Wayne had been sorting out screws and bolts and Allen wrenches while Eloise was talking, just taking in her exuberance about the match. He hadn't been paying much attention to the tournament, but he reckoned it must be far enough along that Scotland were doing extraordinarily well. He was about to turn and congratulate her on the tickets when she dropped the plank. He'd had his back turned again, and again jumped and yelped, and dropped to the floor himself, turning to look at her.
"Bloody hell, Belle," he said with a laugh. "I mean, that's brilliant that you can go; it's going to be amazing." He looked down at the dropped piece of fiberboard, and back at Eloise. "You all right?"