Original subtitles

Georg?

Why are you still here?

Paris is being sealed off. You won’t get out.

-And you? -I leave tomorrow.

-For where? -Cassis.

-Where’s that? -Marseille.

I’m shipping out. l have a “danger” visa for the USA.

-What’s that? -A visa for people in great jeopardy.

-You’re in great jeopardy? -Come on!

My articles? The newspaper?

You could do me a big favor.

There’s some money in it for you.

-Deliver these two letters. -Why don’t you do it?

They’re for Weidel. You know. The writer.

-The great writer. Once great... -I don’t know him.

| asked why you don’t deliver them yourself.

I tried.

But the hotel owner was weird.

You got scared?

I’d say l was being cautious.

-Who are the letters from? -One is from his wife.

-So, who cares? -She seems to.

The other is from the Mexican Consul.

l was friends with Weidel. We have the same publisher...

When do | get my money?

Once you’ve given him the letters.

Hotel Ryad, room 6. I’ll be waiting for you here.

How will you make it to Cassis?

-You still letting Heinz drag you down? -No.

-Good. -What’s good?

We have a spare place in the car.

But just the one.

You coming?

Yes.

Sorry...

-Why didn’t you wait downstairs? -I rang the bell.

-I didn’t hear it. -Apparently not.

I’m looking for a room.

-Show me your papers, please. -Show me a room, please.

Take your pick. There are hardly any guests.

Maybe you can advise me.

With a little morning sun...

nice and quiet, with birds in the garden.

Are you German? From the occupying authorities?

All guests are registered, l was checked just two weeks back.

A little morning sun and birds in the garden, please, Fraulein.

Please wait. I’ll get a key from downstairs.

Number 16, it’s a nice room, my nicest... two large windows facing south.

You can’t imagine the trouble the man caused me.

He came on the evening ofthe15th, just after the occupation.

I hadn’t shut my hotel, l’d stayed.

My father always said not to abandon property or it’d be destroyed.

Monsieur Weidel came to me.

He was trembling like a leaf, I found it odd.

When I gave him the form, he asked if he could stay offthe books.

As you know, Mr. Langeron still insists on registering all aliens.

Order must be maintained.

Right?

This guy made a fuss about his registration.

He and his wife had already stayed in this room.

They loved it.

And when it comes down to love...

| just melt.

That’s just how I am. A Frenchwoman through and through.

Only the one night is what I said.

He doesn’t come down the next day. So I open up with the night key.

And find this filthy mess.

He was lying already stiff in his own blood.

He’d slashed his wrists.

So where is he now?

I know someone at Saint-Sulpice Police. He took care of things:

Unknown corpse, crematorium, unmarked grave.

He caused me more trouble than the occupation.

What do you want to do with all this?

Would you like to take it?

| just want things to be in order.

Your papers.

He’s there! There!

It’s me.

-Where were you? We were worried. -Claire! What are you doing?

-They’ll come and find the room. -We’ll say it’s Jean’s game.

His secret room. He always wanted one.

The marzipan.

I promised it to the boy.

Melissa’s in Marseille with the kid. He rests, then you make for the hills.

He won’t make it!

I obtained morphine and three jabs of penicillin.

-Claire packed his bags. -He won’t make it, I say.

They’re going house to house.

The neighbors husband is with the police.

She saw the cubbyhole today. She’ll report it. They’ll be right here.

They’ve set up a camp at the Velodrome. They’re scouring the district.

They call it spring cleaning.

Son of a bitch.

I got a skeleton key for the door. The trip will take four days plus, okay?

You can open the shutters on the way.

To get some light and fresh air.

But keep them closed at every stop. You mustn’t be spotted. Okay?

When you get to Melissa’s...

you wait a few days,

and then head out to Henry in the hills.

-How am | to... -You help him.

You’re going to help them.

Here, I managed to get you this.

Thanks.

Go on.

The problem is, you have to subscribe...

We’re going to... Or hope...

-And you wanted to go where? -Marrakesh...

-Oh, cool! -Some sunshine...

He no /0nger knew how /0ng he had Watched over He/nz.

F/ha//y he had opened the wr/z‘er’s bag.

He began to read out of pure boredom.

He sensed /2‘ was h/s /anguage, h/s naf/ve tongue.

He came across words h/s poor mother had used to ca/m h/'m

When he ’0’ gotten angry and cruel

/n th/s story there were a /ot of mad fo/k, rea//y crazy peop/e,

a// of whom were m/'Xed up In terr/b/e, nebu/ous stufif

Even those who strove hard not to be.

A// the peop/e In the story,

and one of them resemb/ed h/'m h/mse/lf

d/dn ’t annoy him with the/r comp/eX/ty, as they wou/d have done In //'fe.

He understood the/r deeds because he cou/d f/na//y fo//ow them

from the very first thought r/ght t/Y/ the/r /ne v/tab/e conc/us/on.

On/y because the now-dead wr/ter had descr/bed them In that way

d/d they seem /ess v/c/ous to h/'m...

Two letters were In the rucksack

One from h/s pub//sher, pra/s/ng h/s story

but regrett/ng that such work was no /onger pub//shab/e.

The second /etter was from a woman who must have been h/s w/fe.

/t sa/d he was not to expect her return, the/r //'fe together was over

He remembered the letters Pau/ had given him for We/del

They were st/7/ In h/s breast pocket.

One was from the Mex/can Consu/ate In Marse/Y/e

conf/rm/ng that Mr We/de/ was we/come to come and //ve In Mex/co,

a v/sa and tra ve/ funds were wa/t/ng for h/'m.

The other was from h/s w/fe say/ng she had to see him aga/n,

he was not to dither, she was wa/t/ng.

He must come to her In Marse/Y/e at once.

A confused /etter But In order/y handwr/t/ng.

No, not order/y.

/mmacu/ate.

COME AT ONCE, MY LOVE!

LET US BEGIN A NEW, BETTER LIFE TOGETHER IN MEXICO!

MARIE

Heinz.

Heinz?

Heinz!

Get off!

Get off!

Look! A windows open!

Oh, the stench!

Ugh, he’s dead!

Let go.

-|’ll get his things. -Yes.

He reached Marse/Y/e the next day.

B/ue sk/es, pa/ms In the wmd

/t was co/d the M/stral

He was tired, no one /ooked at h/'m. That’s the terr/b/e th/ng

Not that they stare at you, your d/rty, t/'red face, your torn c/oth/ng

The terr/b/e th/ng /s that they don ’2‘ see you

That you don ’t eX/st In the/r wor/d

She tapped h/s shou/der and he turned round

That’s when he sawher

She /ooked at h/'m, //ght/y shook her head turned away and /e/t.

He watched her go.

Her e/egant b/ack coat, her smart shoes.

Her t/'red ga/t

Aga/n she turned to h/'m,

stared at h/'m, then wa/ked on.

/n that Instant, a po//ce s/'ren sounded then a second

/t was a raid He ran for /t

Could you go in goal?

-What time is it? -About 11 :00.

-Shouldn’t you be at school? -No.

Today’s Sunday.

Want a game?

I haven’t played in ages.

-You’d just be goalie. -Just goalie!

-How exactly would that work? -Are you German?

Can you hear it?

Now, it’s only that they love their goalies.

-I don’t know about that. -But they’re good, anyway.

Well, that’s true.

And you, are you any good?

Yes.

Really good?

Yes. Really good.

Give it here.

Flat as a pancake.

-How come? -How come what?

How come I didn’t just score?

Because of your supporting leg. It shows which way you’re going to shoot.

Sche/Be/

You speak German?

Is that all?

I can say a couple of other things.

l have to talk to your mama.

My name is Georg. I’m a friend of your husband’s.

We were on our way here...

He had a leg injury. It got infected.

He’s dead.

He /ooked for a hotel, somewhere ca/m where he cou/d h/de.

A// the hote/s were crammed

The seventh hotel, had a room desp/te the “no vacanc/es”s/gn.

A week up front.

-A week? -|fthere’s a raid,

I’ll be left empty-handed again.

You have no residence permit.

But I don’t mean to stay here.

But you have to prove that.

-And how do I do that? -You go to the police station

and show them your visa and ships passage.

So...

I can only stay here if...

I can prove that I don’t want to stay?

How much?

He knew the woman wou/d betray h/'m. ..

Tomorrow, /'fnot today.

He was exhausted He a/most d/dn ’2‘ care.

The pr/ce the woman wrote down was obscene.

/t was a// he had

He saw the others hang/ng around the /obby, anx/ous,

eager to te// h/'m, the new arr/va/, the/r stor/es. ..

and wh/ch country was /ssu/ng trans/ts or v/sas.

Later, up In the room, he thought of the wr/ter

He p/cked up h/s /ast manuscr/,'ot but /t no /onger enchanted h/'m.

He was fam/shed and h/s c/garette tasted foul

He /ay down on the bed, tr/ed to s/eep h/s hunger away.

Tomorrow he ’0’ take the wr/ter’s th/ngs to the Mex/can Consu/ate

and perhaps receive a f/nder’s fee and buy someth/ng to eat.

And then...

Someth/ng wou/d turn up.

H/'s hunger was excruc/at/ng.

This is my work contract.

Caracas.

I’m a conductor. You know Caracas?

You see? I’m supposed to start on September 1.

This...

is my visa. It came punctually.

They want modern music,

I’m surprised myself,

I’m a known Reger and Nono specialist, but modern music in Caracas?

Who listens to it there?

They want twelve passport photos.

Look: one, two, three...

four, five, six, seven...

eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. They’re all there.

I’m not smiling, my ears are visible.

Those are both big mistakes.

-Yes. -|’ve had rejections.

And that cost me...

This is my ship passage.

The ship has two stops in the USA and Mexico.

So I need the transits.

Maybe you’re thinking, “That lucky chap is bound to get his stupid transits”.

But no. They’re afraid.

Afraid we’ll disembark and stay.

-Do you have anything to eat? -What?

I do not.

He /ooked at the conductor

And a// the others who wanted to te// the/r stor/es.

How they’d narrow/y escaped death.

About the ch/7dren, the men, the women that they had lost on the run.

The horr/f/c th/ngs they had seen. He cou/dn ’2‘ stand to hear /t anymore.

Don’t you dare say they’re sweet.

I hate them.

l’d turn them into mincemeat if I could.

They belong to two Americans, Amy and John Blumenberg.

They made a mad dash for the last plane to Washington.

Can’t say I blame them.

John’s a Jew. Like me.

They couldn’t take the dogs. I’m to bring them by ship.

In exchange they’ll vouch for me and I’ll get a visa.

So I’m stuck here waiting for a Mexican transit

and the damn veterinary certificate.

I designed their house.

Then he thought,

- “This /s Marse/Y/e. /t’s a port. ” -Look!

“And ports are places where stor/es are to/d, that’s what they’re there for

The peop/e here have every r/ght to te// stor/es’f

-After all... - “And to be //stened to. ”

I don’t want to stay in your Mexico...

I hate them. Them and their mutts.

That’s going too far. They’re trying to scare us.

-My life insurance. Shit. -This is mad.

813.

That’s you.

Yes.

Only the passport, thanks. You wanted?

-A visa? -A transit visa.

-To go to? -America.

What are you doing?

-These letters and this manuscript... -Your number, please.

This one?

What is your business here?

I am not the consul, I’m just here to categorize applications

and transfer them accordingly.

I’m here about the Weidel matter.

-Weide| the writer? -Yes.

-I am... -One moment, please.

The Consul is expecting you. If you would...

Your wife was just here.

The two visas. The ship passages.

A money order.

There’s a branch of Western Union on the Canebiere. Open round the clock.

You only have three weeks until your ship sails.

So hurry up and arrange for transits for the USA and Spain.

They’re building camps in Aix and Cassis, the cleansing will begin.

-Sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. -There is no direct passage to Mexico.

You need transits. Everyone’s afraid you’ll all stay.

What was your wife’s name again?

Your wife’s name.

You can hardly have forgotten your wife’s name.

She comes here almost every day to ask about you.

COME AT ONCE, MY LOVE...

MARIE

Marie.

Right. Marie.

She cried and cried.

She left me.

One thing interests me. It’s more of a question.

Who is the first to forget,

he who is left, or she who left him?

I’m interested in your opinion as a writer.

I can hardly remember her.

/t was on that arternoon that / first saw h/'m.

He ’0’ cashed the money order, was s/tt/ng at the W/I70’0W

eat/ng warm s//ces of Margher/ta

and dr/nk/ng a ch/Y/ed rose.

Outs/de, peop/e were wa/k/ng past carry/ng shopp/ng bags.

Fear and chaos wfl/ soon re/gn here,

and a// they can th/nk of /s go/ng shopp/ng, he sa/d

/ to/d him about a f/Vm In wh/ch zomb/es bes/ege a shopp/ng ma/l

“Yes’; he sa/d, “e ven the dead are lost for /deas. ”

Feel like playing?

I brought you something.

I can’t, I’m sick.

-Is your mama there? -She’s at work.

-Do you listen to the radio? -lt’s broken.

-Did it take a fall? -I don’t know.

Can you repair it?

I can try.

Will you help me?

So...

Okay...

Can you hold it? Like this?

Okay, and now...

hold it over the flame.

Not too close to the flame, where the temperature is lower.

Yes, that’s it.

l’m borrowing this for a bit.

Okay... A little this way...

Let’s check if it works.

Don’t hold your breath. Breathe easy.

Like playing football. Just breathe nice and calmly.

Now bring the spoon over...

A little closer. Yes, okay.

Back!

Okay... Looks good.

Then let’s have a look.

What’s wrong?

I know this song.

My mother sung me to sleep with it...

The codf/sh comes home

The e/ephant

Stomps home

The ant

Rushes home

The /anterns are //t

The day has flown

Mama’s asking ifthis is yourjob.

Yes.

I’m a trained radio and TV technician.

Did you complete your apprenticeship?

No.

The fascists got in the way of that.

Can you sing the song again?

Mama wants to watch you sing.

The butterfly

Comes home

The //tt/e bear

Comes home

The codf/sh

No, one second.

Sw/ms home

The /anterns are //t

The day has flown

Now comes the codfish.

The codf/sh

Sw/ms home

The e/ephant

Stomps home

The ant

Rushes home

The /anterns are //t

The day has flown

Fox and goose

Come home

Cat and mouse

Come home

Man and wife

Come home...

He broke ofif

/t knocked the wmd out ofh/m, as the say/ng goes.

He m/ght have cr/ed, he cou/d fee/ /t

Me//ssa and Dr/ss were /ook/ng at h/'m.

Dr/ss sa/d that /t was a/ready /ate and asked whether he wanted to s/eep over

He sa/d he had urgent bus/ness, then wa/ked through the n/ght to the hotel

He prom/sed to spend the fo//o WIng day with Dr/ss.

The song went round and round In h/s m/nd

A// are dream/ng Thoughts do roam

Ta/es are wea thg on the/r own

As the even/ng rests upon our home...

One second.

Papers. And residence permit.

-On the table. -Oh yes?

Then please show them to us.

We’re in a hurry. Get on with it.

He saw the woman, as /'f snufi‘ed out.

He heard the screams of her husband and ch/7dren.

He saw the others watch/ng //ke h/'m.

Were they w/thout p/ty?

Re/feved that /t Wash ’2‘ them?

He not/ced the woman with the dogs In one of the doorways.

The/r gazes met

They /ooked at each other for a /ong Instant.

Then averted the/r eyes.

And he knew what was mak/ng everyone so st/7/ and hushed'

/t was shame.

They were ashamed Terr/b/y ashamed

The next day he went and p/cked Dr/ss up,

who /ed him to a dusty fa/rground by the sea.

Mama and l are heading for the mountains. Will you join us?

If you manage...

If you manage to shoot the can into the drain,

we’ll go and train.

The drain there?

-Uh-huh. -Okay.

Wait up. We don’t want it to be too easy.

Supporting leg...

-Shit! -Nah...

You get another go.

No, wait, you’re too close. Back up a bit. Yes...

A chocolate sundae.

l have something to take care of. H! be right back, okay?

Where are you going?

Across the street. To the place with the flag.

It won’t take long.

I’ll be right back.

Want a bite to eat?

Yes.

Why didn’t you try to get a visa for the United States?

Many of your colleagues did.

You were afraid your application for a visa would be rejected.

Am I right?

The series of articles in the NewFront/er

about the shooting of unionists in Almeria with the help ofthe ClA.

You had a part in it.

No.

The NewFront/er is a communist paper.

I had no part in it.

Why Mexico?

-You think they welcome communists? -I said I had no part in it.

What draws you to Mexico?

What will you live from?

I’ll try to practice a trade.

What trade would that be?

Radio and TV technician.

-You don’t want to write about all this? -No.

But it’s what writers do.

When I was a small boy,

I often went on school outings.

Some were great.

But unfortunately...

the next day our teacher would have us write an essay:

“Our School Trip.”

And after the holidays, there was always an essay:

“What I did on Holiday.”

Or “The Best Part ofthe Holidays.”

And even after Christmas, the presents and festivities,

there’d always be the essay:

“My Christmas.”

At some point it felt like I was experiencing it all

just to write a school essay about it.

And for all the writers who were with me in the camps,

all the terrifying and horrific events

were only material for their writing.

The camp. The escape.

Death.

The war.

I won’t be writing any more school essays.

That’s a weighty confession from a man such as you.

He’s not moving.

Sorry.

Don’t like it?

Want something else?

Do you want to leave?

For America?

For Mexico.

When?

On the 23rd.

Aboard the Montrea/.

We could have ice cream somewhere else. At the port, say.

Or we go work on your support leg.

And then he not/ced that the boy was cry/ng

And how he was try/ng to ho/d back the tears.

l have to flee.

He saw the exert/on and wanted to embrace and conso/e the boy,

exp/a/n to him why he had to /ea ve.

You can all go fuck yourselves!

How’s the conductor?

He didn’t make it.

Can you buy me a meal?

-Sorry? -Can you buy me a meal?

The dogs are eating me out of house and home, I’m broke.

I thought the vet’s certificate would come sooner...

Wait here.

The woman had given me a note. She was apparent/y deaf and dumb.

I’ll go...

Many refugees try to earn a //tt/e money with such th/ngs.

They put notes and //tt/e toys on the customers’ tab/es

and ask for a donation.

But th/s woman was /ook/ng for a doctor for her son,

and hoped to find one among the Germans.

And or?“ he went He asked around among the refugees.

He very qu/ck/y found a doctor In a hotel at the port.

A ped/atr/c/an from Kassel

-Hello. -Yes?

I understand there’s a doctor here.

One second.

It’s for you.

-We urgently need a doctor. -Who is we?

A boy. About eight years old.

-What’s wrong? -I don’t know.

-He’s having trouble breathing. -Why not go to the emergency room?

He’s illegal. He and his mother.

-And you are not? -No, I am, too.

-Is it far? -Ten minutes.

One second, I’ll get my bag.

-|’ll see you later. -Yes.

-Was it something he ate? -I don’t know.

I haven’t seen him since yesterday.

I’m not his father.

He’s a friend’s son.

The friend died. Not long ago.

-His mother is deaf and dumb. -What’s the boy’s name?

-Driss. -An African?

Driss is asthmatic.

Try to breathe deep into your stomach.

You can get dressed again.

Were you outside a lot recently?

You have to spend a few days here in bed.

Tell your mother to make you something good.

Do you have a favorite dish?

No, there must be something you particularly like, right?

Pancakes, maybe?

Maybe your mother can make you some.

l’ll fetch her.

Would you come here?

Only his mother.

He’s had a bad attack of asthma.

He has to remain in bed.

These are some drops to be taken three times daily after meals.

The Mistral is not good for him.

Mama and l are going to the mountains.

The mountains will do you good.

-What did you do to the boy? -Excuse me?

You must have done something for him to refuse to see you...

or even let you into his room.

I’m leaving him behind.

-You aren’t going into the mountains? -No.

And he’d hoped you’d go with them in his father’s place.

And why aren’t you going with them?

I’m leaving for Mexico.

What?

What?

I want to go there, too.

So why don’t you?

-Are you still missing documents? -No, I’ve got them all.

-When does your ship sail? -On Tuesday.

So what is the problem?

l have to leave someone behind, too.

-Who? -A woman.

May | buy you a meal?

We could have gotten away three weeks back.

You didn’t need a damn visa or transit back then.

It was all arranged, I had the ship passages.

We were almost gone, the anchor was being weighed, as they say.

Then she disembarked

and I followed.

And now you can’t leave.

I can.

l have a visa. The transits. And a passage.

The Esperanza sails on Tuesday. At 21 :00 hours, from wharftwelve.

Via Lisbon and Montevideo.

I got the transits for Portugal and Uruguay today.

And you will embark?

This will go to hell in two weeks.

They’re already in Lyon, as you probably know.

And you mean to leave her behind?

l have to set up a hospital. They’re expecting me.

It’s myjob. I can’t wait any longer.

-And does she know? -I told her.

l have to go. People in need are waiting.

-She knows it. -| see.

Yes. | see.

You have a bad conscience and want my blessing.

I doubt you’re capable of giving blessings.

Or even comfort.

Did you find him?

-Here. Have a bite to eat. -Thanks.

Go on.

You’re the man who needed a doctor.

Yes... I am.

The gentleman here has made up his mind.

He’s going to Mexico and leaving a little boy here.

What the hell?

You made your decision. Or am I missing something?

You love the boy, it’s obvious.

I noticed how hurt you were when he wouldn’t have you in his room.

-You love him yet you’re abandoning him. -He is not my son.

What difference does that make? She is not my wife.

He heard her footfa//,

the ch/m/ng doorbe//, then she van/shed Into the n/ght.

He /e/t the Mont l/entoux soon alter

As he turned back, he saw the doctor s/tt/ng at h/s tab/e, for/orn.

The doctor seemed to be cry/ng

Then he returned to h/s hote/,

to h/s own /one//ness.

It’s Georg.

From yesterday evening.

He isn’t here.

You can wait. He’ll be back soon.

-Tea? -Gladly.

-Where is he, then? -He went back to the boy.

Has something happened to Driss?

No. He’s just double-checking.

He’s a good doctor. A great one.

Do you know a good second-hand shop in Marseille?

-What are you looking for? -Nothing. I’m selling.

Have you run out of money?

That, too.

He might be late.

He will probably go and confirm his passage, too.

So he’s leaving?

Yes. He really is.

And you’re staying?

What choice do l have?

Do you want to leave?

He told me you almost left once. What was it he said?

The anchor had been weighed as she disembarked.

-Or something like that. -Yes.

But now you would stay on board?

What changed?

Everything.

Who is the first to forget:

he who is left, or she who left him?

What do you think?

-He has forgotten me. -Who?

My husband.

How do you know?

The Consul told me.

What Consul?

The Mexican one.

-Had he suspected it? -I said we had to go.

-He sat with her, //stened.. -He was smoking, writing, drinking.

as she to/d how she ’d /e/t her husband ..

-The Germans were at the city gates. In Par/s,

-and had got Into the doctor’s car -...I met him there.

-And fled the Germans. -It was easy to get in the car with him,

and to write my husband a good-bye letter.

A final one.

- She ’d /ooked for him In Marse/Y/e. .. -And he’s here.

at the Mex/can Oonsu/ate, In front of the Amer/can one.

On the Oaneb/ere.

At the Mont l/entoux

Her desperate, po/nt/ess search.

I’ve been looking ever since.

-And everyone had just seen h/'m. had just seen him.

-At the Western Un/on. -The Mexican...

- The Amer/can Consu/, the Mex/can one. -|’m always too late.

They say that those who’ve been left never forget. But it’s not true.

They have the sweet, sad songs. Pity is with them.

Those who leave, no one is with them.

They have no songs.

Marie!

He did not forget you.

He’s hiding from me.

Why did you disembark back then?

Did you want to go back to him?

I don’t know.

Why are you looking for him, then?

He has my visa.

I can’t get away without him.

I wrote him a letter, an acquaintance brought it to him in Paris.

In it I wrote that he should come to Marseille,

that our visas are here.

He received the letter.

I know he did.

Do you love the doctor?

I will take care of you.

Who are you?

-What are you doing here? -I wanted to see you.

Ah, yes?

The boy is feeling better. The cortisone has taken effect.

He’ll be playing again in two or three days.

You bought rucksacks.

And hiking boots.

What you’re planning is insane.

-And what am | planning? -You mean to cross the Pyrenees with her.

Have you already sold your passage?

Have you already sold your passage?

I can get Marie a visa and a passage to Mexico.

You can go ahead.

I’ll follow you with Marie.

On the 23rd. Aboard the Montrea/.

Do tell us how much you want. Five thousand?

But let’s say you’ll need two thousand in advance.

You have functionaries to bribe.

But you have great contacts, were lucky to have met you.

I don’t want a thing.

That answer makes you less plausible.

Now please leave.

I need Marie’s date of birth and so on.

We meet at Mont Ventoux at 2:00 pm.

I’ll bring the visa and passage.

He sa/d he /ooked through the W/I70’0W and saw Mar/e and R/chard ..

and then she had /ooked up as If she knew he was stand/ng there,

and she sm/Yed

Later they sat together

-Visa, passage. -He had the v/sa and the passage,

and R/chard was m/strustfu/ and went to the port author/t/es

to have the passage checked

-|’m having this checked. -Yes. Do that.

The two of them sat there and wa/ted One m/ght have taken them for /o vers.

/ saw they were ho/d/ng hands.

/a/so saw that Mar/e was cry/ng

He /ater sa/d that with Mar/e he never knew

/fhers were tears of joy or despa/r

/ saw that he k/ssed her And / saw that she /et herse/f be k/ssed

Then Richard came back They ordered pizza and Wine.

And ce/ebrated pro visiona//y, as Richard put it,

because the transits for Spain and the US were st/i/ missing

-When does your ship sail? -On the 23rd.

-Ofthis month? -I doubt there’ll be a ship next month.

You should have applied for your wife’s transit at once.

-It will be very tricky... -Just enter her in the section marked:

“Person accompanying the transit-applicant”.

Are you telling me how to do myjob?

You are peculiar.

For wanting to emigrate with my wife?

You didn’t want to a few days ago.

You spoke of real work

and the parasitic nature of writers.

How it repulses you.

And now you speak to me oftrue love?

The two of you in Mexico, a little house, a garden.

You come back from work, and your wife,

whom I had the pleasure to meet

and who is extremely gracious...

she’ll be sitting there...

chopping herbs for dinner.

You’ll watch her sitting there

-among the bushes playing in the wind... -Perhaps you should be the writer.

You’ll be able to collect the documents in a few days on production ofthis.

Thanks.

One last question.

What was the last thing you wrote?

A man had died.

He was to register in hell.

He waited in front of a large door.

He waited a day, two.

He waited weeks. Months. Then years.

Finally a man walked past him.

The man waiting addressed him,

“Perhaps you can help me. I’m supposed to register in hell.”

The other man looks him up and down, says,

“But sir, this here is hell.”

Richard didn ’2‘ want her to accompany him to the ship, but Marie insisted

Richard shook Georg’s hand,

then he/d the door for Marie as ifit were she who was /eav/ng.

He to/d me that he then went upstairs to wait for Marie.

The bott/e of Wine they’d drunk by way of fare we// was st/i/ on the table.

He sat down, drank again a/one.

He smoked He waited

He went to the Window Opened it

And then he saw her coming

Wait a little.

Come.

Come.

I’m sorry.

For what?

What are you sorry for?

I’m not coming with you.

I can’t go with you. I’m staying here.

So what was the point of all this?

I wanted Richard to sail.

He has to go to Mexico.

And you?

I’m searching for my husband.

Georg.

Wait.

Wait.

Marie, your husband is dead.

No.

He isn’t.

He said that Richard had a/ready been on board

when a group of French o/ficers had c/aimed the cabins for themse/ves

and he and a few others were forced to disembark

He had /istened to Richard and his depressing story.

Marie had sat down with Richard to conso/e him.

He was inconso/ab/e, comp/ete/y destroyed

He, Georg was st/i/ standing at the Window

it seemed to him that he had been standing there a// evening

He had /e/t at some point. Le/t them there on the bed

He cou/dn ’t remember hoW he had taken his /ea ve.

He had /ooked at Marie once more. He said she didn ’2‘ return his gaze.

Then he had Wa/ked through the night, f/na/iy gone to his hotei

There he /ay and thought that in a feW days he wou/d be gone.

Then the evening song he had sung to Driss came to mind

He had never before fe/t so co/d

Driss?

It’s me.

Good morning.

I’m looking for Melissa and Driss.

But this is their apartment?

They’re gone.

-Where did they go? -Far away.

When did they leave?

Thanks.

Excuse me.

Sorry.

May | invite you to dinner?

Thanks.

-Your health. -Yes.

Your health.

-Where are your dogs? -They’re gone.

They ran away?

They’re dead.

-|’m sorry. ldidn’t know... -I don’t want a conversation.

I simply want to eat and drink and not be alone.

He said that she had him ro// her a cigarette,

paid the Waiter aiter the coifee, and they’d Wa/ked into the evening

Rudy Ricciotti was the architect...

And that they did speak aiter a//, about an architect,

Ricciotti

Whose footbridge so br/i/iant/y connects the Panier district With the o/d fort.

Of hoW she ’d /ooked forward to being in Marse/i/e because of it

and the blocks he had coated with patterned concrete.

From the inside you can see out through them. It’s beautiful.

Can I have one, too?

They smoked together

He said hoW he fe/t so at ease in that moment,

he cou/d forget Marie, everything Was quiet and c/ear

He spent the last days, oiten /ay/ng there in his room, Waiting.

He said that a// he noW Wanted Was to be gone.

He on/y went out at night.

He saw Richard once, Who seemed comp/ete/y desperate.

He said he hid //ke a coward

He said he Was afraid of meeting Marie.

Then he packed

/t Was the last evening

The fo//o Wing aiternoon he Was to embark and disappear

At last I’ve found you.

Everyone turned to /ook at them.

This passionate embrace seemed to make my patrons a /itt/e aggressive.

Fo/k don ’t //ke other peop/e ’s /o y When the y’re suifer/ng misfortune.

The mood in the Mont l/entoux Was somber

A vignon Was/ust being c/eansed, as they ca// it

The camps were fu// and the deportations beginning

Now they were advancing towards Marse/i/e.

He /ater to/d me she repeated/y Whispered that he shou/d take her With him.

That she had been so afraid she might not find him anymore.

Then they went to his, she didn ’2‘ Want to go back to hers.

She a/ready had everything, she said, pointing at her trave/ bag

I am so thirsty.

| only have water.

That’s fine.

He said she sat beside him on the bed, exhausted,

and asked for a g/ass of Water

Later, in front of the bathroom mirror,

he again thought of the unfortunate writer, her husband,

and Wanted to te// her everything

When he went back in, he found her /y/ng on the bed

He /ooked at her, so ca/m and gent/e and peacefui

/t Was the first time he ’0’ seen her //ke that.

She must’ve been Wa/k/ng about for days and nights on end

Day broke, they had to go to the consu/ate and then quick/y embark

I’ll be right back.

He said that he didn ’t doubt for a moment that he wou/d get the documents in time.

They st/i/ had three hours before the ship Was to sail

He saw Marie down there, the morning sun Was fa///ng on the corner,

and she Was shie/d/ng her eyes With a hand

Suddenly he remembered Driss,

Who had sat there, too, in front of an ice cream he hadn ’t touched

Yes.

Then his name Was ca//ed

Marie!

To the port, please.

It’s like going Christmas shopping in New York.

-You’ve been to New York? -Yes.

He bought me the coat there.

-Richard? -No, my husband.

He’ll be standing at the railing and looking back at the harbor.

He sits backwards on trains, too.

-Yes. . . -Yes!

What railing?

The ship’s one.

What ship?

Our ship. The Montreai.

What makes you think he’ll be aboard the Montreai?

The Mexican told me.

You went back to the Consulate?

lmagine his face...

when he’s standing at the railing,

and l whisper his name and he turns round to me.

He won’t be standing at the railing.

He will.

He’ll be there.

And he’ll forgive me.

I know him. He’ll laugh and forgive me.

You’ll like him.

This is your passage.

And...

You still have to fill in the number here.

This is the transit.

-Okay? -Thanks.

Take care of it.

Pull over, please.

What’s wrong?

| forgot something.

Georg...

-Is it important? -|’|l be right there.

Hello?

Hello...

Richard?

What is it you want now?

-Shouldn’t you be embarking? -l have a passage for you.

Pack only bare essentials.

I don’t understand.

He said that Richard had stared at him

and he knew he ’0’ have to make up a story pretty quick

There Was no time for the truth. So he asked Richard for money.

Richard asked no questions, gave him the money.

Five thousand A/most a// the cash he had

He handed him the passage and Richard hurried down to the street,

and he stood up at the Window With Richard be/oW

Waiting for the taxi

And When it arrived, Richard /ooked up once more,

and Was there not a /itt/e contempt in his eyes?

Richard thought he Was a tout, a human-traificker,

someone Who profited from the misfortune of refugees.

He /ooked out to sea.

Fina/iy the ship ’s horn sounded

And then he saw the Montreal out at sea.

He carried on Waiting even aiter it had vanished over the hor/Zon.

He /ooked at me With weary eyes.

-He sm/ied -|’m boring you.

-He asked ifhe Was boring me. -What will you do now?

l have money.

The doctors hiking boots fit me.

I’ll try to make it over the Pyrenees.

You yourself said it’s insane.

ls Avignon occupied?

Yes.

Can I leave this with you?

Of course.

Marie...

-Excuse me... -Yes?

A lady was supposed to sail yesterday on the Montreai.

I wanted to ask you if you could...

Karim...

Do number 12. And hurry, we don’t have much time.

Could you check the passenger list to see if she really sailed?

-Her name is? -Marie... Weidel.

W-e...

E. W-e-i-d-e-l.

-Marie Weidel. -Marie Weidel.

-Yes. -Yes?

She was on board.

“Was” on board?

l’m terribly sorry.

Normally we’d deal with the relatives. But...

You know, they’re at the city gates, the raids will have begun.

What are you talking about?

-I thought you knew... -Thought I knew what?

The Montrea/ hit a mine this morning just offthe Balearic Islands.

lt sank. There were no survivors.

My condolences.

He sat With his back to the door..

and gave a start every time the door opened

He seemed to be W/i/ing himse/f not to turn his head,

not to /ook up at the mirror

And yet he did Every time.

Marie might turn up

the Way castaways come ashore aiter some miracu/ous rescue.

Or the Way a dead person ’s shade might be torn from the underwor/d

by sacrifice and ardent prayer

/ tried to Warn him, oifered him a p/ace to hide.

The c/eans/ng had begun that morning.

But he stayed sitting at the bar

Waiting

for her