Fred watches the scene without batting an eyelid while he inserts his key into the lock and disappears into his room.

18

Fred is in his room. He starts to undress. As he is taking off his shirt, his attention is caught by an inexplicable muffled sound coming from the bathroom. He goes over to open the door and finds his daughter Lena sitting on the edge of the bath, sobbing, wallowing in tears. Fred is taken aback and, for a moment, speechless. “What are you doing here?”

Still in tears, she makes no reply.

“Shouldn’t you be on a plane to Polynesia?”

She sobs even more loudly.

“Where’s Julian?”

Lena emits a word that comes out like the moan of some strange animal. It is difficult to understand what she says. She goes back to her tears.

“Well, are you going to answer me?”

But she says nothing. She cannot say anything. She can only cry.

19

Mick Boyle is lying fully dressed on the bed surrounded by papers and laptops, chatting away happily on the telephone despite it being the middle of the night.

Pacing about the room, concentrating hard and anxious to know the outcome of the call, are his young scriptwriters.

“Very good, Nick. I’m glad you find the second draft convincing . . . Yes, we’re still working on the ending, we’re not entirely satisfied with it either . . . I’ve spoken to Brenda. Everything’s fine . . . Yes, of course she can’t wait. I mean, how often does she come across a character like that at her age? Yes, I know, she’s fickle, but she’s fine with me. She’s always saying I’m the best in the world with actresses, that I’m the only one who knows how to deal with them. I’ll start searching for locations next month, if you’re agreeable . . . Perfect. Great. Ciao.”

Happy with the result, the scriptwriters exchange smiles and pats on the back.

Mick replaces the receiver and looks up.

Only now do we discover the presence of Fred Ballinger sitting in an armchair.

“What’s the matter with you? You’re pulling such a long face,” Mick asks him.

“Your son has just left my daughter.”

“Shit!” a scriptwriter says.

“You what?”

“They were just boarding the plane and on the gangway he stopped and told her he had fallen in love with another woman.”

“Yes, gangways make you feel as if you’re on a gangway, on the edge.”

“How very profound! You’re a real wizard with the metaphor, aren’t you?” Fred replies, full of irony.

The scriptwriters snigger.

“And so he’s gone off with this other woman?”

“No, it appears he’s had the decency not to do so. At least up till today.”

“And Lena?”

“Lena’s in my room. She can’t stop crying. I’ve never seen a person cry so much in all my life. I didn’t think you could cry as much as that.”

“One time,” Mick says, “I read in a magazine that the tear glands can produce enough tears for three whole days without stopping.”