Claire: Um, no you don’t.
She’s glad she’s locked everything up already because her hands are now shaking so badly she wouldn’t be able to hold the keys. Roy is looking at her with an amused expression, his arms folded.
Roy: When my wife and I first met you and you told us you worked here, I wondered why. I mean, you’re obviously bright, and educated, and well-spoken. I thought you must have just been an under-achiever. Then after I caught you fucking my wife, I thought I’d better do some more research into this person called Claire Espinoza. Just in case you ever turned out to be serious competition. I always like to keep tabs on my competitors in my professional life, so it makes sense that I’d do the same in my personal life, right?
Claire dislikes many things about Roy, but the way he says ‘my wife’ is particularly offensive. It seems interchangeable with 'my car’ or 'my house’ or 'my yacht’.
Roy: So, I’m guessing that the proprietors of the QwikMart don’t bother doing background checks on their staff? They were probably deliriously happy to get someone of your caliber applying for their crappy minimum-wage job. You certainly don’t look like a stereotypical sex offender-
Claire curls her lip.
Claire: I am not a sex offender, and you know it.
Roy: In the eyes of the law you are. A registered sex offender, no less! Tsk, tsk, Claire.
Claire: We were both seventeen, for God’s sake. Anyway, it’s unjust and ridiculous that the age of consent for the majority of the population is 16, but 18 for same-sex relationships. It’s blatant discrimination. If you think you can try and blackmail me, you’re wasting your time. I don’t think Sonia would care that an old girlfriend’s bitch of a mother tried to get me arrested for seducing her daughter six whole years ago.
Roy: Claire, please. I’m not trying to blackmail you. What kind of a person do you think I am?
Claire: I’m not going to answer that. And I’m not interested in listening to anything you have to say either.
She screws her face up in contempt and turns to walk away, but Roy walks swiftly in front of her.
Roy: If you really love Sonia you’ll listen to what I’ve got to say. Because it will totally destroy her not to have custody of her own baby. And it will be all your fault.
Claire stares at his smug, self-satisfied, smirking, hateful face. Her knee physically itches to make contact with his groin.
Roy: Good. Now I have your full attention, let’s consider a few things. As we’ve already discussed, you’re a registered sex offender. And poor Sonia was diagnosed with clinical depression when she was at college, and on top of that she has a history of violent behaviour. It’s true! Did you know she punched me in the face and gave me a black eye earlier this year? I have witnesses to prove it. Compared to you two psychos, I’m a model citizen.
Claire: Sonia told me she’s got proof you’ve been to strip clubs. She’s got credit card receipts-
Roy: If anything, that just proves I’m a normal, red-blooded male with normal needs. Emphasis on the normal. Unlike you two freaks. There is no judge on the planet who wouldn’t award me full custody of our child. By the time my lawyers have finished with you you’ll be lucky not to be in jail, and Sonia will be lucky not to be in an institution. And another thing you can count on is that once I’ve got custody I’ll do everything in my power to make sure Sonia never sees the baby again. Not while she’s with you, anyway. So, Claire. Returning to my original question. If you really love Sonia, do you think you could put her through all that? I mean, wouldn’t you have to be some sort of heartless monster? To be responsible for a baby being taken away from its own mother? Knowing the heartache the poor mother went through to get pregnant? Jesus Christ. How could you do that, Claire?