Who was what?

Who was that?

Oh, my grandmother.

Oh, okay. Well, I'll....

Good.

And you know... I'm sorry.

What for?

For your loss.

Why are you sorry? Did you kill her?

I'm just being polite, mate.

It's another worn out cliche.

You're not sorry — you didn't know my grandmother!

Why would you be sorry that she is dead?

It's a bastardization of the language.

You're right. I couldn't care less she's dead.

There. Now that doesn't have feel fresher? The clean air of honesty.

I'm glad she's dead.

- Why would you be glad? - I, I got carried away, it's...

You are indifferent.

You didn't know my grandmother.

You are indifferent to her life and death.

That is proper.

Sorry about saying I'm glad, not about her death.

About which you are...?

Indifferent?

Dick.

I can hear you.

Sorry, but not about your dead nan.

Look, can I ask you something? A serious question.

Quickly, please.

Why aren't you upset about your gran?

What makes you think I'm not upset?

Well, normally people are affected by a loss.

They show it in some way.

What about your nan?

She was an extraordinary woman, and her loss afire in my soul.

Tell your face.

Tell my face what?

Normally people... cry!

I can't afford to cry.

Look, I could break down now in front of you, rivers of tears, and fall into your arms, and then what?

Well, then you'd feel better.

I'm a great cuddle.

Look, I've got lovely big mom tits. Come on!

- Oh, God. - Come on!

But then all the emotion will be used up, wasted!

My grandmother would be buried, and I'd sit down to try and describe the pain, and there'd be nothing left!

You can't use everything that you go through in life for a... book!

Sometimes you've just got to... be!

I think my grandmother deserves more than a spontaneous howl of anguish.

She deserves a novella at least.

So, I shall push it down. I either cry, or I write.

Hmph. Well, doesn't sound very healthy to me.