My dad, I mean….
DAWN: Ian what were your family like, your old family?
IAN: It was just me and dad, I mean…me and Frank.
DAWN: So what was…Frank like?
IAN: Angry, always angry…
DAWN: What? Why?
IAN: It’s personal and I’d rather not talk about it.
DAWN: Ian, I’m your sister, you can tell me anything.
IAN: No, I don’t…
DAWN: Please Ian…What did he do, this Frank?
IAN: Not what he did, what he had…My dad, I mean Frank, he still retained his fontanella, the one from birth, it never left him.
DAWN: The thing on babies’ heads.
IAN: The very things. You’d always see it; that bald concavity moving up and down…the brain breathing.
IAN: I touched it once when he was asleep, it was very calming, up and down, up and down…it was like, like his synapses were dancing on my fingertips.
DAWN: Just weird, and the doctors did nothing.
IAN: Only once when it was pierced by a falling acorn, that’s when it started making this god awful wheezing sound, so he went to the doctor’s ten days later.
DAWN (Sings): Acorn under my fontanella, ella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh, oh, oh.
IAN: Stop…And what about your family Dawn?
DAWN: My dad, I mean Len was a very gentle man, not angry, well actually once he lost his temper.
IAN: Only once?
DAWN: Yeah, see my Len had an allotment where he grew wheat, great big stalks of wheat.
DAWN: Yeah, golden as Midas’ finger food.
IAN: I bet you never went hungry.
DAWN: I did, a family of bloody coeliacs next door destroyed it, said we were contributing to their ill-health…that’s the only time I saw Len cry….I only heard him the other times.
IAN: That’s a shame, about the wheat that is…
DAWN: Coeliacs destroyed the only interest I shared with my Len and I will never ever forgive them for that.
IAN: I’m sorry…