EXT. SUTCLIFFS’ FARMYARD. AFTERNOON.

Wormold crosses the yard. The little dog is yapping at its kennel. Seeing Wormold it comes up affectionately to him, whereupon Preston kicks it away. Sutcliff and Preston proceed to follow Wormold about.

SUTCLIFF   Sometimes I wonder what the last war was for.
Wormold looks in the long shed, down the centre aisle and at the pigs standing up in their stalls, looking at him.

WORMOLD   The people, Mr Sutcliff. That was what it was for. Fair shares for all.
They leave the shed, cross the yard and go into the farmhouse.

INT. SUTCLIFFS’ KITCHEN. AFTERNOON.

Mrs Sutcliff hands Wormold a sheaf of forms.

MRS SUTCLIFF   Sty specifications. Swill schedule. Slaughtering certificates.

SUTCLIFF   You find one wrong pig on this farm and I’ll give you a hundred pounds.

WORMOLD   (unimpressed) If I do it’ll cost you more than that. (Wormold looks hard at Gilbert.) I’ve seen you before.

GILBERT   How do you do.

WORMOLD   Yes. You were there the other day.
He walks over to Gilbert and looks down at his case of instruments. He picks up one of the sharp knives and studies it. He looks at Gilbert.
You get about.

GILBERT   I do people’s feet.
Wormold looks at his soiled trousers.
I knelt in something.

WORMOLD   Maybe you ought to have a look at my feet. Can you fit me in?
Gilbert opens his appointment book and gives him a card.

GILBERT   Tuesday at four?
Wormold takes the card and pauses at the door, surveying the farmyard.

WORMOLD   On we go. No rest for the wicked.
He sets off across the yard towards his car. The little dog is yapping at his kennel. Wormold stops and looks over. He glances at the farmhouse and then goes over to the kennel. Sutcliff and Preston exchange anxious glances. Crouching down by the kennel, Wormold gives the little dog an affectionate pat and a stroke. He then leaves. As he drives off, Preston goes out to the kennel. Gilbert is picking up his newspaper to tip the bits of toenail, hard skin, etc., onto the fire.

SUTCLIFF   Is that skin? Put it in the pig bucket. It’s a delicacy.
Gilbert tips it into the bucket.
You want to save any scraps. Peelings and whatnot. All contributions gratefully received. And we’ll see you all right. How much do we owe you?

GILBERT   Five shillings.

SUTCLIFF   Soon earned. Sharper than farming.
He peels one off a vast roll of notes. As Gilbert searches for change Sutcliff is drawn to the kitchen table.
Where’s the ham?

MRS SUTCLIFF   Oh, pissing hell! (She goes and gets the ham from behind the cushion, rubs it on her apron and bangs it down on the dish.)

SUTCLIFF   What’s happened to the fire? (He picks up the coal scuttle and without looking at the contents swings it at the fire, covering it with three dozen eggs.) You silly cow, Hilda!

INT. CHILVERS’ GARAGE. DAY.