INT. ALLARDYCES’ SITTING ROOM. DAY.

MRS ALLARDYCE   Where do you want me?
She sits on a chair and Gilbert, opening the paper, places it under her feet. He then turns to his case. Glancing down Mrs Allardyce finds that her naked foot is on a portrait of the bridegroom-to-be, Lieutenant Mountbatten. Thinking this is lèse-majesté, she removes the page, only to find she now has her foot on some other royal person. This too she removes, settling eventually for the front page with its headline ‘BACON DOWN AGAIN’. Gilbert takes hold of her foot.
My other little man died. He used to say that a foot told him more than a face.

GILBERT   Well, you’ve got quite a lot of hard skin. And this is a chilblain.
Mrs Allardyce plainly doesn’t feel this is much insight into the real her.
Are you on your feet a great deal?

MRS ALLARDYCE   My husband’s an accountant. It’s one function after another.
She reaches over and gets a cigarette from the box, and as Gilbert bends over her feet she leans back and takes a luxurious drag. Somewhere in the house a comfortable-sounding middle-class clock chimes.

INT. ALLARDYCE’S STUDY. DAY.

Allardyce is now reading out his list.

ALLARDYCE   Jezzard.

DR SWABY   Had Jezzard.

ALLARDYCE   Sorry. Wainwright.
Lockwood pulls a face.
Brierley?

LOCKWOOD   It wants to be a bit select, Henry. Their daughter was a GI bride.

DR SWABY   Only just. Six months pregnant when I examined her.

ALLARDYCE   She was a Sunday-school teacher.

DR SWABY   The state of her private parts told a different story, Henry. This is royalty. It’s a pure and unspoiled couple.

ALLARDYCE   Goodman?
There is a slightly more awkward silence.

DR SWABY   He’s not on my list.

ALLARDYCE   They’re very well off.

DR SWABY   Well apart from anything else, Henry, think what we shall be having to eat. (Pause.) Oink-oink.

ALLARDYCE   Oh.
Dr Swaby and Lockwood exchange looks of long-suffering contempt. Someone starts to play the piano badly, the same tune we have heard at the Chilvers’ house. Allardyce gets up and opens the door. Not now, Veronica.

INT. ALLARDYCES’ SITTING ROOM. DAY.

MRS ALLARDYCE   (calling) She’s got to practise sometime.
The piano starts again. Mrs Allardyce picks a chocolate and takes a bite. Not liking its taste, she drops the rest of the chocolate, and it lands among the clippings and shavings of hard skin on the newspaper. Looking up from it, Gilbert continues to clip her toenails. Mrs Allardyce smooths the stocking she has on.
Nylons. Henry gets them. Grateful clients.

GILBERT   (cutting her big toenail) Bad for the feet.
The big toenail clipping flies off. Mrs Allardyce looks up as it ‘pings’ off a vase.

MRS ALLARDYCE   (recovering) Good for the morale. I think we’ve let some toenail go on the carpet.

GILBERT   Beg pardon. This is a bit hand-to-mouth. But I’ll have my own surgery soon. I’ve got premises on the Parade.