BARNEY: [somewhat appeased] Well—long as it’s hats she’s on about. And not some—

He breaks off as a happy and relaxed ROO, in casual civilian clothes, appears on the top of the stairs.

Hey, look who’s here? Back in the land of the livin’—I got some good news. Them three sergeants—

ROO: What three sergeants?

BARNEY: [moving for the stairs] Them three—

ROO: Oh, yeh. Them three.

BARNEY: Nothin’ in the papers.

He hands the newspaper he is holding to ROO, as he heads on up the stairs in quest of NANCY.

Either they’ve agreed to keep their traps shut, or they’re too far gone to talk.

He continues out of sight, and OLIVE reproaches ROO as he arrives in the room.

OLIVE: You said you’d stay in bed?

ROO tosses the newspaper aside, and raises his hands in a jesting bid for mercy.

ROO: I couldn’t wait another minute. Sun was shinin’ in the window. Felt like I was swingin’ the lead.

OLIVE shrugs rueful acceptance and offers her cheek as he comes to kiss her. Then:

Look, last night—

OLIVE: Wasn’t your fault.

ROO: Yes, it was. I spoilt your party.

OLIVE: Over now. Best forget it.

ROO: I’ll make it up to you, I promise—

OLIVE: Don’t be silly. I’ve been looking at the stuff you got from Royal Park.

She moves from his embrace to the mantelpiece, intent on a sensible disposing of the night’s mishaps.

The clothes, I’ve hung them in the washhouse. Bloodstains on a couple of shirts and things, but otherwise they’re not too bad.

She takes a large envelope from the mantelpiece.

And these are your ration books, and the army papers that you tossed around last night.

He tries to wave the envelope away as she brings it to him, but she insists.

I’ve stuck your service book together, and you ought to put this all away.

Forcing the envelope on him:

They’ re important, these things—

ROO: Enough now—bloody hell. Look, last night’s thrown us for a burton. What we need this mornin’ is a good break. How about the two of us, we go out on the town? Have ourselves a shoppin’ spree? [Waving the envelope] We’ll take these discharge ration books, and you can pick me out the shirts and anythin’ else I’ve messed up? And halfway through, we’ll stop off and we’ll have a champion meal at some place—Silver Grill at the Australia? Just the two of us? Whaddya say?

OLIVE: You feel you’re up to it? Your head—

ROO laughs and claims her again in an embrace, and she surrenders with some relief.

Yes, alright, yes. I’d like that.

They hug in mutual agreement.

But I’ve got to run in next door first. Promised Bub. The aunties are a bit upset about the fire.

ROO: Let me. I’ll go in, and—