The curtain rises.

And the stage is in darkness for a second or two, until a soft spotlight falls on a small item of furniture at stage left. It is a crib. In the crib is a newborn infant. The infant is a girl. She is asleep.

A soft click is heard. The light over the crib fades low and another spotlight falls stage right on two easy chairs on either side of a round table on which rests a lamp. MOTHER, reading a $9.95 Penguin reissued copy of Brideshead Revisited, and FATHER, reading a newspaper, sit in the chairs. The remains of afternoon tea rest on the table alongside the lamp.

The scene remains thus for several seconds until broken by noises off. The noises sound like the approach of stampeding elephants. A door crashes, unseen. A boy, pursued by a smaller boy, gallops onto the stage. The latter boy follows. His arm is outstretched, and his finger and thumb are cocked, as if to shoot.

They slide to a stop, glance at MOTHER and FATHER, and remain in position for several seconds. FATHER's newspaper rustles. The boys turn back to each other again.

SMALLER BOY: Bang!

*

Alexandra was born on Monday, and came home today. Her weight was 10lb 3oz, if you can discuss a lady's weight. All well. "Monday's child is fair of face ..."