RICHARD
Elizabeth walks in, dirty and unkempt. She flops down into a chair.
"You look exhausted my Love. How's the house clearing going?"
"Oh, you have no idea. It's all bottles and jars now for recycling." She pulls a face. "Mainly whiskey bottles. Old newspapers, all tied up with string and kept. There's been rats nesting in some of them, but he kept them anyway. And yet more old paperwork cleared out from the back of the attic."
A tap on the door, a pause, then Ross pops a head around the door. "Would you like a bath running, Mrs Haswell? Or something to eat?"
"Oh Ross. Thank you. Yes, both would be lovely. You're a life saver."
"You're welcome," he smiles then retreats back out again.
"Whiskey bottles, eh? That doesn't sound too good. Speaking of which, would you like a drink?"
