Cornwall. 18th June 2014. 20.30pm – 30 minutes after kick off.

Hazel, 94, is sat on the sofa. Barbara, 96, walks down the stairs and stands next to her, her right arm behind her back.

BARBARA: Did they ever get those Chilean miners out?

HAZEL: Yeah.

BARBARA: Really?

HAZEL: Like, four years ago.

BARBARA: Thank God.

HAZEL: I guess.

BARBARA: Quite scary, that story, wasn’t it?

HAZEL: Yeah.

BARBARA: Can you imagine being trapped for that long?

HAZEL: No.

BARBARA: It would be horrible, wouldn’t it?

HAZEL: Yeah.

BARBARA: You agree?

HAZEL: Well, yeah, it wouldn’t be nice.

BARBARA: So do you agree that nothing deserves to be trapped in a confined space with seemingly no hope?

HAZEL: Of course.

BARBARA: So if you knew something was lodged with no means of escape, you’d try all that you could to remove it?

HAZEL: Well, yeah, I guess I would.

Barbara moves her right arm from behind her back, revealing a sodden, sticky, brown toilet brush.

BARBARA: Good, ‘cos I’ve done it again.

© Carl Burkitt 2014