Road Games Page #3

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Really, Jack, don't worry.

I'm sorry,

I... I must assist my wife.

What the hell did you just

say to him?

Aah, t'es chiant!

Look, I'm sorry, okay...

I don't want to argue

with you.

How did you get that scar

on your back?

I saw it in the shower.

Oh, my stepdad.

Mum's boyfriend, whatever.

Uh, we got into an argument

when I was 12.

We were on a road trip

in France, actually.

He lost it, and hit me

with a metal bar.

I got 10 stitches.

Sh*t.

I hit him back,

in the face.

He didn't bother me again

after that.

Never actually told anyone

about that before.

Well, my father

never hit me, but..

How did they, you know..

Sorry.

No, no, it's okay.

They say it's good

to talk about it.

- Do you understand?

- Yeah.

You have a brother, right?

Frere.

It's silly,

but I've never been to England.

Why don't you come

with me then?

Yeah.

It's not just

an empty suggesture?

No, it's not

an empty gesture.

Seriously, come with me.

But just for the record..

I wanted to do that

since I first saw you.

- Liar.

- Really.

What, when you saw me

in the car with that weirdo?

Well, maybe it was just

a minute after that.

- See?

- I'm not lying.

Can't wait to get back

on the road

And get out

of this weird place.

Sh*t.

It's lashing outside.

We just missed it.

Goodnight, Jack.

Goodnight.

Are you alright?

I'm fine.

Come here.

I'll be alright, really.

- Thanks.

- It's the least I could do.

I'm sorry.

For what?

Everything.

Dinner.

Don't be.

It's not your fault.

Thank you.

What happened to you, Jack?

It's complicated.

Yeah.

It always is.

I like your tattoo,

by the way.

Oh.

From when I was young and free.

Like a butterfly.

It somehow seemed personal

to me

Like a butterfly reminded me..

Of myself.

What can I say?

I was young.

You're still young.

And what's age anyway?

Help yourself to anything

in the kitchen, Jack.

Make yourself at home.

No. No. F*** the medicine!

Just f*** them!

Do you hear me?

I didn't mean to disturb you.

You're not disturbing me

at all.

Come in!

I'm sitting here in the dark

Alone, by myself.

I'm afraid you can

no longer go home.

I'm sorry?

Tomorrow you'll have to stay.

What do you mean?

- The strike.

- Oh, right.

By the look of things,

the ferries will run again

In 2 or 3 days,

maybe, at the best.

Oh.

But as I said, you stay here

and make yourself comfortable.

I'm not sure.

I need to speak to Veronique.

We'll see more

in the morning.

We say, demain est

un autre jour.

No need to worry.

Oh.

Well..

That's hardly a crime,

is it?

Anyway, he put it on the desk.

It was just there.

I'm sorry.

You'll have to excuse me.

I'm a bit of a night owl,

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