In May 68, every Tuesday, after school, Caroline
would go to the 16th arrondissement to try to grow up.
In Caroline's family, everyone was big, except for her great-grandfather,
who died in the street on the eve of World War II, while going to the office.
The doctor, a great specialist in zoos, in charge of growing up Caroline,
would hang her up by a pulley system for a quarter of an hour.
For a quarter of an hour, the doctor would leave Caroline
alone to go to another room, or even another hanging room.
For a quarter of an hour, Caroline waited without
impatience, but without any hope of growing up.
Your mother told me you were going to start liquidation.
That's not a good idea at all.
If you really want to grow up, you shouldn't go on horseback.
It sucks, you understand, it sucks.
It's the spine, the boom boom in the cell, all the vertebrae, the clack clack,
one against the other.
Very bad for growth.
There's nothing worse.
Well, I say that.
Would you talk about it with your mother?
Before hanging her up, the doctor crossed her arms and looked at her for a moment.
It was for Caroline the most unpleasant moment of the session, of the day,
of the week, of the beginning of May 68.
How old are you already?
Ten and a half.
Well, you can get dressed.
You have big feet, big hands.
Maybe the rest will follow.
Maybe patient.
You'll tell your mother, won't you?
My great-grandfather had big feet and big hands.
Was he small, too?
He was a great rider.
In my mother's family, girls weren't allowed to ride horses.
Well, not really.
Me, too.
But this small grin, you do it all the time.
Is it a tick?
No, it's my lips.
They are curled up.
The doctor told Caroline to reassure her mother.
It wouldn't be seen when her breasts would have grown.
Caroline didn't say anything to her mother.
Besides, in her family, we didn't say the breasts.
We said the chest.
It's all the same, with hope, in her name, I salute the year 1968.
It seems that our industry, our agriculture, our trade...
Isabelle, Caroline, go and see Jeanne.
In May 1968, Caroline's mother was very fond of General de Gaulle.
And the rest of the time, she was bored to death.
They are now dedicated to the state.
The year 1968.
Caroline's father was never there.
He would sometimes come home from the bank to change clothes, shoes or tie.
The rest of the time, according to Caroline's mother,
who often made him notice, he didn't bother at all.
What are you doing?
What is it?
Show me!
Show me or I'll tell mom!
Caroline had a secret drawer in her head.
She put away the things we don't talk about and closed the drawer with a key.
No, no!
Roland!
I don't like it when you do that.
The illimited strike order, launched by the
great trade unions, struck France in paralysis.
From Dunkerque to Marseille, from Brest to France... We'll see if we can find bread.
Why is there no bread?
The bread and the sugar, that's how the war always starts.
We have to drink some tea, Isabelle.
Isabelle, isn't the tea from Jeanne good?
And the gas too.
It's the same as when students take out the
gas stations to light fire on the barricades.
When Jeanne was in her bad days, she rusted with liquid love and omegas perfume.
Jeanne loves you so much, so much, so much...
When she was in her bad days, she smelled pectin and liked girls much less.
Girls, she loved them so much.
But it was all part of the things we don't talk about.
Rolline, can you lend me your pen to show it to Cato?
She loves it, but I said yours was better.
Can you lend it to me?
No.
Please, I'll give it to you at the exit.
She's going to make fun of me, Cato.
She's going to say I'm just a pretender.
At that time, Caroline and Isabelle were half-pensioners in Sainte-Thérèse,
a very strict religious school of the 16th arrondissement,
where they were informed, among other things, about their guilt.
The adults think that most of the time, the little ones pass unnoticed.
Caroline, who was advancing in life by order of size, was well placed to know
that most of the time, it's wrong and that it's difficult, even impossible,
when you always find yourself in the first row, to avoid the look of God.
Martyrs, my little girls, are the true children of God.
God loves them, he loves their suffering.
He looks at their blood shed for him and he smiles,
because the blood of the martyrs is a seed of Christians.
Yes, Caroline, you have a question to ask me.
What is a seed?
Do you find it funny?
No, mademoiselle.
Me neither.
Go erase the painting.
Go ahead, Caroline, hurry up.
There are too many of them, my Brue.
How many did you say?
Six.
Did you say liar?
Yes, that's what I say every time.
Evolute?
No, but if he repeats mademoiselle Paul...
He won't repeat it?
He doesn't have the right.
What do you know?
I'm warning you, he stinks like a pig.
Evil with my little sister, selfish, poor, unjust, indifferent to others.
That's all.
Are you sure?
Look at the bottom of your heart.
Egoist?
Have you already said that?
Obscene.
Do you know what obscene means?
To invent a sin that we didn't commit is also a sin.
I didn't invent it, it was on the list.
And by making fun of me, you make fun of the Lord.
I'm not making fun of you, my father.
Go to the peace of Christ.
My father, aren't we going to tell mademoiselle Paul?
And stop making nonsense.
It's not nonsense, it's my lips.
Go to the peace of Christ.
Oh la la, what are you doing?
Girls, the mistress has something to tell you.
The current situation unfortunately forces us to close the school for a while.
As long as possible, of course.
Your mother takes you to Chantilly, far from disorder and chauvinism.
And let him go, mom.
We didn't take it to heart the decision to interrupt classes.
It is not a matter of rejoicing, as an unpleasant
recreation or an additional period of vacation.
Do you understand?
Be very wise and pray for the return to calm.
A spring, precocious, congestional to the capital.
Filling the hearts of some with burning desires
and those of others with unfeeling fears.
Some pray for assault on the streets of Paris.
Others take the road of the exodus.
At the beginning of May 68, when she fled to Chantilly with her mother, her little
sister and provisions of sugar, Caroline did not doubt that the
revolution, her chauvinism and her disorders were
going to change forever the course of her life.
Good night, mom.
When do you think you're going to quit tomorrow?
A real lesson for you alone, with an ancient framework.
What a chance you have.
You know your uncle Pierre?
He also learned to ride a horse with a black framework, like Mr. Perrac.
What is the black framework?
He took lessons twice a week, and every time, an hour before, he had the colic.
Mom, the guy had corner legs.
She said he had fragile intestines.
Corner legs, what a joke.
Poor mom.
But I assure you, Pierre's horse was not weak.
Horses have horns and horns.
If I had had the chance of Pierre, if I had been allowed to ride,
to really ride, not a little ride like that from time to time in the courtyard,
I assure you that I would not have had the colic.
Well, enough babbling.
A big Dodo could be in good shape tomorrow.
I'm happy, you know.
Me too.
Good night, mom.
When I grow up, I don't want to be a boy.
And you?
Dodo... Do you have the colic?
No.
If you tell mom, I'll tell her that it was
you who took her bracelet to show it to Kato.
I put it back after.
You said it wasn't you.
What she doesn't like, mom, is when we lie.
The horse was not weak.
Martyrs are a seed, this Christian.
A seed, this Christian.
I'm coming, mom, I'm coming.
What were you doing?
I couldn't find my stick anymore.
Are you okay, my dear?
Hello, mademoiselle.
Hello, sir.
See you later, my dear.
Have a good time.
I entrust it to you, sir.
It was the first time that Caroline saw
Mr. Perrac, and already, he took all the place.
Horses are proud of the trouillards.
Are you okay?
I'm sorry.
It's my fault.
But I didn't do it on purpose.
No one does it on purpose.
Except the stuntmen.
Or the trouillards.
Do you want to become a real cavalry?
Yes.
Then get ready to fall often.
It will almost always be your fault, but you will never do it on purpose.
In any case, not with me.
In the waterfall, it's a feast.
It's a circus.
Equipment, mademoiselle.
Equipment, that's something else.
Caroline, is that it?
Yes.
Come on, horse.
Good.
Lower the thighs.
The calves, in contact with the horse.
The heel down, flexible, without blocking them.
Thumb above.
Hand separated, parallel.
Hands away from the width of the body.
Fingers alive, always in contact with the horse's mouth.
Never let the horse be in the void.
But without pulling on the mouth.
Never clinging to the horse's mouth.
It's no use.
Shoulders tight to the body.
Arms out of the hips.
I look at them... far away.
There.
Come on, let's go in.
Caroline had dead legs.
Her legs in cotton and her hands soft.
She was so happy that she would have wanted to die.
Did it go well?
Absolutely well.
We're going to be a real knight.
Perfect.
Oh, but you were hot, tell me.
No, it's my bomb that's too tight.
We don't say a bomb, we say a knock.
So, see you tomorrow.
You say goodbye, Caroline.
Goodbye, sir.
Goodbye, Caroline.
At this second, very precisely, an unusual friction.
The commune, spring breeze, ironed the hair
of the forefathers of the mother, Caroline.
And she decided that during this month of
May 68, she would temporarily stop her life.
If you really like me, it makes me happy.
Hello, sir, it's Caroline.
Girls, it's served.
Good evening, girls.
Good evening, dad.
We started without you, the girls were hungry.
No importance.
So girls, do you like the exodus?
It seems that all this amuses you.
What is the exodus?
It doesn't amuse me.
It fascinates me.
Yes, I am grotesque.
While dad is passionate about Paris, we will continue
to get bored very wisely at the construction site.
Right, girls?
Yes, when?
Until the liberation or the capture of the Bastille.
The choice.
Caroline.
From Monday, you start in the morning at 8.30 to 6.00 in the evening.
At Mr. Pérac, every day except on Sunday.
Are you happy?
We ride our horses all the time.
I don't know, you'll see.
And me?
By the way, do you know who your boyfriend was married to?
What boyfriend?
Pérac.
Your stepson-in-law.
But it's not my stepson-in-law.
I'm your daughter, then.
My friend Claude Mercier knew him well when he was in Algeria.
He has a wife and four sons in Bled.
What is Bled?
He left his beautiful world in the corner of a dune
and since then he doesn't want to hear about it.
According to Mercier, his wife was something.
I even believe that Mercier himself...
He is severe.
He wants me to be a real cavalier.
They are like me, they are fake.
They are fake.
And with the fake ones, he is severe.
He doesn't want them, he sends them home.
Do you have to be a real cavalier?
Yes.
Because of mom?
I'm always afraid of falling asleep and praying.
So I do it in advance.
It doesn't count if we do it in advance.
If it counts, it's the evening prayer.
As soon as it's over, it counts.
What's his name again?
I'm Monsieur.
And when I think of him...
Monsieur Périnque.
Monsieur Périnque was so terribly sad and so terribly beautiful that Caroline
promised to die for him as often as possible.
Hello Monsieur, it's Caroline.
Throughout the week, Caroline was the only student of Monsieur Périnque.
Throughout the week, she was determined to become a real cavalier while her horse was
determined to prove to her that he wasn't stupid.
While the workers' union and the students were gathering in Gare de l'Est,
a young woman landed for the first time in Paris from Quimper.
Her name was Marie-France.
She thought she could find a stable job in the capital, the case of a husband,
and had no plans of falling into a revolution.
Marie-France would have met a young Trotskyist who would
have become a father of a family a few years later.
Very acceptable.
But as a young woman, she liked action, not disorder.
She preferred to turn her back on the revolution and went to Chantilly,
far away from a friend of her mother's aunt.
If the storm that swept the streets of Paris had swept Marie-France in its
whirlwind, Caroline would have stayed small all her life.
Why don't I have a horse?
Because you could have a mortal accident.
And not you?
It's not the same for me.
Why?
Because...
Thank you, Jeanne.
You can tell me if you want, I don't care.
I'll kill you at night while you sleep.
Are you all right?
Where are we going?
We're going to do the shirt and the armpits.
You know, today...
It's so nice, isn't it?
While Caroline's mother was struggling, but using her weapons to fight,
Marie-France didn't find a job in Chantilly.
The friend of her mother's aunt suggested that she
take equities lessons with a mature man, but divorced.
Marie-France decided to try her luck as a cavalrywoman.
Caroline ate small pieces of food with her beautiful hero and tried to hold back time.
During many love encounters in her adult life, she would never find an intensity of
feelings similar to the one she felt during her head-to-head, completely numb,
with Mr. Perrac, in May 68.
Free district, Caroline.
I'm going to close accounts.
Didn't you see my pipe?
For my tobacco.
You left them in the office.
I'm going.
When Caroline was too close to Mr. Perrac, he took so
much space that she had trouble being completely happy.
What do I do without him?
But as soon as he was no longer there, she could start thinking about him,
but she couldn't even see herself.
Next time, Miss, don't let yourself be carried away like a pack of noodles.
And in the back, in the saddle.
Don't hang on to your mouth.
Let go of the reins a little.
Head right.
Don't hang on to your mouth.
She's shooting!
You're joking.
You're the one shooting.
It's not her.
The first time that Caroline met Marie-France, she saw an old 24-year-old
trouillarde who was climbing like a pack of noodles.
She didn't suspect it.
It must be said that that day, Caroline's mother had come to start an
unequal salute against the mortal boredom of that month of May 68.
What's going on?
Caroline, move forward.
Take the reins.
Slowly.
Why are you screaming like that?
I thought he was going to leave, Eugalo.
Come down.
Caroline.
Take Gisabelle.
Oh, there.
Marie-France already knew that she would never
be a true knight and she didn't give a damn.
For the rest, she didn't suspect that she would come back.
And since she was only 24, she was not in a hurry.
Come on.
Back up.
So, mademoiselle...
Caroline's mother felt the tip of her breasts curiously
irritated by the silky fabric of her throat support.
Faced with this pain, a bitter and deliciously secret, boredom lowered the guard.
Mr. Perroch galloped.
And in the space of a few admirable crowds, the
three hearts of these three spectators beat for him.
Come on, let's go.
You make progress in your film, you know.
That's why I became an improviser.
To see if she was really making progress.
It's good, my dear.
Bravo.
Caroline, put that in the cellar.
Goodbye.
I'm sure you're going to make a real knight of it.
Yes, Susan.
What's going on?
Well done for him, he's completely ridiculous.
If only he had real political opinions.
She was there with him.
You know, it makes me completely equal.
Yes, yes, my daughter is making some progress with her smiley face.
What?
We'll see what happens to this story.
It's not really serious, you know.
A play?
Yes, it's distracting.
I have to go to Paris to look for Dad.
Why?
What does he have?
What he deserves.
He had a little accident with the students.
I'm just going to sleep here while I'm not here.
Okay.
Sleep tight, my dear.
Yes.
You are the only one.
Take Bataclan.
You alone.
Hello, darling.
How are you?
Does it hurt your eyes?
It burns a little, nothing terrible.
What is a passade?
A passade is a tocade.
An enthusiasm is not a passade, it's something that doesn't last,
that is not serious.
A caprice.
Especially a caprice.
Don't be late, my dear.
Are you going to stay like this for the rest of your life?
I hope not.
So you can't go to work there?
I'm like you, I'm on vacation.
I'm not on vacation, I'm an intern.
It's very serious.
It's not a passade.
I know, you're a very serious girl.
It's not a passade, it's not your kind.
Have fun anyway.
Thank you, you too.
Are you not too tired?
Not at all.
Well, that's good.
There is water left.
And water.
And we're done.
Caroline, every evening, and sometimes during the day,
prayed to the gods of Saint-Thérèse for it to never end.
We haven't arrived yet.
There are shrimp in the sea.
Mom has put on her white dress.
And dad?
It's a black neck because of his eyes.
He's coming by horse, do you think?
With his hat, his boots and everything.
Are you happy that he's coming?
Does he have a cape like Zorro?
Grou, he's coming!
What time is it?
Don't think I'm playing the star of variety, an
acrymogenic bomb that almost exploded my feet.
My husband is having a lot of fun right now.
He's lost 20 years.
This month of May is a real bath of youth for him.
What do you think of all this?
Oh, the politics, I...
I'm a man of horse, above all.
Of course.
He's going to the living room, I'm going to call your intern.
I envy him, you know.
I don't ask for anything, well, not really, and it's one of my great regrets.
Well, you know, I've always dreamed of having... regrets.
And every year, at Christmas, when I was a child, I asked for it.
It's stupid, isn't it?
You wonder what I would have done with it.
I see many possibilities.
Rather fun.
Come on.
What does she want to say?
You know, in my family, everyone is a knight.
Well, all the males.
You should have let the moustache grow.
Not even by his boots.
In addition, his boots, they are ugly.
Caroline!
Come say hello to Mr. Perrec.
You don't have a fever.
It's weird, this discomfort.
Tell me, my little cat, didn't you find a little blood in your ass?
No.
Good.
What a shame.
Just this evening.
I who invited Mr. Perrec to please you.
Do you want him to come and say good evening?
As you wish.
Go to sleep.
It will be better tomorrow.
No, please.
His boots, they are ugly.
That night, Caroline and her mother resisted, both, to temptation.
Not here.
Not bad.
I know.
The mother deliberately wanted to keep intact the exquisite violence of her desire.
Caroline unconsciously wanted to keep intact the vision of her beautiful hero.
Both made the relevant choice to put back the ineluctable.
See you later.
It's a tuna.
I had the same in Algeria.
Do you like it?
Yes.
This evening, after the adson, I will tell
Isabelle and we will go for a walk in the forest.
We will take your mother if you want, on a walk.
I don't know if she will want.
Where are you?
Here.
I'm cold.
I have a gift for you.
What is it?
Zephyr!
Don't you like it?
Stop.
That's enough.
Help yourself.
Shut up!
Warm me up.
Come to me.
Mom.
I'm cold.
Mom.
I'm scared, mom.
Imagine!
We are a little lost.
It's stupid, isn't it?
You weren't scared, were you?
Not at all.
Come on.
Come on, Caroline, in the car.
Kisses.
Caroline's mother felt pleasantly sad.
She had at the disposal of her desire a small collection of chump fantasies,
a little suitable, but which she had not yet exhausted.
He bought it for me.
For you?
Because that's it?
You are a real knight?
You can still be a real knight.
He bought it before, then?
Maybe, yes.
Mom wanted to try it on her own.
She couldn't do it.
She was scared.
She was scared!
She even screamed.
Did you see?
I'm almost there.
A barrel.
It's a funny name for a carousel.
I could take a ride in it, too.
I don't know.
Come on, please, Rolile.
I'll do that tomorrow with Mr. Perrac.
Yeah!
Let's go to my kitchen.
All right.
We'll be in a snowstorm in the North Pole and we'll be very cold.
You're the one who'll go out and kill the white bear for dinner.
No, it's you.
It's always me.
Caroline, your mother is here.
She came to get you.
I'm coming.
Caroline's mother discovered the paradox of fantasies.
It was by wanting to live that they were killed.
She didn't know if she had to be sad or relieved.
She said to herself with nostalgia that the routine is the twin sister of boredom.
Hello, Caroline.
The cell and the shelter of Jezebel are at the door of the box.
We have a new intern.
A slightly late vocation.
I think you already know each other.
I understand.
I almost made her fall with my nonsense.
Hello.
Here's a little boy who's lucky not to be at school with the others.
And you?
Why aren't you in the street with the others?
I don't care about politics.
What's the name of this young lady?
Her name is Caroline.
I'm Marie-France.
I don't care.
Come on, calm down.
It's okay.
Are you hurt anywhere?
In my leg.
Your leg should walk, right?
I think so.
Well then.
Did you get hurt?
Caroline, you worked this horse in the gallows.
First with the right hand and then with the left hand.
Did your mother come looking for you earlier?
The horse is on the other side.
Let's check this leg.
Marie-France had no fantasies to kill.
Only a life to build.
Really?
It was the second time that Caroline saw Marie-France.
She was always riding like a pack of noodles.
But this time, Caroline wondered how.
How was she going to kill her?
Do you know what I dreamed last night?
I promise you don't tell mom.
No.
I dreamed that I was cooking rice in a pan.
Here, eat this, it's for you.
They may not be exactly your size.
What do you have to climb?
No, no, you will open it tomorrow when we arrive in Nenancourt.
And me?
It's nice this evening.
The girls, tomorrow after lunch, will go back to Paris.
And they will start school on Tuesday.
Oh, has the revolution already ended?
No, it's not over, but we're going home anyway.
Don't make me look like that.
Well, go.
You can put the bike away and go downstairs.
Hello, sir.
It's Caroline.
Here you are, my cat.
It's all over, isn't it, Caroline?
The holidays, the meetings, the internships... Even the revolutions.
This one won't last either.
I know.
You don't have much fun going back to school.
But life is not only fun.
Since we're going home tonight, I came to settle Mr. Perret for your internship.
How much do I owe you?
I don't know.
Caroline.
Caroline, go get the glasses.
The new one isn't here?
The new one?
No.
She has a foot ache, an arm ache... She has a little bit of pain everywhere.
Hey, Douillette.
What is this?
It's mom who gave them to me.
Did she want to give them to you?
It's to console me.
Because my dad...
He's a little crazy, especially when I walk with him.
You walk with him?
Aren't we in the Far West?
Because you intend to put them at school too?
Do you want me to take them away?
No.
No, no, it's not the call.
She gave you a nice present, your mom.
What do you think, Caroline?
Shall we go?
For your last day...
I'll give them to you.
Does it hurt?
No, it's just itching.
Did you see?
I'm coming.
You fell on purpose so we wouldn't have to go back to Paris.
No one fell on purpose.
Except for the stuntman and the stuntman.
Caroline, biting the dust of the forest path,
had just discovered the taste of violence.
She was far from having tasted all the awful delights.
What the hell are we doing?
Put your shorts on, you're going to have fun in Paris with your little friend.
Well, the kids... The girls, Oli!
Why is she crying?
Is it because of you and dad?
No, it's because of De Gaulle.
Why?
Is he dead?
No, he left in the desert.
And if mom wants to go to the desert with him, what are we going to do?
Caroline's mother could have forgiven General De Gaulle for abandoning France,
but by this inconsiderate act, he condemned her to stay in Chantilly.
This betrayal was a fatal blow to her love for the man of June 18.
As much by disdain as by love disappointment, she
took the path of the squirrels with her daughter.
She could no longer hope to find there what to fight her old opponent,
the mortal boredom.
She was wrong.
So, this wounded girl... I told you, it's a hard one to cook, like me.
She came anyway, with her arm and everything.
She's bitten, huh, your little girl?
Horses, that's all that counts now.
Just two weeks away from Cretin's A drug addict?
That's what you did with my daughter.
I congratulate you, nice job.
And this villain fall, isn't she a little cold?
When we're in Cavalier, what's a little fall?
Isn't it?
It's been a few days since she teased me why I bring her here.
I don't like caprices, but now I feel like it's something else.
I ended up giving up.
She wants to stay for lunch with us?
If that doesn't bother you, with great pleasure.
Caroline's mother no longer thought of crying or leaving into the desert.
Since the month of May 68 stretched in length, due to the
lack of participation in the revolution, she went to war.
It's good, I'm not entirely.
Very soft.
I put sausage in it.
Just a little.
For taste.
But not too much.
It's for cholesterol.
Before, he ate anything, anytime.
It changes to make well-balanced meals.
A fixed meal.
Don't move, don't move.
With your arm.
Philippe!
You shouldn't smoke so much.
Your tobacco stinks.
Think of the little one.
Who's going to look for her everywhere after?
Oh no, I swear.
Look at that, Caroline told us where to put it.
We have to do it anyway.
Poor thing.
I put a cover.
Because of the holes.
She went up like a cloud.
Goodbye!
Community.
Very stupid and too much make-up.
But obviously, she's 20 years old.
Did you have fun, my dear?
Do you think he's there all the time, all the time, looking at us?
Who?
The guardian angel.
Yes.
Except it doesn't exist.
Here it exists, so?
He can die?
No.
How can it be?
It's like God.
It exists, but it can't die.
Even if someone kills it?
Even.
How do we know if no one has ever tried?
Tried what?
To kill God?
Just try, you'll see.
It's beautiful, isn't it?
It's ancient.
So what do we sleep in there?
In addition, it moves a lot at night.
Then it makes small screams while sleeping.
Like dogs when they dream.
Sometimes, even, it gives a punch.
In the air.
You can't know about violent things.
It doesn't look like it.
It's not what it's supposed to be.
Ten years in the army, it works.
Without talking about Algeria.
Last week, he screamed so loudly that I went to lock myself in the bathroom.
And he kicked me in the door.
I thought he was going to break me.
Aren't you tired, Caro?
I can call you Caro, it's not Mimi anymore.
After the bathroom knock, where you don't know what I did, I left.
Completely.
I said, it's over.
I took my suitcase, I took the train, and I went to a cousin.
I don't know how he found me.
At one o'clock in the morning, the plane landed.
It was on my ass.
I'm talking badly.
What would your mother say?
Here.
I'm listening to her car.
It must be her.
Don't come back, Thérèse.
See him there at one o'clock in the morning with his boots and everything.
But when we get home...
I shouldn't have told you such things at your age.
I never talk to you like that, your mother.
No?
She's so beautiful.
She's distinguished.
She's perfect.
I'll tell her tomorrow.
Do you want to come back tomorrow?
Caroline didn't know anything about the engaged fight between her mother and
Marie-France, and whose object was her hero.
She was so busy hating Marie-François that she didn't even have the time to love Mr.
Pérac without any doubt.
Philippe, Philippe!
What am I doing?
Come back, Caroline.
Is she leaving already?
She'll be back tomorrow, I hope.
With pleasure.
Right, Caroline?
Can I come with you tomorrow?
Come on, please, Roland.
I'm all alone with Charles.
While Mom and you are having fun with Mr. Pérac, I don't know what to do.
You're not nice, you're really not nice.
Girls, to the bath!
Don't fight with him, support him!
Left leg!
He's lost there, support him!
Let go of this rope, it will cover you.
The horse must respect you, don't be afraid.
If you can't control yourself, how do you want to control him?
Legs, hands, legs, hands, legs, hands.
Don't gesticulate like that, we're not at the circus.
Let yourself be forgotten, legs, hands, legs, hands.
Caroline, go get me some tobacco in my office.
This boy is not good enough.
A non-paying internship, I swear.
Sir, what do we want?
Sir wants to go to his auditorium.
He sucks, really sucks.
And he's grating it with his hand.
And he eats like four people.
I've never seen such an appetite.
Besides, he doesn't eat.
He slaps.
Come on.
Walk straight.
With a stable and happy horse.
Do you remember what Bocher said?
The horse has found comfort and pleasure in the horse's domination.
You want a fifth pair of quills, Bertrand?
Balance, ah, balance.
Equitation is the school of balance.
It comes from me, but it's worth what it's worth.
It's worth what it's worth.
It seems like it's good to be in the head.
I find that it depends.
In some situations, when we are in the head, we seem completely ridiculous.
I totally agree with you.
Really?
I didn't think so, you see.
Here, here is your little girl.
We were talking about Bertrand with your mother.
The poor thing, he will never achieve anything, but he doesn't even know it.
It should be that Philippe says so, but it's not his kind at all.
Well, tell him, you.
It's your kind, isn't it?
Nothing like saying things, isn't it?
After, it's well known, everything is arranged.
The clouds disappear, the situations become clearer.
And everyone swims in the clear happiness of the true truth.
Right, my cat?
You come?
Your mother speaks well.
And she's nice, huh?
To take the taxi every day so that you can come and see us.
It's so nice to her.
And to us too.
You know, Philippe and I, we love her, your little one.
Don't bother.
You just came to say hello.
Say goodbye, my cat.
Philippe!
Telephone!
Come on, we're calling you.
Quick!
Goodbye... Philippe!
That's the name, isn't it, Caroline?
So goodbye, Bertrand.
Goodbye.
Come, my cat, we're going to take your plate.
Pauline!
What are you doing?
It's going to ring, we won't even be able to get home.
It's going to ring, it's going to ring.
We're going to be late.
Where's my plate?
Where did you put it?
Pauline, really, my plate.
You're mean, you're mean.
Mom, I want to see Mom.
Go get Mom.
Pauline!
She's sleeping, Mom.
Come sleep with me.
Caroline's mother had taken no more pleasure in
fighting her rival than in regaining her trophy.
But as she liked to repeat it, the best things come to an end.
She now had to consume her victory.
Where's Mom?
She didn't sleep there.
She went into the desert.
But no, she's at Mass.
Yet it's not Sunday.
If we go there on the day before, she'll realize.
Can I come with you?
Please, Pauline.
You don't show it to anyone.
You don't lend it to anyone.
And when I get home, you give it to me right away.
Yes, I promise.
She'll come back, Mom.
If she ever takes it from you, I'll kill you.
She's put her heart into it.
It's gone.
If you ever lose it, I'll kill you too.
Thank you.
The two sisters this morning gave honor to St. Thérèse's precepts.
Each of them ran to her harem, at the meeting of her lion.
Dodo!
Where are we, Mr. Perrot?
I don't know.
Gather your queens.
Behind me or not.
Hello, Caroline.
Hello, sir.
Since you weren't here, I thought... Yes, that's very good.
Take it easy.
Don't be crazy, it's a convalescent.
Bertrand!
What's going on?
It was good?
Did you have fun?
He didn't come to help me empty the attic today?
He didn't have to paint the garden table, the iron chairs?
It's not because we said yesterday?
It's because we even promised?
No!
Everyone forgot.
When he put his ass on my horse and I cooked it for him, he's still standing.
But when it comes to holding a hand, there's no one left.
So I tell you all, I don't have more than enough to make the convalescent.
Because Mr. Perrot didn't get angry.
Because he didn't look at Bertrand in the face.
Because he ended up with Marmonné.
For all this, Caroline hates Marie-France.
Even more than usual.
Because she was going to spend an hour alone with her hero in the forest,
at the end of May 68, she suddenly forgave him.
You have to go, yes.
Your horse must respect you, not fear you.
A horse on the ground is no longer a horse, it's a horse.
Caroline, for the first time in her life with Mr. Perrot,
would have wanted to be elsewhere than in her presence.
To digest this thought and sacrilege, she silently
recited, and several times in a row, the table of eight.
Caroline, go get me a beer in the cellar.
No, no, no!
There is no beer.
I will honor the horses.
So Caroline let herself sink to the bottom of the fever.
Her hero was dead.
Bertrand and Marie-France too.
Caroline had killed them all three.
She was no longer a little girl, she was a criminal.
She kept it until the end of time, and only God knew.
So for three days and three nights, Caroline tried to die.
Mom!
Don't shout like that.
Madam, the little one is back.
I'm going to get her.
At the mass, we prayed for you.
I pretended.
What we understood is that it's really serious.
That's it, you're not going to die.
Goodbye, Jean, my daughter.
You scared us, you know, my cat.
Do you want to eat something or drink?
Do you want to sleep?
You have to forget all that.
You have to stop thinking about it.
It's big stories.
You shouldn't have been involved.
It's for nothing.
It's over.
We're not going to talk about it anymore, okay?
We'll never talk about it again.
I'm going to stay here with you.
The mother spent the whole night holding in her mouth the boiling hand of her daughter.
In the morning, Caroline's hand was fresh and her mother healed from her guilt.
She said that children are hard to raise and that
they forget faster if they don't talk about it.
Caroline didn't try to die anymore.
She understood that for a criminal, eternal
life is as unbearable as short-lived life.
Around Caroline, existence gradually regained its course.
The sleep at Sainte-Thérèse was stretched from Monday
to Saturday with an infinitely long sea of blue.
And Caroline didn't even try to avoid the look of God.
Your mother told me that you were riding more.
That's very good.
Now you're going to see, you're going to grow.
It wasn't true.
Caroline didn't see anything at all.
She knew well that criminals can't grow and that it can't even be seen.
Caroline?
Well, that, then?
Well, that's for a surprise.
It makes me happy, here.
We were good friends, both of us.
And your mother, is she okay?
You'll never guess why I'm in Paris.
I'm looking for you.
Come on, no, I'm telling you.
I came to choose the dress.
Philippe and I, we get married on Saturday.
Yes, yes, I swear.
You'll see.
She's all in satin, with roses, here and there.
A real princess dress.
You'll tell your mother, I didn't have your address in Paris.
Besides, if you could come next Saturday, it
would make us very happy to have Philippe with me.
There will even be Bertrand.
Oh la la, the poor thing, he missed his monitor.
You'll have to see what happened.
You would have seen that, Caroline.
Philippe pulled in the ceiling, there was plaster everywhere.
The other one had one of those rubies.
Oh la la, I shouldn't have told you stories like that.
It's not stories for little girls.
Well, goodbye, Caro.
I'm saving myself because Philippe is waiting for me in a cafe.
I'll tell him I saw you, it will make him happy.
And tell your mother about the wedding.
The last month, everything went well.
Everything has been fixed.
Suddenly, you broke the evil charm that led us to the abyss.
Now that an event seems to be far away, it is a life.
The revolution was over.
She entered into the legend, the history books, the collective memory.
Caroline said nothing to her mother who was busy divorcing,
Marie-France, instead of being dead, had built her life.
Caroline's mother was sick of her by deconstructing it.
Caroline, the youngest in the world, was still riding in the forest with Mr.
Perrec.
The other one, the one who was no longer a criminal, had finally begun to grow.
And it was not seen yet.