After initially presuming his daughter-in-law to be a prostitute, Max
Well it’s a long time since the whole family was together, eh? If only your mother was alive. Eh, what do you say, Sam? What would Jessie say if she was alive? Sitting here with her three sons. Three fine grown-up lads. And a lovely daughter-in-law. The only shame is her grandchildren aren’t here. She’d have petted them and cooed over them, wouldn’t she, Sam? She’d have fussed over them and played with them, told them stories, tickled them--I tell you she’d have been hysterical.
What fun we used to have in the bath, eh, boys? Then I came downstairs and I made Jessie put her feet up on a pouffe--what happened to that pouffe, I haven’t seen it for years--she put her feet up on the pouffe and I said to her, Jessie, I think our ship is going to come home. I’m going to treat you to a couple of items, I’m going to buy you a dress in pale corded blue silk, heavily encrusted in pearls, and for casual wear, a pair of pantaloons in lilac flowered taffeta. Then I gave her a drop of cherry brandy. I remember the boys came down, in their pyjamas, all their hair shining, their faces pink, it was before they started shaving, and they knelt down at our feet, Jessie’s and mine. I tell you, it was like Christmas.
Harold Pinter. The Homecoming. London: Faber & Faber, 1999. pp.72-3.
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