Albert An’ I tell ya, next time he raises his hand ta me or Joey, I’ll –

Rose You’ll what? What are ya sayin’? What are ya sayin’ ya’d do? You makin’ a threat? … You dare ta whop yer father an’ I’ll whop you harder than you can bliddin’ imagine – ya’ll think the sky’s fallen on yer head!

Albert If ya hate me so much maybe I should just run away!

Rose Eh?

Albert You always take his side.

Rose No, I don’t –

Albert Ya do!

Rose I don’t.

Albert Why?

Rose Albert –

Albert I hate him! I’m goin’, an’ I’m takin’ Joey! I’ll send ya thirty-nine guineas when I can, then ya won’t have ter worry about –

Rose My family didn’t want me ter marry yer father, they were against it most strongly, they tried ta stop us, then I … They were against us, ’n that’s when it started, between yer dad and my brother.

Albert What?

Rose They said he wasn’t good enough – they tried ta put a stop to us – but you know what, Albert – they didn’t succeed, did they?

Albert What are ya sayin’?

Rose I was carryin’ his child – carryin’ you.

Albert Oh.

Rose ‘Oh’ is what yer father said when I told him I was pregnant. But it’s not what my family said.

Albert I see.

Rose And you were much, much wanted. Always were, always will be … Yer father could’ve run away when things were that difficult – and they were very, very difficult … I often think of my brother as a combination of two birds: an owl that can turn its head right around and watch everything, and a crow with its nasty stabbing beak. Whilst yer father … he has trouble in his head. There. Now. Said … I’ve lain awake any number of nights listening to him. He mutters and he moans and I catch the odd word and I think what’s he goin’ on about? An’ after many years of trying ta understand this nocturnal mumble, I think that what he’s goin’ on about is mistakes. That he’s made. Real mistakes. But also imaginary mistakes. My brother has got my husband to believe that he’s a failure. I know, I know he drinks. That’s a remedy to help him forget his mistakes – and I know the remedy makes things worse because it causes him to make more, worse mistakes. There we are. And Ted Narracott’s the head of our farm, our king and our kaiser, and we love him – so me, and you, have ta try ta sort out his mistakes, such as this futile bet with half-owl, half-crow, all bastard brother Arthur. So what ye should do now is spruce Joey up and take him over to yer uncle. That at least will save us the humiliation of – (losing the ploughing).

Albert No!

Rose But what else can we do? You said yourself it’s impossible.