Original subtitles

Angèle.

Didn't you find that restful?

Do you know what it is?

The trio in A minor by Tchaikovsky. Now, you're going to say, Governor ...

Tchaikovsky, isn't that a bit insipid or sentimental?

And yes, Vermeersch, that's often the case with Tchaikovsky.

But not with this piece. Because he wrote this trio

for his old teacher, who'd just died.

Right.

Anyway, Vermeersch, what music do you like?

All music, Governor. – That's not possible.

Because everyone has a type of music they like most.

And it's consistent with their blood group.

That surprises you, doesn't it?

Angèle, give me Georges Vermeersch's file.

I, for example, am blood group AB.

And so I need restful music. But you ...

Georges Vermeersch, born in Markegem in 1920 ...

See? Blood group O.

You need cheerful music.

Something like Presley.

You're nothing but a hound dog, crying all the time.

Right.

Vermeersch, I wish you all the best.

Governor, may I ...

I'd like to go and say goodbye to Jules the customs officer.

To Jules? Of course, my dear friend. No problem.

Van Belleghem. Van Belleghem. – Yes, boss?

Take Vermeersch to the infirmary.

Well, glad to see the back of us? – Yes.

How's your daughter?

Fine.

And leave her alone, now, eh?

Now what? – I've come to see Jules.

Well, go and see Jules.

Jules isn't here. He's not home. Now what?

Did I hear something?

Jules! – Ah, there he is.

Don't be scared, Jules. Your friend Georges has come to see you.

Hello, Jules.

You're looking well.

I can go home, Jules,

but I'll come and see you in the next few days.

And when you get out, you must come and visit me, too.

You've got my address, haven't you? Zonnestraat in Markegem.

We'll have a good time.

But Jules has a better time here with us. Eh, Jules?

Take care.

Are those the Ardennes?

Thanks, Jules.

You're an artist.

I'll hang it up in the living room, above the sideboard.

It'll look good there.

Marke.

D'you want to go to Marke for five francs?

How much does it cost, then? – 8 francs, has for some time.

Thank you.

Christiane, tell me, who do you love best, your mummy or your daddy?

Hey, Georges, don't you say hello these days?

Hello, Marie. – Hello, Georges.

Jeanne.

It's you. You made me jump. – Yes.

I caught the 4 o'clock train.

You're not on holiday. You don't have to ...

I'm home for good.

Right. Why didn't you send a card or let me know?

I didn't know either. They always tell you unexpectedly.

Look, this is her.

Our little Elisabeth.

Her spots will disappear in about three weeks.

Beautiful, isn't she?

She's OK.

Wait. Just a minute.

You've put on weight. Was the food there that good?

Lots of bread, lots of potatoes.

Cheers. – Cheers.

Have you just come from his place?

Yes.

What are we going to do about all this?

It's up to you.

What does he say about it, your wonderful Erik ?

He'll agree to whatever you want. – It's not about what I want,

but about what he wants.

What does he want? – To marry me.

To go and live somewhere else.

In Kortrijk.

With Elisabeth. – With who?

With Elisabeth. That's what our child's called.

Why couldn't I come and visit you in prison?

Your own wife.

Are you hungry? – No, not at the moment.

You need time to get used to it.

I'll never get used to it.

Never?

No.

That's a shame.

If you hadn't used a legal aid lawyer, the outcome would've been different.

He wasn't a bad lawyer.

That whippersnapper? Was he a real lawyer?

Nothing could be done, anyway.

Everyone was against me.

I wasn't, Georges.

No, you weren't. That's true.

It has been established beyond doubt that she,

the underage Christiane Vermeersch, has admitted

that she had sexual intercourse with her father, Georges Vermeersch.

Sexual intercourse with his daughter?

Your worship, how can that man say that about our Georges?

He has worked hard all his life.

He's never looked at another woman, let alone his daughter.

I know Georges very well. He's my best friend.

But you knew what was being said about the accused and his daughter?

But you hear so much, Your Worship. About everyone.

As for Georges and Christiane, I didn't watch their every move, did I?

Are you Christiane Vermeersch,

born in Ronse on 5th September 1942?

Yes.

And daughter of the accused, Georges Vermeersch?

Yes.

I think it's got a lot to do with Jeanne.

Because she's going through the change.

A man like Georges, in the prime of his life, needs something else.

Something younger, eh?

So what was going on was general knowledge?

Your Worship, we in Zonnestraat,

we often spoke about it.

And we agreed something was going on between Georges and his daughter

that wasn't right.

What do you mean, wasn't right?

Something that wasn't right.

Hello, Zulma. – Hello, Georges.

Georges, you look so tired.

Yes, Georges looks so tired. Let's pamper him.

Come with me, young man.

I say, Jeanne, those two think a lot of each other.

It's awful. Just like two lovers.

Of course I said that. Just like two lovers.

But I was joking. – Joking.

They always twist your words. They lie.

You should release Georges, Your Worship.

He didn't lay a finger on our Christiane.

She's a slut.

The whole of Kortrijk has been on top of her, apart from the tram.

Mr Zeebrechts, there's no reason to laugh.

But why would your daughter make such a serious allegation?

I don't know either, Your Worship. Why did she say it?

Why does she say it to all and sundry?

On 12th June of this year Christiane Vermeersch

was in trouble with the law for the first time because of a theft

in the Delhaize supermarket.

Let me go, let me go.

Her house was then searched by the police,

by inspectors Boenders and Devree.

And, have you found anything, inspector?

You, you can keep your mouth shut.

Christiane Vermeersch, born on 5th September 1943.

Yes, and? – And?

That means this girl, this beautiful girl, is underage.

You're not allowed to have it off with a girl under sixteen.

Yes, but ... – What?

I'm not the only one. – Of course not.

How many of lads like this do you see each day?

A couple a day? More?

And how much do you make, per go?

I only sleep with one, him.

And he says he's not the only one. – That was before his time.

You started early, young woman.

And I thought she was still a virgin.

I wasn't her first. – No?

You should ask her father about that. – No ...

Was your father the first one? – Yes, so?

If you go and live in Kortrijk with Erik,

with his child ... – Yes?

Christiane can come and live with you.

Christiane?

Yes.

Where's she living now? – In Guido Gezellestraat.

What's she doing there? – She's still with Jacky.

He works there, in Anderlecht, for the post office.

And is she OK? – She's fine, I think.

She often asks after you.

Yeah, right. – She does.

Say I'm not in.

Hello, has he gone to bed already? – No, we're watching television.

Hello, Georges. – Hello, Alex.

I thought, I'll go and see Georges.

Here lad, this is for you. It's Bokma.

Thanks, Alex.

I say, Jeanne, what's the matter with your TV?

What do you mean? – The picture is jumping.

It is supposed to. It's a modern film. – Oh?

It's nice to see you again. I've taken good care of your wife.

True or not true, Jeanne? – Alex, please.

If she needed something, Alex was always there for her.

Alex, you should go.

What do you mean? – You've no business being here.

And Erik has, I suppose.

Fine, if that's how you want it.

I can see I'm not welcome here.

Goodbye, Jeanne. – Bye, Alex.

You scum!

Look at me.

They should cut the dick off men like you.

Georges.

I realise that we can't live together.

We're not the kind of people to ...

Are we?

Do you agree?

You've got a new bloke.

A young man. One who looks after you in bed.

Fine. Take him, and the child and everything.

Leave me alone.

You can move in with him.

When do you want me to move out?

There's no hurry.

I have to tell Erik.

Oh yes, Erik, true. You have to tell Erik.

Do you know what you have to tell that Erik of yours?

That he should have bloody well looked after my garden.

He could fertilize my wife,

but not my beautiful garden ...

Incidentally,

does Erik pay for his child? – He paid the hospital bill.

And he pays for the crèche.

And is he good? – At what?

In bed. Is he good?

He's young.

Younger than me, you mean. – But he is younger. So what?

So ...

You're happy.

He hasn't known me for that long. It's all still new.

So ...

He's good at it.

Does he do it often?

More often than I used to?

A lot more often.

Here your are. This is for you.

For me?

Soir de Paris. You remembered.

Thank you, Georges.

From money for sticking bags together.

25 francs a day.

The others buy sardines and bananas and chocolate in the canteen, but ...

It's OK. It's Erik.

Come in.

Well?

Well?

You ... Christ.

About time.

Sit down.

Well, well, well.

Want a dram, Erik? – No thanks.

Give me a glass of wine, Jeanne. – Wine? Have we got wine?

Something else that's new. – He can't take spirits.

Excuse me. – Spirits make me itch.

One glass makes me itch all over.

So. You waited a while before you came round.

What did you think?

I'll give Georges an hour or so to back on his feet?

Something like that.

What do you think of my garden?

Georges, I ... – You miserable son–of–a–bitch!

Have you seen my garden?

All my vegetables are bloody ruined. There are weeds everywhere.

I wanted to do it.

Didn't I say, we have to do his garden before he comes home?

Yes, you did.

It's not my fault. You're back too early.

I can go straight back to prison, if you like.

I can make sure I get life, if you like.

Go on then, try it.

Georges.

Georges, don't. – Stop it. Don't be so stupid.

Shit yourself, did you Erik?

It was a close thing. – Sit down.

We can't talk like this, Georges.

Jeanne. – Yes, Georges?

Give him a glass of his wine.

Cheers. – Cheers. To your return home.

Cheers.

Anyone hungry? – I am. I'm starving.

What is there? – Steak tartare.

Did you have a cell to yourself? – Yes.

At least, one time a lot of people were brought in.

Then it was three to a cell.

Never two, always three.

I understand.

But what two can do, three can do too, eh Georges?

What are you supposed to do at a time like that?

What would you do? – Me, at a time like that?

I wouldn't care. A woman, a man, a cabbage.

Thanks a lot.

I mean, at a time like that, when you're at the end of your tether.

What you said wasn't very nice. For Jeanne.

Georges, take some. – No, not for me. Thanks.

Why not? – Don't you want any steak tartare?

I've read about it, too. Apparently, you should eat steak tartare immediately.

Within three minutes of it being minced.

After that it's full of worms. More and more worms every second.

They multiply. – That's not why.

I don't eat meat. – Since when?

It's Friday today. – So it is.

I've got some rollmops. – Fine.

Georges, you'll have to forgive me. I know it's Friday,

but I prefer steak tartare.

You should have a serious talk. – Right.

You start. – No, you start.

Me? – You started it, with Jeanne.

I started it. – Actually, at the same time.

When?

What day was it? What time was it? – Hmmn, what time was it?

It was a Friday, at a quarter to five.

At the funeral of Charel from the fish shop.

What, has Charel died? – Yes, of liver cancer.

I'd never have thought it. Such a big strong man.

Yes, it happened really quickly.

It happened really quickly.

I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.

Maurice, Maurice.

My only brother. – Yes.

They cut him open.

They took a look at his liver and sewed him up again quick.

Right. You were at his funeral.

Then we went to have something to eat. By the Scheldt, at Léon's.

And then?

Then we had a drink together.

You know how it goes. – No, I don't know how it goes.

Stop it, Erik. At my age. – Age? What age?

Jeanne, the best wines improve with age.

And then we went home. – To yours or ours?

To yours.

Look, if hadn't been me it would've been someone else.

Would you've preferred Alex to be sitting here? Or Vandercam?

I wouldn't have expected it of you.

Especially as you're for big tits. I remember you saying.

They should be slim–hipped but at the top a man should have his hands full.

And in Jeanne's case, that's just the opposite.

I don't know about that. Can't a man change his mind?

His mind, yes, but not his taste.

Right.

Then you can take Jeanne with you.

And her clothes, her child and everything.

And we won't say another word. OK?

If that's what you want. OK.

What do you think about that?

Well, what do you think?

Say what you think. Now.

You can't take your drink anymore. – What?

You haven't had a drink for so long and now your drinking it like water.

Here, Erik, take her with you. Make another child.

Hey, I'm not some doormat that you can just walk all over.

Yes you are. A wet and dirty one.

Bloody hell. You bastards.

Georges, listen.

I'm listening.

I felt so sad when they locked you up.

I couldn't eat.

Really.

Jeanne loves you.

What about you?

I love her, too.

Really.

What a state of affairs, eh?

Right, bye. – Bye.

Hey, Patrick.

Come on. Go on, Dad, it's a slow dance.

What's the matter? – Nothing.

Can I take that?

Patrick, your beer. – Yes, just a minute.

Is it serious? – Yes, very serious.

Is it? – Yes.

When he's not there, I sob all night long.

Liar.

True. I don't care whether he's there or not.

You're still a child.

Me, Dad?

You'll get drunk. – So?

D'you want some more? – No, thank you.

Could you get spirits in prison?

Sundays? Holidays?

In C block they once made gin from rotten potatoes.

And alcohol from the infirmary.

There were four of them.

In the morning they were all taken to the infirmary.

All four almost went blind,

permanently.

Do you think that's funny? – Yes. Don't you?

Does Erik tell better jokes?

Listen when I talk to you. – I prefer to listen to the TV.

It's as much my TV as yours.

I'm going to bed. – The button's stuck. It's broken.

You've pushed it in too far, you're too violent. My TV's broken.

It's a bit stuck. – Idiot, that's for the sound.

Keep your hands off it. – Bloody stupid thing!

Have you gone mad? Mad! Mad!

You rotten bastard!

Go on, do it. Kill me. Then it's over.

Go on, Georges.

Go on, please.

You're the one, Georges, no one else.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Don't you feel like it?

No.

Why not?

I suppose it's too long ago.

It's the drink.

What a state of affairs.

You're the one who's got to choose. – Yes.

You've got to do something. It's either one or the other.

Either Erik or Georges. – I don't know.

I want to stop you, Jeanne,

but I don't want to force you.

I'm going to call a spade a spade. You're married with two children.

And Erik ... I'm not taking his side because he's at fault, too.

But Erik has to lead his own life.

I don't want to leave. – No.

But you won't stop me?

No.

I want to, there's nothing I'd rather do,

but there's no point.

Whether you want or not, you're tied to him.

Me? – Yes.

Me? – Yes.

You don't realise,

but when he's there, I cease to exist for you.

That's not true. – It is. Admit it.

It's not true.

Do you want me to help?

Damn.

Wait a minute.

When is Mum coming home? – Tomorrow.

Yes, but what time?

3 o'clock.

So we're here on our own until 3 o'clock tomorrow.

Are you scared of being alone with me?

You don't need to be scared, Georges.

I'm not scared.

Not of you, not of anyone.

You need to clean your ears.

Do I look like my mother?

No.

I don't look like you, either.

I've got your hands, Georges.

You made me.

Without you I wouldn't exist.

I'm yours.

No!

He's going to Rouen.

Tomorrow morning, by train.

He says we must get it over and done with.

What's he going to do in Rouen? – He's got a job as a porter.

In a nightclub? – No, in Hôtel d'Angleterre.

He speaks good French.

He knows his world. He comes across well.

And he just came out and said that?

Bye, Jeanne. Thanks. I'm off to France.

I've screwed you ...

Legs open, legs shut. I'm off. Bye.

I'm going to throw myself in the canal.

Jeanne.

Do you know what I want?

A bath.

A bath?

In prison I had a bath three or four times a week.

Or rather, a shower.

Well, after a while you enjoy it.

If I had money, I'd put one in here.

Where?

There.

From here to here.

Bring the water pipe through from the kitchen.

Knock down that wall and drain away the water over there.

We could take a bath together. – Yes.

It would be done tidily.

There was a man in prison who refused to take a bath.

No matter what they tried, he wouldn't have a bath.

Why not? – I don't know.

He'd gone mad. He couldn't take being in prison.

His name was Jules.

We called him Jules the customs officer. That's what he was.

Why was he doing time, your customs officer?

Because of sex. – Sex?

Oh, I see.

Yes, like me.

Is he still inside, this customs officer? – Yes.

They gave him the maximum sentence.

Not just because of the sex but also because he wore a uniform.

A civil servant.

Jules. – Yes, boss?

Can you see what I see?

Where, boss? – There.

No, boss. – At the edge of the cornfield.

Oh yes, a Cadillac. – Go on, Jules.

What's all this? – Good morning.

What are you doing here? – Good morning.

Good morning, but ...

Look who we've got here. – Hello, Jules.

Out of the car, you. Go on, quickly.

You too, Solange. Come on.

Come on.. What's going on?

Nothing. I'm camping here with my fiancé.

Is that your fiancé?

What's that?

Hey, Mustapha. Where are you going?

What is all this, Solange? – Nothing.

Well?

Pose of the month?

Solange, you know this sort of thing is forbidden in Belgium.

You won't report us, will you? – I'll have to.

Please, Jules. – Calm down.

You don't need to get wound up.

If my father hears about this he'll be furious.

We can always talk about it.

We can talk about it now.

André.

Yes, boss.

What do you think?

Nice, I think. Are you going to hang it up here?

No, it's one of those paintings ... You can't hang that up in your house.

Nice colours.

Jules painted at least twenty like that.

We said, 'We won't call you Jules the customs officer but Jules Picasso.'

You can see he's suffering.

That's because Jules suffered when he painted it.

The psychiatrist said, 'Jules, you've got to paint at least two a week.'

And Jules did his best. Sometimes he even painted three a week.

The psychiatrist said that Jules painted himself.

And did it help him? – No, on the contrary.

Is it going to take much longer? – Sit still.

I'm starting to get cramp. – Shut up.

Georges, what's the time? – Quarter past three.

Calm down, Jules. – Leave me alone.

Stop. Enough.

Calm down, or they'll send you to the loony bin.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't do it again.

Cigar?

Thanks, Georges. Thanks.

At it again, Jules? Come on, come with us.

Don't be stupid. – He's OK.

Come on, Jules, to the infirmary. – Leave him. He's no trouble.

Don't interfere.

No, no, don't. Georges.

In your cell. Now. Have you gone deaf? Or do you want to go to C block?

Jeanne. – Yes, Georges?

Jeanne, go and get Erik.

Now?

He's in bed. – Go and get him, I said.

Why?

Do as I say.

No?

But ...

Christ. It's you, Georges.

What's the matter? – Nothing. I've got something to say.

There's nothing to say. Everything's arranged.

She's staying with you and I'm leaving for Rouen tomorrow.

I know, but ... Open the door.

Georges, how are you? You're looking well.

I'm OK, Ernest. – Right.

The evenings are chilly. – It's that time of year.

Right, I'm going back to bed. All the best, Georges.

Bye, Ernest.

Come in. – No, come to my house.

Why? – I need to tell you something.

Look, Erik, we need to ... – Yes?

We need to clear this up.

Isn't it clear enough, Georges?

Jeanne's staying with you and I'm going to France.

I've got a good job there.

And as for our child, I'll send a cheque every month.

No, I don't want that. I'll take care of that child myself.

Tomorrow I'll register it in my name.

But Georges, it's already in your name. – Is it?

Your child is nice looking. – She is, isn't she?

At first I was worried, because Jeanne is no longer young.

But it went well.

She was cross–eyed for the first two days.

But then her eyes straightened up.

Sit down, Erik.

Cigar? – No, thanks.

Something else? A dram? – No, thanks.

Jeanne.

Jeanne, come here.

Were you in bed already? – More or less.

Jeanne, sit here.

Look.

Since I've been home, no one has said anything

about that affair with Christiane.

You don't say anything, Erik. – You must admit it's sensitive.

Nor do you, Jeanne.

Yet you both know it's true.

It's true, what happened with Christiane ...

I did it. – I knew you did.

Yes, you did, didn't you? – You couldn't hide it.

When she came in the room, you looked away.

You didn't dare look at her. – And you didn't say anything.

Nothing.

What was I supposed to say?

And at the trial you lied and deceived the court.

Why?

For me? – No, for the pope in Rome.

How long did your relationship last?

It only happened once.

It's not the best thing you've ever done, Georges.

But OK, we won't keep on about it. It's over and done with.

Why did you get me out of bed in the middle of the night?

Give me a minute. – In that case ...

I think I'd like a glass of beer.

Me too.

Is that in oils? – Yes.

Someone in prison painted it.

Well, it's unusual.

The prison governor liked me.

One day I had to report to him.

Georges Vermeersch, he says.

Have you heard from your mother about a certain situation regarding your wife?

I said, 'She's not sick, is she?'

'She's not in hospital?'

And he starts laughing. 'She is,' he says. 'She is.'

She is, she is.

Vermeersch, you'll say, 'You're having me on.'

But I'm not, really. She is in hospital.

Georges, I have the honour to inform you

that your wife has had a baby. – A baby?

Has she had a baby with Erik?

Thanks. Thanks, Governor.

This is the best day of my life. Don't you understand?

Behave. – Yes, but ...

I did something wrong and I'm paying for it.

But so has she.

We're equal. We're quits.

There, there.

Why couldn't I come to the prison?

You were in hospital. – One week.

No, I thought to myself,

I have to leave her alone.

Now she's happy with that baby and the other man.

Now they're happy together.

Georges, what do you want?

Say it.

What I want ... – Yes?

Is for you to go upstairs with her.

Really! – Thanks a lot.

Well?

They've treated you badly in prison.

They've driven you crazy. – It's the only way to ...

We won't make it otherwise. The three of us.

Each of us.

You in Rouen, you will continue to long for her.

And she, with me, she will say,

'If only I could hold Erik again.'

We can't go on harbouring those feelings. It has to finish.

There has to be a last time. And that's now.

But very consciously.

So you know it's the last time.

Erik, come on.

Are you going?

Do you mean it? – I mean it.

What will you do meanwhile? – Wait.

Here? – Yes.

It may take a while. – You never know, Georges.

Well then ...

I'll go for a walk.

Well, go for a walk.

See you later.

See you later, Georges.

Right, Jeanne, let's do what he asked.

Yes.

Jeanne?

Well?

I thought ...

What did you think?

They aren't going to do anything stupid. With pills.

Or a razor blade.

Yes, Georges.

We did what you asked. – Yes.

We did our duty.

There weren't any complaints, eh? – No.

Yes, but ... – Georges.

We're happy and you're happy. We won't talk about it anymore. OK?

OK.

Right ...

I'm going downstairs.

Will you go back to the flour factories? – Where else?

If they still want you.

There are a lot of people out of work.

And they prefer young men.

And Turks and Yugoslavians.

Georges, I'm off. – Right, Erik.

Goodbye, Jeanne.

Goodbye.

Or rather, as they say in France, 'Adieu'.

Adieu.

Adieu, adieu, my officer of the guards.

Adieu, adieu, do not forget me. – You lunatic.

Do not forget ...

We will meet again, Erik, but later.

You do understand, don't you? – Yes, I understand.

Thank you.

Yes. – Really, thank you.

You've no idea.

What a state of affairs.

Erik.

Don't forget your shirts.

Thanks, Jeanne.

Right ...

Bye.

Shall we go to the cinema this evening?

Eh, Jeanne?

Yes, if you want to.

Whatever you want.

Did you often go to the cinema with Erik?

Don't mention his name again. – No.

Preferably not.

We could go to the Ardennes for a week. Together.

Before I start work again. – Can you afford it?

You're right. I'll start work first.

I'll go to the factory Monday, to Mr Van den Ende.

Did you bring your blue suit with you?

Yes, it's in the case.

But whether it still fits me ...

We can go to the Ardennes at Christmas.

Translated by Christine Le Piez The Subtitling Company