ORTON   Really? Doesn’t knock on my box one bit. He’s got a big one.

HALLIWELL   How do you know?

ORTON   Written all over his face.
They walk on. He sees another youth coming.
Look at the package on this. He’s lovely.

HALLIWELL   (frantically) Where? Where?

ORTON   Here.
The youth looks back.
We’re on.

HALLIWELL   How? What did he do? I didn’t see anything.

ORTON   What do you want, a telegram? Come on.
They follow. Fairly deserted streets.
He’s built like a brick shithouse.

HALLIWELL   He’s probably a policeman.

ORTON   I know. Isn’t it wonderful?

HALLIWELL   Listen. We’ve got tickets to the Proms.
The youth hesitates now and again, so that they catch up, then he is off again. Orton is exhilarated.

ORTON   What’s your name?

HALLIWELL   How do you mean, ‘What’s my name?’

ORTON   Mine’s Kevin.

HALLIWELL   Mine’s … Howard.

ORTON   Howard! That’s a poncey name.

HALLIWELL   Patrick then.

ORTON   Oh. Catholic, are you? What do you do?

HALLIWELL   I don’t know. What do you do?

ORTON   I’m a fitter. Car components.

HALLIWELL   I’m … a dog handler.

ORTON   On an individual basis, or are you a tool of a large organisation?

HALLIWELL   I’m so shit-scared, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything.
Orton exhilarated and excited, Halliwell still quite worried.
We don’t want to let this make us late for the Proms.

ORTON   Listen, sweetheart, which do you prefer, him or Sir Malcolm Sargent?
The youth has gone into a doorway by a shop. The door closes.

INT. YOUTH’S HOUSE. DAY. 1956.

Orton and Halliwell get to the door. Orton pushes it slightly. It is open.

They go up the stairs. A landing. Another door. Locked.

They go up a further flight. A door ajar. Orton pushes it slowly.

INT. YOUTH’S HOUSE. HIS ROOM. DAY. 1956.

Orton goes in first. The youth is standing in the middle of the room.

Halliwell knocks before coming in and when he does come in it is with a kind of social smile on his face. Orton, on the other hand, stands square in front of the youth, saying nothing.

YOUTH   Hello, my name’s Kevin.

ORTON   Mine’s Kenneth.

HALLIWELL   Oh. Mine’s Kenneth too!

ORTON   Oh shit!

HALLIWELL   (hurriedly) Only my friends call me Patrick.

YOUTH   We’re all friends here.
Orton slowly undoes the youth’s shirt.

ORTON   Do you kiss?
The youth nods. Orton kisses him. Halliwell watches.
Orton then turns and kisses Halliwell.

HALLIWELL   (whispering to Orton) I don’t think he likes me.

ORTON   (to youth) You like him, don’t you?

YOUTH   Sure.

ORTON   Kiss him!
The youth does so. Orton watches them both with a kind of triumph on his face.

INT. ORTON AND HALLIWELL’S FLAT. NIGHT. 1956.