[She sits down and sighs. He arrives a minute later and holds out a piece of paper.]
Him: E’are, a Christmas box for yer. I wan’ ‘alf if you win!
[She takes the scratch card.]
Her: Bobby, put that bag down!
Him: I’ll get a seat now.
[He sits down.]
Her: Where’s that one goin’?
[He stands back up again to look at the train.]
Him: It’s goin’ nowhere. Eight minutes.
[He sits down again.]
Her: Put that in the bag.
[She passes him a paper bag. He drops it into the shopping bag he’s holding.]
Him: What is it?
Her: A sausage an’ bean thing fer our Susie. That kettle was an okay price.
[He unfolds his newspaper and begins to read.]
Her: Two or three quid dearer than the last one though.
Him: It’ll be made in China. Look at this.
[He shows her the paper. She looks past it.]
Her: The prices of trains an’ busses these days is terrible. Nothing on it.
[He looks up, momentarily lost, then down to the scratch card in her lap. She has been quietly scratching it.]
Him: You sure?
Him: Oh well. One of these days…