The Mother

May:
Oh, Darren. This cigarette's making my chest all congested. I can't breathe.

Darren:
What would happen if you did breathe?

May:
I'd say, would you... would it be too much trouble... spare rooms... would you come to the spare rooms with me... would you...

Bobby:
Don't be difficult, mother.

May:
Why not?

Bobby:
Sorry?

May:
Why shouldn't I be difficult?

Darren:
[of an older woman] We'll be like that one day. No one wanting us.

May:
Therapist?... Why can't you talk to your hairdresser like everyone else?

Bobby:
[on finding his mother's pornographic drawings] I feel as if I've just had a very hot curry!

May:
How did you become so cold?

Bobby:
How did you become so hot?

Paula:
Is there anything I'm good at? What do I want to do? What do I like? Well, I'm going to find out.

May:
Paula, is there anything I can do?

Paula:
Ah, at last! God! Yeah! I've been thinking about it for a few days actually. I think... I think I would like to hit you. Do you understand that?

May:
[matter of factly] Yes. Now?

[Paula nods affirmatively]