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Scene 2: Oliver is in the Anderson shelter in the back garden. He is sitting on a bed with a small table in front of him. On it is the turkey. There is a candle lamp to one side and his gas mask on the other. There is bombing and sirens and explosion noise overhead.
Oliver - I wish Jo was here with me now. He's my dog you know.
(Talks to turkey.)
It's pretty dull in here isn't it? Me and my dad took two days to build this. First we had to dig out the really dig hole and then we had to bend the sheets of metal, bolt them together and then put all the soil back over the top. After that my dad said I had the biggest muscles in the street. I wonder where dad is?
He's very important is my dad. He helps clear up some of the wreckage of the bombs and helps injured people. Some people though don't make it. It makes my dad upset when he finds somebody dead. But he says it's just war. Why do we have war? It seems a bit silly to me. We hurt them; they hurt us and lots of people die. Me and Arthur sometimes play war in here, but if dad finds us then we get shouted at, because he says that war is not a game, it's very serious. A bit like my Uncle Frank really.
Did it hurt when we plucked your feathers out? I bet it did. I got a splinter once, from playing in Harry's tree house, he's my other friend. That hurt like hell, pardon me for cursing. I bet it's very boring for you, sitting in the same pen all the time isn't it? Do you look forward to Christmas? I do.
(Reaches underneath bed and pulls out tin.)
This is my secret tin. Only me and Arthur know about this. This is where I keep my little things. There's a penny cause I'm saving up for a liquorice cartwheel, one of the big ones. There's my old train that I got a few years ago, there's my pencil and my drawing of Jo. There he is look.
(Shows picture to turkey.)
I had a yo -yo last year. I like Christmas. I like the frost on the grass and the slightly steamed up windows. Then we have Father Christmas, I call him Santa but you can call him anything, he won't mind. He comes down the chimney and fills up your stockings with presents, only if you're good though. I think this is a silly idea, as won't Santa burn himself, cause often my dad has the fire on, I help chop the wood. Anyway, if he fell he could hurt himself and singe his beard. Still he must be very good at it now he's had a lot of practise. How old is he anyway?
I bet he isn't as old as my Nan. She's pushing seventy now. I like it when she comes round to Christmas dinner though as she brings me some sweets. She's very fun to be with. Grandad isn't though. He'll just sit in front of the fire smoking his dirty cigar and drinking brandy. He doesn't talk, he just listens to the wireless.
(Yawns. Slight pause. Still shelling in background.)
You'll be stuffed soon. You taste very nice with cranberry sauce.
(Yawns again.)
I wish it would stop exploding. It's too noisy.
I wish it snows this year, I could make a huge snowman in the garden, and then we could borrow some old clothes…
(Slowly puts his head down and drifts into a deep sleep.)
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