Original subtitles

I'm going to come.

- Clemence! - You look absolutely beautiful.

You won't join us for 5 minutes?

Oh no!

Discipline, Michel, discipline.

Have a good day.

Paul. Come talk to Mum.

Hello!

Paul!

You're not really experiencing it, but it's hell!

Paul, no more flute. Come and talk to Mummy.

Hello Mummy.

Ah! There you are!

How far did you go?

2 kilometres.

But my time was really, really bad, so, I won't even tell you.

And who are you?

I'm the son of Darth Vader and Cleopatra.

Okay...

I thought you were your mother's son.

Yes, as well. But also Darth Vader and Cleopatra.

Okay!

Hey Laurent?

Yeah?

I have adult tickets for the show next weekend.

Do you want to come?

Next weekend... I'm in Normandy

You're blocked...

And you look awful.

Is that better?

Ah, that's it.

Will you show me your sky?

Yes! Wait.

There you are. See it?

Come on, faster.

Go on, go on! Faster, faster!

OFF LIMITS

We overlook Place Dauphine.

It's the end of summer.

I'm dipping my salt and pepper chips in ketchup.

I had a club sandwich, he had a croque-monsieur.

"He" is my ex.

My first lover, and until further notice, my last.

We're still married, since we haven't divorced.

He and I were together for 20 years.

I left him three years ago.

His name is Laurent.

For our 8-year-old son, for Paul...

we take alternate weeks, by mutual agreement.

There's never a problem.

For the past few months, I've switched to girls.

That's what I want to tell him.

That's what the dinner is about.

Should we change his piano lessons when school starts again?

If you think it's necessary, sure.

Oh, I don't know, but...

He's not advancing.

He's a little boy.

But she... she's still a bit...

Too easygoing.

She's really way too easygoing.

Easygoing to the point of being soft.

A cream-puff.

Listen...

I've been having affairs with girls.

Love-affairs.

But "love", really?

Yes, well...

You see...

Yes?

Same again.

Well...

Well, then...

What makes me happy is that you're happy.

Thank you.

There you are.

I drink more than this.

It's only champagne for me nowadays

Costs me a fortune.

But it's true...

You really are looking good.

I swim a lot.

It's not only that.

No, you're beautiful, really.

No, seriously.

I think I'll take Paul to see my father for All Saints' Day.

Oh, cool.

Yeah. He hasn't seen him since Easter.

- He'll be happy. - Yeah.

How is your dad?

Ah, well... You know my dad.

Still the same.

He grumbles on the phone, he...

...feels sorry for you.

Yeah?

He says that... you must feel lonely.

He's not wrong.

Well, good night.

- No? - No, not at all.

Okay...

I thought so.

Madam.

See you.

Well, yes, that's the idea.

Stop it. How come you're here?

Stop it.

- So cool, that you're coming. - Yeah.

What are these shots?

Why don't we just get divorced?

Shall we go?

Go on, go.

Stop getting me excited

What?

I'm going home.

- No, no. - Yes, yes, yes.

Okay, good night.

No, no, no. Kisses, Paul.

Yes.

From me.

Okay, good night.

What's she doing?

Are you leaving already?

Laurent?

Is everything alright?

Well...

He doesn't want to come.

I'm sorry.

What do you mean, he doesn't want to come?

He doesn't want to.

We're not going to force him, I'll make arrangements.

No, but...

I can just...

No.

No, this is ridiculous, come on.

- Go ahead. - I'll talk to him.

Hello, Paul.

Hello.

Paul Leveque wanted boarding gate number 14

for immediate departure to the Moon. Gate 14.

The rocket will launch soon.

Clemence, he doesn't want to see you.

Come on, let's have a juice.

And I have the tickets for the exhibition we wanted to see.

I don't want to see you.

Come on, get out of there, come on. Stop this, come on.

I don't want to see you, I'm telling you.

Yes, but this is how it is. It's our week.

Besides, I've planned lots of things. Come on.

Come on... Come here. Paul...

Paul...

I don't want to see you. I hate you.

Go away.

Did something happen between you two?

Did you have a fight?

Come off it... his anger isn't directed at me, is it?

Do you find that funny?

OK... OK.

If he changes his mind, will you call me?

OK.

It seems a mess, but it's OK.

Okay...

Bye bye.

And Paul, I'm calling you!

I love you!

Discipline, Clemence.

Discipline.

Did you bring up the divorce again?

It wasn't really the right time.

It's anything but a punishment to show me your back.

You're exhausting me, Elisabeth.

I know.

Still, I don't understand why you let him call you "his wife".

I don't understand what you were thinking, getting married.

With a guy, too.

That was common back then.

And... is he handsome, at least?

Yes.

No, not really.

But we were comfortable with each other.

What a bourgeois girl!

Now that he knows you're a lesbian, he's angry.

Hmm?

Can you stop talking, please?

What if I don't want to?

I said "please".

So you did.

Don't you want to stay a little longer?

It's still early.

Go back to sleep.

I'm going for a swim.

Yeah?

Hello?

Do you know what time it is?

Hi, Laurent. Can you put Paul on, please?

He's getting ready for school.

Can you put him on, please?

Wait.

It's Mum, have a word with her before we go.

He doesn't want to talk to you.

He's a child. Can you put him on?

As you wish.

Hello? Paul?

My pet?

You're angry with me but I don't know why.

How about we go for a Coke and you explain.

Okay?

Would you mind?

Clemence, I told you, he doesn't want to talk to you.

But he's 8 years old!

Since when does he get to decide?

You know how to raise a child properly, do you?

Excuse me?

Never mind. Goodbye, we're going to school.

For several months, I could not fathom the situation

between the father and our son.

Maybe Laurent is right.

Maybe Paul hates me, maybe it's my fault.

Maybe I'm guilty of something.

I'm trying to understand what I did wrong.

It's like that in all volunteer groups.

It's always the same people who get stuck with it.

Oh yeah?

It's not that complicated.

Hello?

Yes, noted.

What?

July 4th, 3 pm.

I understand.

Thank you, Vincent.

No, don't worry, it's fine.

Yes, 'bye.

So?

So...

July 4th, 3 pm...

He's asking for...

sole custody and...

and the termination of my parental rights.

For what reason?

That's ridiculous.

He accuses me of incest and paedophilia.

Directly or through an intermediary.

What the hell is that?

How long has it been since you've seen your son?

Six months!

OK.

Ladies and gentlemen...

I have to write.

Gotta go.

It'll be alright.

Chin up, my friends.

Give me your code instead of coming downstairs every time.

Don't you want to get undressed?

No.

Just your jeans.

Tell me what's going on.

Nothing. I want you.

Oh, great.

Did I forget your birthday or something like that?

Look, I'm on my knees before you.

What did the lawyer say to you?

Well?

I want you.

Just because you've broken up doesn't mean I have to break up.

What's with the way you're talking?

Is that a line from a TV show?

- You're so stupid. - Wait, I'm sorry.

What?

It's...

Yeah... bye bye.

I would like to read you this passage from one of the books

that can be found at Mme Delcourt's.

By this, I mean that Paul, too, can find it.

"I had known Vincent

"in 1982, when he was a child.

"He had remained so in my daydreams,

"I had to resign myself to the fact that he had become a man.

"I continued to love him for what he no longer was."

I should point out, Your Honour, that I will not read the passages

that are most explicitly paedophilic.

My client did not write these books.

Well, there's more.

In this photo,

we can see a child in the arms of an unusually naked man,

leaning on a table on which there are many glasses of alcohol.

It was Gay Pride.

And in this other image, a joke, I suppose...

in astonishing taste when talking about one's own child.

And I will finish with this letter from Paul which I will read to you.

Can we avoid further humiliations for my client?

Summarise, please.

Good. So...

I'll simply say

that the child mentions the inhuman dimension

of life with his mother.

That she is, and I quote, "crazy"

and that he doesn't want to see her anymore.

Thank you, Your Honour.

Thank you, Counsel.

In the file, it is mentioned that you recounted

your latest romantic affairs, to Paul, Mme Delcourt.

And that a forthcoming book relates your many stories with women.

Can you tell me more?

Yes.

I introduced Paul to someone with whom I'd a long-term relationship.

Are you talking about it in the past tense?

That relationship ended.

But you saw fit to introduce a fleeting conquest,

a woman, no less, to your 8-year-old child.

Your honour...

it seems to me that we are straying somewhat from our subject.

My client had a serious relationship with someone.

She informed her son, as anyone would have done.

And regarding your living situation.

I see you're planning to move to a new apartment.

Yes.

Will there be a room set aside to accommodate Paul?

No, Your Honour, it's a place that's been lent to me.

Right now, I can't afford to rent a two- or three-room apartment.

I would like to add that I haven't seen Paul for 9 months...

and that it didn't seem necessary to me.

But obviously, if things were to return to normal,

and with the contract for my new book, I'd be happy to...

Pardon me interrupting...

I emphasise here that Mme Delcourt has a choice...

and I emphasise the word "choice"...

not to resume her work as a lawyer...

and therefore no longer to be paid to the extent...

that her commitment as a mother should entail.

Finally, it seems to me that it's a choice...

...that it's been nine months since she last saw her son.

She could have made arrangements in order to have decent housing.

I offer 60 euros.

Okay.

- Have a good day. - Thank you.

Goodbye.

The judge gives her ruling a few days later.

She appoints a psychiatrist to evaluate all three of us.

She gives him six months to submit his report.

As always with the justice system, this is a suggested time-frame.

It could take a year, two years, three years.

In the meantime, Laurent has sole custody.

I only retain limited and supervised visitation rights.

"High-profile," as the courts say.

One hour every two weeks, at a community centre...

A "meeting space", near Republique...

where child development specialists will attend the meeting

between Paul and me.

Like for a mother on crack or a father who hits.

And even then, it's limited.

I'm appealing.

An appeal that doesn't suspend anything.

The decision, with provisional enforcement, still applies.

I won't have a hearing for 2 years.

2 years is 1,000 years.

2 years is never.

There she is, looking at you.

May I?

I avoid parks, gardens, the areas around schools,

bakeries late in the afternoon.

I take detours.

I hide on Wednesdays.

I hadn't noticed how many there were...

How there were children everywhere.

I have the feeling they're there for me, to taunt me.

To remind me of what I've more or less managed to forget...

through sheer self-discipline.

My personal discipline.

My swimming laps...

and all the girls I see.

I flee from children as though they were cluster-bombs...

waiting to explode in my face...

...riddle my body with tiny shards of metal.

I keep my distance. I avoid them.

But they are stronger...

I always end up being seduced.

Parent-child Republic meeting space I'm listening. Hello?

My name is Clemence Delcourt.

I'm calling to schedule an appointment...

and last week I was told to call you back.

Can you give me your name and case number?

I spoke to your colleague...

Name and case number, please.

Of course.

My name is Clemence Delcourt,

File AF89...

V-37-7-E-12.

Okay.

So, what can I do for you?

As I was saying, I already spoke to your colleague.

There are several of us here...

so explain the situation to me again, otherwise, we won't get anywhere.

Very well.

So... It's about arranging a meeting...

between my son, Paul Leveque, and me, in the presence of a third party.

I have a ruling dating from July...

and since then, I've been calling you every week.

And we haven't been able to find you a date yet?

That's right.

I see.

I can't give you a date, because it's a first meeting, right?

Yes.

So, you need to speak with my supervisor...

who is supposed to meet with you, you and the child.

The child is with the father.

Okay, I see.

My supervisor will see the child and his father, then you.

And we'll consider a meeting between Paul and you.

Could you write down my manager's email address?

Okay, I'll remember it.

Good, then...

It's e-r-p-e-rcontact.org.

Okay. Thank you.

Anything else I can do for you?

No.

Have a wonderful day.

Goodbye to you too.

He was born.

I saw him for the first time, with his own face, his own body...

his own life, his own death.

He wasn't really crying.

He had a not-happy look that I liked.

I understood that he was just what he was...

Not a story we tell ourselves.

I said that he was named Paul.

His surname is his father's but the first-name was mine.

It doesn’t happen in other loves... to name the one you love...

so that he may be loved by others...

So that he may go his own way one day.

They made small wrist-bands... one for him, one for me.

They dressed him.

We went back to my room. I was awfully hungry.

They gave me a steak.

I didn't sleep much that night.

He cried a little bit. It scared me.

I held him against the crook of my shoulder.

I walked out into the corridor.

He felt very light, and very heavy at the same time.

I thought about the bitches of my childhood.

I'd seen how they did it...

how they took care of their puppies...

without ridicule, without shame...

without losing anything of who they were...

without giving up.

And as they resumed hunting the following season...

I thought it was very simple...

and that there were no questions to ask...

that I was going to do it my way...

without the absurdity of women, without the obscenity of mothers.

That's fine, all done. Off you go!

- Thank you. - Sorry, I was a bit harsh.

That's OK.

It's wonderful that you're here, Madame Clemence.

It'll do your dad good.

Because morale is important.

It's even crucial, isn't it?

See you tomorrow.

- See you tomorrow. - Okay, bye.

Come on...

Can I talk to you?

Yes.

He's not feeling very well.

It would be good to try to get him out a bit...

In the park for 5 minutes... something like that.

It's no good me trying to tell him.

Sure.

You're looking too thin... are you eating properly?

- Yes. - It's important to eat.

I'm off, I'm running late. See you tomorrow.

'Bye.

Your mother was just your age, when she died.

It's no small thing, in a lifetime, to have loved a woman like that.

Yeah...

It's no small thing.

Good morning.

Mme Delcourt, please come in.

I'll start by cutting out any unnecessary suspense.

Paul loves you, and you love Paul.

There's no doubt about it.

And it's obvious that you're not crazy.

And...

My expertise reveals that Paul...

was manipulated by his father...

and that he doesn't believe anything about what he wrote...

in his letter to the court. Quite obviously.

Now, I'm going to tell you...

What's happening to you is not uncommon.

I see many cases like yours every year.

What's less common is that usually, it's the other way around.

It's the fathers who leave.

It's seldom the mother.

For some cases, it can to be considered more serious.

Even unpardonable.

So...

You are going to tell the judge that I'm fit to see my son?

I'll submit my report...

emphasising your psychological and emotional stability...

and your ability to be a mother.

I will emphasise that Paul misses you...

and that he is suffering in this situation.

Now, I must to tell you...

that my report is likely to be of little use.

As long as Mr Leveque holds on to this anger...

in this violence,

it could take years with the justice system.

You know that better than I do.

But we mustn't give up.

No, don't give up.

Your son has attributes.

You've made him strong

Lamb of God, who's removed the world's sins...

have mercy on us.

Hello, Mouloud.

Oh, Clemence.

Is this the big departure?

Yeah.

Do you want this... for your son?

Come here, Ishmael.

I found it while sorting.

It has Mickey Mouse on the back.

Thank you.

I hope we'll see you again.

Sure. I'm moving to a different suburb, not a different country.

You know the address. You're always welcome.

- Yes. - May I...?

Sure.

- Are you saying goodbye? - Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Hello.

Coming with me, children?

Come on.

I'll bring them back in half an hour.

Are you coming, Timothy?

Dad's waiting for you and you'll see Mum right after.

Come on.

Is this your first time at the supervised visitation centre?

They took all three of them to meet their father.

Sorry...

I talk too much.

No, it's...

I say whatever I think, I'm...

...as transparent as glass.

That's what my mother keeps telling me.

At the same time...

You must be there for them, right?

I'm sure of that.

"Child protection"

That's easily said.

I don't know how they protect my kids like that, by...

by exposing them to their father. I...

Even they couldn't tell me.

They knew nothing.

It won't last, anyway.

He'll be back in jail before Xmas, that's for sure.

That's what I think.

Sorry... I'll shut up.

It's obvious you're a good person.

What are you doing here?

Can I "tu" you?

Yes, of course.

I have three.

That's the best thing I've done.

I could tell right away you were new.

You still have hope in your eyes.

That's nice.

I'm going out for a smoke. Join me?

No, I'll stay here. I need to concentrate.

You're right. They hate mums who smoke.

I can't help myself, otherwise, I'll go bonkers.

So, it's better to smoke.

Yeah.

It'll be alright, right?

Us birds never give up!

We could call this "a break in the narration".

I read in your file that you write.

Good.

It is time now, and we're here, to help you in this regard...

to re-establish the connection, concerning Paul.

To give Dad and Mum their rightful place.

And when?

Depending on the review of the file...

Excuse me.

Sorry, I don't quite understand your language.

Mum or Dad...

I'm not the mum, I'm his mother...

and I haven't seen Paul for a year and a half.

I don't know if you understand what I'm saying.

Paul needs to see his mother.

Let's not get upset, okay?

We're here to help you, but especially to help Paul.

We'll see Paul again with his dad...

and then we'll call you back to schedule the first appointment.

But when?

It could be very quick.

In a month or two.

A year and a half without him.

Two Christmases, one of his birthdays.

One Mother's Day.

Two of my birthdays.

And all the other days.

What is this thing?

It was the nurse's idea.

Did she do it?

No, but she absolutely insists that I prove to her that I value my life.

Did you do it?

So you see...

It's obvious I value my life, isn't it?

Until death!

- Merry Christmas. - Oh, you're annoying.

Yes.

I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you.

Thanks.

If you don't mind, I'm going to bed.

Good night.

Good night, sweetie.

My darling, don't listen to those who say it's a big deal we don't see each other...

...and that you must miss me

and how unhappy you must be.

Those who look embarrassed when I am mentioned...

or the situation or all of these things.

I know you know that you shouldn't listen to anything

and that people talk a lot of nonsense.

You well know how to lower your eyes and let them talk.

When it concerns your father and me and his anger against me...

and all that he said about me, to the judge and to you...

Don't be offended by it.

Don't hold it against him.

It's common, as you know, for former lovers to quarrel.

It's an old story... the vials of acid...

...we throw in each other's faces when we no longer love each other.

I still prefer that, to people who dine together

on the day of their divorce.

I prefer the truth of war to the hypocrisy of peace.

I don't know if you hate me.

You don't have to answer me.

You have the right to hate me.

It's even a necessity of love, to hate.

There is no love without hate.

Those who say otherwise are liars or cowards.

A child's love is necessary for their parents...

Even more so for a son's love for his mother, to hate her.

Yet many sons never manage it.

I myself, a girl, who loved my mother like a son...

I don't know if I would have succeeded.

And I think that's why she died.

She knew that I didn't have the courage to kill her...

and that you have to kill the one you love,

to know that you're capable of it,

that you always have the right.

Love is brutality.

Don't be sad when you think of me. Sadness doesn't help.

If you are ever sad... know that I think of you every day.

I'm your mother.

I always will be as long as I live.

With all my love...

Mum.

My grandparents are dead. The house has been sold.

My father doesn't have a penny.

For 15 years, he's lived all alone in the shack

where the cook slept, without anything to regret.

Oh my, Clemence, that was great.

- Thank you. - That's too much beautiful.

- Thank you. - Fantastic.

Thank you, goodbye.

What should I put?

Whatever you want.

The kitchen is right there.

On the other hand, the fridge is in the living room.

And I'd like to introduce you to...

Odile, Clemence.

Clemence, Odile.

And here's your room.

OK.

So, if you pay for the cleaning lady and the booze, we're good.

- OK. - Cool.

And if I bring some girls home, that's not a problem for you?

And what about me, if I bring some girls home?

That's cool. Very cool.

Cool.

Cool. So...

Welcome home.

Thanks.

Are you sure it's OK for me to take the table?

Go ahead, I don't use it.

Perfect! Oh, yeah.

It'll be fine.

I'll wait for you at the café.

See you later.

Do you have a little present for him?

Yes, a compass key-chain.

- Great! - Yeah?

- Yes, of course. - OK.

She sighs.

He'll love it.

Everything's going to be fine.

Okay, let's sit down around this table.

Wait.

Okay, I'm going to explain how this meeting will proceed.

You'll see, it's very simple.

Can I...

Sorry. Can he come and sit on my lap?

Paul, is that okay?

Do you want to come?

Marie and I will stay in this room

during the hour you have to be with your mum.

If you have any questions or requests, you can talk to us.

We're here for you, okay?

To reassure you if you need it.

Good. It's 11.10... Let's say this meeting will end around 12.15.

We're not in this room. Right?

Just pretend we're not here.

Is this for me?

Well, yes. It's a gift.

It's a compass key-chain.

- I haven't even opened it. - Oh yes, sorry.

Where are you in Paris?

Right now, I live in Le Marais.

Where is that from here?

It's...

South.

Southwest, I think.

Is this it?

And where is it in relation to Dad's house?

Northeast.

There.

Yeah.

Have I grown?

Oh yeah!

- A lot. - Really?

Yeah.

- You haven't changed. - No? Is that good?

Yes, yes, that's good. It's perfect!

Thank you.

I saw your book at Fnac with your picture.

I showed it to Louis and told him you wrote it.

He thought that was really cool.

Who's Louis?

Louis is my new boyfriend.

Actually, my friends are Louis and Camille.

Camille is a bit like you. She's very stylish.

Really.

But there's no way she could be... as stylish as me.

Oh no, but almost.

Almost.

- I wish we were by the sea. - Oh yeah.

Or Mont-Meylan, at Grandpa's. That'd be nice.

Is Grandpa alright?

- He's fine. - We should go see him.

Yes.

It's...

Is that allowed? I mean...

Can you ask his father, Laurent...

if we have the right to go and see my father?

I'll pass on your request.

Are you telling me things?

I've forgotten everything.

Having homosexual relationships cannot be considered

as a sign of mental instability in our time,

and neither can writing books.

We received the report from the psychiatric expert in April,

nine months after the judge's ruling

which gave six months for a decision.

This sentence appears in the introduction or the conclusion, I can't remember which.

The doctor deemed it necessary to specify this

in case there was any doubt, you never know,

in the judges' minds or in Laurent's.

The law is the law.

But around the edges, it seems there's still a problem.

Apparently, at school, in the 6th district of Paris...

some parents said I was "sick".

Do you know if the headmistress received the psychiatrist's report?

I sent it, but got no reply.

No, I have no idea.

If you want, I'll ask her later.

Yes, thank you.

- Hello. - Hello.

Hi, big guy.

Wow, you look sharp today!

Are they new headphones?

From Dad.

Really cool.

I have this.

Am I allowed to give it to him?

Of course, no problem.

Do you want some? I have some seeds.

I don't think I really like them anymore.

Okay...

Are you okay?

I don't think I really know what to say to you today.

No big deal.

It's no big deal at all.

What would we do if we were outside?

We could have an ice cream.

Or going to the movies would be nice.

Or both.

That would be awesome.

You know...

It's normal that all this is strange.

It's very weird.

For me too.

The important thing is that we see each other.

And that we feel.

That you see that I'm here...

and that I've always been here.

Hey, madame!

What's got into you?

I'm in a cheerful mood!

Want some?

Come on, just a little.

- She's pretty, isn't she? - Who?

Amber, the girl with short hair.

Yes, very pretty.

Do you want to join us?

No, not at all.

- No, OK? - No.

So what do I tell her?

Tell who?

Amber!

Well, listen, I don't know, my little walking ray of sunshine.

She's an individual, I think,

with her own aspirations and interests.

We can talk to her.

Okay, I'm going to go write.

And you, you're going to drink some water, okay?

I'll try.

See you tomorrow.

- See you tomorrow, Junior. - Good night, madame.

That's their business, all those who want to believe the story...

that women have a connection with the Moon, with nature, with instinct...

which drives them to stick to the material world

and to renounce their being.

I'm not interested in that.

"Mother" doesn't exist.

"Mother" as a status, as an identity...

as power or powerlessness...

as a position of dominated and dominating...

as victim and as executioner...

...does not exist.

Those things never exist.

There is love...

and it’s something else entirely.

Where are you. I don't see you.

He's at home. He doesn't want to come.

What? How come he doesn't want to come?

Shall we grab a coffee at Place Dauphine?

OK.

OK, I'll go downstairs, I'll wait for you.

Are you still swimming?

This is insane!

This is unbearable.

Do you want to talk about real issues? Do you want to argue?

Why are you always looking for conflict?

This is crazy! You're so violent!

But I've didn't said nothing.

But just...

Do you realise what Paul is going through?

Wait, Paul is doing great! When he doesn't see you, he's perfectly fine.

He gets excellent grades, he has friends, he's thriving,

and as soon as he sees you, it's chaos.

As soon as he sees you, it upsets him. You're driving him crazy.

Yes.

You want responsibilities, but what are you doing?

What are you doing about money?

You don't want to go back to law, I've heard.

So I'm paying for school.

Do you think that it's normal I'm paying for everything?

So yes, I'm thinking of Paul.

All this for what? To get a pension, to live out your dream...

of being a tortured poet, in your rotten apartment?

Isn't that selfish?

And all this, honestly, all this for a load of tripe!

This book that's causing a stir in your new circle...

"bourgeois lesbian from the Right Bank," but...

You're pathetic, Laurent.

I don't recognise you.

It's not fair.

Well...

We'll all end up there anyway.

Did you have anything else to tell me?

So, I'll pay.

Don't you ever miss it?

Miss what?

The high life.

I can't see myself playing tennis, right now, you know.

If you want, we can go for a walk in the park.

And what else?

It must be hard for Laurent, though, with all your affairs.

My affairs?

Well...

Knowing you were with women, in Paris...

and then talking about it in your book.

I could understand why he took it badly.

What?!

Do you understand?

Just a reminder that I, no longer have the right to see my child.

There...!

Comprehend that!

Alright.

Okay, what time is it? She's late.

Who? The nurse?

Yeah.

For my Subutex.

She doesn't trust me to keep it here.

Can you believe that?

It's still good that you're publishing your book.

...modelling clay.

No, it's Blu Tack.

She can... She can't see me.

I was so cute.

TIRAMISU!

It was the first time I'd ever eaten it.

You liked it.

Do you remember the man downstairs from the hotel...

who sold us the T-shirt with the Italian flag?

Yes, I remember.

It was incredibly expensive, but you got it for me anyway.

You liked it so much, I couldn't say no.

And you said: "The good life..."

"or not the good life!"

It's a bit too small, now, but oh well...

I kept it anyway.

Shall we take a picture with my phone?

With your phone?

Dad bought me one for my birthday.

Oh really?

That's great.

We could text each other.

Can I have your number?

Dad has it.

He told me not to give it to anyone.

You should ask him.

Come on...

It's okay.

Wait.

I don't want your stupid Virgin Mojito.

So there's another one?

No.

Yes!

No.

No, and that's it, I'm stopping.

Meeting girls, like that, all the time...

it's too hard.

It's hard for everyone.

And Paul?

Paul...

We meet.

He's sad.

And so am I.

60 departments under orange or red alert.

We're expecting 42 degrees in the south-west.

Authorities are urging utmost caution.

Damn, bad weather for old people.

Are you going swimming this morning?

Is the water cold where you're going?

It's okay.

- Can I come? - No.

Anyway, I didn't want to.

- How's it going? - Really!

- Well, I'll be! - How's it going?

I'm on my fourth.

We're on our second bottle! Are you catching up?

- No, water. - Well, no.

Hey, otherwise, you know, we don't have any...

You have my keys, I think. Yes.

Thanks.

...Yeah, a glass of red wine.

She's not bad, is she?

Huh? She's nice.

We said we'd let it go.

He wants to rent a house in Dunkirk.

Are you staying with us?

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Nothing? Oh... Okay.

And you, then?

I'm fine.

Bye, bye! Have fun!

This is awesome! Shall we go? Shall we all go?

Okay, good night!

Good night, good night. Have a good evening.

Be good, okay?

Good night.

Good evening.

Sweet dreams!

Sleep well!

May I?

Your friends are 15 years old.

Ah, they're mostly very drunk.

Clemence.

Sarah.

Is this your café?

Do you come here often?

I live nearby.

Do you live in the neighbourhood?

Not really...

It depends.

It depends?

It depends.

Do the mystery-line work with women?

Yes.

Yes, not badly. I can't complain.

I'll guess your job, then.

No! You'll never guess.

Oh yes! I swear, I'm really good at this game.

What do I win?

I have three tries, OK?

And if you win...

I'll buy you a drink.

You'll buy me a drink.

And you give me your number.

I'll buy you a drink and I'll take your number.

OK, fine.

You're a DJ.

What?

I don't know... What?

Do I look like a DJ?

With that look of yours... You're not a DJ, are you?

- No! - You're not in a bank, I guess.

No way.

No, hey!

Okay, you have one more try.

Banks didn't count.

Yes, it did count.

- Well, no. - But it did.

You're a PE teacher.

Give me your phone.

You're cheeky, aren't you?

Yes.

Thank you.

And you, you're a journalist.

How do you know?

What do I win?

You've won enough today.

Okay...

Calm down, Lucky Luke.

Call me.

Mum!

Hi.

Hi. I'm in a hurry, because I'm parked really badly.

'Bye, buddy.

Call me if there's anything.

See you tomorrow night, Dad.

Okay.

- Come on, let's run. - Yeah, let's go!

Faster, faster!

What?

We’re gonna be okay, Mum.

Yes.

We'll get through this, my love.

Watch your step.

Well? Are you alright, kid?

It wasn't that long.

Come on. See you in 2 weeks.

We'll go to the seaside.

Want to go to the movies?

Let's go.

See you in two weeks.

Is it getting physical now? Really?

Come...

Take me!

Are you okay?

It's okay.

Is this OK?

I'd better go.

What for?

It's daytime.

You'll turn into a princess if you don't leave now?

That's possible.

I'll take the risk then.

Would you like a coffee?

No, don't touch me... Don't come near me.

I hate any touching.

I don't want to

Come with me if you dare.

Madame Clemence! I didn't know you were here!

Yes.

Your father is a lucky man.

Tell him that.

I'll do that right away.

Dad?

Here we go.

You're always in my dreams.

Before, they were complicated dreams.

Now, they're simpler dreams.

We're doing well.

You are here with me...

And on the other side, there's my life...

Girls who say they want to live with me.

It's amazing how many love-dreams that I'm having these days.

Calm, peaceful dreams...

where there is nothing incompatible between you and me...

and between me and them.

Naturally, these are just dreams.

But in reality...

one could say that you're not really here.

Are you scared?

No.

You're wrong.

I'm formidable.

Well, I'm very robust.

Oh really?

Well let me tell you a legend.

After that...

if you're up to it... we'll swim to the other side.

I'm up to it.

A very, very long time ago,

a dreadful, incredibly wealthy lord lived here.

His castle was right in the centre of this lake.

One New Years Eve at midnight...

an old beggar woman came to his door...

begging for a piece of bread and a little wine to warm herself.

The hideous lord of the castle slammed the door in her face...

mocking her ugliness and her poverty.

And immediately, the entire castle disappeared...

sucked to the bottom of the lake...

brought about by the curse of the beggar woman.

Since then, it is said that in the centre of the lake...

there is a terrible whirlpool...

that swallows anyone who dares to cross it.

Aren't you going to introduce me, darling?

This is Sarah.

My father.

My father, Sarah.

Pleased to meet you, Mr Delcourt.

Thank you for having me in your home.

Aren't you going to die of heat in that?

No, it's fine.

You're breaking my heart, you know.

Yes, I know.

But we're at your father's house.

My father's quite broad-minded.

Will you introduce me to Paul, some day?

Yes.

Maybe.

We'll see.

Are you sure you don't want to get undressed?

Yes, definitely.

OK.

I like being here with you.

Yes.

Do you like the "retired on Subutex" vibe?

Yeah! This is totally my thing!

The degenerate nobility style.

No, but I said: "I like being here with you."

Me too.

I like you.

Can we talk or should we avoid it?

We can talk.

I'm not really into the open-relationship thing...

and all that.

I'm just too old for that.

OK.

Was that just "OK" or...

"OK," agreed?

OK, agreed.

Look.

That's good, isn't it, the green?

Yeah. Does he like green?

I don't know. I think so.

You think so?

Does he know I exist?

Green is good.

Like that, it's not the same as mine, either.

I'll pay.

50 euros, please.

It's the same as yours.

There you go.

Very, very good!

It's so stylish.

Yeah.

I chose it well.

Yeah.

Did you see that?

Yeah.

That's your initials.

I'll be called after you when I grow up.

Are you sure? That name has quite a story.

I want to be called the same as you and my grandfather.

Well, it's up to you.

So, how's your first day back going?

- It's going well. - Yes?

What grade are you in? CM2?

In 7th grade.

Paul is in a private school.

Okay.

Mum?

Why didn't we go to the beach, like you said?

Because Laurent didn’t want me to take you there.

I waited for you.

All summer long, I waited for you.

I know.

I'm fed up with both of you.

Dad's right, you're just selfish.

You'd rather live your life without us, you don't care about leaving us alone.

No, Paul, that's not true.

I do care.

Paul...

Paul, I know you're angry, and you're right.

But just because we've separated, your father and I...

doesn't mean we won't see each other anymore. Okay?

Laurent is very angry with me...

and he doesn't want me to see you anymore.

But he'll get over it.

And in the meantime...

We'll do our best.

Make the most of what we have.

OK?

I know it’s disgusting.

And you and I deserve better.

And it's unfair.

But there's nothing I can do to change that.

I'm sorry.

I want to go out.

Wait, we can continue this discussion...

I want to leave!

Go with him.

Paul!

I want to leave.

Come on, let's talk.

I know what's going on, you know.

I can see it.

- Really? - Well, yes.

- I don't get anything anymore. - Well, I do.

I took over your case this summer.

I re-read everything.

I'll add that to the file.

We'll get there.

Yes, we'll get there.

I'll give you a few minutes.

It's cold.

It's frozen.

It's disgusting.

It's freezing, isn't it?

Is that all?

Touch it with your finger, it's cold.

No, I... I believe you.

Yes, hello, Mme Delcourt,

this is Mme Dureau, from the mediation team.

It's late, but I wanted to check in on you.

I'm sorry that Paul's father cancelled again.

I shouldn't say this, but what he's doing is appalling.

I slipped a letter into your file.

It's not usually done, but...

I'm a little worried about Paul.

I think this is urgent.

I didn't think he was very good last time.

I thought we could perhaps involve...

child protection services.

But you never know how things turn out with them, so...

I'm afraid of a placement decision.

It would take even longer for you to find Paul.

Placement means a file until he turns 18, and so on.

Actually, no, sorry, it's better not to.

There's not much more can be done at the moment.

I'm so sorry.

I'll contact Paul's father again.

I'll keep you posted.

Feel free to call me if you need anything.

I wish you a very good evening.

She says she can't take it anymore.

She says "I have a hard life and so I'm hard."

She says she can't stand the way I am with her, anymore...

when I leave at night, when I disappear for a few days

and then I come back and it's true love.

She can't take any more of this loving followed by emptiness...

She's fed up with the behaviour of my wild child...

She’s fed up with my arrogance, with my stupid remarks...

with swinging from the best to the worst.

She says that she'll leave me some day.

Maybe we're like this because of winter.

Can we go like this?

Well, yes, like this.

Go on, you have two hours. Enjoy them. Off you go!

Wow, it's so beautiful!

Watch out, Grandma!

What do we do next?

I was thinking of going bowling.

Great idea!

Actually, no.

It doesn't work out.

I'm afraid we'd be late.

Sorry.

And the cinema?

Not enough time.

We can have another ice cream.

That's fine with me.

What is it?

You're chic.

I think you're chic.

It's in the Delcourt blood.

Will you show me at your place next time?

Yes, of course.

You'll see, it's nothing special.

Still, I want to see.

OK.

Maybe I could even bring my stuff and leave it there.

Yes.

Whatever you'd like.

Remember how you always wanted to come here...

when you were in preschool?

No, I don't remember.

So?

I didn't know you were coming.

I thought it would do you good.

Is Paul here?

Yes, Laurent is always late.

He prefers not to see us.

Okay...

Shall we go?

I just wanted to see him.

Now you've got me in trouble!

No need to fly off the handle.

It feels very strange for me not to know him.

I don't know what to say.

I think this mediation-centre thing suits you quite well.

You would never have wanted to introduce me to him...

even if you had a normal life.

What?!

Do you realise what you're saying?

What if Laurent sees you, huh?

What is normal life?

This is my life!

I've been fighting to see my child for 2 years!

Paul...

That's my limit.

And if you cross that line, you're out.

Nobody talks to me like that, Clemence. Not even you.

Can you stay until I fall asleep?

OK.

After this, we'll never see each other again.

OK.

- Shall we go, Mum? - Wait, sweetheart.

Sorry.

Excuse me, Miss.

Can you help me?

It's stuck, I can't do it.

It never works...

Which photo?

You'll be able to make a perfect room for little Paul.

Do you think I should paint a wall for him?

Do you know how to paint?

No.

Leave my white walls alone, I beg you.

Put up posters with BluTack.

It'll be just fine, my dear.

OK.

Everything's in place for it to go well.

The next time...

Laurent sends me an email two hours before, to cancel.

And again the time after that.

And also on Saturday at the association

where we were supposed to have the debriefing of the Wednesdays.

The association sends him emails,

he no longer replies.

It's because of the hearing.

They set a date in February.

He asked that Paul be heard.

And I only found out about it afterwards.

To the judge...

Paul said that he didn't want to see me

and that he never missed me.

He kept saying I was crazy.

It was better than last time.

Hi.

- Have I seen you before? - Yes.

- And it's not progressing? - No, otherwise I wouldn't be here.

I believe you.

I shouldn't tell you this...

but you seem like a decent person.

Someone I can talk to, I mean.

I'm not going to change anything.

At some point, it's too late.

Children grow up, and time can't be turned back.

And that...

...the higher-ups don't see that.

Childhood passes quickly.

So...

Tell me.

Well...

At 11.10am...

I arrived at my ex-husband Laurent Leveque's house.

I should point out that 3 months ago, I won the lawsuit...

and since then, I'm supposed to have custody of my son...

every other weekend and half of the holidays...

which since then, has never been respected by my ex-husband.

So, at 11.10, I arrive at the apartment.

And there's Gontran Ducourt...

a friend, his lawyer, who opened the door for me.

In the living room, there were two other friends...

Isaac Hofmann and Guillaume Bloy.

Laurent specified that in this way,

I couldn't invent things since there were witnesses.

I asked to go see my son.

I walked down the hallway to his room.

My son was lying under his blanket...

like last time.

Laurent was there too.

And my son didn't answer my questions.

He wasn't moving.

I sat down on the edge of his bed.

I asked Laurent for help.

To which he replied:

"I don't have to force Paul if he doesn't want to see you."

He said it loudly so that the others could hear.

I told him that he wasn't respecting my rights...

and that he wasn't helping Paul either...

and that I was going to file a police report.

I left my son's room.

In the living room, Laurent said...

"You'll end up getting tired of all this."

OK. Anything to add?

Yes.

That this is the 8th time that I've filed a police report.

I think... this is the last one.

It was on my bike, last night, that I understood.

I was going back to Belleville, I was crossing Paris.

I understood my grief was over.

Not sadness from time to time, of course...

But the grief that consumes everything, yes.

I thought that I'd grieved for my son.

I told myself... "That's it, I've grieved."

I felt good.

It had been years since I'd felt this good.

It came on suddenly,

like when you wake up, realising you've got over the flu.

Thinking about it, it had been months since I'd last dreamed about him.

I almost called the lawyer to tell him that I didn't want anything anymore.

Not even weekends or holidays.

Then I thought that it wasn't even worth it...

since, in any case, it wasn't working.

There was nothing more to say, nothing more to do.

We hardly see each other anymore.

We don't know what to say.

We're becoming strangers.

Everything is fading.

Everything of my life with him is fading.

Or rather, they are here somewhere but they don't suffocate me anymore.

I can see other children, without thinking of him.

I can think they are cute...

and it's not sad.

It doesn't stab me anymore.

Soon, he'll be old enough to decide not to see me anymore.

I'll accept that.

Or maybe he'll want to come back to my place.

You never can tell, with teenagers.

Subtitles by FatPlank for KG.