mock exam paper 3 exams

MOCK PAPER 1ENGLISH LITERATURE (SPECIFICATION A) LITA3 Unit 3 Reading for Meaning

2 hours 30 minutes

Please read this advice carefully before you turn to the material.1. Reading.

- Here are the materials taken from the prescribed area for study, Love Through the Ages. You will be using this material to answer the two questions on the page opposite.

- Read all four pieces (A, B, C and D) and their introductions several times in the light of the questions set. Your reading should be close and careful.

2. Wider Reading The questions test your wider reading in the prescribed area for study, Love Through the Ages. In your answers, you should take every opportunity to refer to your wider reading.

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Answer both questions

1 Read the two poems (Extract A and B) carefully. They were written at different times by different writers.

Basing your answer on the poems and, where appropriate, your wider reading in the poetry of love, compare the ways the two poets have used poetic form, structure and language to express their thoughts and ideas.

(40 marks)

2 Write a comparison of the ways Woolf and Williams present unrequited love

You should consider:o the ways the writers’ choices of form, structure and language shape your responses

to these extractso how your wider reading in the literature of love has contributed to your

understanding and interpretation of the extracts.

(40 marks)

1

The Reading

Extract A

Nii Ayikwei Parkes, a Ghanaian writer, is also a performer and has led workshops in Africa, the Americas and Europe. He writes mainly in English, but occasionally in French and his native Ga. His first collection of poetry, Eyes of a Boy, Lips of a Man was published in 1999. Since then he has written jazz-inspired poems and short stories and was a 2005 associate writer-in-residence for BBC Radio 3.

Sometimes I like it to rainHeavy, relentless and loud,So you burrow into me like pain,And inhale me slow and free.

I like the clouds to stretchAnd darken, and shadow the worldAs water mimics prison bars,And we bond like inmates.For at these times the sunRestrains its prying eyes,Neighbours melt in the gloom,And we are alone in love

It is morning,But neither day nor night;You are neither you nor II am neither prisoner nor free.

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Extract B

Thomas Carew (1594/5-1640) was influenced by John Donne, for whom he wrote an elegy, published with Donne’s poems in 1633. His own poems were published in 1640. He was favoured by Charles I and, along with his friend Sir John Suckling, became one of the major Cavalier poets.

Ask Me No More by Thomas Carew

Ask me no more where Jove bestows,When June is past, the fading rose;For in your beauty's orient deepThese flowers, as in their causes, sleep.

Ask me no more whither do strayThe golden atoms of the day;For in pure love heaven did prepareThose powders to enrich your hair.

Ask me no more whither doth hasteThe nightingale when May is past;For in your sweet dividing throatShe winters and keeps warm her note.

Ask me no more where those stars 'lightThat downwards fall in dead of night;For in your eyes they sit, and thereFixed become as in their sphere.

Ask me no more if east or westThe Phoenix builds her spicy nest;For unto you at last she flies,And in your fragrant bosom dies.

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Extract C

This extract is from Virginia Woolf’s ‘The Waves’ (1931). Virginia Woolf was boldly experimental in her writing, at the forefront of the Modernist movement. Conventional plotting and characterisation are replaced by impressionistic writing and subtly indirect narration. Woolf suffered bouts of severe depression during her lifetime, and in 1941 she drowned herself in the River Ouse. In ‘The Waves’, Woolf tells the life stories of six different characters from childhood to maturity. Their inner lives are the focus of the novel, depicted through each person’s ‘stream of consciousness’, the outpouring of every thought, feeling and sensation as it occurs. Here, at the beginning of the novel, the six young children are playing outside. Susan sees Jinny kiss Louis.

“'I was running,' said Jinny, 'after breakfast. I saw leaves moving in a hole in the hedge. I thought "That is a bird on its nest." I parted them and looked; but there was no bird on a nest. The leaves went on moving. I was frightened. I ran past Susan, past Rhoda, and Neville and Bernard in the tool-house talking. I cried as I ran, faster and faster. What moved the leaves? What moves my heart, my legs? And I dashed in here, seeing you green as a bush, like a branch, very still, Louis, with your eyes fixed. "Is he dead?" I thought, and kissed you, with my heart jumping under my pink frock like the leaves, which go on moving, though there is nothing to move them. Now I smell geraniums; I smell earth mould. I dance. I ripple. I am thrown over you like a net of light. I lie quivering flung over you.'

'Through the chink in the hedge,' said Susan, 'I saw her kiss him. I raised my head from my flower-pot and looked through a chink in the hedge. I saw her kiss him. I saw them, Jinny and Louis, kissing. Now I will wrap my agony inside my pocket-handkerchief. It shall be screwed tight into a ball. I will go to the beech wood alone, before lessons. I will not sit at a table, doing sums. I will not sit next Jinny and next Louis. I will take my anguish and lay it upon the roots under the beech trees. I will examine it and take it between my fingers. They will not find me. I shall eat nuts and peer for eggs through the brambles and my hair will be matted and I shall sleep under hedges and drink water from ditches and die there.'

'Susan has passed us,' said Bernard. 'She has passed the tool-house door with her handkerchief screwed into a ball. She was not crying, but her eyes, which are so beautiful, were narrow as cats' eyes before they spring. I shall follow her, Neville. I shall go gently behind her, to be at hand, with my curiosity, to comfort her when she bursts out in a rage and thinks, "I am alone."

'Now she walks across the field with a swing, nonchalantly, to deceive us. Then she comes to the dip; she thinks she is unseen; she begins to run with her fists clenched in front of her. Her nails meet in the ball of her pocket-handkerchief. She is making for the beech woods out of the light. She spreads her arms as she comes to them and takes to the shade like a swimmer. But she is blind after the light and trips and flings herself down on the roots under the trees, where the light seems to pant in and out, in and out. The branches heave up and down. There is agitation and trouble here. There is gloom. The light is fitful. There is anguish here. The roots make a skeleton on the ground, with dead leaves heaped in the angles. Susan has spread her anguish out. Her pocket-handkerchief is laid on the roots of the beech trees and she sobs, sitting crumpled where she has fallen.'

'I saw her kiss him,' said Susan. 'I looked between the leaves and saw her. She danced in flecked with diamonds light as dust. And I am squat, Bernard, I am short. I have eyes that look close to the ground and see insects in the grass. The yellow warmth in my side turned to stone when I saw Jinny kiss Louis. I shall eat grass and die in a ditch in the brown water where dead leaves have rotted.'”

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Extract D

This extract is from Tennessee Williams’ ‘The Glass Menagerie’ (1941). In this extract Tom, instructed by his mother, brings a gentleman caller home for Laura. It is Jim, for whom Laura has nursed a quiet passion since their last years at school together. When the pair are left alone, Jim coaxes the gentle and reclusive Laura out of her shyness. She begins to blossom, but Jim is not a free man...

JIM It's right for you! -You're -pretty!LAURA In what way am I pretty?JIM In all respects--believe me! Your eyes--your hair--are pretty! Your hands are pretty!

He catches hold of her hand.You think I'm making this up because I'm invited to dinner and have to be nice. Oh, I could do that! I could put on an act for you, Laura, and say lots of things without being very sincere. But this time I am. I'm talking to you sincerely. I happened to notice you had this inferiority complex that keeps you from feeling comfortable with people. Somebody needs to build your confidence up and make you proud instead of shy and turning away and – blushing – Somebody - ought to - Ought to - kiss you, Laura! His hand slips slowly up her arm to her shoulder. MUSIC SWELLS TUMULTUOUSLY. He suddenly turns her about and kisses her on the lips. When he releases her, LAURA sinks on the sofa with a bright, dazed look. JIM backs away and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette. Stumble-john! He lights the cigarette, avoiding her look. There is a peal of girlish laughter from AMANDA in the kitchen. LAURA slowly raises and opens her hand. It still contains the little broken glass animal. She looks at it with a tender, bewildered expression.Stumble-john! I shouldn't have done that-- That was way off the beam. You don't smoke, do you? She looks up, smiling, not hearing the question. He sits beside her a little gingerly. She looks at him speechlessly--waiting. He coughs decorously and moves a little farther aside as he considers the situation and senses her feelings, dimly, with perturbation. Gently.Would you--care for a--mint? She doesn't seem to hear him but her look grows brighter even. Peppermint--Life-Saver? My pocket's a regular drug store--wherever I go . . . He pops a mint in his mouth. Then gulps and decides to make a clean breast of it. He speaks slowly and gingerly.Laura, you know, if I had a sister like you, I'd do the same thing as Tom. I'd bring out fellows and - introduce her to them. The right type of boys of a type to - appreciate her. Only – well - he made a mistake about me. Maybe I've got no call to be saying this. That may not have been the idea in having me over. But what if it was? There's nothing wrong about that. The only trouble is that in my case - I'm not in a situation to - do the right thing. I can't take down your number and say I'll phone. I can't call up next week and - ask for a date.

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I thought I had better explain the situation in case you - misunderstood it and - hurt your feelings. . . . Pause. Slowly, very slowly, LAURA'S look changes, her eyes returning slowly from his to the ornament in her palm. AMANDA utters another gay laugh in the kitchen.

LAURA Faintly. You - won't - call again?JIM No, Laura, I can't.

He rises from the sofa.As I was just explaining, I've - got strings on me. Laura, I've - been going steady! I go out all of the time with a girl named Betty. She's a home-girl like you, and Catholic, and Irish, and in a great many ways we - get along fine. I met her last summer on a moonlight boat trip up the river to Alton, on the Majestic. Well - right away from the start it was - love! LAURA sways slightly forward and grips the arm of the sofa. He fails to notice, now enrapt in his own comfortable being.Being in love has made a new man of me! Leaning stiffly forward, clutching the arm of the sofa, LAURA struggles visibly with her storm. But JIM is oblivious, she is a long way off.The power of love is really pretty tremendous! Love is something that - changes the whole world, Laura! The storm abates a little and LAURA leans back. He notices her again. It happened that Betty's aunt took sick, she got a wire and had to go to Centralia. So Tom - when he asked me to dinner - I naturally just accepted the invitation, not knowing that you - that he - that I - He stops awkwardly. Huh--I'm a stumble-john! He flops back on the sofa. The holy candles in the altar of LAURA'S face have been snuffed out. There is a look of almost infinite desolation. JIM glances at her uneasily.I wish that you would--say something. She bites her lip which was trembling and then bravely smiles. She opens her hand again on the broken glass ornament. Then she gently takes his hand and raises it level with her own. She carefully places the unicorn in the palm of his hand, then pushes his fingers closed upon it.What are you--doing that for? You want me to have him?-- Laura? She nods. What for?

LAURA A – souvenir...

Mock Paper 2ENGLISH LITERATURE (SPECIFICATION A) LITA3

6

Unit 3 Reading for Meaning

2 hours 30 minutes





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1 Read the two poems (Extract A and B) carefully. They were written at different times by different writers.

Basing your answer on the poems and, where appropriate, your wider reading in the poetry of love, compare the ways the two poets have used poetic form, structure and language to express their thoughts and ideas.

(40 marks)

2 Write a comparison of the ways Henry James and Edward Albee present aspects of married life and love.

You should consider:o the ways the writers’ choices of form, structure and language shape

your responses to these extractso how your wider reading in the literature of love has contributed to your


(40 marks)

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The Reading

Extract A

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861) lived for several years as an invalid. She then mat and fell in love with Robert Browning, who was already married at the time of their meeting. They later married in secret and spent the rest of their married life in Italy. Rather than declining into an isolated death as an invalid, in this poem, the poet embraces the joys of married life on earth with her lover.

XXIII. "Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead..."by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1850)

Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?And would the sun for thee more coldly shineBecause of grave-damps falling round my head?I marvelled, my Belovèd, when I readThy thought so in the letter. I am thine---But . . . so much to thee? Can I pour thy wineWhile my hands tremble? Then my soul, insteadOf dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.Then love me, Love! look on me---breathe on me!As brighter ladies do not count it strange,For love, to give up acres and degree,I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchangeMy near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee!

Extract B

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http://www3.amherst.edu/~rjyanco94/literature/elizabethbarrettbrowning/menu.html

Vicki Feaver was born in Nottingham in 1943 and has won many awards for her poetry. Her metaphors compel the reader; in particular, she employs classical myth in order to shed light on the female condition in dramatic monologues such as ‘Medusa’ and ‘Circe’. This poem appears to materialise out of nowhere like a crack in the wall.

‘The Crack’, Vicki Feaver

cut right through the house – a thick wiggly lineyou could poke a finger into, a deep gash seepingfine black dust.

It didn’t appear overnight.For a long timeit was such a fine linewe went up and down stairsoblivious of the stresses

that were splittingour walls and ceilings apart.And even when it thickenedand darkened, we went onnot seeing, or seeing

but believing the crackwould heal itself,if dry earth was to blame,a winter of rainwould seal its edges.

You didn’t tell meThat you heard at nightits faint stirringslike something alive.And I didn’t tell you –

until the crackhad opened so widethat if we’d moved in our sleepto reach for each otherwe’d have fallen through.

Extract C

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Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady (1881)

Henry James, (1843-1916) was an American writer, regarded as one of the key figures of 19th-century literary realism. James spent the last 40 years of his life in England, becoming a British subject in 1915, one year before his death. He is primarily known for the series of novels in which he portrays the encounter of Americans with Europe and Europeans. His method of writing from the point of view of a character within a tale allows him to explore issues related to consciousness and perception, and his style in later works has been compared to impressionist painting. This extract marks the point in the novel where Isabel Archer sees clearly that her husband does not love her. It comes as a dark realisation.

It was as if he had had the evil eye; as if his presence were a blight and his favour a misfortune. Was the fault in himself, or only in the deep mistrust she had conceived for him? This mistrust was the clearest result of their short married life; a gulf had opened between them over which they looked at each other with eyes that were on either side a declaration of the deception suffered. It was a strange opposition, of the like of which she had never dreamed—an opposition in which the vital principle of the one was a thing of contempt to the other. It was not her fault—she had practised no deception; she had only admired and believed. She had taken all the first steps in the purest confidence, and then she had suddenly found the infinite vista of a multiplied life to be a dark, narrow alley, with a dead wall at the end. Instead of leading to the high places of happiness, from which the world would seem to lie below one, so that one could look down with a sense of exaltation and advantage, and judge and choose and pity, it led rather downward and earthward, into realms of restriction and depression, where the sound of other lives, easier and freer, was heard as from above, and served to deepen the feeling of failure. It was her deep distrust of her husband—this was what darkened the world. That is a sentiment easily indicated, but not so easily explained, and so composite in its character that much time and still more suffering had been needed to bring it to its actual perfection. Suffering, with Isabel, was an active condition; it was not a chill, a stupor, a despair; it was a passion of thought, of speculation, of response to every pressure. She flattered herself, however, that she had kept her failing faith to herself—that no one suspected it but Osmond. Oh, he knew it, and there were times when she thought that he enjoyed it. It had come gradually—it was not till the first year of her marriage had closed that she took the alarm. Then the shadows began to gather; it was as if Osmond deliberately, almost malignantly, had put the lights out one by one. The dusk at first was vague and thin, and she could still see her way in it. But it steadily increased, and if here and there it had occasionally lifted, there were certain corners of her life that were impenetrably black. These shadows were not an emanation from her own mind; she was very sure of that; she had done her best to be just and temperate, to see only the truth. They were a part of her husband’s very presence. They were not his misdeeds, his turpitudes; she accused him of nothing—that is, of but one thing, which was not a crime. She knew of no wrong that he had done; he was not violent, he was not cruel; she simply believed that he hated her. That was all she accused him of, and the miserable part of it was precisely that it was not a crime, for against a crime she might have found redress. He

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impressionism

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perception

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Consciousness

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_subject

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Literary_realism

had discovered that she was so different, that she was not what he had believed she would prove to be.

Extract D

Edward Albee, from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1962)

Edward Albee (born 1928) is an American playwright. His works are considered well-crafted, often unsympathetic examinations of the modern condition. This play, set in a small town American university campus, this play dissects two marriages. George and Martha are playing games with the younger couple, Nick and Honey. Here George takes centre stage, with Honey and Nick as his audience. Honey begins to grasp the full meaning of the tale he tells.

GEORGE: How They Got Married. Well, how they got married is this...the mouse got all puffed up one day and she went over to Blondie’s house, and she stuck out her puff and she said...look at me.

HONEY: (white...on her feet) I...don’t...like this.NICK: (to George) Stop it!GEORGE: Look at me...I’m all puffed up. Oh my goodness, said Blondie.HONEY: (as from a distance)...and so they were married.GEORGE: ...and so they were married...HONEY: ...And then...GEORGE: ...and then.HONEY: (hysteria) WHAT? And then, WHAT?NICK: NO! no!GEORGE: (as if to a baby) and then the puff went away...Like

magic...pouf!NICK: (almost sick) Jesus God.HONEY: ...the puff went away...GEORGE: ...poufNICK: Honey...I didn’t mean to...honestly, I didn’t mean to...HONEY: You...you told them.

(Grabbing at her belly) Ohhhh nooooo.NICK: Honey...baby...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to.GEORGE: (abruptly and with some disgust) And that’s how you play Get

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Playwright

the Guests.

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MOCK PAPER 3ENGLISH LITERATURE (SPECIFICATION A) LITA3 Unit 3 Reading for Meaning

2 hours 30 minutes





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1 Read the two drama extracts (Extract A and B) carefully. They were written at different times by different writers.

Basing your answer on the drama extracts and, where appropriate, your wider reading in drama, compare the ways the two playwrights have used dramatic form, structure and language to express their thoughts and ideas.

(40 marks)

2 Write a comparison of the ways Christina Rossetti and Hanif Kureishi explore ideas of love, loss and the relationship between love and memory.

You should consider:o the ways the writers’ choices of form, structure and language shape

your responses to these extractso how your wider reading in the literature of love has contributed to your


(40 marks)

The Reading

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Extract A: Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night

William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616) was an English poet and playwright, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. In this extract from Twelfth Night Viola is dressed in male disguise, as Cesario. Orsino is in love with Olivia, but Olivia has mistakenly fallen in love with Cesario (Viola in disguise as a male). Viola herself is in love with Orsino, but he thinks she is male and has employed her/him to woo Olivia for him. Viola attempts to communicate her love in code.

VIOLA: But if she cannot love you, sir?DUKE ORSINO: I cannot be so answer'd.VIOLA: Sooth, but you must.Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,Hath for your love a great a pang of heartAs you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?DUKE ORSINO: There is no woman's sidesCan bide the beating of so strong a passionAs love doth give my heart; no woman's heartSo big, to hold so much; they lack retentionAlas, their love may be call'd appetite,No motion of the liver, but the palate,That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;But mine is all as hungry as the sea,And can digest as much: make no compareBetween that love a woman can bear meAnd that I owe Olivia.VIOLA: Ay, but I know--DUKE ORSINO: What dost thou know?VIOLA: Too well what love women to men may owe:In faith, they are as true of heart as we.My father had a daughter loved a man,As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,I should your lordship.DUKE ORSINO: And what's her history?VIOLA: A blank, my lord. She never told her love,But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,And with a green and yellow melancholyShe sat like patience on a monument,Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?We men may say more, swear more: but indeedOur shows are more than will; for still we proveMuch in our vows, but little in our love.

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_language

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Playwright

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poet

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_people

Extract B

Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest (1895)

Oscar Wilde (1854 – 1900) was an Irish writer, poet, and prominent aesthete. His parents were successful Dublin intellectuals, and from an early age he was tutored at home, where he showed his intelligence, becoming fluent in French and German. Reading Greats, Wilde proved himself to be an outstanding classicist, first at Dublin, then at Oxford. Known for his biting wit, flamboyant dress, and glittering conversation, Wilde was one of the most well-known personalities of his day. It was his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray – still widely read – that brought him more lasting recognition. The Importance of Being Earnest follows two young women, Cecily and Gwendolen, as they aim to stage manage their own proposals.

Gwendolen. Married, Mr. Worthing?

Jack. [Astounded.] Well… surely. You know that I love you, and you led me to believe, Miss Fairfax, that you were not absolutely indifferent to me.

Gwendolen. I adore you. But you haven’t proposed to me yet. Nothing has been said at all about marriage. The subject has not even been touched on.

Jack. Well… may I propose to you now?

Gwendolen. I think it would be an admirable opportunity. And to spare you any possible disappointment, Mr. Worthing, I think it only fair to tell you quite frankly before-hand that I am fully determined to accept you.

Jack. Gwendolen!

Gwendolen. Yes, Mr. Worthing, what have you got to say to me?

Jack. You know what I have got to say to you.

Gwendolen. Yes, but you don’t say it.

Jack. Gwendolen, will you marry me? [Goes on his knees.]

Gwendolen. Of course I will, darling. How long you have been about it! I am afraid you have had very little experience in how to propose.

Jack. My own one, I have never loved any one in the world but you.

Gwendolen. Yes, but men often propose for practice. I know my brother Gerald does.

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Picture_of_Dorian_Gray

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Picture_of_Dorian_Gray

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magdalen_College,_Oxford

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trinity_College,_Dublin

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greats

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aestheticism

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_poetry

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_people

All my girl-friends tell me so. What wonderfully blue eyes you have, Ernest! They are quite, quite, blue. I hope you will always look at me just like that, especially when there are other people present.

Extract C

Christina Rossetti, Remember (1862)

Christina Georgina Rossetti (5 December 1830 – 29 December 1894) was an English poet who wrote a variety of romantic, devotional, and children's poems. When the sonnet “Remember” first appeared in “Goblin Market” and Other Poems in 1862, it was both warmly and sadly received by readers. A mixture of happiness and depression tends to run throughout many of Christina Rossetti’s poems, and this one, which begins “Remember me when I am gone away,” implies immediately a loving, yet sad, request.

Remember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of our future that you plann'd:Only remember me; you understandIt will be late to counsel then or pray.Yet if you should forget me for a whileAnd afterwards remember, do not grieve:For if the darkness and corruption leaveA vestige of the thoughts that once I had,Better by far you should forget and smileThan that you should remember and be sad.

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poet

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/England

Extract DHanif Kureishi, The Body (2002)This prose extract is taken from the conclusion of the short story ‘Remember This Moment, Remember Us’, from his collection of short stories, The Body (2002), by Hanif Kureishi. Anna and Rick decide to leave a tape message for their two-year-old son, Daniel, to be watched when he is Rick’s age – 45. Although they haven't decided what to say, they will go ahead with the filming certain that something will occur to them. This spontaneity may make their little dispatch to the future seem less portentous. Rick lugs the Christmas tree over towards the sofa where they will sit for the message and turns on the lights. He regards his wife through the camera. She has let down her hair. ‘How splendid you look!’ She asks, ‘Should I take my slippers off?’ ‘Anna, your fluffies won’t be immortalised. I’ll frame it down to our waists.’ She gets up and looks at him through the eye piece, telling him he’s as fine as he’ll ever be. He switches on the camera and notices there is only about fifteen minutes of tape left. With the camera running, he hurries towards the sofa, being careful not to trip up. They will not be able to do this twice. Noticing a half-eaten sardine on the arm of the sofa, he drops it into his pocket. Rick sits down knowing this will be a sombre business, for he has been, in a sense, already dead for a while. The two of them will have fallen out on numerous occasions; Daniel might love him bit will have disliked him, too, in the normal way. Daniel might love him but will have disliked him, too, in the normal way. Daniel could hardly have anything but a complicated idea of his past, but these words from eternity will serve as a simple reminder. After all, it is the unloved who are the most dangerous people on earth. The light on the top of the camera is flashing. As Anna and Rick turn their heads and look into the dark moon of the lens, neither of them speaks for what seems a long time. At last, Rick says, ‘Hello there,’ rather self-consciously, as though meeting a stranger for the first time. On stage he is never anxious like this. Anna, also at a loss, copies him. ‘Hello, Daniel, my son,’ she says. ‘It’s your mummy.’ ‘And daddy,’ Rick says. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Here we are!’ ‘Your parents,’ he says. ‘Remember us? Do you remember this day?’ There is a silence; they wonder what to do. Anna turns to Rick then, placing her hands on his face. She strokes his face as if painting it for the camera. She takes his hand and puts it to her fingers and cheeks. Rick leans over and takes her head between his hands and kisses her on the cheek and on the forehead and on the lips, and she caresses his hair and pulls him to her. With their heads together, they begin to call out, ‘Hello, Dan, we hope you’re ok, we just wanted to say hello.’ ‘Yes, that’s right,’ chips in the other. ‘Hello!’ ‘We hope you had a good forty-fifth birthday, Dan, with plenty of presents.’ ‘Yes, and we hope you’re well, and your wife, or whoever it is you’re with.’ ‘Yes, hello there...wife of Dan.’ ‘And children of Dan,’ she adds. ‘Yes’, he says. ‘Children of Dan – however many of you there are, boys or girls or whatever

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– all the best! A good life to every single one of you!’ ‘Yes, yes!’ she says. ‘All of that and more!’ ‘More, more, more!’ Rick says. After the kissing and stroking and cuddling and saying hello, and with a little time left, they are at a loss as to what to do, but right on cue, Dan has an idea. He clambers up from the floor and settles himself on both of them, and they kiss him and pass him between them and get him to wave at himself. When he has done this, he closes his eyes, his head falls into the crook of his mother’s arm, and he smacks his lips; and as the tape whirls towards its end, and the rain falls outside and time passes, they want him to be sure of at least this one thing, more than forty years from now, when he looks at these old-fashioned people in the past sitting on the sofa next to the Christmas tree, that on this night they loved him, and they loved each other. ‘Goodbye, Daniel,’ says Anna. ‘Goodbye,’ says Rick. ‘Goodbye, goodbye,’ they say together.

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