Tuesday. Lucy sits down at laptop, about to start reading for the day.

LANDLINE: Ring, ring!

LUCY’S BRAIN: No one ever phones me at 9am on the landline. Panic. Something’s wrong. Maybe the FTSE has exploded and the bank is ringing to tell me all my money has spontaneously combusted? Oh wait a minute: I have no money. Well, maybe The Girl has been biting other kids at nursery again like the bloodthirsty vampire child she is. Must. Not. Pick. Up.

Landline stops.

Phew.

MOBILE: Ring, ring!

LUCY’S BRAIN: Oh, cripes. Witheld number. Definitely not answering. Could be the school to tell me The Boy has insulted his teachers with a flagrant use of adjectives from his massively extended vocabulary… Oh, LCD flashing… Keeps ringing… Can’t resist–

–Lucy picks up mobile.

LUCY: Hello?

Beep.

LUCY: Hello, is anyone there?

INDIAN MAN: One moment, please.

LUCY: But you called me?

Beep.

Lucy drums fingers on the table.

LUCY’S BRAIN: Why in the name of bloody hell are you waiting? Put the phone down, you muppet…

Click.

INDIAN WOMAN: Hello! Hello, it is a pleasure to talk to you.

LUCY: Er, thanks. What’s this about?

INDIAN WOMAN: You have won.

LUCY: Oh… Won what?

INDIAN WOMAN: One moment, please.

Beep.

LUCY’S BRAIN: Right, this is crazy. If you can’t just put the phone down because you’re too English, just say you’re not interested when she comes back.

Beep.

Beep.

INDIAN WOMAN: Hello!

LUCY: Er, hello. Listen, I–

INDIAN WOMAN: I have exciting news, you have won.

LUCY: Yes, I know, you said. Thing is…

INDIAN WOMAN: I need to confirm a few details, will this be possible please?

LUCY: Well, that’s just it, I have work to do, I just–

INDIAN WOMAN: You are Cerys Mitchell, yes?

LUCY: Um, no.

INDIAN WOMAN: Oh. Then you have not won.

LUCY: Oh.

INDIAN WOMAN: Thank you for calling! Bye–

LUCY: But you called me.

Dial tone.