MARGARET PORTER
I suppose with Mum away, you'll be moving back into your old room.

EDWIN ASHTON
Does it make any difference to you?

MARGARET
Only as far as the laundry is concerned.

EDWIN
Oh, yes. I mean, I only moved out because I'm so restless these nights, and your mother can't afford to lose more sleep than she does already.

MARGARET
Yes, she explained all that. Dad?

EDWIN
Hmm?

MARGARET
Can I talk to you?

EDWIN
(laughing)
Have you ever stopped?

MARGARET
Oh, Dad! No. It's just that, I mean, well, I never understand about marriages. The most odd things seem to happen in marriage. Well, mine was so short I suppose I didn't have time to find out.

EDWIN
Well, I expect that we...

MARGARET
Now, look, Dad...he's not coming back. I've made up my mind, and that's it. Of course, there's still a part of me that won't... Look, that's not what we're talking about. It's other people's marriages. They seem to me like...oh, you know, those bowls of dark peat that you put bulbs into. For ages it looks as though nothing's happening...but it is. And one day there's a shoot, and then a flower, and then you think, "Oh, that's fine." Then suddenly, while it's blossoming merrily away, suddenly it wilts and goes brown.

(She giggles.)

MARGARET
Hey, do you know what I'm talking about?

EDWIN
I'd hazard a guess it's about your mother and me.

MARGARET
Yes. I mean, I can understand about people going off each other, but I would have thought that after all these years, you were past that. I mean, it's reached a different level altogether. Or hasn't it?

EDWIN
You're altogether too observant.

MARGARET
Oh, now. Dad, it sticks out a mile.

EDWIN
Oh. Well, as you say, things go on underneath. But I think you're wrong about one thing. The people themselves don't know it...not necessarily.

MARGARET
(unconvinced)
Can't you do better than that?

EDWIN
Well, I was never much in favour of the blind leading the blind.

MARGARET
But you must know what's happened between you and Mum.

EDWIN
Well, yes, I know what's happened, but I'm not at all sure what it means...to me, let alone to her. Give it time, love. Your mother has to, I have to, so I think you might.

 

(from "The Other Side of the Hill" by James Brabazon and John Finch)