work.

You start to believe that

you depend upon her.

That without her

you will die.

You start to hate her

as much as you love her.

And then one evening...

...after you've accused her

of looking at another man...

You keep

your mouth shut!

Why don't you just sit down. Don't

they make a beautiful couple?

You can just look at him now.

Just feast your f***ing eyes!

Elizabeth. No, I'm leaving.

I'm leaving.

She knows

she has to get out.

She has to break it off

but you won't let her go.

You persist.

You apologize. You write long letters

vowing never to do it again.

You weep, you call.

She is frightened.

I need to talk to

you for 2 minutes.

Really frightened now.

Please let me come in.

And she knows

if this goes on...

...there can be

only one outcome.

Hi. How are you doing?

I just need you to let me

apologize and see that you accept that.

I need to see

that in your eyes

and then I'll leave

you alone. I promise.

In the end...

...she knows that you will kill her.

Please, stop!

Simon, you're hurting me.

It's okay.

No, it's not okay.

The police are not interested.

Lawyers advise her to change her

name, to leave the country...

...but she will not do this.

She will not be

a victim twice over.

Instead,

she will take control.

So she perverts

the therapy...

...you've insisted

on continuing.

Simon...

...it's not the gambling

that you want to forget.

It's me.

You want to forget me.

You made me forget?

She makes you

want to forget.

You're forgetting me.

You're forgetting us.

And you feel so much more relaxed.

So much more free.

Leave.

And gradually--

day by day...

...week by week you do.

You call less often.

The passions subside.

You're late for therapy.

Then one day

you don't come at all.

At last you have suppressed

the memory of me.

But you knew.

You knew I'd come back...

...one day.

Your memory

is not destroyed.

It is locked in a cage.

And with enough...

...force...

...enough violence...

...the lock can be broken.

It comes back,

the memory.

Not completely.

Not entirely,

but enough to drive you...

...to make you feel

you have been cheated.

Enough to make you angry.

Franck!

What did she look like?

You.

God, are you all right?

Elizabeth.

No, I'm not Elizabeth.

Shall I call

for an ambulance?

I remember.

I remember everything.

Why don't I take

you to hospital?

As the memory comes back...

Okay?

Shall I help you with your seat belt?

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