HARRY: We have no regrets. We don’t get homesick. Only once a year. We book a telephone call to our old street. In Nottingham. We get out the photo album. Remember for a while. But we have no regrets. This country… And often when we do think back, all we can think of is the cold, the tiny houses, the rationing, the rubble after the War. It was a rubbish dump. A lot wanted to stay and help to build again. But we didn’t want to. We felt held back. We knew why the sailors had called it the Old World. It was like living with an elderly relative—tired, cranky—who doesn’t want you to have any fun but just worry about their health all the time. Nagging you, criticising you, making you feel guilty for any enjoyment you might manage to find. No regrets. In a funny kind of way we’re happy. Even while we’re very, very sad. We have no regrets, but we have no hopes. Not anymore. We might get some, but it’s unlikely, I think. Our son is very sick. It’s a cancer of the blood. He was very bad this year, we thought it was time to get ready. But he got through it. It’s called ‘in remission’. But it will come back. Every day we watch for bruises. Or to see if he’s more tired than usual. We made it into another year at least. But we don’t look forward. We haven’t given up, no, no. That would be a mistake. We don’t look back and we don’t look forward. We have this boy and we won’t have him for long. And whatever he does, that will have to be enough. The Chinese don’t believe in being too upset when someone dies. That would mean you thought they’d died too soon and what they’d done up till then didn’t amount to much. We will be sad, of course.

Silence.

JIM: I can’t think of anything to say.

HARRY: Don’t ever say anything about it. Ever. Give me your word.

JIM: I won’t.

HARRY: He doesn’t know. He won’t know. We mustn’t let him know. He must not be afraid. He must never suspect. He must look ahead even if we never do. Understand?

JIM: I promise.

HARRY: We don’t tell most people. Very occasionally we run into someone who needs to know. But we don’t tell very many. Did you manage to save your fishing gear?

JIM: A few reels. The rods were broken or washed away.

HARRY: What a pity.

The women come back. They have been crying and are supporting each other.

VIC: Here she is. I brought her back. The water’s very warm today. We had a quick paddle.

Silence for a moment. They all look at each other.