Pulsar Page #3

She seems nice.

- Yes, really nice.

One more minute!

Wait!

Specially for you.

It's grown, eh?

- Yes.

This is Verdonck.

You tried to call me?

Yes, to tell you about

the light in the attic.

Yes, Mrs. Luyckx told me.

What did you say?

I've rented the room, Sam,

because I'm not often in Brussels.

But you promised that room to Mireille.

- Really?

She needs that space

to store her models.

I've already rented the room

to John Everts.

Perhaps he'll sublet it to you,

if you ask him in your best English.

I must be off, Sam.

I had something to say,

but I've forgotten.

Silly, eh?

Liesbeth is pregnant.

"Hey, sweetie.

Are you awake?"

"What was Coney Island like?

Want to hear your voice.

Going to leave this dumb job...

and do what I really want,

love you full time!"

"So lovely!

Who was the lucky photographer?."

Is it safe?

I wouldn't do that.

Isn't that poisonous?

Is it safe?

I make a model,

you take care of the papers.

Sh*t!

sun record

"OK, Sam. I will - M"

to reject:
give someone the push,

dump them.

"Darling Mireille,

I didn't write that!"

Sh*t!

No, they've broken up.

Sam told me himself.

New York?

What are you going to do there?

I was thinking about the red plexiglass.

Mark.

- Samson, am I disturbing you?

No.

- Want to go jogging later?

No, I'm still busy here.

OK. Heard anything from Mireille?

- Nothing.

I wouldn't insist if I was you.

She'll beg you to come, you'll see.

Right. Absence makes

the heart grow fonder.

Exactly!

Is the new modem working OK?

Yeah, great.

- I spoke to David again,

he can come over Friday or Saturday

to double-check everything.

If you'd like him to.

- Yes, great.

Have you got his number?

- Yes.

OK, comrade, I'll be off.

- Bye.

"Darling Mireille..."

I brought you some bread buns.

I made them this morning with Mum.

These are currant buns...

a sesame bun,

a poppy seed bun,

three chocolate cookies,

a brown loaf

and some banana bread.

- Thanks!

There you are.

- Thank your mother.

Yes, I will.

- Thanks.

Hey, Dad.

- Samuel?

Is something wrong?

- No. I'm ringing with grandma's phone.

With grandma's phone?

At 3:
30 in the morning?

Have you gone crazy?

- I lost track of time.

Samuel, how are you?

Not too many words. How are you?

- Me?

No, not too many words.

How are you?

Better than you.

- Yes.

This thing works well.

Can you hear the plane?

Hear it? In 4 minutes

it'll be at your place.

I'll just have to go down

to the air-raid shelter.

Who is it?

- Nothing, it's Samuel.

He forgot what time it was.

The time difference with New York

has got me confused.

But how are you?

I lay awake all night,

but I slept very well.

I was tortured by a chiropractor.

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