Original subtitles

Barras 1985

Mrs Barras, are you ready?

Yes.

Stolen babies

Without the TV report on the stolen baby scandal,

I'd never have thought it.

The nuns said my baby was stillborn.

I never saw the body.

Mothers insisting on seeing bodies,

were shown a frozen body

to convince them of it.

Will you be able to find my daughter?

It'll be hard.

You ought to know that.

The convent was abandoned,

I don't know if the archives were destroyed,

or just moved elsewhere.

Why do you need them?

Just find the Mother Superior.

No. We need proof.

We need the civil register for cross referencing.

How could they do it?

OK, so they were nuns.

But they were women first!

Franco started it in the 40s.

For ideological reasons.

Babies were taken from Republican families

to be given to Nationalist families.

But I gave birth in 85.

10 years after Franco.

The church carried it on into the 80s.

300,000 children were taken.

Thank you.

Sure you want to leave?

I can find you a hotel.

No. I must go back.

Could my daughter be looking for me?

Many children were bought by foreigners.

They're unaware of the truth.

They were given a new identity,

with altered birth dates.

- No chance? - I'll check the archives,

and keep you updated.

Not the ivory pearls.

I already have them.

I'm missing the pinkish pearls.

I'll wait.

Alright?

I'm ordering pearls.

Be right with you.

I thought you were out of stock.

When can I have them?

I decided to add a row of pearls.

There's only one on your design. It needs more.

Are you listening?

I went to Spain yesterday.

You didn't say you were going.

I told you not to go.

I had to know.

I couldn't sleep.

Well?

They opened the grave.

My baby wasn't inside.

A mistake, perhaps.

I saw the body.

You know it.

No. They lied to you.

It wasn't my baby.

I met a lawyer who's treating the case.

Thousands of women were lied to.

You realise, my baby isn't dead.

She must be found.

Hello.

I wasn't expecting you.

I was waiting for your news.

- You good? - Yes.

Can I have a coffee?

Yes, of course.

Hello, Carmen. Alright?

Overloaded, as usual.

Here.

Thanks.

The mysterious delivery went well?

Why mysterious?

Because you told me nothing about it.

I got back late.

And?

And nothing.

Inès, what are you playing at?

I'm not with you.

You're more and more distant.

Is there a problem?

I just discovered the child I thought was dead

may be alive.

Pardon?

What child?

The child I had at 15.

I was told that it was stillborn.

You always told me you were sterile.

Wasn't that true?

Yes, it was, in a way.

Not that you couldn't.

You wouldn't.

Is it too late to call?

No, not at all.

Found something?

I've found the nuns.

They're about 50 kms from the old convent,

at San Angel. I hope they have archives.

I'll go there.

When?

I want to go with you.

Let me speak. Stay discreet.

They don't like receiving visits.

Count on me.

I haven't spoken Spanish in 30 years.

It brings back bad memories.

Hello, Sister.

Is the Mother Superior there?

I'm Mateo Casal from Barcelona.

What's it about?

The Carmela convent archives,

I'd like to see them.

Come in, I'll announce you.

Come on.

Wait here, I'll be back.

- And if she refuses? - Be positive.

We've been invited in. That's something.

Mother Superior cannot see you. She is unwell.

And the archives?

Inès.

Will we be able to consult the archives?

Don't insist.

What is it?

I recognise her. She was the headmistress.

It's no use. She won't talk.

You stole my baby!

You're a monster!

You're a...

It's useless.

Let go of me!

Calm down!

Well done.

Why don't you get the police in?

You expect me to do nothing to find her?

I've sought my brother for 8 years.

I didn't know.

Mother waited for him for 30 years.

I swore to find him.

If strangling a nun would do it, I would have.

I'm sorry.

I'll be right back.

I could be struck off for this.

Wait in the car then.

Keep watch!

- They're here. - Hurry!

Found them.

No. It's another convent.

It seems there are several.

I've got it.

Here.

July.

It's here.

8th of July 1985.

A girl was stillborn. No cause of death.

Mother:

Inès Barras.

10th of July 1985.

A girl was born.

Mother: Hélène Carbona.

Father: Pierre Carbona,

living in Nimes, France.

It can't be true.

I was the only one in the convent.

You think they bought her?

It's possible, yes.

Why would a French woman give birth in the convent?

Found my daughter?

Not yet, Inès. Not yet.

We don't know if they still live in Nimes,

them, or their child.

It'll take time.

I'll get there.

A bachelor.

Still living with his mother at 70.

Carbona - Nimes

P. Carbona

Hello.

Sorry to bother you. Is Mr Pierre Carbona here?

That's me.

I'm looking for his daughter. She's 30.

- Goodbye. Thanks. - Bye.

Hello.

Hello.

Can I help you?

Mr. Pierre Carbona.

The mechanic?

Yes.

- His daughter? - Niece.

He lives further down.

The house there.

Thank you.

But he'll be at work just now.

Looking for something?

Yes. I'm looking for Mr. Carbona.

Are you his wife?

Yes. He's not home.

In fact...

he said he had an estimate for me.

Well, come on up then.

Thank you.

Sorry. I cut myself gardening.

Oh dear.

Come on.

Is that your daughter?

Yes. It's Heloise.

I'm always photographing her.

What's your name?

Barras.

He can't have left it here.

I can't find it. Sorry.

How old is she now?

Heloise?

Nearly 30.

- Had her young? - 25.

Where was she born?

Sorry?

In Spain?

The Carmela convent?

Why do you ask?

I gave birth there 30 years ago.

Like many women.

You too?

Naturally.

My daughter was born there.

When was that?

10th July 1985.

That's it. 2 days after I gave birth.

I didn't see you there.

And? I didn't see you either.

What do you want?

My daughter.

I don't know where she is.

I think you do.

That's enough. Get out!

I'm calling my husband.

She's completely crazy!

Give me my photo back!

Pierre, a woman came here.

Shit.

Let me do it.

You know, really...

we've got a valid birth certificate.

What could go wrong?

The nuns said the mother died, didn't they?

Do you swear it?

Yes, I swear it.

Eat.

Hi.

She looks like Miguel and I, doesn't she?

She could be our daughter.

Not necessarily. I never saw your Miguel.

He's dead.

You won't bring him back by persecuting this family.

How can you defend them?

I'm sure they stole my baby.

That woman seemed so uneasy.

She needs to come clean.

What will you do?

You don't understand.

What if she's my daughter?

If you're wrong, what then?

You'll spend your life hunting her?

She's an adult.

She's Miguel's child.

Really, Inès!

He was just a teenage romance.

He was much more than that.

- I never forgot him. - You should've tried.

By marrying, having children.

You never trust any man.

Only this Miguel matters.

Who knows who he'd have been?

I ask myself that question.

I would've been happy.

Married with a child at 15?

It's pure fantasy.

Happily, life decided otherwise.

It suited you that I lost the child.

Are you crazy?

I was relieved though.

I was your substitute mother.

You were far too young for a baby.

Did you ask how it died?

What was the baby like?

When was it put in a coffin?

Didn't you see them put it in a coffin?

When I came to the convent to get you,

the nuns had already buried it.

My main concern was for you.

You lied to me.

You've lied for all these years.

Don't touch me!

I'll never forgive you.

I've seen a photo, she's like me.

Even more like her birth father.

A DNA test?

She'll never accept it.

Can you see me after?

Can't you see I'm busy?

Hello?

Are you there?

Yes.

Can't she be summoned to appear?

I'm sure they stole her.

Sorry for interrupting your call.

What's that?

What you asked me to do.

Too full?

You've got eyes. Use them.

The measurements are wrong.

The wrist is too tight.

Shall I undo it?

In your opinion?

I'll be right there.

Hello.

Mr Carbona?

Yes.

I went to see your wife.

It was you?

She told me.

But it was fairly muddled.

- You lost your child? - Yes.

Stolen from me at birth.

That's awful.

I'm very sorry for you.

It doesn't involve me.

Carbona is a common name.

Your daughter's the same age as mine,

born in the same place.

I'd like to meet her.

Why?

It's nothing to do with her.

To take a DNA sample.

So that the truth can be known.

I've been polite and friendly thus far.

Despite what you did to my wife, stealing the photo.

Let me get on with my work.

You won't get rid of me like that.

- You stole... - You have no proof.

If your conscience is clean, let me see her.

What are you afraid of?

I'm not afraid.

Your wife couldn't have children.

Get out.

This is pure invention!

- Let me see her. - Never.

Leave! Or I'll call the cops.

Paul.

It's me.

No. I'm not OK.

I need you.

No, Thanks.

Why are you taking such risks?

There are other methods.

Don't tell me that.

Not just now.

How about a few days away?

It's been a while.

I can't go away.

Not just now.

What will you do?

I'll write her a letter.

I must meet her.

She does look like you.

- Is that your dad? - No.

Who is it then?

You don't know him.

He died a long time ago.

What? What does it matter?

It doesn't.

My daughter's father.

You had a child, so there has to be a father.

What's all this?

Jealousy?

I've had enough of your secrecy.

It's been 7 years.

I don't want to play anymore.

You refuse to trust me.

I don't refuse.

Aren't we together?

If you say so.

Together and apart.

You piss me off, Inès.

You never hear me.

You never listen to anyone.

Why are you doing that?

Where's Sybille?

I sent her home.

She needed some rest.

That dress was hours of wasted work.

That's a first, you defending the staff.

Never did with me.

What's your problem?

I taught you all you know.

And I started this company.

I won't let you end it. You're never here.

My dear aunt who gave up everything for me.

Take it, it's yours.

Dress-designing wasn't my dream.

You've always decided what I should do with my life.

You should be ashamed.

After all I've done for you.

You speak to me of shame?

All my life,

you told me how you hated the church and Franco.

You fled Spain.

Now you're closing your eyes to it.

You've got it wrong.

You'll regret saying it.

I regret trusting you 30 years ago.

Pierre.

No. Not in the flowers.

Of course. I'm sorry.

- Afraid she'll return? - No.

I think I scared her sufficiently.

But maybe we should tell Heloise, just in case.

You think so?

It would be sensible.

She'd know this woman's a nutter.

We shouldn't have.

Why do you say that?

Don't say you regret it.

No.

'Course not.

It would've been easy...

If?

If I hadn't been sterile?

It was destroying me.

I didn't have what you wanted.

You gave me love.

Stop it.

You blamed me.

Don't you remember?

Without Heloise, you'd have ended up hating me.

You'd have left me.

I couldn't have coped.

Without you, I'm less than nothing.

"You'll be told I'm mad, or a liar,

"but if you meet me,

"you'll understand why I believe...

"It's difficult to write,

"I think you're my daughter."

Like champagne?

Careful.

Mind your backs!

- Need any help? - No, it's OK.

It's magnificent.

It was well chosen.

It's your 35th anniversary.

The baby will eat its fruit.

I hope so.

Is that her?

Pierre.

Heloise, come inside, please.

She asked me where Pierre lived.

If I'd known...

She must go.

You could let me do it.

Anyway. The meal is served.

Here.

And your fiancee.

- Thanks. - All got a glass?

- Cheers, then. - Cheers.

To our happiness.

You're even lovelier now.

I was only 17.

She's taken root.

She can't just stay there like that.

She could become violent.

I've worked with people who get fixations.

The last said he was God's messenger.

No contradictions.

She's not dangerous. Dig in.

Start without me.

I'll be back.

She's always in the toilet.

Well, she is pregnant.

How could Heloise be her child?

Let's not talk about it.

Go on. Finish.

- Where is she? - Outside.

Hello.

Listen.

Your fixation on me is extremely unpleasant.

Can't you just leave us alone.

I wrote you a letter.

To explain everything.

- I think you're my child. - Don't explain.

I'm Pierre and Hélène's daughter.

You were born where I gave birth.

Go away. This is a family gathering.

She's going.

Go back inside.

Leave now.

Let me just tell you about it.

It won't take long.

I'll leave after.

- And leave us in peace? - Yes.

I'll meet you in 2 hours, by the arena.

Well?

She apologised.

She recognised her mistake.

End of story.

- Come on up. - Come.

Let's eat lunch together.

When's it due?

I'm in a hurry. My boyfriend's waiting for me.

Sorry. I understand.

Where shall I begin?

I appreciate your coming.

I want to show you this photo.

The first man I ever loved.

In fact, the only one.

I lived in a Spanish village with my dad.

My mum died when I was 5.

My dad was very religious.

Miguel was older than me.

The most handsome boy around.

All the girls were crazy about him.

My boyfriend will wonder...

Sorry.

I'll keep it brief.

We slept together.

I got pregnant.

Miguel was delighted.

We planned to wed, but...

he fell off a roof and died.

He was a carpenter.

I was sent to Carmela convent to give birth.

My dad threw me out.

For him, I was just a slut.

My aunt, in France, took me in.

It must have been hard for you.

Yes. A real nightmare.

The nuns told me that my baby hadn't survived.

We'd have called her Nina.

It was the name Miguel and I chose.

I learnt that the nuns lied to me.

They sold my daughter.

It's almost 100% certain.

And that the child was you.

Do you have any proof of this?

A photo of the register.

That's me. Inès Barras.

The 8th of July 85.

The baby was stillborn.

The birth of Hélène and Pierre Carbona's child.

July 10th.

My parents. That's normal.

No, it isn't normal at all.

There were no births on the 10th. I was there.

To be sure, we'd have to...

do a DNA test.

Out of the question.

I've listened to you.

I kept my word.

Now you need to do the same.

I...

I hope you find your child.

What did Heloise say to convince her...

that she was mistaken?

As long as she leaves us alone.

Some people think they're Napoleon,

but she didn't seem crazy.

Stop all that.

We said, end of story.

It'd be better

to have proof of the mother's death.

Do you doubt the nuns' honesty?

Did they mention the family?

Maybe Heloise is being looked for.

It makes no sense, 30 years on.

Calm yourself.

What are you doing?

Looking at photos.

That's all.

Don't say...

that woman has actually convinced you?

No. I just wanted to look at photos

of my childhood.

Are you off?

Yes. I'm late.

You won't try and...

Everything's OK.

See you later.

Yes, later.

Heloise?

You there, darling?

Hello mum.

What's going on?

Photos of my birth, for Thomas.

He thinks it's a girl.

The yellow album.

With flowers on.

A gift from grandma.

I've looked, it starts here,

with your return from Spain.

Yes. Well...

It's all we've got.

Didn't dad take any just after my birth?

Yes, I remember now.

There was a developing problem.

They were black.

Want a coffee?

No, thanks.

And when you were pregnant?

I said, the camera went wrong.

We only realised too late.

What a pity.

Is Thomas alright?

Yes.

Stressed out, with all there is to do before the baby's born.

There's still time.

Why did you go to Spain

just before I was due?

Wasn't it a bit risky?

We didn't know you'd be premature.

A month early.

I was so impatient for you!

You never told me before.

I thought I had told you.

Never mind.

I've got lots to do.

Can't you sleep?

I'm too wound up.

It's Heloise.

She's asking too many questions.

I'm answering rubbish.

She wants photos.

Do you realise?

If she asks,

say the camera was broken.

We couldn't develop them.

Don't worry.

I'll say the same.

I messed up.

No, you didn't.

No.

She'll forget it once she's a mother.

If she learnt the truth,

would she reject us?

Come to bed.

I'd like to add some lace.

But we haven't time.

The sleeves seem to be alright now.

How would you react

if your parents weren't your real parents?

You take the biscuit.

I worry over deadlines,

while you invent family stories.

Go on, tell me.

How would you react?

Once the shock was over, I think I'd be amused.

Particularly if my birth parents were rich and famous.

I imagined it as a kid.

- All children do. - Really?

Didn't you?

No. It never occurred to me.

If I lay your chosen wall tiles,

with the decor tiles,

plus the cupboard doors,

it'll cost under 1,000 euros.

If Thomas helps, it will be finished in 2 days.

- Are you up to it? - Too old, you mean?

Absolutely not.

You're fit. Unlike Thomas.

The bigger I get, the more tired he is.

Were you like that?

Quite the opposite.

I was full of energy.

Do you want a sample?

No need. He trusts me.

You must've been stressed.

My arriving early.

You came when you were meant to.

At the right moment.

Your mum is so organised.

Everything was ready.

Right.

If I order, we'll have it all in 8 days.

Shall we?

Are you listening?

Yes. I am.

The size is perfect.

The length as well.

Do you like it?

No.

It wasn't how I imagined it.

In what way?

When I turn,

it sticks to my legs.

We spoke about something light and airy.

It feels like wearing a shroud.

Pardon?

And what's this lining all about?

I asked for transparency.

There is transparency.

At the shoulders and neckline.

You didn't listen to me.

Look at her reaction!

I can't say anything.

Her work's vital to her.

She really didn't expect...

Anyway, we'll do all that we can

to change it for you.

I want something light and joyful.

It will be ready...

in time. I promise.

She must be very stressed about her wedding.

She'll calm down.

It's a great dress, it's not shroud-like.

No. She's right.

I didn't listen to her.

Paul says I never listen.

What's that to do with it?

You've made dozens of dresses.

Customers have always loved them.

Inès.

Paul?

- Hello. - You OK?

- Are you busy? - No.

Don't worry.

I wanted to hear you.

I wondered if you were free for dinner?

I'm ready.

Tonight...

No, I'm not free.

Let me know sooner next time.

Yes. Alright.

The next time, I will.

Have fun, then.

You too.

Hugs.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, please.

Get that lady the same again.

Let me do it.

Thanks.

Thanks.

You run the studio, don't you?

You make bridal gowns.

- Yes. - I often see you pass.

I've got the frame shop.

I've never been in.

Although I have photos to frame.

Can I join you?

Yes.

What kind of photos?

People.

People from my past.

My daughter.

You have a daughter.

Excuse me.

Can I have another?

Thanks.

She's 30.

Expecting a baby.

She won't speak to me.

Thanks.

Look...

You don't seem too well.

Maybe you shouldn't drink so much.

It's true. I'm not very well.

Do you want to take a walk?

I'm sure you'd feel better.

I'm sorry you feel so bad.

Be brave. Things will improve.

I never drink.

Feel any better?

- Yes. - Super.

I'll walk you home.

No, thanks. I'll be OK.

Promise me to take more care.

Do that for me, at least.

When you walk by, you brighten my day.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

What's bothering you?

I should've seen a death certificate,

with the cause of death.

It should be a public scandal.

There are lots of articles on the web.

People don't want to know.

It's too serious.

It's everywhere.

Argentina, Ireland, Russia.

Everywhere.

For all we know,

it happened here, as well.

Did you tell Mr and Mrs Carbona?

That it was child trafficking?

No.

They didn't give me the time.

If they knew, perhaps they'd listen to me.

You need to explain it to them.

As it is, they think you're the child thief.

They were manipulated by the church.

Yes. You're right.

I was too impulsive.

Thinking selfishly.

Don't give up.

These crimes must be punished.

300,000 babies stolen in Spain

Stolen babies Justice for the victims

So...

ever since we were re-united,

it's like we were never separated.

My daughter.

Thank you, Dolores and Emma,

that gives us all hope.

We'll meet again in a fortnight.

- Hello. - Hello.

- Inès? - Yes.

I'm glad you could come.

Mateo Casal told me a lot about you.

He helped me a lot.

This is a DNA testing kit.

We work with a Belgian laboratory.

It's very easy to use.

She refuses to take the test.

Be patient.

Not everyone is ready to learn the truth.

See that lady?

It took 10 years to find her,

and several months to get her to take the test.

10 years.

All that time wasted.

Inès,

it was stolen, not wasted.

That can't be repaired.

For the lucky ones who are re-united,

a story begins,

but one which is not about the joy of bringing up a child.

It's about meeting an adult.

Mother Child

Spain, 50 years of child trafficking

Nîmes

Mrs Carbona?

A moment of your time, please.

Excuse me, I was insensitive last time.

Please just read this.

We are all victims of a massive Spanish scandal.

I'm sure your role wasn't intentional.

The nuns lied to us all.

To both me and you.

This explains it all.

Leave me.

Try to be reasonable.

The truth will out. Heloise will...

I beg of you!

Even if what you say is true,

why would you destroy Heloise and our lives?

It's gone too far to stop.

I won't accept their lies.

300,000 women's lives destroyed.

Take it.

She's following me.

Don't get worked up about it.

She showed me papers.

No idea what papers.

She'll come to you.

She wouldn't dare.

She would. She followed me.

I'll be home early.

Just don't worry.

Should I call the police?

And tell them what?

Just hear me out, please.

What is it now?

I won't steal Heloise from you.

You brought her up.

Thank you.

Deep down, you know I'm not making it up.

Here. The articles relating to the scandal

of Spain's child trafficking.

Your wife wouldn't read them.

Don't make that error.

It's very difficult to build one's life on lies.

I should know.

It's a simple process.

You add a lock of Heloise's hair,

with or without consent.

Tell her whatever suits you.

You're a father.

I trust you.

I hope that one day

we'll see those who ruined our lives, in court.

I'd like to make a dress from this.

What do you think?

Yes. It's beautiful.

It is, isn't it?

It makes me happy to see you smile.

I've done all that I can.

Now it's down to him.

It's the first time I've given a man a lock of my hair.

I should hope so too.

I was just wondering if my father...

knew what the nuns would do

when he sent me to give birth.

I can assure you he hadn't the slightest idea.

How do you know?

When he phoned

to tell me about what he called your great transgression,

he told me to look after you and your bastard.

Your father wasn't a bad man,

but the church ruled him.

Poor thing.

I must have wounded him.

He was ashamed of me.

Spain, 50 years of child trafficking

I thought you'd say no.

Quite the opposite.

I wanted to see you.

Thanks for calling me.

Where do we eat?

- How about a drink first? - OK.

Thanks.

- You alright? - Not bad.

And you?

Yes.

It's complicated.

You can imagine.

Your daughter?

I've thought a lot on what you said.

I have a real issue with commitment.

I just can't seem to trust people.

I've thought a lot as well.

Really?

Despite my feelings for you,

I'm really just an old-fashioned guy.

Marriage, family dinners, country cottage,

whispered secrets, all that shit.

I can't accept your lying.

- I never lied. - You did.

You implied you were sterile.

I never said the word.

It amounted to the same thing.

You wouldn't let me become a father.

And it's now or never for me.

I didn't want to lie.

I couldn't do otherwise.

Now, it's too late for me.

I'm sorry.

I'm truly sorry.

I know.

Walk you to your car?

No, thanks. I'm fine.

You should've let me sand it first.

No. You'd have transformed it.

I prefer it old and tatty.

You used to fit that cradle, beanpole.

Not so much of your beanpole!

That woman wasn't talking rubbish, you know.

You've seen her?

No. I've read articles online.

Babies were stolen in Spain.

Some people are capable of buying babies.

Could you have done that?

Done what?

Leave it.

- Don't lift things. - Let me.

Is Thomas coming for the picnic?

Yes, he is.

OK, dad?

I'm just fine.

Spain, 50 years of child trafficking

I'd given up hope.

You might find me less interesting sober.

I'd be surprised.

I wanted to thank you.

The pleasure was all mine.

You look lovely.

You and your daughter speaking?

You remember that?

It's a long story.

Tell you one day.

Anyone want a coffee?

Not just yet.

The thermos is in the basket.

Alright, dad?

You're very quiet.

I've got something to say.

Pierre.

Hélène is the love of my life.

Everything I did, I did for love.

What's all this about?

I was 25.

We'd tried 4 years for a child,

until we learnt that it wasn't possible.

My fault.

I couldn't give her what she wanted.

Hélène was depressed, and I met a Spanish guy,

who spoke about a convent

near his village.

It was only 3 hours from here.

It was so much faster...

than trying to adopt here.

One night, we got a call.

You had pneumonia. Remember?

A massive fever. You couldn't move.

You wanted to come but couldn't.

So, I went.

I arrived there quite early.

I expected the nuns to mention the family,

to explain things.

But they only asked if I'd brought the money.

No!

Sorry. I never told you that.

After I paid, I had to sign papers.

Our name was on them, and the date.

They gave me a baby.

They just wanted me to leave.

I asked about the mother.

They said she'd died in childbirth.

And I believed them.

Passing by one of the cells, I heard crying.

Not crying, more like a long wail.

The door was ajar,

I just caught a glance of

a young woman in bed, wailing.

The nuns closed the door quickly.

I briefly wondered whether I was holding her baby.

So, you always knew she was alive.

You bought me.

It took you all this time to tell me.

I was afraid to tell you,

that you'd reject us.

Mum couldn't have coped.

No excuses. I was a coward.

Do you think it's her?

I don't know.

Perhaps.

You should find out.

You could take a DNA test.

I don't want to hear about it!

Heloise!

Heloise!

I'm really happy.

I was so worried.

But it's amazing.

- It suits you perfectly. - Thanks.

- Got the tiara and veil? - Yes.

Thanks.

- I'll send a photo. - Yes. Bye.

Goodbye.

Good riddance.

She's as bad happy as she was angry.

Can I go? I've a date tonight.

- Off you go. I'll close. - Thanks.

See you tomorrow.

Hello.

We were just closing, but come in.

You know what you want?

No.

It's all made-to-measure. Every dress is unique.

It's for Saturday.

I can show you our book to give you an idea.

Unless you already know

what you're looking for.

No.

You can go, Sybille. Leave it to me.

Fine.

Inès Barras, the designer.

You're in the best possible hands.

It's a long way to come to buy a dress.

I received it 3 days ago, I haven't opened it yet.

I don't dare.

Shall I do it?

DNA direct

Child: Heloise Carbona Presumed mother: Inès Barras

Probability of motherhood: 99.9999%

I must tell them. They don't know I took the test.

Really?

I've kept my distance recently.

I know they wouldn't have stolen me.

I suppose not.

But they're still my parents.

Of course.

But I want my baby to know its origins.

That's good.

I hope we'll get to know each other.

Slowly but surely.

Yes.

Let time take care of things.

I trust the process.

Your wedding dress...

Do you have one yet?

Feel free with me.

No.

We'll marry in January, just before the baby's born.

I haven't organised the dress yet.

You can refuse, but I'd love to do it.

It would be my gift.

The first, in fact.

I can see you in a dress

gathered here, to show off the neckline,

brightly edged to enhance your complexion,

and show off your eyes.

Hello?

Yes.

Yes.

I'll hurry.

Yes. As soon as I can.

See you soon.

She's in labour.

- I'll get you a coffee. - OK.

Hugo.

My guardian angel.

Hello.

- Is everything alright? - Yes.

The baby's born.

Heloise is expecting you.

Are you sure?

Go on in.

It's so little.

It's a little girl.

We're calling her Nina.

That's a wonderful name.

Subtitles: ECLAIR