Bobbie, 39, and Plum, 17, are sitting on the bonnet of a car next to a pebble beach. The sound of the sea. Bobbie rolls and lights up a cigarette. She takes a deep draw. Plum holds out her hands and Bobbie passes her the rollup. Plum draws and watches the smoke leave her lips. Plum cough. Bobbie laughs. Plum hands back the cigarette.
Plum: I don’t know why you like that shit.
Bobbie: Habit. Like picking spots or bring up a kid.
Plum: I’ve never picked a spot.
Plum: There’s these people on Youtube who just post videos of squeezing black heads.
Bobbie: And that’s why culture died with your lot.
Plum: Well, we’ll never be able to buy a flat so we have to find something to do.
Bobbie: You’ll buy a flat.
Plum: You didn’t.
Bobbie: I grew up in a welfare state where people gave a shit.
Plum: Will they make you move to a smaller place? The council?
Bobbie: God, I hope not.
Plum: No one would want it anyway. It’s like the black hole of Calcutta.
Bobbie: We rubbed along.
Plum: Rubbed the wrong way more like.
Bobbie: It was all the hormones.
Plum: Yours or mine?
Bobbie: Bit of both.
Plum: Well, you can be a proper grown up now.
Boobie: I’ve been a proper grown up for years, thank you very much.
Plum: You know what I mean.
Bobbie: I know you’re a cheeky cow.
Plum: Am I doing the right thing?
Bobbie: What do you mean?
Plum: Well it will be different won’t it?
Bobbie: Will it?
Plum: We’ll be different, mum.
Bobbie: We’ve always been different.
Plum: Yeah. Maybe.
Bobbie: My mum kicked me out the house when I was 15. I’m not kicking you out.
Plum: I know.
Bobbie: You’re room will be here in the holidays. If you want it.
Plum: Why wouldn’t I want it?
Bobbie: You’ll be in that place, Plum. With all the people who ski and went to Disneyland when they were like 10 or something.
Plum: You saying Dreamland isn’t the same?
Bobbie: You know it isn’t.
Plum: I’m not going to fit in, am I?
Bobbie: Fitting in is overrated.
Plum: They’ll all have gone to private school and know how to use a dinner fork properly.
Bobbie: Their clever people, Plum, not Princess fucking Diana.
Bobbie: Have I taught you nothing?
Bobbie: Stop being a tool. Yes, none of our mob have been to a University. Yes we have a council flat and I work in a bar. But you’ve seen real life Plum. Real people have loved you, and been your mates or complete cunts and you got through it. And now some posh University has picked you out of a shit ton of people to have an education that most of those rich bitches would chew their arm off for.
Plum: I suppose you’re right.
Bobbie: I know I’m right. You can survive a council estate in Croydon, you can survive anything.
Plum: Nice here. Isn’t it?
Bobbie: Love it. Used to come down here with your dad.
Bobbie: Yeah. We used to stop here on his bike, on the way to Brighton. Pissed out of our brains but you did that back then.
Plum: My existence always surprises me.
Bobbie: Not as surprised as we were.
Plum: You miss him?
Bobbie: Nah. He was a twat.
Bobbie: Before you, we were coasting.
Bobbie: Yeah. Just mucking about. Then I realised I was late and then 5 months later there you were. I was terrified. What if all the mums at the school gate thought I was a slag or I couldn’t help with your homework.
Plum: You didn’t help with my homework.
Bobbie: Only because you’d always finished it by the time I picked you up from school. What kind of weirdo likes homework?
Plum: Bog off.
Bobbie: What I’m trying to say Plum, it that you made me see what life was all about. You made me care enough to get my shit together and try a bit harder and be a bit less shit. That what happens in life. You come across stuff that scares the willies out of you, and the world just clicks into place.
Plum: Like going to Uni?
Bobbie: Like going to Uni.
Plum: It was a good idea to drive down here mum.
Bobbie: Well, we both know where you get your smarts.
Plum: I’m glad I got to spend the day with you.
Bobbie: What time the bus tomorrow?
Bobbie: Great. I’ll start the house party at 4 then.
Bobbie: I lied.
Bobbie: You’re not the first to go to University.
Bobbie: Uncle Teddy.
Bobbie: Yeah was a porter at Cambridge. You’re not that special.
Plum: Knob off, mum.
Plum: I’m gonna get a coffee from that little cart down the beach. Want one?
Plum jumps down off the car bonnet.
Bobbie: Love you.
Plum: Love you too mum.
Plum walks off.
Bobbie rolls another cigarette and lights it. She lays back on the car windscreen.