But then it isn't the boy's welfare this is all about, really. Is it, Mr. Oakley? Isn't...

Mr. Greenway: But then it isn't the boy's welfare this is all about, really. Is it, Mr. Oakley? Tom Oakley: Isn't it? Mr. Greenway: No, it's about you, I'd say. Your welfare. Tom Oakley: Me? Mr. Greenway: A lonely and, from what I hear, embittered old man, facing a lonely and bitter old age. Tom Oakley: You really think that's the only reason I want him back? Just to be company for me when I'm past it? Mr. Greenway: Well, isn't it? Basically? Tom Oakley: No, it bloody well isn't! And I resent the implication! Mr. Greenway: Doesn't it bother you at all that when you're seventy, he's still going to be in his teens? Tom Oakley: 'Course it bothers me. I'm not stupid, you know. There's not a lot we can do about that, is there? Look, I know it's not an ideal situation, anything but, but... But put it this way: it's got to be a damn sight more ideal than your Dr. Stelton in there turning him into some sort of human guinea pig. Mr. Greenway: Just tell me one thing, Mr. Oakley. Why is the boy suddenly so important to you? He's an evacuee, for God's sake. And one at that, as I understand it, you took violent exception to having foisted on you in the first place. Tom Oakley: Isn't it obvious? Mr. Greenway: Not to me, no. Nor to Dr. Stelton. Tom Oakley: Because I love him, of course. As if he was my own flesh and blood, I do. And for what it's worth, I think he loves me as well. Mr. Greenway: And is that really enough, do you think, in this day and age? Tom Oakley: Well, I suppose it has to be, hasn't it, Mr. Greenway? In this day and age or any other. Because if it isn't, what else is there, eh?