The Flower of My Secret
We've done everything possible, but your son Juan is dead.
But I just saw him, and he was breathing.
You might have made a mistake.
- Not this time. - I want to see him.
You will, but first we must warn you…
…not to have false hopes.
It'll look like he's breathing, but he's not.
It's the artificial-respiration machine.
If you don't mind, I'll take him somewhere else.
I'll get the money somewhere. If there's hope--
There isn't.
It's hard to grasp cerebral death.
We have him on an artificial respirator. That's why…
…he seems to be breathing.
But his brain is dead.
But my Juan is so strong.
He's only 16 years old.
If you say he's breathing, maybe he really is breathing.
Like we told you, it's the respirator.
Sorry, I don't trust--
Unfortunately, we have unequivocal proof.
Juan's last brain scan was completely flat.
That means cerebral death.
I don't mind him being a little retarded as long as he survives.
Madam, your son is dead.
He's dead.
Shall we notify your relatives?
I'm alone. My husband died two years ago.
I don't want you to call my mother-in-law.
Why did she buy him that motorcycle?
That goddamn motorcycle.
I warned him about it
"Remember, you'll ruin my life if something happens on that bike!"
These things happen every day.
Every day?
I don't lose a son every day.
Swear it.
What?
Swear that my Juan is dead.
No one has ever asked us to do that.
Don't judge her.
Yes, ma'am, we swear it.
Your son is dead.
--defenseless against the lurking madness.
Every day I wear something of yours.
Today I'm wearing the boots you gave me.
Remember how you had to take them off…
…because I couldn't do it alone?
Seeing them reminded me of you, and I put them on in your honor.
Now they're too tight.
Sometimes the memory of you…
…like these boots, oppresses my heart.
I can't get them off.
Can you spare 1000 pesetas?
- I don't have-- - Five hundred?
- Please, I need it. - I don't have change.
I'll give you 5000 if you help me take off my boots.
Deal. Sit on the steps.
- Where? - By the fountain.
Come over here.
Sit here.
- This one? - That one first.
Here we go. We'll get it off.
It's stuck!
You have to push.
I can't push. Can't you see I'll fall?
Wait a second.
Give me my leg back!
Hold it here and pull on the heel…
…not on the tip, understand?
- Pull here. - This way?
It won't budge.
No, please!
Forget it.
Please, don't.
We'll get soaked.
- I like rain. - I don't.
I'll get a friend to help me.
No, no. I'll give you the money.
What a day.
Coffee with cognac, please.
Can I use the phone?
National Transplant Organization.
This is Leo, Betty's friend.
Can I talk to her?
She's not here. She's giving a seminar.
- In Madrid or out of town? - In Madrid.
In the Community Hotel School.
As usual.
She'll probably finish late.
- Shall I give her a message? - No, thanks.
FEELINGS: PAIN, ANGER, IMPOTENCE, RELIEF
BEHAVIOR: AGGRESSION, SEARCHING, SADNESS
Was your son concerned with social problems?
I don't know.
He was going to be a conscientious objector.
He was against violence, intolerance, war…
- He cared about other people. - Sure.
Did he talk about death?
Why would he do that? He was only 16 years old.
We're asking because…
…some people decide, when they're alive, to donate their organs…
- …and we wanted to know if Juan-- - You can do a transplant?
There's still hope for him?
There is hope, but not for your son.
For other patients.
Your son's organs could save many lives.
In Juan's case, where everything can be used…
…given his youth and good health, it'd save five lives.
We'll need your authorization.
Don't make me suffer even more.
A woman in the waiting room warned me about this.
You can't mutilate my son.
It's not a mutilation, it's an operation. He'll look…
…no different afterwards.
I want to see my son.
Think about it.
Eighty percent of the relatives we ask give their approval…
…and it's a great consolation for them.
We have experience in this.
Who will you give the organs to?
Whoever needs them most.
You wouldn't give them to an Arab?
To an Arab? We give them to whoever needs them most…
…regardless of their race or creed.
I've read that some really rich Arabs…
…buy everything on the black market.
That happens in Third World countries.
Spain is in the Integrated Pain--
- Plan. - Integrated Pain…
- Integrated Plan. - Integrated Plan…
…of Organ Donation.
The administration is completely on the level. Excuse me.
Will they at least stay in Madrid?
The law doesn't allow us to say.
Well, I don't know.
Give me a few days. I can't think about it right now.
Just let me see him.
We can't wait.
Unfortunately, there's no time. You have a few minutes.
Take the time you need.
If there's any way we can help you, let us know.
We're here for that too.
Sorry, we should have started with that.
It's never too late.
Let's go.
Manuela, you were great.
Wasn't it a bit overacted?
Not at all. You're a better actress each time.
I'm going to rewind.
If you want to say anything, I'll stop the video.
- How did you feel? - Terrible.
Especially when she refused to understand brain death.
I didn't refuse. Forget I'm a nurse.
People don't know what a brain scan is.
Brain death is difficult to explain.
The relative will be in a crisis…
…willing to grasp at any chance of hope, however absurd.
You can't talk about donation until…
…they've understood and accepted the death.
That's why you must explain it clearly and respectfully.
ORGAN DONATION PROGRAM
I admit that the Arab thing…
I lost all respect for her. I got so angry.
- You judged Manuela's reaction. - Not mine, Betty, the mother's.
- I'm not a racist. - Right.
Your rejection was reasonable.
When I mixed up "pain" and "plan," I just wanted to die.
- I almost pissed my pants. - Manuela! I understand.
But you can't judge the relative. That's essential.
Pain and fear justify any reaction.
Even the rudest one.
We'll talk later, okay?
What are you doing here?
I need to see you for a minute.
- Is there anything wrong? - No. It was raining.
- It's about time. - I'll see you in the cafeteria.
What's up?
I need help getting my boots off. I can't do it alone.
But, Leo…
Don't look at me like that. I don't have anyone else.
It's my maid's day off.
I called. I couldn't find her.
Come on.
You're soaking wet.
- I've had a terrible day. - Sit down.
Give me your foot.
It's really tight.
Paco gave them to me two years ago.
At night in the hotel, he had to take them off for me.
The other one.
- That's better! - You can't go on like this.
Like what?
Boots again?
Don't worry, these fit better.
You can't be so fragile.
What do you want me to do, Betty?
Shall we have dinner together?
I'd love to, if you can.
Don't worry about me, I'm not doing so badly.
If I keep drinking like this, I'll end up in A.A.
- Have you seen my friend at El País? - Not yet
- You don't want to? - I feel awkward just showing up there.
Don't be silly. Angel is charming.
- Promise me you'll go tomorrow. - All right.
Did you tell him who I am?
You tell him, if you want.
Except for drinking, everything's difficult for me.
Leo, you have to get out more. You can't just wait for Paco to call.
I can't help it.
Then we'll get you some professional help.
I don't need professional help. I need Paco.
You're not the only woman in the world with marital problems.
That's no consolation.
Blanca, I had to tell you something, but I forgot what.
Take your phosphorous pill.
It doesn't help my memory, but, God, it makes me horny.
Phosphorous is an aphrodisiac.
What's that mean?
Now I remember.
If Paco calls, tell him to call me tonight.
If he asks how I am, lie and say I'm great.
That's my son.
He's brought the bottles.
Good. I'm going to be late.
- Have you told her yet?
What are you waiting for?
I can't leave her now, when she needs me most.
We can't miss this opportunity.
- When will we have another? - Some opportunity!
I'll believe it when I see the contract.
I'll take care of that.
That's what worries me.
How's a producer going to give you 2 million without seeing the show?
Take the garbage down.
Is he asking for…
…something in exchange?
Come on!
Can't you find someone else? I haven't danced for so long…
…my kidneys are in bad shape.
Don't start. You're the best.
I was the best.
That was a long time ago.
This is my favorite place.
I love it. It's like the heart and arteries.
This makes El País work.
- When it works. - Excuse me.
- Angel? - That's me.
- I'm Leo. - What Leo?
Leo Macнas, Betty's friend.
Oh, Betty called to say you'd come. What's up?
Well, actually, I'm being rather bold…
…but I'd like to write about literature for your paper.
I told you I was being bold.
A little boldness would be good for the literary supplement.
- I don't know if I've read your work. - You haven't.
- Why? Do I look uncultured? - I haven't been published.
I don't expect to get a job for being Betty's friend.
I've brought some of my work for you to read.
A novel…
…and two essays.
I don't want to steal any more of your time.
You're not. Let's go to my office.
- I need to go to the bathroom. - It's the first door.
Is this novel, The Cold-Storage Room, yours?
- Of course. - Your name's not on it
I forgot.
Coffee?
When did you start writing?
When I was about 10.
My family emigrated to Extremadura.
Everyone on my street was illiterate.
The neighbors paid me to write letters for them…
…and to read the ones they'd received.
I haven't stopped writing since.
Wonderful.
Would you like some?
Do you specialize in a genre?
No, I'd prefer to write about what I like…
…and avoid Spanish literature. And one more thing.
Another condition?
I'd like to use a pseudonym.
No problem.
What writers do you like?
Mainly women.
Adventurous, suicidal lunatics like Djuna Barnes, Jane Bowles…
…Dorothy Parker, Jean Rhys, Flannery O'Connor, Virginia Woolf…
…Edith Wharton, Isak Dinesen, Janet Frame.
I write about them in my article "Pain and Life."
That's how I could give such a complete list.
I like women's literature too.
I'm glad.
Do you like Amanda Gris?
How do you know she's a woman?
Nobody knows who Amanda Gris is.
Now that you mention it, that's true.
But her genre is typically feminine.
It ranges from Barbara Cartland to Venezuelan soap operas.
You don't like sentimental literature.
I do, but I don't think the literature you refer to…
…is really about people's feelings.
There's no pain or grief.
Just routine, self-indulgent sentimentality.
I respect your opinion, but I don't agree.
Could you develop what you just said in 1500 words?
I'm not the right person for that.
I can't bear Amanda Gris.
Great. We publish one column in favor and one against.
The latter will be yours.
I don't want to write against.
I have enough negative things in my life.
I don't want to add more…
…especially if you pay me for it.
I'm such an asshole!
- Rosa, it's Leo. - Leo! Come in.
- What's that? - Clothes.
If you can't use them--
We can use whatever we get our hands on. They're brand new!
My little girl is here!
- How are you, Mom? - So-so. What do you expect?
- Why? - She's been depressed.
The weather. And Madrid!
And her nerves.
She gets so upset.
Shut up, crabface!
Your sister thinks it's all my nerves and my imagination.
Don't fight. It must be the weather. I feel bad too.
My legs feel like they're made of lead.
You should go out more. You'll end up paralyzed.
I already am.
You should take her out.
She doesn't want to go out.
Why should I? To be killed by a skinhead…
…or run over by a car?
Those skinheads always stare at me. I don't know why.
It's because she calls them hippies and dirtbags to their face.
There's only two around here.
I can't even see if they're skinheads or yuppies.
- As she won't go to the eye doctor. - Look. This is Amanda Gris' latest book.
I can't read. I can't even knit anymore.
Give it to me, I'll read it. What a pretty anthology!
Let's sit on the sofa, this chair hurts my coccyx.
Your sister loves those chairs.
With all that gold. She's like a gypsy.
I sit here all day doing nothing.
Since I'm almost blind.
The doctor told me that he can fix her eyes with an operation.
Your sister wants me in an operating room.
] refuse!
I won't be operated on while I'm alive.
When I'm dead, do what you want with me.
For God's sake, don't say that.
I won't be bothering you much longer.
All this just because I mentioned the doctor!
Leo, an operation is like a melon.
You have to open it to see if it's good…
…or if it's rotten.
- You're right. - Now she's a philosopher.
The philosopher is constipated and going to the bathroom.
If I don't use a glycerin suppository, I don't shit.
You expect me to pole-vault over you?
- See how she is? - She's terrible.
She wants to be shitting constantly, so she uses a suppository every day.
I haven't offered you anything!
Where's my head at?
I made you something.
Do you want some coffee?
If you contradict her, she jumps on you.
- She's like an animal. - It's her age.
She's used to the village.
She'll end up like her sister Petra and Grandmother: crazy!
It's in her blood.
Here, have some calamari.
No, I'll just have coffee.
I don't know how we'll end up, we have the same blood.
When she goes out, she dresses like a bag lady.
A little flan?
You can't say no, it's just milk and eggs.
- I've brought you something. - No, Leo, I can't.
Don't start, Rosa.
I'll pay you back when Santiago finds work.
- How is he? - Bad.
He does odd jobs and drinks too much.
With him and Mom, I'm caught between two fires.
Maybe she should come live with me.
You can't do that!
- You work too much. - I'm used to it.
Criticizing me, are you?
Don't listen to her, I'm fine.
I wish my legs were as good as my head.
- Cold hands. - Don't you wear the robe I gave you?
No, it's too beautiful to wear.
- You should wear it. - It's better in the closet.
I'm ashamed to go out with her.
I can't please your sister.
She's as weird as my late sister Petra.
- The same. - You're like her. And your aunt!
- And Grandmother! - And who else?
Leave our genes alone.
I'm going back to the village, where I won't be a nuisance.
You're not a nuisance.
If I fall asleep after lunch, she wakes me up like a drill sergeant.
- So she can sleep at night. - She tells me to move.
Damn! She wants me to do aerobics?
I hope I die soon so that I won't bother anybody.
Where did she put them?
She hides things like a magpie!
- What do you want? - The peppers.
They're right behind you.
See what I mean?
I can't see a thing.
Blind as she is, she wants to go to the village!
I hate Madrid.
You can't be alone in the village.
We need to find someone to help you with the housework.
To snoop through the closets and eat the sausages. No.
I roasted some peppers.
You shouldn't have. I have a cook.
- How does that gypsy cook? - Racist.
Wonderfully. And she irons.
Paco says no one irons his shirts as well as she does.
I don't think in the war…
…he's better taken care of than at home. Right?
More flan?
I'll wrap it up for you.
You look withered, Leo.
I'll put in the calamari too.
Going off to war.
As if we didn't have enough worries.
And the omelet.
Every day I pray nothing happens to him.
Pray for me too.
Of course. I pray for you first.
- She doesn't pray for me. - You're an atheist.
So what? You pray, that's your thing.
A cookie?
By the way, could you give me a little money…
…for the village taxes?
Sure.
Here you are.
And don't forget it's your nephew's birthday next week.
He doesn't need anything.
He could use some jeans.
He always wears the same ones. And he's growing.
He's turned out to be serious and studious…
…not like his crazy sister, who's not even capable of washing her panties.
They're the same age, grandmother and granddaughter.
The calamari!
Leocadia, what a cross I have to bear.
"You have before you…
…a woman created for anxiety."
Djuna Barnes.
Leo, this is Angel.
- What Angel? - Angel from El País.
I couldn't wait untijjomorrow.
I read your essays and novel, and I think they're wonderful.
- You mean you liked them? - Very much.
- You're not pulling my leg? - Me?
- Are you drunk? - Yes, and when I drink, I don't lie.
So think of a pseudonym, because I want…
…"Pain and Life" in the next supplement.
Am I being too familiar?
No, of course not.
- I love the title "Pain and Life." - It's from a Bola de Nieve song.
I know. "If I only have pain and life left…
…oh, my love, don't let me live!"
Relating Djuna Barnes with the "Cuban feeling" is new…
…but it makes sense.
That's just what I wanted to say.
Do you have an editor for the novel? I can help.
Well, actually, I didn't think I'd publish it.
Really? Then why did you write it?
For pleasure. I told you I like writing.
Well, come see me, and we'll talk about the article.
And sorry about this morning.
I'm not a bad guy, really.
But sometimes I act like a fool.
Well, good night. Goodbye.
Paco, it's me.
Leo? What time is it?
- Early. - Early? It's almost midnight.
I was asleep. Has something happened?
Yes, I'm really happy…
…and I wanted to share it with you.
I went to El País to ask for work--
Leo, are you drinking?
No, why?
You sound too lively…
…considering the time.
It's not late for Madrid.
It's never late in Madrid, but you forget I'm in Brussels.
Oh, sure.
I'll tell you about it tomorrow, okay?
Are you all right?
Yes, my love. Kisses.
Talk to you tomorrow.
May I speak…
…to Lieutenant Colonel Francisco Arcos?
He's not here. Who's calling?
His wife, from Madrid.
Tell him I called and ask him to call me, please.
Anything else?
No, just have him call me.
All right. Goodbye.
Leo, at last.
- Look, the second edition already. - Great.
- We've been expecting you. - I've been busy.
Did you receive the novel I sent you?
- Of course. - Well?
Leo, it isn't an Amanda Gris novel.
Why the change?
- I guess I'm evolving. - Why?
Maybe because I'm alive.
No, I mean, why change if sales are good?
Leo, sweetie, you forget our collection is called "True Love."
A novel about a mother who discovers her daughter's killed…
…her father who had tried to rape her.
And so that no one finds out…
…hides the body in the cold-storage room of a neighbor's restaurant.
It's hard to get rid of a corpse…
…and the mother wants to save her child.
Wouldn't you do anything for your son?
We're talking about novels, not children.
Children only take away your life.
Novels give you illusion to live.
People buy our books to forget the sordidness of their lives…
…to dream, even if it's a lie.
Coffee?
Who'll dream of people…
…who live in a seedy slum like the living dead?
Who'll identify with a protagonist…
…who works emptying shit out of hospital bedpans…
…who's got a junkie mother-in-law and faggot son…
…who's into black men?
Have you gone nuts, Leo?
Maybe. But reality's like that, Alicia.
Reality.
We all have enough reality in our homes.
Reality is for newspapers and TV.
Look at the result.
With so much reality, the country's ready to explode.
Reality should be banned.
Don't pee out of the pot, Alicia.
It's nobody's fault your son's a junkie.
Mind your own business!
By the way, did you give 5000 pesetas to my son the other day?
Me? I don't even know him.
Well, he says he knows you from seeing you here.
That's bitter.
He must have stolen it.
Incredible. He swore he met you, and you gave it to him…
…for helping you take off your boots.
He'll drive me crazy with his stories.
That was your son? Well, it's true.
Really?
- It was so absurd. - Let's get focused.
If Alicia starts talking about drugs, she'll never stop.
Leo, we hired you…
…to write love stories.
There's a love story in the novel.
Where? I couldn't find it anywhere.
The restaurant owner who can't forget his ex-wife.
The one who hires a hit man to kill his mother-in-law…
…so he can go to the funeral…
…see his ex-wife and convince her to come back to him?
Yes. That one.
Is the best way to find a woman to kill her mother?
It was based on a real story. It happened in Puerto Rico.
You're kidding me.
Sorry you didn't like the novel.
Wait a second. We have a problem.
A very big one.
Your contract specifies five romance novels a year…
…for the next three years.
I'll remind you:
"Novels of love in cosmopolitan settings.
Sex, suggestive but only suggested. Winter sports…
…radiant sunlight, suburbs, ministers, yuppies.
Absolutely no politics.
Absence of social conscience.
Illegitimate children, okay. And of course, happy endings."
The contract also specifies the millions we advanced you.
And your conditions: We can't use your real name…
…nor reveal it, nor publish your photo. No interviews.
We agreed to everything, and, until now, we've kept our part.
But you haven't. That's the problem.
The problem is the color.
Leo, be clear and don't act enigmatic with me.
I can't write a pink novel. It comes out black.
I try, but each page comes out darker.
Come on. You've been writing romance novels for 20 years.
You can't forget overnight.
The whole world can change overnight. I'm leaving.
Can't you at least try again…
…before Tomбs sues you for breach of contract?
Think about your house, your trips to the Caribbean…
…your collagen, your liposuctions, your family, your anonymity.
Goodbye, Alicia.
Don't try to play dirty with us.
Dirty?
I just want to be clear and sincere…
…even if that isn't in the contract.
Talk to your lawyer, he'll tell you what'll happen.
You can't do this.
If we sue you, everyone will find out you're Amanda Gris.
On second thought…
…it'd be good publicity for another anthology.
A juicy scandal. Knowing who she is, who she's married to.
We have to sue her, Tomбs.
The only virtue I can find in Amanda Gris…
…is hiding herself in the shadow of a pseudonym.
Little is known about her method of writing.
Does she use a typewriter?
Truman Capote distinguished between writers and typists.
We don't even know if Amanda Gris is a good typist.
Her work is fiction…
…but this should not be mistaken for literature.
When I say "fiction," I mean lies.
My God.
- Who is it? - It's Leo.
Leo, I was just leaving.
Why didn't you call?
I did, but your line was busy.
And it couldn't wait?
No, but if you won't let me in, I'll go.
Come in.
I wouldn't bother you if I didn't have a big problem.
I have problems too.
We can exchange them like trading cards.
Thanks, I thought you were my friend.
Then ask me what's wrong.
I just got here!
You're the only person who knows I'm Amanda Gris.
Now that you mention it, you do seem upset.
What's wrong? Come on, sit down, tell me about it.
- I can't. - You can't?
No. Professional problems.
Aren't we doing great.
Let's have a drink.
- The telephone. - What?
Someone's calling. Can't you hear it?
Yes, but I'd rather fix the drinks.
- Should I get it? - No. Don't bother. I'll get it.
All right.
Yes? What a surprise.
She just arrived.
I'll put her on.
Leo, it's for you.
- Who is it? - Leo?
Paco! How did you know I was here?
You weren't at home, and I thought you might be there.
What intuition.
You said if you weren't at home…
…I should track you down.
That's my boy.
Is anything wrong?
Yes, I'll tell you about it later.
But first, are there any rocks there?
Yes. Yes, of course.
A lot of rocks? It's like the Grand Canyon here.
Yes. What's happened?
I've broken with Fascination.
I won't go into details, it's complicated…
…and I suppose you're busy.
I am today. But in three days, you can tell me in person.
- What? - I was able to get a 24-hour leave.
Really?
I need to see you so much.
It'll be great this time, I swear.
Not like my trip to Brussels.
I hope so. But Leo, my love, don't cry.
It's the emotion. I'm crying from happiness.
There, I'm not crying anymore. See what self-control?
I do. Say hi to Betty for me.
Paco says hi.
- So do I. - She says hi too.
- How is she? - She has problems.
- What's wrong? - I don't know. She can't tell me.
- What's wrong? - I'm fed up.
She's fed up. And has professional problems.
- Really? - So it seems.
I have to hang up, my love. Kisses.
For you too, darling. And lots of rocks.
It's strange he called here.
I wasn't home, and you're my only friend.
- Is he coming? - Yes. In three days.
I hope you'll clear up your situation.
Don't shout, listen to him. Don't whine.
Behave like an adult.
We won't fight this time, I swear!
Listen, what does that "rock" thing mean?
You asked if there were rocks in Brussels.
It's our way of saying "I love you" in code.
When we were just married…
…we were taking a walk…
…and we saw an ad for Rock Toilets.
The slogan was, "I love you, Rock."
Since then, when we talk on the phone…
…and we don't want people to understand, we say "rock."
Thatmeans we love each other a lot.
I'm up here, Blanca.
- I found it. - At last!
You took it to the dry-cleaner's two weeks ago.
I can't remember anything. I'm not well, Blanca.
Now I can't find my onyx earrings.
They should be on the dresser.
I can't find them. You look.
I don't like jewelry missing here.
Me neither.
No one comes in here except me.
Leo, this is Angel.
- What a pity. - Are you coming?
Where's the cordless phone?
I just read in an interview we're publishing…
…that Bigas Luna's making a film with a story that's very similar…
…to your Cold-Storage Room.
- Here I am. - You sound strange.
I'm on the speakerphone.
Do you know a scriptwriter named Juan Josй Burйs?
No, I don't.
He's got a script that's suspiciously similar to your novel.
- Bigas Luna is directing it. - Really? What a coincidence.
Maybe it's plagiarism.
I don't think so. You're the only one who's read it.
I suppose you've copyrighted it.
- No. - You haven't?
I wasn't planning on publishing it.
Really, Leo, I don't understand you.
- You're not the plagiarist? - Me?
Plagiarism only bothers me if they copy you or me.
- I'm coming over now. - You didn't answer my question.
Now that you mention it, no. I'll be right there.
I can't find those earrings anywhere.
Good morning. Miguel Yuste, 40, please.
He published it!
'"Amanda Gris: A Good Typist?' by Paz Sufrategui."
'"Amanda Gris: the Alexandre Dumas of Romance Novels. '
By Paki Derm."
Who's Paki Derm?
Welcome, Paz Sufrategui.
I don't want them to know it's me.
Thanks for publishing my article. It's great seeing myself in print.
By the way, who's the writer who wrote in favor?
Paki Derm? Yours truly.
It can't be.
Did I exaggerate with the pachyderm thing? Am I that fat?
Listen, Angel, writing is serious. Even for Amanda Gris.
You weren't very kind to her.
Tomorrow there's a screaming contest in Colmenar de Oreja.
You must come. It's incredible.
- It's lots of fun. - I can't.
A demonstration? The med students are having a great one.
You can write about it.
I'm busy tomorrow. My husband's coming in.
- There's a husband? - Yes.
I knew something separated us.
"An abyss between us," as Amanda Gris says.
This is like the film The Apartment.
Yes, it is.
In that film, Shirley MacLaine falls in love…
…with someone who isn't the person she's really in love with.
Angel, I'm in love with the person…
…I think I'm in love with.
How do I look, Blanca?
Very sexy, ma'am.
Really?
I don't know.
- Paco! - It's my Antonio.
You can go when Paco arrives.
- Come back tomorrow evening. - I rehearse in the evenings.
Then the next day. I want to be alone with my husband.
Of course. Enjoy yourself.
Everyone's waiting for you.
Let them wait. I'm working.
Shit! Who do you think you are, making everyone wait?
This house comes first.
This house? Your son should come first.
What's going on? I heard a bang.
I want to ask you a favor.
I'll do whatever you want.
- Ignore him. - You shut up!
- Don't say that to your mother. - Sorry.
You're making me more nervous than I was. I need a drink.
- Do you want one? - Yes, please.
What is it?
Everyone's waiting for her.
An important producer is coming to see us.
Don't tell her about our problems. She has her own.
You want to take her to the studio?
What are you waiting for?
She's afraid. It's been so long.
- The paella isn't ready. - I'll finish it myself.
- I don't trust you. You're distracted. - You're too much.
Go on. I only need to add the rice, right?
If he comes before you finish it, cover it with tinfoil.
Mr. Paco likes it hot.
- All right. Good luck. - You too.
Thanks, may God hear you.
I won't drink anymore.
Let me close the door.
I could stay here all 24 hours you're on leave.
- Is Blanca here? - No, we're all alone.
Blanca's gone. Where are you going?
To the kitchen. I have shirts to iron.
I can iron them if you want.
She does it better, but…
You're going to iron with such little time?
That's what I'm saying.
Look what I made for you.
Paella.
I made it.
Well, actually Blanca made it. I just added the rice.
It's cold.
I'm not.
- Nothing. I'll microwave it. - Don't like it reheated.
I'm sorry!
I didn't know when you would come…
…because you didn't have the decency to call and tell me.
Sorry, don't get so upset. It's no big deal.
Then kiss me.
I want to shower. I haven't changed all day.
Afterwards, we have to talk.
I have lots of news to tell you.
But it can wait.
First shower, since you want to so much.
Then we'll fuck.
Then we'll rest.
Then fuck again.
And then, who knows?
Come on, I'll help you.
Calm down.
We'll get to bed soon enough.
We have to catch up.
If not, I'll jump the first man I see.
It's the phosphorous, you know.
- What? - You don't remember?
My memory pills. They're aphrodisiacs.
With you gone, I'm going to end up an erotic writer.
Paco, what's wrong?
Nothing.
I have the feeling you're avoiding me.
I'm not.
But I have to tell you something.
- Something? What? - Calm down.
- I'm very calm. - You're not.
What the hell do you want to tell me?
First, promise you'll be reasonable.
- Who's not reasonable? - You.
I don't want yelling or tears.
Who's yelling? Who's crying?
Say it!
I don't have a 24-hour leave.
In two hours, I have to be in Torrejуn.
I'm catching a plane for Split.
- Two hours? - They've changed the schedule.
It's not possible.
- The conflict has worsened. - You're telling me!
Don't act like a child.
I'm a soldier, and I have my duty.
You're my husband. What about your duty to me?
We said we'd park our problems during the war!
I'm sorry, I'm not made of steel!
You can't park me like a car!
Can't you try to understand the situation?
What's there to understand?
Between me and your work, your work wins.
I'm trying to save many lives!
Why not save mine?
I'm talking about innocent people.
People who get killed lining up for bread…
…who have neither electricity nor medicine nor hope.
You're talking about me.
You're the height of selfishness.
Can't you think about anyone but yourself?
No!
You're a son of a bitch…
…for using those poor Bosnians as a pretext!
You volunteered for the peacekeeping mission…
…to run away from the war you had here.
A war where I'm the only victim.
Since the day you decided to join the NATO international forces…
…you've been separating from me.
You could have stayed in the Ministry of Defense if you wanted to.
At least until we solved our problems.
But you just ran away from me.
Why can't you at least admit it?
Answer me!
I hate you.
I wish I could keep hating you like I do now.
The hatred would let me tear him from my life.
God, I don't believe in you, but help me.
You're going?
Paco, I'm talking to you.
What?
You're not going to eat?
Anything else?
You still owe me 30 minutes of my two hours.
Paco, I beg you, give me at least 24 hours.
Wherever, whenever. As soon as possible.
I couldn't stand 24 hours like this last one.
Don't you think we could speak calmly, like two adults?
Before you go, tell me where we stand.
I don't know.
I need to know if you want to save our marriage.
In spite of everything, I do.
Should I interpret your silence as a negative?
Stop pressuring me.
I'm blocked, I can't speak.
The great strategist.
The specialist in major conflicts.
There's no war that compares to you.
I'm slow, and I don't take hints…
…so answer me this one fucking time!
Is there any chance, however small it may be…
…of saving our marriage?
None.
Leo, sweetie, are you home?
Or are you busy?
I'd like to talk to you.
It'll just be a second, okay? Call me.
Are you sure you're not home?
Leo, honey, aren't you home?
I'll keep talking. See if you answer.
I argued with Rosa, and I'm going to the village.
I called to say goodbye.
I'm so depressed, my child.
My blood pressure is so high.
Call me.
And don't believe anything your sister says.
You're not there? I would've liked so much to talk to you.
I can't see anything, honey.
Your mother.
You want me to change it?
Please.
Drink this bottle with me
After we finish it
We'll go
I want to know the taste
Of your indifference
Tonight I'm not going to plead
Tonight you're going for good
It's so difficult to leave you
Though I know you don't Love me anymore
The years haven't Taught me anything
I always keep making The same mistakes
Once again I'll drink with strangers
And cry from the same pain
Now, the flu, Felipe cures it too!
Felipe, the jerk, has dissected all our work!
I LOVE YOU, ROCK
What's wrong?
All of us students want to have the luck…
…of finding a job without us getting fucked!
Getting fucked over here, fucked over there…
…fucked forward, fucked back!
My love, I know you want
To take away my illusion
My love, I know you could also
Take away my soul
But, oh, my love
If you take away my soul
Take away
The pain as well
Take with you all my despair
And also my song
Of suffering
Oh, my love, If you leave me, my life
Let me feel my soul as well
If all that is left in me Is pain and life
Oh, my love Don't let me live
Good morning.
How are you?
Very bad.
What are we doing here?
We're in my new place. It's breakfast time.
- I don't remember anything. - I do.
And I'm going to blackmail you.
Blackmail?
Look out the window.
I must have drunk too much.
And you revealed "the flower of your secret," as Amanda Gris might say.
Forget I'm a journalist.
I won't do anything, on one condition.
What?
Don't pull yesterday's stunt again.
And share your secret with me.
All right?
All right.
Betty, you scared me.
I scared you. You're too much.
Why are you here?
I've been looking for you all night. Why didn't you call?
- Me? - I called the hospitals and the police.
Don't shout, my head hurts.
Do you want a beer? It'll help.
- I've stopped drinking. - And you?
- Take a tranquilizer. - There aren't any.
I took them all last night.
So as I thought, you took a whole bottle of Trankimazin.
Half a bottle. But I'd rather not talk about it.
You never want to talk about it, and you don't let us do it either.
Is there something I haven't let you say?
Is there something?
Don't you wonder how I got in here, who gave me the keys?
Paco!
Weren't you surprised he called me the other day?
- Wasn't it me he called? - No!
What must be done for you to face reality?
What must we do for you to accept reality?
Not hide it from me.
How, if your whole world can fall apart because your boots are too tight?
What are you doing?
Paco's been trying to talk to you for years.
But you always start screaming like a madwoman.
And Paco's not cruel.
Why didn't you tell me? You're an expert.
An expert? In what?
In giving bad news.
You even give seminars to doctors.
- I'm telling you now. - Great.
So now you've told me.
Please go.
I'm not going.
I've broken up with Paco too.
I did it for you.
Last night, when he told me what had happened…
…I asked him how he could leave you in such a state.
He insisted that it was your natural state…
…but since I know you better, I knew how you must have felt.
So I asked for his keys…
…and I came here so you wouldn't be alone.
When I saw the vomit and the empty pill bottle…
…l feared the worst.
You don't know how anxious I've been.
Does he know?
He called from the airport today…
…before getting on the plane.
Is he really going to Split?
He should be there by now.
How long have you been lovers?
Since a few months before he went to Brussels.
Paco came to see me.
You were having a crisis…
…and Paco couldn't stand to see you suffer.
He didn't love you anymore, but he didn't know how to tell you.
He came to me as your friend and a psychologist.
I said that as your friend, I couldn't accept him as a patient.
I recommended a colleague.
But he never saw him.
Paco continued to visit me.
He liked to talk about it with me, as a friend.
And one day, don't ask me how…
…we ended up in each other's arms.
Telephone.
I hear it.
Aren't you going to answer it?
You answer it. It's for you.
Tell him I know everything…
…but wait until I've left.
Is that you, Leo?
- No, it's not. - This is her mother.
Tell her I want to talk to her.
She's coming.
It's your mother.
Hello, Mom, I was about to call you.
I'm so sad. If your father were alive--
Shut up, crabface!
Honey, I'm going to the village.
I can only be comfortable there.
Well, Mom, I'm coming with you.
I'll come pick you up now.
You're coming too? Wonderful!
Leo, listen. No one's thrown her out.
- Your husband. - Santiago?
He didn't throw her out.
He just said he doesn't need her permission to drink.
- She called him a drunkard! - He is!
You have no common sense.
You're the one who doesn't have it.
What do you want? To sit around with my mouth shut?
She treats me like a dog!
Rosa, Mom, please don't shout.
Don't shout, Rosa!
- I'm on my way. - Give me the phone! Leo?
She hung up.
What's wrong with her?
I'm a little worried.
Me too. You're going to kill me.
- Why don't you come to the village? - Me? Give me a break.
I don't want to leave you here with so many problems.
You're going to drive me nuts.
You know who you remind me of?
Of my sister Petra. You're the spitting image of her…
…may she rest in peace.
Those same beautiful lunatic eyes.
Omelet?
How about some pork?
No, Mother. I can't.
Since you started with that weight-loss nonsense…
…you've really gone downhill.
Angel, don't ever go on a diet.
Don't worry, I love to eat.
And you're handsome that way.
She was a chubby little girl.
She weighed 10 pounds when she was born…
…after two days of labor. She wasn't breathing when she came out.
Thank God my late mother-in-law was like a sergeant and said:
"Take her outside." I said, "It's freezing.
You don't know how cold it gets here during winter."
But she was like a sergeant. We took the baby outside…
…she reacted, and she made it.
Remember, Leocadia?
How would I remember that?
No, I mean the poem I wrote about the village:
Beautiful is the morning, Leo.
The sun sparkles…
…the flowers offer their perfumes…
…the orchard is rustling.
From branch to branch, without stopping…
…the joyous birdies flutter and sing…
…and their chirping enchants me.
You can hear the soft bleating…
…of the flocks of sheep…
…that stand out against the pasture like snowflakes.
Here stands a small hut…
…home for shepherds…
…there, a white cottage…
…whiter than a lily.
Afterwards, we come to a farm.
Next to the farm, there's a garden.
Next to the garden, a house.
And next to the house, a church.
The hill is covered with oaks…
…the valley with fruit…
…and the river with many trees.
Do you know what it is?
It's my village.
It's Jacinta! It's Jacinta!
I heard a car, and I said to myself, "That's Jacinta."
How are you? What are you doing here?
- And Leo? - I came with her.
There she is. What happened?
She must have tripped on the curb.
Don't worry, Jacinta, she's all right.
Open the door.
Open it.
Don't worry, she's all right.
This way.
You haven't touched the broth.
What's wrong, Leo?
I'm going crazy, Mom.
You? Your sister is, but you're not.
Yes, like Aunt Petra…
…like Grandmother, crazy.
It's Paco, isn't it?
I was imagining it. Yes, I was.
My poor child.
So young and already like a cow without a cowbell.
Like a cow without a cowbell?
Yes, lost…
…with no direction, drifting, like me.
Like you?
I'm like a cow without a cowbell too.
But at my age, that's more normal.
That's why I want to live here in the village.
When we women lose our husband…
…because he's died or left with another woman, it's the same.
We have to return to the place where we were born…
…visit the village chapel…
…sit outside with the neighbors and pray novenas with them…
…even if you're not believers.
Because if we don't, we get lost like a cow without a cowbell.
My child.
With the effort it took me to raise you.
- And the ones with the big head? - Pins.
- And the others? - Needles.
Of course.
- Do you know the saying? - Which one?
"Jealousy is a needle that keeps me from living.
If you want to know about jealousy, ask me."
And me.
How's Aunt Valentina?
- She jumped into the well. - Where?
- Into the well. - She killed herself?
Yes. She was there a long time until some workmen saw her…
…and called her son, who came to see her…
…and they pulled her out, just like that.
I didn't know you had an aunt.
She was great. She used to tell me fantastic stories.
She was a good woman, but so lonely.
She was lonely and very tall, and very…You know.
Why don't you sing me a song?
- A song? Well… - Yes, a song, before I get depressed.
What about the one called "I'm from Almagro"?
Come on.
I'm from Almagro I'm from AImagro
I'm from the rich riverside
Where embroidery is made
Where eggplant is cooked
Eggplant is cooked
I'm from Almagro I'm from Almagro
I'm from the rich riverside
- Leocadia, phone call. - For me?
Isn't your name Leocadia?
- Who is it? - Who knows?
- Man or woman? - Woman, sweetie, woman.
Leo? It's Alicia.
Alicia. How did you get my phone number?
You sent it with your last package.
My last package.
We love these last two novels, sweetheart.
It's the best you've written in a long time.
I'm glad.
Listen, I read they're making a film with a plot…
…identical to your Cold-Storage Room.
I've read that too.
Quite a coincidence, isn't it?
I don't know.
You know, Tomбs is paranoid, and I don't believe it…
…but you haven't sold it with another name, have you?
Me? When you rejected it, I stuck it in a drawer.
No one would have stolen it?
Could it have been stolen from you, Alicia?
You have the only copy.
Who would steal it from me?
Your son, the junkie.
He's stolen things before.
He could photocopy it in an hour.
And since it was so bad, I didn't copyright it.
You didn't?
Why copyright garbage like that?
Leo, garbage should be copyrighted too.
I'll ask my son.
Anyway, I think it's better to forget it.
The main thing is that Amanda Gris is back.
Yes, that's the important thing.
Leo, what a pleasure.
Did you give my phone number to my publishers? Alicia called me.
Yes, I did. Why?
They've received two Amanda Gris novels…
…and I didn't write or send them.
- You didn't tell her? - Of course not.
Thank God.
Did you happen to write them?
Don't tell me they noticed and have rejected them?
No, they're ecstatic.
But why didn't you tell me?
I was afraid you'd say no.
I'm sorry. But cheer up. You're free now.
When do you come back?
Soon, I'm afraid.
Paco's started the divorce procedures.
Call me. I live to see you again.
I'll call you.
But I don't like you doing that without telling me.
Not even Prince.
- I'm dead tired. - I'm not surprised…
…considering your weight.
Angel, I'm grateful, but I'm taking advantage of you.
I've done ghostwriting before.
I've never had a ghostwriter before.
You'll get used to it.
What about you?
I always wanted to be a romance writer.
You're so frivolous.
How long will your fun last?
Until the end of your contract.
What do you want in exchange?
I wasn't thinking.
Think.
You keep 20 percent of the royalties, like an agent.
And I'll take 80 percent. Are you happy now?
Yes. Are you?
Me? If you are.
Why didn't you tell me you were coming?
Why didn't you tell me you were such a great artist?
I've been taking advantage of you.
- You've helped us very much. - Me?
More than you think.
Excuse me.
You know each other?
- From the telephone. - Really?
She keeps me informed.
- When did you get here? - Just now.
I came here directly.
Blanca, you were amazing. Simply amazing.
Amazing, amazing, amazing.
- You're so exaggerated. Antonio. - And your son!
- My son? - Amazing, amazing, amazing.
Antonio, come here. Look who's here.
Anything wrong?
Nothing.
Nothing, no.
You were ecstatic in the theater.
And now you're about to cry.
Is my company so unpleasant?
You reminded me of Paco.
We went to Athens three years ago.
It's not like Madrid. There aren't many bars.
We were walking down the street, and Paco began to play soccer…
…with some cardboard boxes.
He was like a little boy.
The only pleasant memory I have from that trip.
Playing soccer is strictly forbidden.
From now on, only ballet.
If a top can spin…
…I can dance.
Did you hurt yourself?
- I've broken everything. - Come on, please don't be silly.
Come on, help me. Up you go.
Better?
Do you remember Casablanca?
The first time Ingrid Bergman enters Rick's?
They both sit down at the same table.
Bogart is rigid, speechless from emotion.
Ingrid asks him…
…if he remembers the last time they'd been together.
It was in Paris.
He answers, stone-faced:
"I'll never forget that day."
The day the Germans occupied Paris.
"The Germans wore gray, and you wore blue."
You wore blue the day you fled from your life and ran into mine.
I don't want to remember it.
I'll always remember it.
I'll take you home. You're drunk.
Stay with me.
No. I have to go home.
Alone?
You've become so strong.
I liked you better fragile.
I still am fragile.
My suitcases are still in the car.
I don't dare take them up.
I'm not strong at all.
But I have to learn to live there without Paco.
Let's have a drink then.
It'll give you strength.
I also have to learn to live without alcohol.
No Paco and no alcohol.
The sooner I start, the better.
I'm not going to answer.
It's Antonio.
- Can I come up? - Yes, Antonio.
What's the matter?
My mother told me to bring you this.
- At this hour? - You know what she's like.
Whiskey! I've stopped drinking.
But I can start again if you join me.
Do you want a drink? Say yes.
Yes, of course.
There's no ice. Do you mind?
Are you sleeping here tonight?
Yes. At least I'm going to try.
Alone?
Yes. Why?
Do you want me to stay?
Don't test me. Drink up and go. Cheers.
I have to confess something to you.
Go ahead.
I stole some things from you.
- What? - Some jewelry. Nothing important.
While I was away?
No, when you were here.
Taking advantage of your amnesia, I took what I could.
I also took that novel from the garbage can.
The Cold-Storage one. I gave it to a friend, who sold it to a movie producer.
They're making a movie.
I read about it.
So it was you.
- But I'm not a thief. - Of course not.
The money went to the show.
It was the only way I could finance it.
I needed that chance.
Did your mother steal from me too?
My mother? She's anti-theft.
She got so angry when she found out.
The day Mr. Paco came…
You found us arguing.
The day of the paella.
It was because she'd caught me.
She didn't even want to dance,
She loves you a hell of a lot.
I love her too.
She always reminds me how much we owe you.
And you've come to pay?
How many fucks will clear up the debt?
How much am I worth?
Please don't say those things, ma'am.
I'll pay back every last peseta.
Don't worry about it.
You couldn't have invested better than in that wonder I saw tonight.
You mean that?
Life is so incredible.
So cruel and so paradoxical.
So unpredictable and sometimes so fair.
If you say it is.
Should I stay or should I go?
Go before I lose control and forget that I'm a marvelous lady.
And thank you, Antonio.
Thank you? For what?
For giving meaning to the darkest months in my life.
And for helping me forget Paco.
I haven't thought of him for 15 minutes.
May I come in?
The things you ask.
This reminds me of the end of Rich and Famous.
The two friends, writers…
…making a toast, alone…
…far from the world in front of afire.
But you don't drink…
…and it was New Year's Eve. That's why they toasted.
Give me a drink, and I'll make it New Year's Eve.
Kiss me.
If it's New Year's Eve, I want contact with human flesh.
And you're the only flesh around here.