SIMMONDS: Yes. I’ve heard of it.

KATE: Hundreds of Australians drinking themselves into a stupor. I don’t know why they bother to go abroad. It’s exactly the same as what they do back here. SIMMONDS: [to FIONA] You met your husband at the festival?

FIONA: Yes. That’s where my money was stolen. He was very kind to me.

KATE: Kind to you? He took full advantage of the situation.

SIMMONDS: [ogling FIONA] He… er… helped you?

FIONA: [matter of fact] Yes. We lived together in London and got married just before we came home. [Pause.] I was pregnant. [She smiles.] My pills were in the same handbag as my money.

KATE: [irritated at being ignored] It would’ve never occurred to her to abstain for a few days, Sergeant.

She smiles at him knowingly.

FIONA: [smiling] Kenny told me he was clever.

SIMMONDS: [ogling KATE] What does your husband do for a living, Mrs Carter?

KATE: [determined to keep SIMMONDS’ attention] That’s a good question, Sergeant. Over there he was an overseas correspondent for the Herald. Back here it turns out that he’s a mechanic who does the maintenance on their presses. Not that I object to his occupation. Just the lies.

FIONA: [smiling] I had a fair idea he was lying. He could hardly spell his name.

SIMMONDS: [his eyes still on KATE] And now he beats you?

KATE: You should see her bruises.

SIMMONDS looks at ROSS.

SIMMONDS: Actually that may not be a bad idea.

FIONA: [dubious] Is that necessary? We’ve got the medical report.

SIMMONDS: It could still help. If we can include in the report that the bruises were obvious even to the medically untrained eye, it could lend a lot of weight.

KATE: Show the sergeant your bruises, Fiona.

FIONA: [still dubious] The largest one’s on my back.

SIMMONDS: Let’s have a look, then.

FIONA hesitantly rolls up her sweater. SIMMONDS inspects her hips and back very slowly, prodding her flesh slowly and lasciviously.

Tender?

FIONA: [flinching] Yes.

SIMMONDS: [prodding] There?

FIONA: Yes. There.

She flinches.

SIMMONDS: Yes. I can see the discolouration. One of these braless birds, eh?

KATE: Nature didn’t intend us to wear bras, Sergeant.

SIMMONDS: Indeed nature did not. [Putting an arm around FIONA] I’ll tell you this much, Mrs Carter. If I had a wife like you I wouldn’t be beating her. [Inspecting her closely] Buggered if I’d be beating her.

KATE: She’s got another bruise on her thigh.

SIMMONDS bends down and hoists FIONA’s skirt up a little.

SIMMONDS: Bit hard to see that one. Ah, there it is. Ross. Get out your notebook. [To KATE] We’d be on much firmer ground if we got a bit of a sketch or something. No. Look. I’ll tell you what. Get out the Polaroid, Ross. [To FIONA] I wonder if I could get you to roll up your sweater and skirt for a second while Ross gets a snap of the bruises.

FIONA looks doubtfully across at KATE, who gives her an almost imperceptible all clear. It is a betrayal. KATE wants the situation to continue for her own amusement.