I loved it.
Is that what happens? It gets addictive?
If you're the type.
Why did you tell me about the explosives?
When I got in the car?
One question at a time.
...you are the type.
You said you would try to lie to me as little as possible.
You wanted me to say no, didn't you?
Is it wrong, Gadi?
What we're doing?
Or were you trying to help me for another reason?
You should run a bath.
You need to relax.
But don't fall asleep whilst I'm in it.
Because I'm going to drink myself stupid.
I heard room service.
Make me a drink.
After tonight, you don't know when you'll see me again.
You're going home.
Leaves the audience wanting more.
Uncertainty is the way we live.
Every night together can be our last.
Then we'd better make the most of it.
Your drink's ready.
Our best, best girl.
from now on, we won't be writing the play.
Now the play has to come to you, in England.
I'm booked on a job as As You Like It.
And before you go, there is someone we think you should meet.
In a way, you are already well acquainted.
When I was 11...
...I crouched in a home-made shelter,
while the Jordanians poured rockets into our camp.
What did you do to him?
He is sedated.
We haven't touched a hair on his pretty head.
Come on, Charlie.
This is important for your role.
- What's in that thing? - Never mind.
So the fiction becomes truth.
They'll question you, Charlie.
You need to know every inch.
I said, "That's enough."
Now put some clothes on him.
What did you expect?
I know that was difficult, Charlie.
You should save your sympathy for the innocent.
He's a child!
He killed a child!
Your British government
promised Palestine to the Arabs and to the Jews.
That's when all this started.
What's that got to do with me?
Being naive does not absolve you.
不 可以的 可以的
Yes, it does! Yes, it does!
You can't have it both ways.
Victim one day, tyrant the next.
An actress one day, a moralist the next?
How do you live with it, Gadi?
What? Where are you taking me?
Never call me Gadi again.
These are photocopies of his letters to you.
You kept the originals in your flat.
Mine to him?
Charlie the romancer.
Charlie the penitent.
Charlie the hard-nosed bitch.
Thank you, Jose.
If you could just lend me that gun of yours
and I'll just pop outside and shoot myself.
You're in love.
You need to write these out in your own handwriting.
Let the thoughts become yours.
You really think they'll come for me?
What about Michel?
If you hold him in there for too long,
they'll know something's up.
You need to let him go.
Or at least put him on trial.
He'll be accounted for.
Each letter a different pen.
I am waiting.
I am alone without you.
This grey city is a tomb.
I can't sleep.
I can't eat.
..of your body burn inside me.
I want you to tear me apart.
To piece me back together.
Make me a new face.
A new body.
Make me another soul.
As you said...
..our bodies and bloods will be mixed.
This thought is all that can sustain me
through these hollow nights of yearning.
The balm to the ache of your absence.
I would have it that we would be...
Our bodies and bloods will be mixed.
You're going home, Charlie.
That's where they'll come for you.
The psychopath admits...
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