– The people in charge are not Plato’s apostles – they’re rich boys on a power trip. I know this because I’m a rich boy who came from rich men. My people have been generationally institutionalised to believe this world and the people in it are theirs and they don’t care about cosmic rays and all they do with language is manipulate it so they can get more.

– I hate it!

– More power. More wealth. More war. Those men do not carry the guilt and sorrow of a woman’s non-beating heart. I do, to my great, great shame… so what I am trying to say, my handsome, lovely friend, is I can’t think about it any more. Let’s get the train to North Berwick in the morning, let’s walk on the beach and hold hands and fall in love and forget, and may all the cosmic rays be upon us even if only for one day!

The door is knocked quietly.

– Archie? Are you okay?

– I am, John are you alright? I didn’t want to disturb you so late – it’s just, I’m out of milk and my dear wife likes to sup tea before bed and I don’t like to leave her in the flat in her chair.

– Of course. Do you want biscuits, snacks?

– Hard drugs?

Bill offers the last – appearing behind him as John goes to get milk.

– No, thank you, good man. Those are not for us. A cup of tea more than suffices!

Archie looks so much older now and he is clearly tired. It takes him a minute to just accept the milk in a mug and smile, balance it and walk slowly down the stairs.

Bill and John stand at the door until he is gone.

– So sweet. His wife had a terrible stroke seven years ago. You know he looks after her every day, plays her music, cares for her insane parrot, bathes her, buys her soft cashmere jumpers so they are kind tae her skin. He dotes on her. She can’t speak, cannae say a word. Often doesn’t seem to understand anything but she never wanted to leave this building so he’s caring for her here. She’s not been out that door in seven years and he barely leaves her side.

– The course of true love!