SAM. No just the thing is, is I was late on Monday too and I can’t, / I just can’t –

RUPERT. Mate. Last year I was reviewing absinthe for the June issue. I got completely munted, walked in here, Aidan’s taking a meeting with Roger fucking Highsmith, yeah? I don’t remember a thing but apparently I took out my cock and balls, jiggled them in my hand, said ‘How d’you like them apples?’ and threw up on his folding bicycle. I’m still here, aren’t I? It’s media. You’re not going to get fired for being late with some coffees.

CHARLOTTE. Yeah well, it’s different for you, isn’t it.

RUPERT. How is it different for me? I am a member of the workforce.

CHARLOTTE stares at him.

CHARLOTTE. D’you know how Rupert got this job, / Sam?

RUPERT. Classy. Really fucking classy, Charlotte.

CHARLOTTE. D’you think he did an interview? D’you think he spent hours checking the font on his CV?

RUPERT. Century Gothic, thank you and actually yes I did an interview and FYI, I didn’t conduct it on my knees, like some / people we COULD MENTION –

CHARLOTTE. He got a / THIRD. In ART HISTORY.

RUPERT sings, in a rather beautiful baritone, to the tune of ‘Mandy’ by Barry Manilow:

RUPERT. ‘Oh Charlotte, you came, and you gave me chlamydia.’

CHARLOTTE. Shut up! What’s wrong with you?

RUPERT. What? I’m just messing with you.

CHARLOTTE. Sam doesn’t know that.

RUPERT. Sam, I was messing about. It was jokes.

CHARLOTTE. I did not give him chlamydia.

RUPERT. No. Of course she didn’t. Of course.

Of course.

He winks at SAM, scratches his crotch. Mouths the sentence ‘It was crabs’ at him, shielding his mouth from CHARLOTTE’s view.

CHARLOTTE. What did you say?

RUPERT. I said IT WAS CRABS.

CHARLOTTE throws down her files, goes for him, he dodges her, laughing.

Her Secret Garden’s crawling with pests, Sam! Omnem relinquite spem, o vos intrantes!

She catches him, puts him in a headlock, sinks him to his knees.

CHARLOTTE. Where’s your copy? Aidan’s going to ask, what am I going to tell him?

RUPERT. You’ll think of something! / (Laughs.) Ow!

CHARLOTTE. Do I look like your mother? Do I look like your / fucking mother, bitch?

RUPERT. Oh, don’t let’s fight, darling! Not in front of the child!

CHARLOTTE. I’m serious, you fucking waste of space –

RUPERT. Sam, she’s flirting with me! You’re a witness, she’s flirting and it’s hurting!

AIDAN enters. A middle-class, educated, good-looking man. He is carrying a large oblong item, covered in brown paper and protective wrapping.

He stops, stares at the scene. CHARLOTTE and RUPERT disentangle themselves. Beat. AIDAN carries on across the room to his desk, takes his jacket off, dumps his bag.

AIDAN. Great issue. I really mean that.

SAM rushes to bring AIDAN his coffee.