She lowers herself into an armchair.

Not an easy feller, Mister Bromige. Likes to keep his books in order.

ROO: Wouldn’t dare.

EMMA: Why not? You won’t be around. You’ll be up in Queensland somewhere, cuttin’ cane. And I go to the cops, I run the risk of Olive bein’ knocked down by a car some dark night. On her way home from the pub—

ROO: Hoodlums—they’re a bunch of hoodlums, this lot? Standover merchants?

EMMA: Somethin’ like that. Mightn’t carry razors in their pockets, but they do know how to use them.

ROO: [staring at her, shocked] Honestly, if anyone had told me—when I think of how you were when we first came here. All so stiff and starchy, runnin’ a respectable boardin’ house—how the hell did you get mixed up with a bunch like that?

EMMA: I stopped runnin’ such a respectable boardin’ house, for a start.

Her words register with ROO.

Anyway, you keep away from Mister Bromige.

ROO: Let him—?

EMMA: Yes. I’d rather end up on the pension. Some old baggage scroungin’ round for pocket money.

Her tone forbids further discussion, and it is in this lapse of argument that we hear NANCY’s voice approaching the French windows.

NANCY: Hang on now, don’t rush things—let me break the ice—

NANCY enters, pushing wide the windows.

I got a visitor for you.

BUBBA appears in view, announcing herself with a fierce joy.

BUBBA: Not a visitor at all—it’s me.

She swoops forward to embrace ROO.

Never thought I’d see anyone again. Speak to them or ever—

She breaks away, to a brief ecstatic awareness of the room.

Look at this place, will you? I been away a million years— [rushing onto the stairs] —a million billion trillion—

She meets BARNEY on his way downstairs. He is wearing his demob suit, is his old jaunty self again, and gives a startled whoop at the sight of BUBBA.

BARNEY: Hey—jeepers creepers—you escape, or somethin’?

BUBBA: Can’t stop. Have to see Olive.

Kissing him on the run:

Nance’ll tell you. [As she vanishes] Nearly died.

BARNEY moves on downstairs.

BARNEY: [to NANCY] Where the flamin’ hell did she spring from?

NANCY: Olive always said that I could talk those aunties into anything. Thought it’s time I gave it a try.

BARNEY: Aah. ’Course—

We hear an outburst from BUBBA and OLIVE upstairs, behind a closed door and too distant for words to be audible, but the excitement of the reunion is unmistakable.

Listen to that, will you? They’ll be up there all night.

ROO: I’ll look after it.

ROO hastens upstairs, glad of something to do. NANCY shuts the French windows and gathers up her cloak and handbag, to be confronted by a beamingly assured and teasing BARNEY.

BARNEY: How about you, eh? Knew you’d come through. Like the evenin’ star.