SIMMONDS: That’s enough from you, Carter.

KATE: [to FIONA] I was very drunk that night. I can’t remember much about it.

FIONA: I wouldn’t worry.

KATE: [angrily] And I don’t care what he says. Your husband wasn’t plying me with whisky for nothing.

KENNY: Bloody oath I wasn’t. I was hoping you’d pass out.

KATE: [angrily] You egged me on till I made a fool of myself, then deliberately humiliated me. [Pause. She turns to FIONA.] I’ve left the children with a babysitter. If you don’t mind I’ll call a taxi.

SIMMONDS: [narrowly] Aren’t you going to help your sister unpack, Mrs Mason?

KATE: No. I’m afraid I’ll have to get home, Sergeant.

SIMMONDS: I see. Well, don’t call a taxi. I’ll give you a lift. Ross and the removalist [indicating the pair who have just returned] can take care of the unpacking.

KATE: No. Thank you all the same, Sergeant. I’ll call a taxi.

She goes into the kitchen. SIMMONDS glares at her as she goes.

KENNY: [to FIONA] Where are you moving into?

FIONA: A flat.

KENNY: And the lads here were going to help you shift in? I see.

SIMMONDS: [menacing] Shut up, Carter.

KENNY: Pity about Kate, Sergeant. You would’ve been in like Flynn.

SIMMONDS slams KENNY against the door again.

REMOVALIST: [looking at his watch] Excuse me, people. What’s next on the agenda?

FIONA: [hesitantly] The television.

KENNY: [explosively] Now wait a minute!

SIMMONDS: [yelling] Shut up!

KENNY: At least you could leave us the bloody tube.

FIONA: Sophie watches ‘Sesame Street’.

KENNY: I watch every bloody thing.

SIMMONDS: [to the REMOVALIST] Take it away.

ROSS and the REMOVALIST go towards it.

KENNY: [who has been watching the television intermittently] Leave it on for a few more minutes. I want to see if the brother has a go at the wife.

The REMOVALIST looks at him as if to say: ‘You must be joking’, and unplugs it.
He watches as ROSS winds up the lead and prepares to take it out.

SIMMONDS: [still shaky] Did they teach you how to shift furniture in training, Ross?

ROSS: [sullen] No.

SIMMONDS: [to the REMOVALIST, noting his inclination to take things easy while ROSS does the work] I hope you’re finding Ross satisfactory?

REMOVALIST: [not picking the sarcasm] I wouldn’t hire the bastard.

SIMMONDS: Why not?

REMOVALIST: No experience. Lifts with his back. Jerks instead of easing. You’ve gotta know how to pace yourself. I can keep going all day.

SIMMONDS: Yes. I reckon you could.

REMOVALIST: Some bastards reckon that any fool can shift furniture, but I’ll tell you what: I’ve been at it for years and I’m still learning.

SIMMONDS: Well. There you are, Ross. You’re picking up a trade. That’s what the force does for you.

REMOVALIST: It is a bloody trade, I’ll tell you. I can pack a load that’ll hold fast over the worst bullock track in Australia, and you don’t learn that overnight, and you don’t learn it out of no books, either.