La môme aux boutons Page #3

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He's completely messed up.

Is the girl part of the act?

Hold on.

Do something.

Before they go, do something.

Come on, do something.

Bravo!

That's my daughter!

Grasse. October 1963

I'm sick of this carrot juice.

-You'll drink it as long as I'm nursing you.

I like it dark.

-The sun will do you good.

It's hard I know,

but you need a lot of rest...

...and patience.

Your husband phoned today...

-No point.

What bothers me

is that I exaggerated.

The past 3 years were awful.

You're a performer.

Simone?

I suppose I'll never sing again?

Paris, Montmartre.

October 1935

What's up with you?

I'm hungry.

First we sing, then we eat.

Sing alone and you're a beggar.

When you're a duo it's a show.

I want to sing here.

Hey, you!

No street singing allowed.

Is that a fact?

How old are you?

-Twenty.

What's that?

She's had hardly anything to drink.

-Come here.

Do you know 'Du Gris'?

Oh, sir...

-Shut up!

If you sing that, I'll let you go.

That's my beat.I'll look the other way.

Next week it's our 21st.

Sisters for 5 years.

What do you prefer, working with me

or in the factory?

I'd rather cut my own throat.

How about you?

What do you mean?

Killing yourself in your little milk shop?

-Shut up! Not while we're eating.

Anetta, no moaning, okay?

Look, it's your drunken mother.

Edith?

Do you have any change?

That's all?

-I haven't much money.

Give me some bank notes.

-I don't have any.

I'm your mother.

-Go to hell!

Shall I sing a song?

-Throw her out!

I'm a performer. What about you?

You'll find out!

What'll I find out?

-When you're lying in the gutter.

Keep it down or leave!

-When you're in need...

F*** off!

...don't depend on your daughter

giving you a bite to eat.

That's enough.

-I'm off. Have the rest if you want.

You're no singer, you slut!

-Leave her alone or you'll answer to me.

Oh, don't bother with that lot!

F*** you!

Go and prostitute yourself on the street!

While you still can!

Thanks very much.

You'll ruin your voice doing that.

-I have to eat.

Of course you do.

I'm Louis Leple.

Here's my card. Come round to Gerney's,

tomorrow at two.

Are you a singer?

-No, but I have other talents.

Bring your music with you,

whatever you intend singing.

What if I don't come?

That's up to you, my girl.

This is all you have to show for a whole day?

This is how you reward my belief in you?

I've put a little aside for my father.

He's sick and he's broke.

I'm not a social worker.

-No really. He's sick.

If I toss you out on the street

maybe you'll get it.

Let her go!

Never! I'd rather starve than be a whore.

If you die, it's your own fault!

-Shut up!

I want MORE, is that clear?

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