MOCK PAPER 1

ENGLISH 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.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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 extracts
o 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 rain

Heavy, relentless and loud,
So you burrow into me like pain,
And inhale me slow and free.

I like the clouds to stretch

And darken, and shadow the world
As water mimics prison bars,
And we bond like inmates.
For at these times the sun
Restrains 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 I
I am neither prisoner nor free.

Extract B

2
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 deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.

Ask me no more whither do stray

The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.

Ask me no more whither doth haste

The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.

Ask me no more where those stars 'light

That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become as in their sphere.

Ask me no more if east or west

The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.

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

3
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.'”

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

4
 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!

LAUR In what way am I pretty?
A
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.
I thought I had better explain the situation in case you -

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 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.
LAUR Faintly. You - won't - call again?
A
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?

LAUR A – souvenir...
A

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Mock Paper 2
ENGLISH LITERATURE (SPECIFICATION A) LITA3
Unit 3 Reading for Meaning

2 hours 30 minutes

Please read this advice carefully before you turn to the material.
3. 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.

4. 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.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------

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 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 extracts
o how your wider reading in the literature of love has contributed to your
understanding and interpretation of the extracts.

(40 marks)

7
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 shine
Because of grave-damps falling round my head?
I marvelled, my Belovèd, when I read
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine---
But . . . so much to thee? Can I pour thy wine
While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead
Of 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 exchange
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with
thee!

Extract B

8
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 line
you could poke a finger into,
a deep gash seeping
fine black dust.

It didn’t appear overnight.

For a long time
it was such a fine line
we went up and down stairs
oblivious of the stresses

that were splitting

our walls and ceilings apart.
And even when it thickened
and darkened, we went on
not seeing, or seeing

but believing the crack

would heal itself,
if dry earth was to blame,
a winter of rain
would seal its edges.

You didn’t tell me

That you heard at night
its faint stirrings
like something alive.
And I didn’t tell you –

until the crack

had opened so wide
that if we’d moved in our sleep
to reach for each other
we’d have fallen through.

Extract C

Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady (1881)

9
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
had discovered that she was so different, that she was not what he had believed she
would prove to be.

10
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: ...pouf
NICK: 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
the Guests.

11
MOCK PAPER 3
ENGLISH LITERATURE (SPECIFICATION A) LITA3
Unit 3 Reading for Meaning

2 hours 30 minutes

Please read this advice carefully before you turn to the material.
5. Reading.
- Here are the materials taken from the prescribed area for study, Love

12
 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.

6. 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.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------

Answer both questions

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 extracts
o how your wider reading in the literature of love has contributed to your
understanding and interpretation of the extracts.

(40 marks)

The Reading

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.

13
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 heart
As 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 sides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
Alas, 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 compare
Between that love a woman can bear me
And 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 melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.

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

14
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.
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

15
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 day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

Extract D
Hanif 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

16
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
– 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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