Just Between Ourselves

“A beautiful, funny sad play. . . . It doesn’t seem inappropriate to evoke Chekhov. Like the Master, Ayckbourn sees life as it is and life as it ought to be.”

Dennis spends his spare time messing about in his untidy garage, indifferent to the fact that his wife is being driven to distraction and beyond by his possessive mother. The hidden tension and antagonisms under an apparently normal surface build up to a climax of bizarre violence and madness.