Unmade Beds

Eleanor Roosevelt?

Virginia Woolf?

Amanda Lear?

Liz Taylor?

Marie...

Marie.

Marie Curie.

Benazir Bhutto?

Maria Callas?

Bravo, Margaret.

Heard you clinched the deal.

My schedule?

Got the black dress, car's waiting, 15 minutes.

Find Malcolm, we meet at a quarter to.

I think that's pushing it.

Pushing it? I dine on frozen food,

sob over Toy Story 2, sell global-warming power plants,

pushing it is not a problem.

- Low cut? - The dress?

Full cleavage for the Chinese. Overkill, but they like it.

I think the Chinese prefer the nape,

yet your breasts deserve to be seen...

Arnaud, am I dreaming?

Hold on.

What's a karstic aquafer? A disease?

Aquifer!

Just about.

So, at worst, the contract blows,

at best, the plant.

What do we pay experts top dollar for?

Listen, you've hooked the Chinese.

You could sell scales to a snake,

flames to Lucifer!

Meaning, other such plants

have already been built on karstic aquifers.

So, where else? Bhopal, Chernobyl?

So, the Americans are undercutting us?

They built the Mattel plant

on floodable terrain...

So let's call Ken and Barbie to ask how!

Then we keep our cool.

While the competition is promising the moon

our only advantage is to be rock solid.

Coffee?

It's tepid.

The re-assessment. Another coffee?

No, I'd rather you at your post.

A country notary is here to see you.

Seems like family business.

Just needs a signature.

Who? To sign what?

Mr Merignac, from a village down south, Saou...

It's pronounced "Sou". Drome region, district of Crest-Sud.

Should I cancel?

I'll just freshen up. Be right there.

Margaret, I didn't yet get time to say it. . .

Happy birthday!

Not now! Why tonight?

Couldn't he forget me, or die, or both!

He's just a country notary.

Maria Callas.

Appear unshakeable.

This is our excuse for coffee.

It's best we talk here...

It's hot!

And undrinkable.

I'm not a coffee person.

So, Saou. . .

300 people, a 1 5th Century chapel, a bowling ground,

one bus a day and even a notary.

A notary now retired.

Saou no longer needs notaries.

Not like here.

I came once before, in 91 .

It's changed, no?

It sure has. I hardly recognised it.

Even you, I wouldn't have...

recognised you.

I meant the place.

We've met?

Sorry, but I'm hopeless with names.

I just need you to sign...

Here. . .

Excuse me...

300 what? Million?

Can do better.

Okay, be done in 3 minutes.

Sounds like a hot deal.

Yeah, everything's "hot" here:

coffee, business and schedule.

Not a fun birthday.

You said it.

Aren't you surprised I know your birth date?

Sorry?

Still don't recognise me?

Must be a mistake.

My name is Margaret Flore, not Marguerite.

But it's not the first time.

A mistake...Well,

here's the mistake.

Well, I'm just in time to catch my train...

That's all?

Expecting something else?

Patience.

- How long have I got? - 7 minutes.

I stalled the driver, checked the dress: low-cut...

"Marguerite Flore, wherever she is, on 21 Sept. 201 0."

Say, Arnaud,

for my birthday, I hope you didn't order flowers?

Little do you know me, Margaret.

No, they're not for here.

But if you're done, we'd better go.

Tell Malcolm we meet downstairs. Don't forget the dress.

Arnaud.

Change of plan, downstairs in 1 5.

What? I think we should go now...

Don't think!

Letters 3 and 4...

Letter 1 .

Dear me,

first, happi birthday.

Wow, can't even spell "happy"!

I have a present for you. Hope you like it.

They're my favourites

and I've got almost 200.

Today, I'm seven. The age of reason.

It's the neatest birthday I've ever had.

There's Dad,

Mom, my little brother. . .

Lots of movers.

No furniture left

and even a bailiff with a repossession order.

We played lots of new games.

We played shadows,

echoes,

even beggars.

It's so corny!

The Queen piled up 21 mattresses

and slipped a pea underneath.

And Mom made me a princess's dress. . .

I can feel the pea!

with the bedroom curtains. . .

But to be honest, I'm lying.

I liked my birthday a little, a lot,

passionately,

wildly, not at all.

It's so fusty.

So sugar sweet.

It smells of cheap violet.

At the time of reading,

it's your birthday. So, happy birthday.

Mom says ladies don't tell their age.

But believe me, you're at the silliest age of your life.

So I wrote this to help you remember

the promises I made today at the age of reason.

We, Mathieu and Marguerite Flore, do solemnly swear...

To save the elephants.

To never eat oysters!

To hold our breath till 1 1 7.

To make a popcorn tart to see if it jumps in the oven.

No, above all,

above all,

to set things straight.

Right, let's start with what matters most.

What have you become?

What do I want to be?

Here's my list of jobs that you can do.

a) Whale vet.

b) Saint.

c) Martian explorer.

d) Wedding-cake maker.

e) Princess.

f) Other.

Come on, let's go!

I need 3.5%.

4%

The dress!

3.5!

Here, take this.

Black, low-cut.

Size 36, body-hugging.

Might make up for your bungling.

I meant the parcel.

It's a parcel. Don't sidetrack.

I announce 3.5% to throw the competition.

At election time, the presidential candidates

do it 3 to 4 times a day.

What? Lie?

Change in cars.

They lie too.

3.80%

any lower, the board won't back you.

Group reliability is at stake.

What's reliable is what I get if I fail: the boot.

You've done worse.

Never. Chance has no place in my life.

And this. . . Is that chance?

Should I pursue?

I never mix work and play.

Now's not the time.