There are 14 days left until Dinner’s opening night.

The play has yet to be blocked. Max is still struggling with his lines. His dog-eared script surfaces during tea-breaks and breakfast. Jacob has started to despair, and has taken to saying ‘Waiter! Take it away!’ every time he sees his father running his fingers over highlighted text.

And now the weekend rehearsals have to be transplanted elsewhere as the theatre has been taken over by two simultaneous performances: an intense play featuring barefoot people chatting around a candle; and a ‘dance extravanganza’ replete with smiling people with bongo drums and jangly bracelets.

Max is wondering if he is rapidly approaching another milestone of humiliation.

At least the Censorship Board woman has backed off from the threat of a war of words in the press.

Max secretly regrets not going to war.

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