The phone's ringing.
What time is it?
5:30.
It's a wrong number.
Might be something important.
It's woken Amy.
I'll get her.
There, there, there.
Hello? It's about bloody time.
Who is this? - Who do you think it is?.
Toni.
How are you, old bastard? Bloody hell.
Do you know what bloody time it is?
No... shit, no.
No, I don't, mate. Sorry.
It's not even 6:00.
Shit, I should be in bed.
I was. Where are you?
Bugger if I know, mate.
Are you in England?
Yeah, definitely England. Without a doubt.
This is a surprise. What's it been?
Like five years? - Yeah, something like that.
So, what, we're going to meet?
Yeah? Tomorrow, lunch?
Lunch, yeah. Yeah, sure.
All right, I'll come over at 1:00.
Okay. - Yeah? All right.
Ciao for now.
It can only be bad news at this time of the morning.
That was Toni.
He's not gone vegetarian, has he?
Nah.
He didn't say. I doubt it.
Knowing Toni, he could have aligned himself...
with some vegan terrorist faction...
the Popular Front for the Liberation of the Frozen Pea.
I'm sorry, I should have asked you first.
For God's sakes, stop apologizing.
It's only Sunday lunch, he's not moving in.
Is he? - He really likes you, you know?
Gosh. I feel somehow validated.
It's just... - What?
I never understood why he had to be so angry all the time.
He was always angry.
We both were We were part of the Anger Generation.
You, angry? Come on.
Petulant, perhaps. - Anyway, he's a writer.
He believes in telling the truth.
He's not a very good writer.
No, he's not successful. That doesn't mean he's not good.
That doesn't make him Proust, either.
You always defend him.
Of course, I do. He's my best friend.
Stop. - Do not move.
Like that.
Don't look at me like that.
Chris.
I know you want to sleep with other women,
and I understand.
It's nothing to feel guilty about.
In fact, I want you to have affairs.
It'll be good for our marriage.
And of course, I'll still cook your dinner,
and do your washing and ironing.
I'm quite tired, Chris.
It's the weekend.
It's Sunday tomorrow.
I'm not really in the mood.
We never make love anymore. - We make love constantly.
I can't even remember the last time.
Yesterday morning.
We used to do it three times a day.
That was when we were new to each other.
Anyway, it only happened once...
and you complained about being sore for a week afterwards.
Sore, but very smug.
Matey. Come here, you.
You're ruined. You're ruined.
Now, Africa, Chris. You must get yourself to Africa.
Black women...
I was in Italy, went to Spain.
Spun me around, really. Ended up in New York.
I kept meaning to send a postcard. You know how it is.
Why did you come back?
It's difficult to talk about.
Not bad news, I hope. - No, it's okay.
What's up, mate?
This is really hard.
Do you want me to leave you two alone for a minute?
No.
No, you stay. It concerns both of you.
You can hide from the truth for only so long before it all gets too much.
It's time I faced up to the way things really are.
You see, Chris...
I had to come back because...
I love you.
I always have.
You're the only person in the world for me.
I'm sorry, Marion.
I know this must come as a bit of a blow...
but Chris and I were meant to be together.
Very funny.
Your faces.
What's her name?
Her name's Kali, as in 'California.'
It's where her folks are from, only she spells it with a 'K.'
You should have brought her along.
No, we believe in having separate friends.
I met her in a creative writing course in Pasadena.
What were you doing there? - I was teaching it.
I didn't know you went in for that.
Which, teaching or seducing students?
Huh?
No, I don't if I can avoid it.
But you've got to subsidize your poetry somehow.
If poetry's going to mean anything,
you've got to take it directly to the people.
That is pure paranoia.
Anybody who wants to can read poetry.
Yeah, but they don't want to, do they?
'Cause they're told what? It's a minority taste.
Late night slot...
pigeon fancying...
goat fucking... whatever it is.
I see loads of poetry in the shops.
You don't see poetry in the shops.
You see golfing limericks,
and jolly historical ballads...
dead unthreatening stuff.
There's nothing vital, there's nothing...
Hey, hey, hey. - Nothing about what's happening now.
Sorry, baby.
What you actually mean is, nobody stocks your books.
Exactly.
Bastards.
Chris? Huh?
What do you get up to on your walks?
Nothing.
I think about...
What about?
I don't know, serious shit...
the past, future, meaning-of-life stuff.
I make a few...
mental lists. What kind of lists?
You know, some people count sheep.
I make lists.
'Chris Lloyd, a Story So Far.'
Healthy, not poor, not deformed,
not starving.
Not asleep. - Not asleep.
Married... yes. Children... one.
Job... one, house... yes, mortgage... yes,
car... arguably.
And so on and so on.
Until the panic subsides.
What have you got to panic about?
Nothing.
It's what worries me.
I love you. - I love you back.
And your friend.
Toni hasn't changed, has he?
Toni's incapable of change...
like the dinosaurs. And look what happened to them.
Marion? - Mmm?
Would you still love me, no matter what I did?
Why? What have you done? - No... nothing.
It's a rhetorical question.
Would I still love you, no matter what?
No matter what.
You must be joking.
What kind of yield do you expect?
A good few pounds, I suppose.
Dig up these escapist flowerbeds, you'll triple your output.
Yeah, well, I'm sticking a few veg on the table,
not provisioning the bloody Ukraine.
Good to see you, mate.
This is really something, Chris.
What is?
This.
You've got the lot, haven't you? Everything a man could want.
I'm impressed. - Are you taking the piss?
Is this it?
Bloody hell, if you're asking me...
am I happy with the vegetable patch, the flowerbeds,
the wife and baby, the job and the mortgage,
the answer's yes. I am, strangely enough.
I believe you. - There's nothing wrong in any of that.
Okay, no problem.
I'm just surprised, that's all.
Chris Lloyd, happy ever after in Metroland.
Who'd have thought it?
We're already calling them the 'Sexy Sixties.'
Sexy, saucy, sixties.
It gives you a hard-on just saying it.
Yeah, Brigitte Bardot, Anna Karina, Françoise Dorleac...
think of the sex they're having in France.
If we were in Paris now...
Strolling down the Boulevard Saint-Germain...
Stopping, chatting with friends, kissing on both cheeks...
Pernod, coffee with Sartre and de Beauvoir at Les Deux Magots.
Not much point being a boulevardier in the suburbs, is there?
No boulevard, and Acacia Avenue doesn't have the same appeal.
There's one thing to be said in favour of nuclear war...
at least this place would go up in smoke.
Metroland would disappear in one brilliant, blinding flash.
A million sand wedges melted into scrap.
Smoldering mountain of occasional tables.
Middlesex's topiary incinerated in an instant.
Could you throw us our ball back, please?
Only the bloody English.
Tennis in the rain.
Poor sods.
What will they end up doing?
Bank managers. - They can't all be bank managers.
Of course they can. Metroland was built for bank managers...
actual bank managers, retired bank managers,
student bank managers, baby bank managers.
It's like 'The Invasion of the Body Snatchers,'
instead of aliens... bank managers. - Yeah.
Not me.
This one.
Impressing the bourgeoisie?
Excuse-me, sir.
My friend and I would like to sleep with your wife.
Sorry, old man? - We'll drop by to fuck her
Saturday afternoon.
Do you speak English? - No.
I think I can help you. Let me translate for you.
The young man wishes to know...
if he might come to tea on Saturday afternoon...
with a view to mowing your lawn.
Merci.
Those silly games we used to play.
What's so silly about them?
They might be childish, but at least we had the right idea...
sticking one up the bourgeoisie's fat complacent bum.
Those were great days, weren't they?
You're talking like it was 100 years ago.
It feels like it was.
Does it? - So when will I meet this Kali?
Kali and I are having a party. Why don't you come along?
Soon. Just don't wear that.
I haven't been to a party in ages.
You know what it's like having a kid.
No, I don't actually.
So, are you in love with her, then?
In love?
What?
What's wrong with that? - It's just the way you say it.
You sound like my dad.
Yes, things are going all right with Kali.
She's a smart girl. You'd like her.
We have a non-monogamous relationship now.
Christ.
She's all right about that? - It was her idea.
Neither of us wants a relationship based on possessiveness or jealousy.
Or any of that shit.
She just... you just...
go off and... - I just... yeah.
Whenever I feel like it.
You've been unfaithful to Marion, yet?
Are you serious?
I'm very happy with my wife.
Yeah.
No, I haven't been unfaithful.
That was interesting.
What was? - That strenuous...
denial.
What does that mean?
'No, but I wouldn't mind a bit. No, but I nearly got some.'
No, it means 'No, because I don't want to.'
What about sex? - We have plenty of sex.
All right, I'm only asking.
I'm sure Marion sticks her heels in your ears...
and drains you as dry as a loofah. - Kindly, kindly...
keep your disgusting similes away from my wife.
You're only human. You've been together eight years now.
Don't you ever wonder what it'd be like...
to go to bed with another woman?
Of course.
Everybody does.
That's just fantasy.
That has nothing to do with actual life.
I don't lie in bed thinking,
'Oh Christ, I hope I have it away with somebody else before I die.'
I would never do anything to hurt her.
She might not mind.
We've won an award.
Christopher Lloyd, Advertising Design Awards winner gold.
Now, this is it. This is more like it.
I thought you'd like that one.
I'm impressed. - It's not exactly Cartier-Bresson.
You always were a good photographer.
Not quite good enough.
Could have been.
Whatever happened to that book you were going to do?
Do you remember? - Oh yeah.
I thought it was time to get serious about the career...
when Amy came along. It's still on the back burner.
What's it about?
Well, it's...
It's in here? - I'm not saying.
It's in here? I'm sitting on it.
No, don't. - Chris' deep dark secrets.
You'll laugh. - What's the matter? I won't.
Friends since the cradle. It doesn't matter what it is.
I promise you. However ludicrous, trivial, obscene...
I'm not going to laugh, am I?
Let me see. - Watch out.
What I'm planning is...
a photographic history of travel in London,
the premise being sort of the extraordinary within the ordinary.
Everybody's so familiar with the trains...
and they cease to see anything special about it.
This is one of the ideas I've got for the cover.
It's just a rough thing. - Fuck me.
An illustrated guide to the Metropolitan Line.
An enticing prospect. - Thanks, you bastard.
Come on, I'm sorry. - Don't overdo it.
It's just one of a lot of ideas.
It's a great idea.
I look forward to it, honestly.
What's happened to you, Chris?
What do you mean?
You know what I mean.
A punk concert? - He's got a friend in the band.
You hate punk. - No, I don't.
Yes, you do.
You know you'll hate it.
You're only going because Toni wants you to go.
I happen to be very interested.
They might have an age policy... 'Middle aged swingers strictly banned.'
I'm not that old.
You've developed this very annoying habit...
of constantly telling me how I should be feeling.
What I will and won't like.
I am capable of independent thought, you know?
How long's Toni staying around this time?
I don't know. He didn't say.
What's he living on anyway?
Dole and savings, I guess. He doesn't seem to be short.
He's probably taking that Kali woman for all she's worth.
That's a very... aggressive way of putting it.
Just an educated guess based on what I know about Toni.
You've never liked him, have you? - No, I like him.
I just don't have a rose-tinted view of him, that's all.
You can sound very cynical sometimes, Marion.
Don't tell me you've only just noticed.
Yeah, well, anyway, I'm gonna...
I am gonna go to this gig. It will be an experience.
It'll be something... different.
It'll be fun.
Nice shirt, wanker.
Hey.
Wonderful, aren't they?
Yeah, very talented.
Take a hit.
Go on. A big one.
Hello.
Hello there.
Chris loves you.
I saw you.
What are you doing?
Chris, you all right? - Yeah.
This is fun.
This is fun, Toni.
You always knew how to have fun, didn't you?
I always... I always...
I always felt a bit dull next to you.
What's the secret?
No secret.
No, really, what is it?
What's the secret, Toni?.
Your problem is you're busy doing what other people want you to do...
your parents, Marion, everyone.
The trick is to do what you want. - Sod what he wants.
What about me? Are we shagging or not?
I should know better than to try screwing old men.
Fun.
I'm having fun. Yeah, this is it.
Come on, then.
Up you go. Up, up, up.
From now on, I'm going to do what I want.
Of course, you are. Come on.
No, really. Come on. Let's get you home.
I'm gonna do what I want. No, Toni,
I mean it.
Taxi. Taxi.
Hey, stop there.
In you get.
Chris, Chris, Chris,
you do not want sex. - I bloody do.
No, you don't. You're going to bed.
You are in the first stage...
of a three-stage hangover. - Marion.
Oh, Toni... - I say, sir.
I say, I've never seen the likes of it.
I said the sofa. Go on. Get out.
Out, out.
Jesus Christ. - Private.
Chris, come on. - Yeah.
Come on.
start feeling randy.
And stage two is pass out... halfway through.
No. Feeling ran...
rubbish. Rubbish.
Anyway, I want it to be you...
that I make love to. - It's me.
No, it's not. - It's me, darling.
No, it's eight pints of lager with an erection.
No. - Yes, it is. Get into bed.
Stage one. Then stage two.
What's stage three? - Stage three, my dear,
is wake up with a blinding headache.
Bollocks. I feel absolutely fine. - Into bed. Bed.
No, I feel... yeah. - Into bed. Come on.
Go on. In, in.
I'm going to get the baby.
Oh, Chris, for God's sake. - Are you coming back?
How you feeling?
Fine. Thanks.
I phoned the office and told them you were ill.
I got to get going.
Thanks for the sofa.
Everything okay?
Fine.
You and Toni...
you had a row or something?
Course not.
Saw you snapping away on the platform.
Interested in trains, are you?
Not really.
Just there's not much else to photograph around here.
It's very fancy.
Got it for my birthday.
I retired today.
They gave me a whiskey decanter.
42 years in the same company,
and nobody's noticed I never drink.
This is the last time I'll ever make this journey.
This used to be a grand line. Used to have ambitions.
Did you know there was a Pullman car...
right up until Hitler's war started? It was called the Mayflower.
It wasn't just ambition with the Victorians, you see.
There was confidence as well. Confidence in ambition.
Can you imagine?
They wanted to join the Metropolitan Line...
up with Northampton and Birmingham. Have a great link through...
from Yorkshire and Lancashire through Quainton Road,
through London joining up with the old Southeastern...
and through a Channel tunnel to the continent.
Monumental.
Is that when they started calling it Metroland here?
That bloody nonsense.
No, that was just a name made up to please the estate agents...
during the war before Hitler's.
Catchy name to make it sound cosy.
Cosy homes for cosy heroes.
25 minutes from Baker Street...
and a pension at the end of the line.
Turned it into what it is now...
bourgeois dormitory.
Aren't you bourgeois, then?
Course, I am.
So are you. I shouldn't wonder.
No, I'm not staying in Metroland.
I'll live in Paris and take pictures.
French never could run a decent rail service.
You see, it doesn't matter where you go.
Metroland isn't a place,
it's a state of mind.
Oh, Amy. Aw, sweetheart,
what are you doing?
Marion. There's a good girl.
Marion.
Sorry, love, she's just...
taken everything down.
Daddy's had a bad day. Come on.
Stop now. - Do not move.
Like that.
The camera... no more. No more.
You taught me to say what I'm feeling,
now you're blaming me when I do.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Yes, but I was teaching you to be sincere, not cruel.
Chris?
If you're going to look at dirty pictures of your old girlfriends,
at least have the style to do it openly.
Sex with me was always wonderful, Chris.
Better than it is now with Marion.
No, that's not true.
That's just nostalgia. No...
you gave me multiple orgasms every time.
Did I?
You never said.
Mmm.
You were a fantastic lover.
Marion doesn't appreciate you.
You might be right about that.
Face it, you don't desire her anymore.
No, I do. Just not in the same way.
You never stopped desiring me.
Yeah.
I didn't fall in love with you either, though, did I?
Are you sure?
Maybe you were just too young to know.
Maybe you just lost your nerve...
and ran back to where you felt comfortable.
What do you mean? - I thought you came to Paris...
to be an artist. - I did.
So what are you doing 10 years later living a mile...
from where you grew up, and in a job you despise?
Face it, Chris...
you've become your parents. - That's not true.
Oh, really? Why didn't you stay in Paris?
You should be with them, in the street.
You could take some good shots.
I'm an artist, not a journalist.
How's the lady today?
Very well.
Unfortunately.
Do you have a light?
Merci.
Ciao. - Ciao.
Who's that girl? - What girl?
Uh, with the plastic leopard and dark hair.
Plastic leopard, dark hair and stunning?
Yes.
No idea.
Chris...
don't waste your time, okay?
Don't you mess with girls.
All they'll do is rip your balls off.
Look at me.
Tell me...
do you make a living with your pictures?
No, not me.
'Cause I could use some help on the weekend.
Unless, of course,
you are above that kind of work.
No. Yes.
Thanks, Henri.
'Africa's where it's happening, Chris.
Vibrant culture. Great people.
Thinking of hanging out here for a while.
Or maybe heading down to Afghanistan,
'cause apparently, they grow the best pot in the world there.
You wouldn't believe the skirt out here.
The American girls.
Jesus, even you could score.'
'I'm working on getting to Paris. Just not sure when.
Don't start the revolution without me.
Eat the rich. Love, Toni.'
You're meant to be here, you bastard,
not bloody Afghanistan.
It's done.
What? - This morning, the lady told me...
her chocolate was cold.
And it suddenly hit me. I went down to the basement,
I grabbed an axe and I cut her in pieces.
You should have seen all the blood.
You killed your wife? - Not quite...
but it doesn't hurt to dream.
Bonjour. - Bonjour.
Did you take those pictures? - Yes, I did.
They're great.
They're not too bad.
I'm Chris. Chris Lloyd.
Nice to meet you. I'm Annick.
Annick. - So you're English?
I am. - I can hear it.
'Alexandria Quartet.' - Yes.
So you're reading Mountolive?
In English? - Uh-huh.
I'm practicing.
I love speaking English, but, uh...
you know, I make so many mistakes.
No... it sounds good to me.
Did you read the first two? - Yeah, of course.
I mean, if I started reading a quartet on the third book,
I might get a bit lost. - Yeah, right. Absolutely.
You'd have to be really stupid to start on the third book.
Of course. - Which you're not, I'm sure...
stupid... I mean.
Would you like another drink? - Yes.
Right. - I'd like that.
That's how it starts with girls...
a glass of wine and boom...
your cock in the mangle.
I love to drink a little bit.
Makes me less inhibited. - Yeah, me, too.
Trouble is, I get so uninhibited I pass out.
What's wrong? - Nothing.
You keep staring at me.
I'm sorry.
Have I got something on my face?
No. No, not at all, um...
It's just you're so...
oh, God. Sorry.
No, I'm just...
what I'm trying to say is, you're really...
Well read?
Yeah, exactly.
Annick. - Hmm?
Let's go. We're late.
I'm coming.
It was real nice meeting you.
Yeah. - Bye.
Annick. Do you want to see a film on Friday?
There's a new Bresson. - Friday, um...
yes, at, 6:00 here? - Yeah.
Bye.
So what did you think? - Oh, I think it is so, so sad.
It's so true, you know?
And lots of little things.
Lots of humour. - Humour...
maybe.
Ah, no... you mean, sad humour.
You're absolutely right, yeah.
Not the funny sort. - No.
'The Human Comedy.' - Yes.
Not the kind of humour you laugh at.
No, no.
Well... so...
Let's walk. - Yeah.
Yeah, where to? - I don't know.
Who cares?
What? - Oh, no, sorry.
No, I just wish my friend Toni was here to see this...
'cause we always dreamed about being boulevardiers.
Now I'm about to be one. - Quite.
Oh, the gutters.
So French.
Ah, that's the Palais Royal.
I had lunch there with my boss.
Oh, nice.
You're very clever. - No, I'm not.
You think so?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
You're mad.
Sorry.
Slowly. Slowly.
Slowly.
Is it the first time? - Huh?
Is it the first time? - No.
No, I've slept with loads of women...
er... well, you know, some.
Well, one or two.
Um, shall I...
shall I put something on?
Yes.
Please. - Okay.
Oh, shit.
No, I can't...
Let's try.
Okay, give it to me.
God.
Dear, dear.
No. I'm going to do it.
It's okay.
Did you come? - No.
Oh, God. Sorry.
Oh, no, it's okay.
I usually don't the first time.
Oh.
I like the sound of that.
Implies there's going to be a second.
Oh, I hope so if it's what you want.
Well, yeah, I like to sell my women into slavery...
after ravishing them usually, but, um...
Is that right? - in your case,
I'm prepared to make an exception. - Mmm? I'll be back.
Look, I'm sorry.
You've probably noticed.
I'm not very experienced.
Have you been with many men?
Oh, thousands.
Silly.
I never thought the sound of a flushing toilet could be sexy,
but I guess it depends who's doing the flushing.
Very funny.
At least I can keep you entertained...
while you're not coming.
For you.
We're here.
Mmm...
How are you feeling? - Wonderful.
You don't have to speak English if you don't want to.
No. I want to improve. I want to.
I want to... what's the word?
'Impress' on you. - You do impress on me all the time.
Your English hardly needs improving at all.
Your English is wonderful. - Oh, liar.
Tell me what you're feeling, but not just generally like...
exactly.
Fine.
Normal, I suppose.
Okay, now, I want really what you're feeling.
Tell me.
Uh, I don't know.
I don't know. You go first.
Well, okay, let's try.
Well, I'm amused and surprised...
that I have a beautiful English boyfriend and, um...
guilty about what my mother would say about the sex.
And, um...
anxious for her opinion of you...
and, uh...
maybe a little bit worried...
that I'm not quite clever enough for you,
and that you might want a girlfriend...
who's more than just a secretary.
That's it. Now you try.
Right, um...
well, I'm content...
peaceful, tranquil,
with, um...
an undercurrent of turbulence.
My God, what was that?
The weather forecast?
Please. I mean, it's not a test.
Don't look so worried.
No, no.
It's... in England,
when you ask somebody how they are,
it's just... words. It's just a courtesy.
The last thing in the world that you expect...
is that they're going to actually tell you.
Yeah.
You're so direct.
Where did you learn to be so sincere?
What do you mean, 'learn'?
Either you say what's truthful or you don't.
That's it? - Yes.
You look so scared.
How do I know if I'm in love?
You always know when your house is on fire. That's all.
Right arm around the wicket.
Four balls to come. Play.
It's a glorious run.
Joy of the century.
Sorry.
Oh, it's a good one. - Putain.
God... sorry.
Are you okay?
Why are the Brits so British?.
I came here so I wouldn't have to deal with that.
I think the natives are getting restless.
Why, what did he say? - Something unflattering...
about the English, I think. - Go screw around somewhere else.
Did you get any of that? - Maybe he wants to take our picture.
Do you think he's putting on an act?
Do you think he's English himself?
Are you?
He certainly acts like the real thing.
Well, speaking for myself,
I could do with a 'vin rouge.' Any takers?
Come on.
Are you coming?
Why not?
Monsieur... madame.
So, why were you pretending to be French, then?
You know the bloody English abroad...
they're always complaining. It's either the food or the beer,
or the terrible service... 'Oh, aren't the Parisians rude?'
And shouting, as though that's going to make them understood.
Why would I want to be English?
Well, surely there must be something you like about us?
I can't think of anything.
Don't you miss home? - No, of course not.
Oh.
What?
Don't you believe me? - Of course I believe you.
Bonjour.'Le monde,' please.
Journal anglais?
Do you want this one? - Non.
What are you doing today?
Nothing special. - Okay.
Then, see you.
And I've started thinking...
in French, you know? I feel French.
I'll wave my hands about when I talk, you know?
I have, uh... sex in the afternoon.
If that's not French, I don't know what is.
I belong here, you know? I feel like I'm at home.
But?
It's... it's not that I miss England exactly,
but there's... one part of me...
that feels like it's being disloyal to the other.
Maybe you're just homesick.
No.
Lonely?
Hardly. - Oh, yes, you've got Thingmy...
what's her name? Anyway...
what's she like, this girl you're having a relationship with,
as you put it?
Her name's Annick. What's wrong with putting it like that?
You don't have to tell me about her. It's none of my business.
No, I don't mind telling you about her.
She's really... direct...
and emotional, and sincere... everything.
We've got this real connection between us.
We never lie to each other. - What? Never?
No. Never.
Don't worry. I'm not trying to embarrass you.
I'm not embarrassed.
What are you going to do, then?
Do?
For a living.
Take photographs.
Does it pay well? - I don't know.
I haven't actually sold any yet.
Oh.
How are you going to provide for your family then?
What family?
The one you'll have one day.
Bloody hell. Give me time.
Why?
Well, 'cause I'm 21.
I'm still... you know...
still having relationships.
What, more than one?
Well, not simultaneously, no.
Anyway, marriage is a relationship.
Yeah... so?
You said you were going to have relationships...
and then get married, as if they were two different things.
No, I didn't say I was going to get married.
Well, no, I suppose you didn't technically, no.
Bloody right, I didn't. I'll never get married.
Oh, I think you will. - Why?
You're not original enough not to.
Chris...
does Annick know about me?
She knows I see friends.
Does she know you see this particular friend?
Not specifically, no.
It's never come up.
It's no big deal, though, is it?
It's not as if...
we've got anything to hide.
I thought you never lied to her.
I'm not lying.
If she asks me, I'll tell her.
Well...
if she doesn't know I exist, how can she ask?
Fair enough.
I'll tell her then, shall I?
Don't start reading things into these conversations, will you?
What do you mean?
Well... if you analyse them too much,
you might just get the idea that I fancy you.
Do you?
I'll see you then.
What shall we do tonight?
I don't know.
See a movie?
How about the new Truffaut?
This English girl I met said it's pretty good.
That's settled, then.
Yeah. She really liked it.
Good.
Yeah...
Marion, this English girlfriend of mine...
said it was one of her favourite films.
Are you trying to tell me something?
What do you mean?
Is this the famous English tact?
No.
Merely pointing out that, apparently, the film is quite good.
Good.
Who told you that? - A friend.
An English girlfriend?
Well, not 'girlfriend.'
You know, I mean, a friend who happens to be a girl.
You've got French boyfriends, haven't you?
Yes, but I don't mention them three times running...
unless I have a very good reason.
Well, I'm just explaining that she's a friend.
Um... we see each other from time to time...
and... I've been meaning to mention her to you. That's it.
You've been meaning to mention that you're sleeping with her.
No. Of course not.
I sleep with you. - Or that you want to.
No. Hold on. This is getting ridiculous.
I'm not being... what's the bloody word?
I'm not being perfidious.
You know, Albion is always perfidious.
They teach you that in school. - No, I'm not...
I'm trying to be honest.
I don't want to hide things from you.
Are you sleeping with her?
No.
Are you in love with her?
Of course not.
I like you.
Thank you very much. So kind. Of course you do.
No, I mean, I really do.
I love being here, being with you and everything.
I love it.
I like you a lot.
How rational.
How measured.
How English you are.
You say it as if you'd known me for 20 years...
rather than a few months.
You taught me to say what I'm feeling.
Now you're blaming me when I do.
I thought... you know...
I'm sorry. - I was... I was...
I was teaching you to be sincere, not cruel.
I'm sorry. Not 'cause I've done anything wrong.
I haven't, but I'm sorry because...
you've misunderstood the situation.
No. No.
Why are you...
Annick...
why are you crying?
Huh?
Is it because I mentioned that girl?
I don't know. Tell me.
Is it because you think I don't love you enough, or something?
Is it because you love me? Tell me.
Annick?
It's all right.
God save the queen.
Oh... perhaps he has been 'malade,' huh?
He looks healthy enough to me. - Perhaps he has been sulking.
He's not a sulker.
Perhaps he work hard.
Perhaps his duck, she has given him the elbow.
Oh, perhaps that, yes.
Anyway, how could we let you spend the evening by yourself?
We thought you might be ill.
I thought you might not like me anymore.
I made a terrible mistake.
Annick... meant everything to me.
I loved her. I loved her.
I realize it now. I don't want to go to bloody England.
I hate England. I'm staying here.
I'm going to stay in Paris. I'm going to be an artist.
I don't want a wife. I don't want bloody kids.
I don't want responsibility. I don't need any of that.
Well, at least we know where we stand.
Attagirl. It's Mummy, Amy.
Watch what you're doing with those hands.
Oh, that's great. Yeah, that looks lovely.
On this beach, sun coming down,
music playing, campfire and the women...
unbelievable.
Incredible.
Do you ever think about...
somebody else when you're having sex with Kali?
Of course.
Who doesn't?
Me.
Until recently, just lately.
Whenever I make... - Fucking.
Yeah, with Marion...
Annick keeps popping up.
It's not that I physically want her.
If she walked in the door right now, I might not fancy her at all,
but I've just been thinking about the past a lot.
And I'm wondering what that says...
about... me and Marion.
To be honest, we haven't been getting on that well recently.
Are you going to leave her?
No, I haven't even thought about that.
It's just I feel...
Trapped. You feel trapped.
Quite frankly, Chris, I'm not surprised.
Look what you've done with your life.
No wonder you're bored.
Oh, and I suppose your life is something wonderful by comparison.
I do what I want to do. I'm proud of my work.
Can you say the same?
I'm your oldest friend, Chris.
I know what's going on in your head.
I can read you like a book.
You keep thinking to yourself, 'Did I make the right choice?'
Well, did you?
Toni did ask you, you know.
Of course he did.
'Come to Toni's party. Dress informal. Wives optional.'
Rubbish. He wanted you to come.
Well, someone's got to look after Amy.
We could have got a babysitter.
We never go out together. We haven't been to a party in decades.
You always say you hate parties.
Yeah, well, I want us to have fun.
You mean, you want you to have fun.
Well, go on. I'm not stopping you.
What I really hate is that you feel this need...
to drive a wedge between me and Toni.
Like you've got something against there being anybody...
who knew me before you.
I think you'd better go.
I hope it's fun.
Lloydy.
Hey, how you doing?
What did you do, raid an art gallery?
What are you doing with your trousers still on?
Where's Kali? - Downstairs, I think.
Bit of a sausage roll crisis going.
Listen, go down and cheer her up.
She just had an abortion.
It was her decision, you know, but I agree.
Who wants to bring another little bastard...
into this shit heap, huh?
Except budding bourgeois fat cats, of course.
Enjoy yourself, for fuck's sake.
Prawn volauvent?
They're part-raw, part-incinerated...
barbecued-sushi-effect sort of thing.
I know you.
You were staring at me in the hall.
Not staring, exactly. - You were checking me out.
It's all right. I was doing the same to you.
I'm Joanna, by the way.
Chris.
Are you a friend of Toni's?
That's one way of describing it.
Has anyone ever told you you have a nice face?
'Nice'? Ugh.
I suppose my mother might have mentioned that.
You can get me a drink, if you want.
Oh, can I? Mind if I get myself one?
Hello again.
Hello.
I was wondering where you'd gone.
I was looking for you.
So now that you found me,
what are you going to do? - Do?
Well, you're interested, aren't you?
I know I am, so I assume we're going to fuck.
Oh, I... don't know about that.
I'm married. - I'm not prejudiced.
No, it's not that easy.
If you're worried about getting involved, don't.
I'm not into that shit.
You're a married man.
You got it all out in the open.
Well, good for you... on both counts.
Can we go to bed now?
Well, that wasn't so difficult, was it?
I want you to have affairs.
It'll be good for our marriage.
I'll still cook your dinner...
and do your washing and ironing.
It's a little more practical if you're within reach.
Have you got any Durex?
I'm not on the pill.
No...
it's not the kind of thing...
you carry around with you when you're married, really.
You'd be surprised.
Toni keeps them in the bathroom cabinet just under the sink.
Right.
Chris?
You okay? Good old Joanna.
Go on, Joanna.
You go for it, man, all right?
What are you doing? - I'm going home.
Why?
Because Toni put you up to this.
You sleeping with him?
Sometimes. I'm not a whore.
I decide who I sleep with, not Toni.
But he suggested it might be a good idea,
provided you didn't find me too repulsive, right?
He wanted you to be happy... he cares about you.
I'm really touched. - What difference does it make?
Whatever Toni did, the point is...
you still wanted to sleep with me. - I wanted to, but I didn't.
'Cause you were scared. - Possibly, yes.
Isn't that as good a reason as any?.
Hi. - Hi.
Joanna found this in the spare bedroom.
Joanna? - A friend of Kali's.
Watch this husband of yours, Marion.
Quite the raver on the dance floor when they put the oldies on.
It was his wild streak that I married him for.
What the hell are you doing here?
I know what you did.
About what?
That whole bloody little adolescent game with Joanna.
It wasn't a game.
I was giving you what you said you wanted...
helping save you from yourself.
If you've said anything to Marion...
What are you frightened of, Chris?
Upsetting the cosy middle-class-applecart?
Losing your perfect wife and your neat little flowerbed?
Have you said anything? - What's happened to you, man?
You've just given up... down the line.
Come on, what went wrong? Paris wasn't that long ago.
It's been nearly bloody 10 years since Paris...
most of my adult life. - New definition of 'adult':
'Time in which you've sold out.'
A few years of freedom, then back to the safe job and the tennis club.
Yet another triumph for the bourgeoisie steamroller.
What are you doing here?. What the fuck were you doing with Marion?.
Why don't you ask her? - I'm asking you.
Let's just say Marion doesn't share some of your inhibitions.
For Christ's sake, stop it.
Stop it, Chris. Stop it.
Get off. Stop it. Stop it.
Did you sleep with Toni?
Is that what he said?
Not precisely.
And what do you think?
I want you to tell me you haven't.
Does it really matter if I have?
The way you've been behaving, I wouldn't have thought you cared.
Of course I care.
He made a pass at me.
More than once.
I turned him down.
But I... I nearly said yes.
I was tempted.
He happens to be rather attractive.
I really don't know what's going through him.
I don't understand him.
Oh, Chris...
you're such an innocent sometimes.
Don't you see? He's jealous of you.
Jealous?
Toni's jealous of me?
Yes.
And if you can't see why...
then we really have got a problem.
Hello, darling.
Hello, sweetheart.
Good girl.
You all right?
Marion?
You know Toni's party? - Mmm?
Something happened there.
There was this girl.
Well, what's important is...
she tried to get off with me.
I'm glad I'm not the only person in the world...
who finds you attractive.
She really tried quite hard.
I can't say that I blame her.
Just thought you ought to know.
Is this a confession? - No.
Course not.
You didn't sleep with her? - No.
I just want to get everything out in the open...
with the circumstances.
But I was wondering...
how would you feel if I had?
I suppose that depends on the circumstances.
I expect we'll find out one day.
What?
You'll probably sleep with someone else sooner or later.
It's too interesting not to. - No. I don't see why.
I don't think either of us went into this marriage...
with ridiculous expectations.
I do know what it is to be sexually bored.
Do you?
Are you?
Sometimes...
but mostly not.
The thing is, Chris,
it isn't what you think it is.
It doesn't prove anything and it doesn't disprove anything.
Yeah. Well, you know, it's...
a hypothetical situation anyway, so...
Well, not entirely. I...
Since we're discussing it,
I might as well tell you that...
yes, I have been unfaithful to you once,
and, yes, it was only the once...
and, no, I haven't been tempted to since...
and I don't think I will be now.
Fuck.
Was that better?
Better than what?
You did sleep with her, didn't you?
That girl at Toni's party? - I told you...
Well...
she was all right, I suppose.
But who wants fast food when you can eat at the Ritz?
Listen, I just came to say goodbye.
Yeah. Yeah, back to the States, I think.
What are you going to do?
I don't know, maybe some screenwriting.
Kali's people are in the film game. I might, you know...
Going to stay at their place in Malibu. It's lovely, yeah.
So, when are you coming back? - I don't know.
I'm leaving it open-ended. Listen, Chris...
why don't you come?
You're serious. - Of course I'm bloody serious.
Why don't you just let it all go, huh?
Doesn't your heart just sink at the thought of it all?
Knowing what, you're going to spend the rest of your life here...
knowing how every day is going to begin and end,
day after monotonous day until what?
You keel over with a heart attack well before your time?
The thing you don't understand, Toni,
the thing I didn't understand...
is that I like it here.
I like my life.
I'm content.
Making lists again? - Yeah.
What about 'happy'?
What about it?
When you're drawing up your lists,
what do you put in the column next to 'happy'?
'Happy:
if not now...
never.'