Emma: Tilly, come on. It's time to go home. Come on.
Tilly: Ow! (Callum shushes)
Dexter: You know, we've never actually met.
Emma: Actually, we have. Several times.
Dexter: Have we?
Emma: You gatecrashed my birthday party, called me Julie, and spilled red wine down my top.
Dexter: Ouch. Well, I'm sorry about that.
Emma: No, not at all. You were delightful.
Dexter: Was I?
Emma: No. No, you weren't.
Dexter: Look, if you're not Julie, then...
Emma: I'm Emma.
Emma: Emma Morley.
Dexter: Emma Morley. Listen, I'll walk you home.
Emma: So this is me. Shh! Welcome home. So debate is fine, but anyone can talk... (Dexter kisses Emma) Just sometimes, action's what's needed.
Dexter: To change the world. I completely agree.
Emma: So what are you gonna be when you're, I don't know, 40?
Dexter: Forty? Can I say famous? Horribly rich?
Emma: Terrible. You're so terribly posh.
Dexter: Where are you going?
Emma: I'm just gonna go brush my teeth. You know, booze and fags and...
Dexter: I don't mind.
Emma: I do. Listen, won't be a minute. No playing with yourself while I'm gone.
Emma: All right, concentrate. Concentrate. Do not cock this up! Oh, you're going?
Dexter: Well, it's getting light out, so I thought I could just...
Emma: You should go if you want to go. It's very poignant.
Dexter: Really I just thought you might wanna get some sleep. I don't have to go.
Emma: No, no, go. I'm not bothered. Sneak off.
Dexter: I wasn't sneaking off.
Emma: Jump out the windowfor all I care. It's five floors up, mind.
Dexter: Look, I'll stay. All right? I'll stay. Come on.
Emma: Sorry, I'm no good at this. It's just whenever I go to bed with someone, I always end up either laughing or weeping, and it could be nice to go for something in between.
Dexter: Look, that's fine. That's fine. Maybe we could just be friends.
Emma: Okay. Friends.
Dexter: Of course, you know it's Saint Swithin's Day today, don't you?
Emma: What is?
Dexter: Well, today. Saint Swithin's Day, the 15th of July.
Emma: How do you know that?
Dexter: Well, he was buried in Winchester Cathedral, which is where I went to school.
Emma: Well, la-dee-da.
Dexter: La-dee-da. You know, there's a poem. "If on Saint Swithin's Day, it doth rain / something, something, something remain."
Emma: Dexter, that's beautiful.
Dexter: Shut up.
Emma: Let's get some sleep. But, Dex.
Emma: If it doesn't rain...
Emma: Do you want to do something? Me and you?