TOM: Most of them. They said I should opt for the jewellery. A few suggested some perfume. Very subtle stuff. Couldn’t actually smell it. One of them tried some on and I was halfway down her neck before any smell registered. Pointless.

MEG: Well… I still wish I’d got you something.

TOM: Bottle of gin would’ve been nice.

MEG: Oh.

TOM: Or a Harley Davidson.

MEG: Is he a poet?

TOM: It’s a bike.

MEG: I knew that.

TOM: Poet! Why would I want a poet?

MEG: Maybe you read poetry.

TOM: Me? Come on! Me?

MEG: You might. You’re pretty…

TOM: Deep?

MEG: You’re pretty quiet.

TOM: Soulful?

MEG: Still waters run deep. My father’s always saying that.

TOM: Still waters stink.

GWEN and JIM come in.

GWEN: You were supposed to hurry, not stand round yapping. There are a million things to do. I’ll have to do it all, I expect.

TOM: ‘Ill met by moonlight’.

GWEN: I beg your pardon? Are you a friend of Margaret’s? I didn’t know you were a friend of this boy’s, Margaret.

MEG: Not really.

TOM: No, not really.

MEG: Until the play.

TOM: Yeah. Until the play, that is.

MEG: Did you like the play, Dad?

JIM: It was… lovely, yes.

GWEN: What did you have to do Shakespeare for? Why couldn’t you have done a musical? A bit of singing. All that talking! And we couldn’t see a thing. The people in front kept hopping up and down, up and down to see. We couldn’t see a blessed thing. We just managed to see a bit of the queen’s crown. And there were these kids near us, why you’d bring kiddies to stuff like this I do not know, but—muck up? I could’ve throttled them. Little beggars. But whose idea was it to do Shakespeare? Very silly choice if you ask me.

JIM: You looked lovely though, Mags. And you’ll be our next Chips Rafferty, eh, son?

TOM: Don’t hold your breath.

GWEN: We can’t spend all night here. Not if you two want any sort of holiday. Say your goodnights, Margaret. Have you got the keys?

JIM: Keys? I thought I gave them to you.

GWEN: No, I gave them to you. To get the camera out of the car. Why, I do not know. We couldn’t see a thing. We were so far back you couldn’t get a photo of anything. You always have to bring it. But you kept the keys.

JIM: Did I?

GWEN: Yes.

JIM: I don’t think so. They’re not on me.

GWEN: They must be. Trouser pockets.

JIM: No, no, I’m sure you still have them. They’re not there.