Het Diner Page #2

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Why do you always ask me

what to wear?

- You always wear what you want anyway.

- I like the ritual.

I just did my hair.

He's not home.

Sure?

- Hi, mom.

- Hi, sweetie.

Hi, dad.

We're too early.

Or rather, we're very much on time.

- And that's not chic.

- No, better too late than too early.

There we go.

It's so great that Michel still thinks...

I'm the kind of father

who knows where the valves are.

- Where were you? He was looking for you.

- In the bathroom.

Think there's something

going on with a girl?

No.

No, I don't think so.

He's been acting odd lately.

Well, not odd but...

different, a bit distant.

- Don't you think?

- Yes, could be.

Did he say anything to you?

We talk about different things

than you guys.

That's why I thought

it was something about a girl.

Something he finds it easier to tell you.

If only that were true,

something about a girl.

Wouldn't that be great?

Like a normal family.

Mom, can Chantal, Charleen,

Charize stay the night?

Sure, but only if Chantal's, Charleen's,

Charize's parents say it's OK.

It's just that this year

is tougher than he thought.

You might be right.

But we do have to be careful that he

doesn't suddenly stop trusting us.

And that we get used to that.

Of course.

It's just that at this age

he's entitled to a private life.

Shampoo and something else.

Something warm.

The smell of happiness.

The smell of something you can lose

from one day to the next.

- What's this?

- It's supposed to be the Dutch 'Noma'.

Good evening.

Hello.

Serge Lohman.

- Did you say Mr Lohman?

- Yes, Lohman.

- But you aren't Mr Lohman.

- Aren't I?

- No.

- I certainly am.

I'm his brother.

Please go on through.

Good evening.

- Would you rather have a view of the exit?

- No.

Tonight I only want to see your face.

At least Serge can look at himself

all night.

Usually, I want to be able

to monitor everything.

I sit with my back to the garden,

or the wall, or the open kitchen.

Claire sacrifices herself.

There's something in her,

a kind of inner peace or power...

which allows her to be content

with walls and open kitchens.

My own Dalai Lama.

What makes you say that?

Don't know. Popped into my head.

Did you see that guy?

Isn't that woman too young for him?

Calm down.

Do you work for the vice squad?

We're here, so let's try

to enjoy ourselves.

- Enjoy ourselves?

- Sure.

You seem to be much more alert lately.

In every department. Am I right?

You stopped taking your pills.

So?

- I love the old Paul.

- The dangerous Paul.

Greek olives from the Peloponnesos

with a light drizzle...

of the new yield of North Sardinian

extra virgin olive oil.

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