- Robbie: Don't you like him, Gary?
- Gillian: 'Course I like him.
- Robbie: Yeah, but what then? There's summat.
- Gillian: Dunno. Oh, I dunno. I like her, Felicity.
- Robbie: She's 'round the flaming twist.
- Gillian: She's funny.
- Robbie: What, then?
- Gillian: [sighs] He's a good man, me dad. He made a mistake. He did something he shouldn't have. But I can't crucify him. Gary's great. What a lovely man. How lucky are we? Oh, I dunno. Me dad's so fascinated by him, like he's the successful, suave, wunderkind he should have always had rather than the feckless nob that he ended up with.
- [first lines]
- Kate: Flora.
- Caroline: Really?
- Kate: Don't you like it?
- Caroline: It's uh... It's up to you.
- Kate: Isn't it up to both of us?
- Caroline: Yes, of course, but you're, you know... you've got more say in the matter.
- Kate: You've got to like it.
- Caroline: I don't dislike it.
- Kate: Flora Grace.
- Caroline: Okay.
- Robbie: How was it?
- [Gillian sighs and shakes her head]
- Robbie: How was Caroline?
- Gillian: Quiet, tired.
- Robbie: I don't know why you wouldn't let me come with you.
- Gillian: Sweet little baby... so sad, so heartbreaking.
- Robbie: Was that feckless streak of oily shite there?
- Gillian: Oh, John? Yeah, yeah, yeah. So probably good job you weren't there.
- Robbie: Did you talk to him?
- Gillian: No. No longer than necessary.
- Robbie: Can you imagine going to your ex-wife's girlfriend... partner's funeral? He's just got no... I don't know, decorum.
- Gillian: Yeah, well, you know what middle class people are like. Fall out, get divorced, and then still speaking to each other just to show how grown up they all are.
- Celia: I caught him smoking. Did I tell you?
- Caroline: Yes, it was me. I'm sorry.
- Celia: What are you apologizing to him for?
- Caroline: He's 76. If he can't have one single tiny cigarette without being made to feel like a six-year-old.
- Celia: We'll find out he's been spying for the Russians next.
- Caroline: Well, we've all got our shortcomings; haven't we? He smokes, you read the Daily Mail.
- Alan: I don't smoke!
- Celia: Only for the telly page. Of course you're perfect; aren't you?
- Caroline: Ish.