Better stand by, then. Any moment, she is goin’ to raise the roof.

She moves into the room, wafting a handkerchief in his direction.

Got a new scent. Fire Alarm. Gunna ring bells in all directions.

A squeal of sheer rapture is heard from above.

There—she’s found it.

ROO moves to the foot of the stairs, to further sounds of delight and movement from above. NANCY picks up the half-finished glass of whisky she has left on the table.

How much time we got?

ROO: [his gaze on the upstairs regions] Oughta go as soon as we can, I reckon.

NANCY: Little something that I got to do.

She tosses down the liquor, and moves out through the French windows, ROO unaware of her going.

EMMA comes into view from the kitchen. She is wearing an apron again, and is forcing herself to go through the normal evening routine. She moves into the room, switching on evening lighting, catching ROO’s attention and he turns with a glad announcement.

ROO: Change of plan on the home front, Emma. The four of us are going out to celebrate. See if we can get a table, Mario’s.

EMMA: Well— [gesturing disparagingly with the bowl she has picked up] —so much then, for early spring peas.

ROO: Means I won’t be tacklin’ that Maurie bloke for you tonight. But I’ll be down to see him first thing in the morning.

EMMA puts the bowl aside and distances him with a glance, as he continues purposefully.

Yeh, I know you don’t like people buttin’ into your affairs, but this is one you need some help. What I want you to do tonight, is to look out any sort of a receipt you’ve got?

EMMA gives a snort of derision, and moves for the fireplace.

Well, you must have somethin’?

EMMA: Why?

She kneels, to boost the fire.

ROO: To show you’ve paid him?

EMMA: It was all under the lap, you noggin. Blokes like Maurie, they don’t give receipts.

ROO: What the hell then, was your guarantee?

EMMA: Mister Bromige. He’s the one keeps things in order.

ROO: Bromige, then. We’ll get your money back through Bromige.

EMMA: You don’t know you’re born.

She rises to face him.

Real cash I’m goin’ to lose isn’t what I’ve paid to Maurie. ’S the money I have had to shell out to be part of the scheme at all. Pay your money up ahead, and guarantee that you’ll be on the phone for orders. That was the arrangement.

ROO: Boy, they really hooked you solid. Righto. I’ll go down tomorrow mornin’, have a quiet chat with this bloke Bromige. Promise you you’ll get back every penny.

EMMA: Thank you. Nice. And then you’ll go up North, and he will send a couple of his boys along to have a quiet chat with me.