(Sheila is washing up when Margaret knocks on her door and comes into the scullery.)

SHEILA ASHTON
Oh, Margaret! You gave me a shock. I thought you were the rent man.

MARGARET PORTER
On a Sunday?

SHEILA
You never know with him. Any news?

MARGARET
No.

SHEILA
Well, go and sit down. I'll be with you in a minute, and then we'll have a cup of tea.

MARGARET
No, it's all right.

(She remains standing.)

SHEILA
Oh, I get no privacy in this place, you know. No locking the bathroom door and soaking myself for half an hour. Still, I suppose it's what you get used to.

MARGARET
Yes.
(looking around)
Peter and Janet not home today, then?

SHEILA
No, no, because I've been at the NAAFI all night. I'm due back again at two. I'll just get dressed, and, uh...then I'll put the kettle on.

MARGARET
I'll do it.

SHEILA
Thank you. How are you feeling? In yourself. I mean the baby.

(Margaret takes the kettle and fills it with water.)

MARGARET
(smiling)
Oh, fine.

SHEILA
Good. David always liked me when I was a few months gone. He said I had a bloom on me.

(She chuckles at the thought.)

SHEILA
Made up your mind what you want yet?

MARGARET
(lighting the stove)
Oh, a boy, I think.

SHEILA
Yes, I think a boy is best. A man likes a son. And then, if the next one's a girl...well, all's well and good, isn't it?

MARGARET
You know, it was funny, but I was worried sick about having children when we first got married.

SHEILA
But you’re glad now, aren’t you?

MARGARET
Oh, yes. I was as soon as I knew. Hey, you said I would be. Do you remember that night I came when David was here?

SHEILA
Christmas.

MARGARET
Mmm. I'm on my way to the Porters now.

SHEILA
It seems a long time ago, that. Doesn't it?

MARGARET
Mmm.

(Suddenly, she begins to feel faint.)

MARGARET
Do you mind if I do go and sit down?

SHEILA
(concerned)
Oh, Margaret. Are you all right?

MARGARET
Oh, yes. Yes, it's nothing to worry about. I just feel a bit giddy.

(Margaret walks into the other room to have a seat.)

SHEILA
Oh, all right. Well, you go and sit down, and, uh... I'll make the tea. And then I'll be with you.

 

(from "The War Office Regrets" by John Finch)