Housewife, 49

Nella Last:
[voiceover]... There is, of course, my sister-in-law's rather peculiar whirlwind engagement.

Dot:
Still can't believe it. Went to the Isle of Man - got myself a man!

Mrs Whittaker:
Good job you didn't go to the Isle of Dogs!

Cliff Last:
What do prodigal sons get these days? Fatted spam?

[at the dinner table]

Mr. Whittaker:
[jovially] What's the gen on your jolly old war wound, son?

Madeleine Whittaker:
Dad's a fighter pilot - can you tell?

Mr. Whittaker:
Where did the beggars get you, son? What was it? Hand-grenade?

Cliff Last:
[mechanically] Left thigh. Right thigh. Right buttock. Bladder. Penis.

[embarrassed silence]

Mrs Whittaker:
Could you reach me the beetroot, Edith, please.

[on VJ Night, Nella is standing at the living-room window watching the victory fireworks]

Nella Last:
Must have come through on the last news at quarter to twelve. Come and see! There's huge rockets going up from the ships in the dock. Come and see!

Daddy - Will Last:
[miserably] They woke me up.

Nella Last:
So that's peace, then.

Daddy - Will Last:
Well, it's not *my* idea of peace, this damn racket. Hope it's not going to go on all night.

Nella Last:
Shall we go out? Have a see, have a drive around?

Daddy - Will Last:
I can see drunken fools any time. I'm back to my bed. Will *you* go?

Nella Last:
I might just have a look.

[Will grunts]

Daddy - Will Last:
Watch out for folk chucking firecrackers.