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FREELY ADAPTED FROM THE NOVEL BY NINA BERBEROVA

WINTER 42-43. VEGETABLES ARE RATIONED. THERE'S NO MEAT.

DEATH RATES ARE UP BY 69%. 17 ATTACKS BY THE RESISTANCE IN 15 DAYS.

Life moves on the side.

As if it were outside you.

It rubs and moves others

without touching you.

Last week it was 28 degrees F.

The boiler froze. I didn't want to perform, no way.

Nothing to do.

You've reserved my usual table, right?

Yes, Irène has just finished, she'll arrive in half an hour,

an hour, tops. Yes, that's right.

Did you receive the Marennes? Well yes, the Marennes!

The oysters, I mean. You know very well she's mad for them.

Miss! What are you looking for?

My name is Sophie Vasseur. I've got an appointment with Irène Brice.

-Are you the accompanist? -Yes.

Someone will take you. Dressing room One.

Thank you.

Yes, excuse me. So…

To your right, Miss. Dressing room One.

-For dessert, we could maybe… -Sorry.

Come in.

Vasseur. Sophie Vasseur.

Vasseur, Vasseur…

-Should I know who you are? -I don't know.

My mom gives piano lessons. Hélène Vasseur's lessons at rue Damrémont.

-Sorry, I've never heard of it. -It doesn't matter.

Right… Where did I put my other shoe?

I'll be starting a "single shoe" trend.

I don't know your mom's school.

But it doesn't matter.

I'm interested in you.

I hope you are meticulous.

-I'm not afraid of working. -Good.

Four hours of practice a day, minimum.

If needs be, will you be available to travel?

Travel?

-Of course. -We also have plans to tour.

Maybe even abroad and I want it to be a success.

I'm starting to make a name for myself in Paris but I aim for more.

I'm warning you, I'm an ambitious bitch.

-Miss what? Sorry. -Sophie.

Like Sophie's Misfortunes…

Right, Sophie,

since you're a meticulous young girl

you can have three macaroons. Several, if you wish.

No, thank you.

I know. I'm lucky.

I'm surrounded by people who strive to make me forget…

What are they called again? The pain, privations, is that it?

Who did you study under?

At first with my mom, then at the music academy.

-In Dréville's class. -Dréville, perfect.

-Sorry. I… -What's wrong?

I don't feel very well.

Tell me…

What happened?

Maybe a touch of tiredness.

The heat… the emotion.

I think the main thing is her dying of hunger, right.

Shall we take you to dinner?

…he really wants to meet her.

-Thank you. -That's why I'm here.

She's got such power, such intensity…

She's very exact with her yesses and nos.

It's nothing ever in between.

A cigarette, Miss?

No thanks, I don't smoke.

Come on. Just this once won't harm.

Try it.

-There. -Thanks.

Here, darling.

She adores salmon.

Oh, that's very tasty… Very tasty.

So, Sophie? You seem better now, right?

Did you meet anyone useful? It's now or never.

-Thanks Irène, bye. -Goodbye.

Drop by Galien's place tomorrow and ask him for The Eight by Berlioz.

Tell him it's for me. Practice them, then you can audition for me.

Does 4 p.m. on Wednesday suit you? At 7 rue d'Aguesseau.

Wednesday, 4 p.m., 7 rue d'Aguesseau.

Now you must go home. You must be exhausted.

I've ordered a car for you,

to spare your heavy boots.

That's for the fare.

-Thank you, ma'am. -No, no.

No "thank yous", no "ma'ams".

You will call me Irène, if you want us to become friends.

THE ROYAL

-Is the car for you? -No thank you.

Shit, what's up in there?

Are they having a laugh?

Are there no cookies?

Were you talking to me?

Yes. Are there no cookies left?

Check in my box.

No, those are yours.

There's only one, I can't eat your last one.

Yes, Sophie, take it.

It's her fourth since lunch.

Not bad, Jérôme. Carry on.

-You could have gone to the hairdressers. -Too dear.

G, G, G, G. Come on, Jérôme! Make it rounder.

I'm hungry. Eat your hand. And keep the other for tomorrow.

Papa lives a long way away, married to someone else.

Since before I was born,

he's had another life and real kids somewhere in the provinces.

Good.

Very sensitive.

Too sensitive.

Based on Berlioz's favored order,

the ghost comes to the lagoon later.

The loved one is dead,

so I try to highlight the pain.

It's like a form of resignation.

-Well, I don't know. -Is that what they taught you?

No, no, it was me.

Do you know what?

I'll hire you.

Yes, I'll hire you and not just as an accompanist

but maybe also as an artistic advisor.

Why not?

-How old are you? -20.

That's young.

-It scares me. -Why?

If I hire you your life will be just work, won't it?

Rehearsals…

Work, work, work… As a 20-year-old,

you might get bored.

You might not always be available.

Yes, I will.

I need you to be fully available.

Yes, I am jealous. Very jealous.

I am exclusive. I like people to take care of me, of me only.

Do you have friends in your life?

I don't know… A young man?

-Have I shocked you? -No, no.

No relationships?

I'm not very sociable, you know.

That's good.

You can't dupe me, Sophie. Not at all.

You act as though you are sweet, submissive.

You make out you are a little lamb, lost in the jungle.

But I don't think you're that sweet or submissive.

On the contrary.

I can see in your eyes that you can be very harsh.

I don't dislike it.

I know that look.

I see it in my mirror every morning.

Juliette?

Yes?

Ah, hello sir.

Yes, yes, Madame is here.

-It's Mr. Ceniat. -I'm working, practicing.

She's rehearsing and can't be disturbed.

Play, anything.

No Mr. Jacques…

I'm sorry but it's impossible, as you know.

Call back later.

Madame was quite clear…

He says he's coming.

Excuse me, just a moment.

Don't worry Juliette, I'll sort it out.

I always have to call you from the restaurant downstairs nowadays.

The maid always answers. It's becoming humiliating.

There's nothing to be humiliated about, and I don't want you to feel that way.

Is it that difficult to talk to me on the phone?

You're funny. I've got work.

My rehearsals. My accompanist.

My cat who scared you.

In short, we never talk.

Not here, not now.

So let's go out. I've planned it all, a car is waiting outside.

-A German one? -Yes, and I fought to get it.

Impressive. I would feel as if you were arresting me

if we were to go for a ride in a German car.

Listen, it's almost 5 p.m.

My husband will be back soon.

Let him come.

I've come up with 5,000 reasons to be here.

Jacques…

Work on Mozart for Thursday.

Do you know the "Sanctus"?

Yes, I know it.

In that case, not only do you know how to play it,

but you can listen too, and know it all

off by heart, right?

There he is.

-Good evening, beautiful. -Good evening.

How is my angel today?

Good. Good!

Especially since meeting this young person.

Sophie Vasseur, the person I'll now be working with.

Is she the young accompanist?

The one who faints as soon as you give her macaroons?

These very same ones. Seriously.

That bastard Dupi is rationing them.

He says he's keeping them for the marshal.

-Did you see him? -Yes, I saw yesterday.

It was a partridge hunt with the Chief of Staff.

We didn't kill anything!

No chance. Too much sky, not enough birds.

The marshal was tired and I was too. Too many cocktails, too many receptions.

Too much everything. We were hung over!

I always feel like a bag of Champagne when I return from Vichy.

That's not even mentioning business.

Talking to those people is getting ever harder.

Anyway, what else could one possibly do?

Do you know what? No one cares, no one is concerned.

They are called small and unregulated markets.

If you're looking for a light, there's a lighter here. Excuse me, Sophie.

Oh look, Jacques left his gloves.

-Oh really, Jacques was here? -Just a moment ago.

You could have passed him on the stairs.

Believe it or not, he wanted to take me for a ride.

He was insisting and insisting, so I said, "And what about,

your friend, my husband, Mr. Brice?"

You were wrong. You should have accepted.

The snowy woods are magical.

He'd have taken you to the waterfall, since he loves clichés so much.

What's wrong with you? You've turned red. Are you warm?

You're intimidating her.

That's what I like to hear.

Give me Jacques's gloves. I'll give them back to him…

during a board of directors meeting, say.

You'll see, he'll turn redder than you.

OUT OF ORDER

Sophie! Sophie, wait.

I've got a favor to ask.

Could you mail this?

No problem.

Don't put it in the mailbox downstairs, they never empty it.

There's a post office on the boulevard. Outside the metro.

MR. JACQUES FABERT 26 SQUARE DE CLIGNANCOURT, PARIS

Thank you!

The square is right by my house.

If you want I can drop it off at the address?

Won't that delay you?

Thanks. You can give it to the janitor.

Goodbye Sophie. See you tomorrow.

Goodbye, see you tomorrow.

MR. JACQUES FABERT 26 SQUARE DE CLIGNANCOURT, PARIS

CLIGNANCOURT SQUARE

-How can I help? -I'm here to see Mr. Jacques Fabert.

Why?

I've got a letter for him.

Give it here.

I was meant to hand it over to Mr. Jacques Fabert.

I'm Jacques Fabert, don't worry.

Thanks.

I just pulled a horrible face, didn't I?

Just now. Don't just look at the keyboard.

You need to tell me about my expression, everything. Especially so if I pull faces.

Being an opera singer is very strange.

A woman arrives on stage

and opens her mouth wide, like an oven,

if it's too natural it's ugly, if it's too rehearsed it's silly.

Anyway. Let's do it again.

You know the piece off by heart.

Take your eyes off the score

-and look at me from time to time. -That's enought now!

Enough!

Go ahead. Call me a profiteer, a bastard,

but stop beating about the bush!

You're virtuous, heroic!

Enjoy purity and perfection!

I have no scruples, so leave me be.

Good God, look around you. Do you find our world scrupulous?

I like to live comfortably and well, it's true.

But no one can reproach for having made my fortune off the Germans' backs!

I was rich before the war, and I decided to stay so!

The Krauts shouldn't have been allowed in.

You're losing all your friends.

-I'll find new ones! -Yes, ones which arrest, shoot, torture…

Goodbye Brice.

Bye Fabert, say hello to London!

That guy annoys me all the more because he's right, Irène.

I'm just a tradesman.

If one has to choose one's clients I might as well shut up shop.

Play. Come on, play.

The one I like from The Marriage.

It'll distract me.

The concert is in three weeks. I waste two hours a day in the metro.

Irène suggested it. I accepted.

Why would I refuse?

I'll have my own room, I'll be on site.

It'll be less tiring for me and handier for her.

We'll have 400 francs a week. I won't ever have earned this much.

I didn't mean money. Why are you talking to me about money?

You always seem to have scores to settle.

With what, with whom, that's a mystery…

With everything. An ugly, drab life.

One doesn't settle scores in life.

That's only in books, Sophie.

We toe the line.

Apparently the Brices are collaborators.

-I honestly don't care. -Those Brices of yours…

It's warm there. I can eat as much as I want there.

Life tastes good.

As she gives you her old cast-offs?

Says the person who knows nothing about gifts.

You can talk.

I've never met anyone like her.

I mean anyone as good as her.

I want to become indispensable to her. Irreplaceable!

A girl ready to do anything. Because she was asked to deliver a letter.

To be a domestic.

Forgot it!

It's a secret. She entrusted me with it and no one else.

Secrets are luxury.

I like that.

She trusted me.

It's the first time someone's trusted me.

Dream, my daughter, dream…

Go for it. Dreaming is free.

BAKERY PASTRY STORE

Tell me if I'm hurting you.

No, no, it's fine.

Oh dear!

A schoolgirl dressed in her Sunday best to please her cousin.

Meanwhile, the hair…

We need to do something about that.

Now, bow.

No, no. Not just your head, your entire body.

Good.

Your arms hanging like that… are all wrong.

Put your hands like this. Look at me. One on your chest.

The other held slightly back, on the side. Like this, you see.

Yes.

There. It's the first evening.

The first concert.

She's no longer looking at you. She sings.

The glory is hers. Happiness for her.

She is the sky. She is joy,

the adorable smile of angels.

And you are the accompanist.

This is her concert, not yours.

Forgive me! I know you…

But of course, you are the accompanist! I hadn't recognized you.

Well done. You're very good. Highly skilled.

What's your name? I can't remember.

-It doesn't matter. -Brice! I need to tell you…

Your wife is a miracle…

My little girl! I'm so happy, my little girl.

All my dreams for you have come true.

You had dreams?

Irène was incredible. Triumphant.

I am shaken. Such happiness.

It's your first success, my girl, do you realize? Your first success.

Could I go congratulate her?

-Of course. -I'll go.

How are you, Girardeau? He's our butcher, he never misses a concert.

Mr. Brice, you ask and I come. Not to would be bad form.

How nice, a music-loving butcher. Let me smell those beautiful flowers.

Come in!

Come in! Go on.

Irène will appreciate it…

Everything is ready for the reception.

Come. I need to introduce you.

-Do you think it's necessary? -Yes.

Very useful…

Charles Brice, this is our friend Heller from the Propagandastaffel.

He venerates French culture.

You are right to do so, it is venerable. Pleased to meet you.

I'm very honored, sir.

My friends and I have organized a small dinner at the embassy

in honor of your wife.

That is not really where I want to celebrate Irène's success.

As you please, but I fear it won't please Mr. Abetz.

And he might complain to Mr. Laval?

You'll greet them both from me. Warmly.

-What's got into you? Are you drunk? -A bit, not very.

They are annoying. They think they can do anything.

Forget it. Serve the wine.

You can't keep moving between black and white.

You'll run into the worst trouble.

Why don't you choose your camp for once?

Do you mean your camp? With Bruneau and Doriot?

Those crooks who pretend to be patriots?

It's just being like Pétain.

That Marshal of yours is going senile.

His days are numbered. Do you know what the Nazis call him?

"An old ass". One day they'll abandon him and his brood.

There won't be a Brice, nor a Ceniat. There won't be any business, nothing.

There won't even be a French state. Only the Reich will remain.

-We'll end up like Paddington. -Paddington?

Do you not know the story of the explorer Paddington?

One day, Paddington crosses Antarctica.

The ice pack, the large white desert.

Suddenly they find themselves in a terrible snow storm, a blizzard.

Things aren't going well so he takes cover in an igloo.

-An igloo? -Yes, an igloo.

He stays there a night, two nights, I don't know… a week… a long time.

And then he notices something.

The walls are slowly closing in on him.

Because of the cold,

his breath is freezing on the igloo walls.

With each exhalation they get thicker, so…

the igloo is growing smaller.

Smaller, smaller, smaller.

He soon realizes that there's no room for his own body.

Do you understand?

His efforts to live and breathe led to him creating his own coffin.

-And then what happened? -He abandoned his igloo.

-That's what happened! -When is it planned?

I don't know yet.

Have you spoken to Irène about it?

They've been requesting a recital at Vichy for months.

It's important for her career.

I'm telling you this as a friend.

As my friend or hers? You know, Jacques,

those are not quite the same things.

Good night.

Good night, Sylvie.

No.

No. I can't speak to you for long.

Yes, of course.

When were you back from London?

I would have loved for you to be at the concert.

Pardon? Not bad at all.

Aside from Brahms.

Tomorrow?

Yes, tomorrow. I'll find a way.

Why do you care that she has a lover?

Or two?

Who loves you?

Who do you exist in this world for?

Sophie? Are you asleep?

Thanks for this evening.

Thanks for the concert. Thanks for everything.

It's the last one.

I was keeping it for a special occasion.

We were both incredible this evening.

Aside from Brahms.

That's true.

But that was the best we could do with that damned Brahms, right?

I love you more and more.

I hate you more and more.

You are so free, so sure of yourself.

The way you treat me and my future

is an indisputable right, is that it?

Come from above?

Forever?

Mom!

Mom!

-Minister, a word for Le Petit Parisien. -And Le Martin.

I'm used to the Paris-Vichy return trip,

but I'm particularly thrilled this time.

A beautiful artist is joining us today.

Thank you!

Opera and politics make

-Yes. -…a fortuitous and happy marriage.

I'm not leaving for America, Mom. Vichy isn't the other side of the world.

VICHY NATIONAL FRENCH RAILWAY SYSTEM

Sophie! You're going to miss the train. Get in.

I must go.

A melody composed by Godot Junior. He adores Irène.

It's dedicated to her.

Godot Junior should sleep with her. It would speed things up.

Apply yourself, my dear.

The train for Nevers,

Moulins and Vichy is about to depart.

Please board the train.

Please board the train immediately.

Oh my, such drama. Careful Jacques, you'll fall under the train.

France needs you, old boy.

You're taking part in history. Don't forget.

Nevers, Moulins, Vichy.

All aboard. The train is about to leave.

You drink too much.

Everyone drinks too much.

Careful, Miss.

Who will lower their eyelids first?

I bet you will.

What is this pretty little minx?

I didn't see anything, did you?

What could I say to you that starts with "Do You"?

I know.

Do you want to kiss me?

If you do that I will fall in love with you.

That's enough.

You. Leave Sophie alone. That's an order.

We'll meet again in Vichy. I'll teach you how to kiss.

It doesn't matter if you don't know. I'll teach you.

RECITAL: IRENE BRICE WITH SOPHIE BRICE ON THE PIANO

TONIGHT 8 P.M.

Find me the bosses.

The bedroom phone doesn't work.

Yes?

How will I charter five transport wagons in a week, Vanier?

For a start, who will pay for it?

Yes, I want to talk cash!

So the Krauts are not involved in it?

Good news, Vanier!

What's this? "From the Marshal's secretarial office."

Too bad that I don't like orchids.

Here, a gift.

Sophie? Do you know the latest joke?

A Pétain is always followed by a cretin.

Okay, wait, let me recap.

It's so peaceful here,

beyond wars and nations.

A magician has got rid of the borders.

Your wife did that.

That accent is charming.

I hope Irène doesn't have a certain background…

No, Minister. Irène is Russian, born in Kyiv.

That's good.

But why on earth come sing at Vichy?

It was suggested to me.

A requisition of sorts?

I fear it's just the start.

Soon it'll be carefully chosen pieces. A specific date and no other.

Then we'll have to agree to a season. In Nuremberg or Munich.

Then an appointment at the Berlin philharmonic.

Charles, give me one of your cigars.

It will remind me of your father.

It's a habit I got from him.

That and salience. I heard about your impertinence in Paris.

You aren't being prudent, Brice.

What was lost through weapons can be recaptured with smiles and wit.

Be wary nonetheless. One day, smiles and wit

-might come back to bite you. -I won't be there that day.

That's why I wanted to speak to you.

-It's a strange place for a conversation. -I wanted it to be private.

-Is it that serious? -Maybe.

I'm fooling them. I'm handling urgent business but I've made my decision.

Vichy is suffocating me. I'm ashamed of Paris. I'm giving it all up.

You're letting me in on a very awkward secret.

My father trusted you.

Since we are sharing secrets, if I were you I would do the same too.

At my age,

I have to persuade myself every morning that I have a duty here.

Who do you want to join? And where?

Not London?

-Not De Gaulle, surely? -Why not?

As adventurers we might get along.

No, London is too dangerous, you've courted us too much.

Consider Algiers.

I can help you there.

Was it Vichy?

Was it the Germans?

Who was it?

Was it rue Lauriston?

-Was it you, maybe? -I have nothing to do with this, Charles.

I even tried to intervene.

-Oh really. -I swear. On Irène's life.

Leave her out of it. It's becoming bad taste.

Explain to me what this mess is.

It's a warning… An intimidation tactic.

-I had warned you, old friend. -Don't call me your old friend!

And tell them they succeeded! I feel very intimidated!

Jacques…

Take your hat off.

Thanks. Do you keep your hat in my house, now?

It makes you look like a cop.

Our friend Ceniat is a cop.

He's got one last thing to say to her.

Let's let them talk.

This isn't the moment to be doing housework, my dear.

You were promised travel… You'll get more than you bargained for!

But I warn you, it might be dangerous.

Since you're not married to us, you have a choice.

What choice?

Already? Once the gentleman has left, you will open the window.

I wasn't here.

You didn't see me, I didn't see you.

You still have hope. Do you realize that?

Vaguely.

Five years of a charming friendship. A joyful man.

And not stupid.

He's lost himself.

Gloom.

As for us, we had better get moving.

There's nothing for me in Algiers. I won't go.

I'm not coming, Charles.

Who said Algiers?

London?

We are going to sing in London, Sophie.

And it won't be fun.

Crossing France, the Pyrenees, Spain.

Finding a boat in Portugal.

I like to look at you.

That was quick.

We never had much to say to one another.

Let's go.

CLIGNANCOURT SQUARE

LIST OF TENANTS FABERT, JACQUES

TOBACCONIST

PORTUGAL: LISBON

Forgive me! Scusi.

Scusi is Italian. In Spanish they say perdone.

And in Portuguese, I think they say desculpe.

I didn't expect that taste.

Yeah. It's like the ocean. I didn't expect it to be that color.

I thought it would be green. Because of "Baisse un peu l'abat-jour."

-"Baisse un peu l'abat-jour"? -The song by Lucienne Brié.

"The sky is blue, the sea is green, leave the window open a bit".

I'm from La Varenne Saint-Hilaire. And you?

-I'm from La Motte-Picquet-Grenelle. -Oh wow. Such luxury.

You don't seem bourgeois though.

-No, I'm employed. -That's good.

I was studying law in Paris, then I left. Destination: De Gaulle.

Long live the FFF.

-Long live the FFF. -You too.

Do you not know what the FFF is either? The Free French Forces.

My name is Benoît. Benoît Weizman.

Sophie Vasseur.

Pleased to meet you, Sophie Vasseur.

-I bet you live at the port hotel. -Yes.

-Me too. Are you here for long? -No, I leave tomorrow.

The tuna boat for Liverpool, over there? I'm getting it too.

We'll travel together. Isn't that great?

Are we going to accept that it all stays the same, Mr. Brice?

Still? That nothing will ever change?

I'm a man of action, I need things to move.

Move, move. You amuse me, Weizman.

No matter where one goes one always sees one's sorry head in the mirror.

That's not the issue. You're asking the wrong questions.

I'm talking of the poor, of the starving.

Will they put up with this for long?

Are you a communist, Benoît?

-Do you think so? -A communist and a jew,

you're off to a bad start.

-Thanks. -You're welcome. I'm happy to.

All night I waited for a sign from you.

So what? I'm cheeky this morning.

It's the war, you know. There's no time to lose.

Irène?

Irène, your shawl!

Why are you staring, Sophie?

Were we not meant to meet at half past?

We're the only ones on the boat, we won't get lost.

You're not in love with me at all, are you?

This is crazy, he is going to attack us.

Lay down on the ground, lay down.

Irène!

Don't get up.

Irène!

Irène, lie down! Lie down!

Zé, are you okay? Are you hurt?

-You're amazing, you weren't scared. -I didn't have time to be.

You're tough, aren't you?

It's over.

Dear God, you really do want to piss us off?

Your arm!

What's wrong with your arm?

I think I got hit.

I could screw you right now.

It would be easy.

Three kisses in the fishing nets and hey presto.

That would be gymnastics, not love.

I don't want anything provisional. I want real feelings.

The absolute. Do you know what the absolute is?

I think the word is in the dictionary.

Are you mad?

A bit. I don't know.

You always seem distrustful.

Well yeah, it's true.

I'm wary.

Sorry, but everything you just said… On love and all that.

I feel like I'm stupid and that I don't understand anything.

I'm sorry.

I just want us to be together, that's all I meant.

Truly together, for life.

It's simple.

I don't know what being together is.

I've never been together with anyone.

I'm going, forgive me.

What now?

What exactly are you to her?

-Are you her pianist or her maid? -Both.

Is your goal to be doing her laundry, shining her shoes and making her bed?

I was never asked to do it but I believe I would be capable.

Good night.

You've changed during the crossing.

Your mind is elsewhere.

I can see it in your eyes.

That boy over there.

A freak, a joker.

He's fun for five minutes but I think you're worth more.

Look at me.

Do you love him?

He wants to marry me.

It's a bit fast but I'm not against it.

You're not against it.

Yeah.

I'm not against the idea.

That boy… What is he?

When war is over, do you know what he'll become?

A good postal worker.

Nothing more.

I don't understand what you're trying to tell me.

What I'm saying is…

Passion,

feelings, everything we call love…

Is not for people like me, is that it?

It's not my style?

Obviously.

It's true that compared to yours my love affairs are ridiculous.

How's it going with the little Sophie?

You seem very unhappy.

-Is it that obvious? -It's the impression I got, yes.

I'm happy that you've brought it up.

I was planning on asking for her hand in marriage.

I'm not her father.

In fact I don't think she has a father.

You'll have to ask her mom, when you go back to Paris.

You don't have a choice there.

First you'll need to win the war and then return as a hero.

Otherwise…

Get out of here. Where is the commanding officer?

There's something I wanted to ask you.

But I'm struggling to do it. You'll have to guess.

Sophie, Benoît!

Kiss and say goodbye to another, for goodness sake!

You'll meet again in London!

Hurry up, they are waiting.

Listen, it's simple and definitive.

You just need to reply with a yes or no.

Is it a yes?

No.

It's a no.

Bye, in that case.

Bye.

The adventure is over. The trio is reassembled.

My role is defined.

There must be no one aside from Irène Brice in your life.

I must only look at her. Listen to her.

Spy on her.

Wait. Hope.

Accompanist and maid.

You're back on track.

Those who want vegetable soup, please come over here.

I'll get you some tea later.

We need to check the information we have

on the individuals with you, Mr. Brice.

From there we can estimate

the level of their sincerity…

Of their patriotism?

Right.

A foreigner who lands on British soil

is a bit suspicious to us, sir.

Especially if they are French.

Even more so when they have a background like yours.

Do you find me a bit shocking. Is that it?

In some ways.

Three concerts organized by the Propagandastaffel

with Irène Brice headlining.

A concert for the Wehrmacht

with Irène Brice headlining.

A month later a concert at Vichy…

I don't believe a person to be in the wrong when they are working.

My relations with the occupier were commercial, Sir.

Solely commercial.

I was a business broker. I made money.

A lot of it.

Is that bad?

In times of war, money can be dirty, Mr. Businessman.

Sophie Vasseur?

There are no charges against you, Miss. You can leave.

And Mr. and Mrs. Brice? I'm with them.

Where is she?

We're taking you and your husband

to our counterespionage services in London.

May I make a phone call?

London.

Yes.

Ask for Jacques Fabert.

Don't go away!

Mr. Brice?

So, Sophie?

You thought they would shoot us right away, didn't you?

Let's go, troops. Apparently we are free.

We're under house arrest in London, but it's better than nothing.

Apparently a good Samaritan will be watching over us.

We've hired an apartment close to Waterloo Bridge.

Charles spends whole afternoons in restaurants, banks, luxury hotels

meeting old acquaintances again.

He thinks that if Irène starts performing again it will help with his business.

He therefore found a piano very quickly.

I'm sorry, I speak no English.

I just want to know if Mrs. Irène Brice does indeed live here.

Yes, she lives here but…

She's not in?

That's right. She's gone out.

Will she be back soon?

I don't know. She didn't say.

I doubt she'll be back before evening.

And Mr. Brice?

He's not in either.

Here's my telephone number.

I'd like you to give it to Mrs. Brice.

To her only.

Tell her Jacques is back in London.

Very well. I won't forget.

Thanks. Goodbye Miss.

Goodbye Sir.

Become indispensable.

Irreplaceable.

Willing to do anything, to have a role in this story.

Look.

Your eyes are those of a person planning to burn the house down.

Where do you want to start a fire, Sophie?

You're talking to yourself. What are you doing alone in the dark?

Are you being punished?

The piano has arrived, marvelous.

I say, isn't it great?

-Is Charles back? -No.

You know what? He pretends to be busy

but I suspect he's spending his afternoons at the races.

Yes, I assure you. He's a gambler.

While I remember,

could you iron my greige outfit?

It's a real rag.

Our agent got us an audition with a certain Wolfe…

An important guy at the BBC. He's preparing a show on French music.

We'll go over Berlioz, Poulenc and Fauré again. All our favorites.

London rain.

I wasn't able to find a taxi.

I must look like a drowned rat.

Someone came this afternoon.

He asked you to call him on this number.

Mayfair 36 34.

-It's most likely for Charles. -No, it was for you.

He said, "Tell Irène that Jacques is in London."

He recommended that I only tell you.

Good evening girls, it's freezing cold here.

There it is! About time!

So Doctor, how is the piano?

My voice must have stayed on the boat or in a ravine in the Pyrenees.

Oh no, you don't just lose a voice. Singing is not about the voice,

it's about the breath. You said so yourself.

Sophie, no one asked for me? No one came?

No, no one, sir.

The audition is tomorrow. And it's at the BBC.

The BBC? Terrific. That's great news.

We'll see if you've lost your voice.

-Is that a French newspaper? -Ah, French, French…

It's better than nothing.

There's a nice article by Ceniat which talks about me at great length!

I'm a traitor, a wheeler dealer…

I've sold out to international Jewry!

Ceniat was not my friend, Charles.

Well I don't know if it was Jews I dealt with today,

in fact I don't care, but I think I got the winning prize.

Have you heard of parachute fabric? Parachute fabric!

It's lucrative. That's all I will say.

The iron, Sophie.

I asked you to do it.

I need that greige outfit.

Thanks, Sophie.

Irène? Your tea.

Irène?

You know,

it's possible to find an address using a telephone number.

It's absolutely possible.

You just need to look in the phone book.

-The letter F. -What letter F?

Oh no, I'm stupid.

He won't be in there, as he's French.

Who is French, Sophie?

I have only Charles and music in my life.

Charles and music.

You understand, don't you?

-And me? -You?

You are my accompanist.

My young friend.

So equal, my dear angel. Calm. Without a cloud.

Was it you who cried yesterday?

They say you have a lovely voice and are also lovely to behold.

It would be a shame for London audiences to miss out.

If you agree, they want to organize a concert.

Of course I agree.

-I will go tell them the good news. -Thank you.

-So? -We impressed the gents, Sophie.

I say…

I'm going to leave you here. You can go home alone.

I want to get the clasp on my document holder fixed.

There's a store in the gallery. I'll be back around 6 p.m.

We'll chat later.

There are taxis just opposite.

Bravo! Long live France!

-Long live free France! -Bravo!

Long live De Gaulle!

Yes!

Long live France!

Bravo!

Long live Free France!

-Bravo! -Bravo!

Yes, bravo!

Have you heard?

In Paris Arletty is sleeping with a German officer.

Is she in love with him?

-Arletty? -If she's in love, no problem.

Arletty is France. She's occupied.

And you? Were you ever in love, Sylvie?

Sophie.

Don't get your back up, Sylvie.

And reply nicely.

Were you ever in love with anyone?

Yes, one day. A young man in a train.

Our friends were starting to protest.

I'm sorry, it was Wolfe. He was going over the concert on the phone.

Did he speak to you about the United States?

-The United States? -He's obsessed.

Charles, did you know he really wants to organize a tour there for Irène?

It's the first I've heard. And what does Irène think?

Oh dear. America is a very long way.

Chicago, Washington, Boston, New York.

Too far. Too far…

I think Irène wants to stay in London.

London is unbearable.

You're right. These cigarettes are vile and my wife is uncompromising.

Why refuse? You've always dreamt of the USA, you would always talk of it.

I just don't feel ready.

-My voice and my repertoire are not ready. -You're joking?

You sung the house down. I never saw such success.

It was the circumstances.

It was because we are French.

Charles, let me manage my career as I wish, please.

You know it's not about your career.

I hate the role you are making me play.

Irène?

No. It's Sophie.

Oh, you can't sleep either?

I was thirsty.

And with the planes…

In France the Germans prevented us from eating, here it's from sleeping.

Is that it?

I didn't want to wake Irène.

So I got comfy here.

I don't know why I'm telling you this, you don't care.

Could you fetch the aspirin in my desk?

PILLS

3 p.m. already! I need to go.

I forgot to tell you.

I've got a meeting with Wolfe.

He really wants to hear me sing Massenet.

-Without me? -Forgive him. He thinks you're perfect

but he likes to think he's a Bernstein. He loves playing piano. Badly, I admit.

That Wolfe annoys me.

-Irène? The Massenet score. -Yes?

Yes, thanks. I'm lost today.

I'll be here by 6 p.m. 6:30 p.m. at the latest.

See you tonight.

Mr. Jacques Fabert?

Who is speaking?

Is Mr. Fabert there, please?

No he isn't, but I can take a message. Who should I say it's from?

Irène?

Irène? Sophie?

Tell him everything. "Irène is lying to you."

She sees her lover every day.

He's called Jacques Fabert.

You know him well.

You were here?

Did you not hear me?

-You are back early. -Yes.

No rehearsal today?

No. Irène left around 3 p.m.

Did I scare you?

She said she wouldn't be back late.

Good, good.

I left a paper in my desk. That's why I came back.

No need to tell Irène that I came back.

It's not important.

Once a week she finds an excuse to go out before 3 p.m.

Sometimes she gives you the afternoon off.

You know where she goes.

It was easy to get there before her.

I can't stand it.

I can't stand myself.

I can't stand it when you cry.

Why are you crying?

I can see he's humiliated. I can see he's unhappy.

We're unhappy too.

For months, for years.

In restaurants, in bars, always.

Always hiding. Always in secret.

Will it always be like this?

Will we never really be together?

I fight with myself for every hour spent with you.

I want to be able to look myself in the mirror.

I hate these compromises.

Every time I made a concession it made me sick and I paid dearly for it.

I'm sick of lying to him.

I've had enough of seeing him suffer. It's as though I were going to kill him.

No.

It'll be me who kills him.

Shut up.

PROGRAM

Did you find what you were looking for, Sophie?

In my desk.

Sophie, I apologize for the strange question

but please try to answer it.

Is it that difficult to be a woman?

Yes, I believe so.

I believe it's difficult.

-All women complain about it. -All women complain about it.

The terrible thing is that it's impossible to be a man.

No one succeeds.

I have some business out of town.

I leave tomorrow. Not for long, just two or three days.

Take good care of Irène.

Okay?

She's everything I have.

Charles is leaving us in the morning.

Irène sent me to get sheet music on the other side of town.

I want to be back before 3 p.m.

You shouldn't be here. There's nothing more to learn.

But you want to see them.

Sorry, I don't understand.

I'm sorry, I don't speak English.

Mom is ill. She wants you back in Paris.

Irène encouraged you to go back. It's a pretext.

Please, make way!

She's going to marry Fabert, and leave for America.

It happened without you.

Benoît!

Sophie?

I told you we would end up winning this war.

-How are you Benoît? -I'm well.

-Are you still playing the piano? -Always.

-But I'm looking for work. -What about your singer?

And her strange husband.

He was an eleventh hour Gaullist.

-Did he get by? -Not really.

Someone waiting for you?

No, I'm going to my mom's. Rue Damrémont.

Ah, Peggy. This is my wife Peggy.

This is Sophie Vasseur, I told you about her.

We've been through some hard times together.

My first brother in arms.

…are expected on the concourse, by platform 13.

That's us. We've got to go.

-Bye, Sophie. -Bye.

We'll stay in contact, right? Let's not lose touch.

Life moves by you.

It rubs and moves others

Without taking you.

The war is over.

FRENCH RED CROSS

Subtitle translation by: Ginger Clark