Cornwall. 13th July 2014. 19.45pm – 15 minutes before kick off.

Hazel, 94, is sat on the sofa, waiting for the World Cup 2014 Final to start. She checks her watch, wondering where Barbara, 96, is.

HAZEL: Hmm. I really hope she doesn’t turn up late for this. She’s been a bloody nightmare all tournament.

Hazel looks at the stairs.

HAZEL: Barbara?

Hazel is met with silence.

HAZEL: Barbara! The Final is on very soon, hurry up.

Hazel is met with silence.

HAZEL: Barbara? Come on…

Hazel is met with silence.

HAZEL: BARBARA, HURRY THE CHRIST UP! YOU WILL NOT RUIN THIS BLOODY GAME FOR ME.

Hazel is met with silence.

HAZEL: SCREW YOU, BARBARA-

Barbara enters the room from the kitchen, her face beaming with pride at the £40.00, 300g, Argentinean Bife de lomo (beef tenderloin) that she had lovingly cooked to absolute perfection before placing it on the plate, now sitting in her hands, beside homemade sweet potato fries and salad leaves grown in Hazel’s allotment. 

Barbara places the dish in front of Hazel.

HAZEL: Wha-?

Barbara smiles at her best friend.

BARBARA: For the past 32 days, I have been nothing but a pest to you-

HAZEL: Yeah but-

BARBARA: No buts. I’ve pranked you. I’ve bullied you. I’ve hurt you. And today I want to make it up to you.

Hazel looks at the plate.

HAZEL: Yeah, but this is-

BARBARA: The exact meal that you slaved over before the Argentina vs Bosnia-Herzegovina game in week one.

HAZEL: I-

BARBARA: You accidentally dropped it and I was a bitch about it.

HAZEL: Yeah, but-

BARBARA: Hazel, please. I just want to tell you, I’m sorry.

HAZEL: Thank you.

Barbara looks at Hazel.

BARBARA: You’re my best friend.

Hazel smiles.

BARBARA: I love you.

HAZEL: Oh, Barbara.

Hazel stands to embrace her friend.

Barbara clutches her chest and falls to the ground, crashing through the coffee table.

HAZEL: Barbara?

Barbara’s limp body lies still, her eyes rolled back.

HAZEL: Barbara?!

Hazel gets down on her knees and cradles Barbara’s head.

HAZEL: Wake up, Barbara.

Hazel kisses Barbara’s head. 

HAZEL: Please, Barbara.

A tear trickles down Hazel’s face.

HAZEL: I love you, too.

Hazel gently rests Barbara’s head on the ground. She walks towards the hallway to call 999, as Barbara flicks her the Vs and quietly starts chewing on the steak.

© Carl Burkitt 2014