BARNEY: Where d’you find the local news in these rags?

EMMA: Depends. Social jottin’s are usually towards the back. Though I shouldn’t think that what went on here last night’s gunna rate a mention.

BARNEY grunts and enters, to abandon one newspaper for the other. There is a knock on the closed French windows, to which EMMA responds immediately.

Go away. Olive’s busy. [To BARNEY] Cleanin’ blood from off them discharge clothes the guv’ment was fool enough to give you.

She picks up her laden tray, with a final directive.

Any neighbours comin’ here this morning with complaints about disturbances and bonfires, you lot are to deal with ’em.

On her way out:

Only ones that I’m prepared to talk to are the riot squad from Russell Street.

An unmoved BARNEY continues to scan his way through his newspaper, with another knock at the French windows, more urgent this time, and BUBBA calling:

BUBBA: Got to come in. Please—

BARNEY: Come back later, kid.

BUBBA: No. Got to come in now. Auntie Dee said.

BARNEY: Oh, well—if it’s Auntie Dee.

He shoves his newspaper aside, and moves to unsnib the French windows.

On the warpath, is she?

BUBBA appears, red-eyed, but in control of herself. She is carrying a large cardboard box.

BUBBA: Here—it’s all your things from Queensland.

BARNEY: Uh?

BUBBA: Coral and the butterflies and stuff that Roo brought down before the war. Show us what it was like up there.

Shoving the box into his arms:

I’m not allowed to keep ’em.

BARNEY: Aah, gawd.

BUBBA moves out again through the French windows.

BUBBA: Haven’t had time to sort it out. But Auntie Dee says that it doesn’t matter.

She returns, with another large and overflowing cardboard box.

Long as I make sure you get them all back.

BARNEY: Good old Auntie Dee. [Helping to set the boxes aside] Here—

BUBBA: Tried to tell ’em how it was last night, but they just wouldn’t listen. Even Auntie Maureen. Said that the two of you were drunk, and Roo—how’s Roo?

BARNEY: Nothin’ wrong with Roo. [He moves to pick up his newspaper again.] Sleepin’ in this mornin’, but that’s just Olive.

BUBBA: Auntie Maureen can’t believe that Roo would light a fire in that condition. Could have set alight to this house, and to ours as well, she reckons.

BARNEY: You go back and tell ’em Roo has burnt up half the canefields in the North. He knows what he’s up to.

BUBBA: Wouldn’t even listen. They said last night was the finish. From now on, I’ve got to stay at home. Study for the scholarship and my exams.

BARNEY: [resignedly] Playin’ hell with a big stick, are they?

OLIVE appears from the direction of the kitchen, rolling down her sleeves.

Here—she’s got auntie trouble.