SWEETS. Big heart Sid. Course it hurts him.
POTTS. Mickey first says it to him, ‘Sorry Baby but your dad’s been done.’ What does he do? He gives it the Buick. Some sketch about a car in the street. (What he’s already told you and me the day before, the same fucking words.) Now chop my old man up see if I stand around swapping car models.
SWEETS. Yeah but there’s dads and dads. You’re thinking of a dad. Like in a book. Fucking figure of something.
POTTS. Yes but –
SWEETS. Not some bloke waits for you come home home from school stuffs his hands down your pants. Not one has you biting the sheets and then don’t tell your mum.
POTTS. Don’t get me wrong. I like him. I’m not saying I’d run back in and save him the building catches fire but he’s a mate. He’s one of my best mates isn’t he? But he’s a cunt. Oh. He’s had it tough. Oh. His dad did the funny on him. Well that’s all the past isn’t it. Fucker’s dead. He ought to draw a line now. Start afresh. But he won’t. I know he won’t. The trouble with his type is they think the world owes them a big kiss and a trip down the zoo. (Pause.) Have you got any pills?
SWEETS. I’ve run out.
POTTS. Thank Christ for that.
Enter SKINNY.
SKINNY. Relax. Panic over. You sweat for nothing and suddenly it’s okay. Sweets you are a genius. This is your town. (Removes a Derringer purse-pistol.) Can you see that? Can you just make that out?
SWEETS. Christ.
SKINNY. A Derringer.
POTTS. Marvellous…
SKINNY. An antique…
POTTS. Sweets…
SKINNY. A collector’s item. A curiosity.
SWEETS. Where d’you get that?
SKINNY. They crash in here it turns sour I’ll gun them all down.
POTTS. Brilliant.
SKINNY. Mow ’em all down go up the Nellie Dean.
POTTS. Marvellous.
SKINNY. Five quid for the week off Charlie Dodds. Our private angel over Old Compton Street.
POTTS. Fuck. It’s a sign.
SKINNY. It is. It’s a sign. It says ‘We are the men with the small gun’.
SWEETS. Did you say you was with me?
SKINNY. Yeah. Yeah. Yes. Yeah. ‘Sweets Who?’
Beat.
SWEETS. Cunt.
POTTS. That’s a big hole in the plan then.
SWEETS. My brother had two Webleys off him last March.
SKINNY. Bow and arrow we’ve got the set.
SWEETS. Colin did. Pair a Webleys.
SKINNY. Have you bolted the back?
POTTS. What’s the point? A kid could break in. Hang on. How did you get in?
SKINNY. Mickey gave me the keys.
POTTS. When?
SKINNY. Last night. When he said I was in charge. I’m going to go and check the back. Come back find you all dead.
Exit SKINNY. Pause.
POTTS. Did you know that?
SWEETS. I had no idea.
Pause.
POTTS. Do you believe him?
SWEETS. He’s got the key.
Pause.
POTTS. This, Sweets, is very bad for us.
SWEETS. What the fuck is going on?
POTTS. He’s got the… Mickey gave him the key.
SWEETS. Big mistake. Mickey’s made a big mistake there.
POTTS. I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed in Mickey.
SWEETS. It explains a lot. The whole… the –
POTTS. Minute we turn our backs – ‘Mickey can I help you with this.’ ‘Mickey let me shake the drips off.’ Before, right, before it’s this is wrong with the club, that’s wrong with the club, and and and as soon as soon as there’s aggro he runs under the fucking shawl.
SWEETS. Don’t waste any time do you Missy…
POTTS. You watch, they’ll share a fucking mattress tonight. And with the… with the Charlie Dodds. Who suggested that eh? Who suggested it?
SWEETS. Me.
Beat.
POTTS. Exactly. And who gets packed off. Who gets trusted? You and me? Now… Now he’ll walk in here and he’ll want us all to kneel down kiss his crack.
SWEETS. With all the ordering us about with the mattresses. Like it’s a Scout camp…
POTTS. Getting into it. This isn’t a fuckin’ fresh-air fortnight. This is real.
SWEETS. Thinking he’s in the trenches –
POTTS. Giving it the Uncle Tommy –
SWEETS. The fucking Uncle Tommy –
POTTS. We’re gonna get the Uncle Tommy. We’re gonna get the Uncle Tommy. (Pause.) Fucking mess we’re in.
Re-enter SKINNY.
SKINNY. Where’s Mickey?
POTTS. See?
SKINNY. Where is he. (What?)
POTTS. Never you mind love.
SKINNY. What?
SWEETS. He’s upstairs.
POTTS. He’s got his head cold.
SWEETS. He’s got his head cold doesn’t want bothering.
What’s it like out there?
SKINNY. Beautiful. Sunny. There’s a few kids out there. Stupid bastards are queueing up.
SWEETS. Yeah. Tell ’em the show’s round Mr Ross’s tonight.
SKINNY (re: the bins). This him then?
POTTS. Yeah. Yeah that’s him.
SKINNY. Fucking hell. (Pause.) You had a look?
POTTS. You haven’t got the stomach.
SKINNY. A quid.
POTTS. Done.
SKINNY. Here. Half a crown and a Bazooka Joe.
POTTS. Done.
They shake. SKINNY readies himself. He can’t do it.
Shitter.
SKINNY. It’s harder than you think. (Gives POTTS half a crown and the Bazooka Joe.) I don’t fucking like this.
POTTS. Don’t you feel bad about it? What with it all happening on your first night in charge. Not a pretty start, is it?
SKINNY. Fuck off.
POTTS. Saps your confidence though I bet. As a leader.
SKINNY. I’m not listening to you.
Pause.
SWEETS. Poor man. One minute he’s up on the stage. Doing all the introducing. In his blue suit. His best blue suit. His little joke at the start.
SKINNY. We should have stuck to the machines.
POTTS. Here we go. What was that Skipper?
SKINNY. What? Ezra never saw straight again the day the kid walked in here. Buying him silver suits. Wearing tight trousers himself. I mean an old man wearing tight trousers. It’s asking for trouble.
SWEETS. That’s true.
SKINNY. Eh? Thinking I am in love all’s well in the world. Thinks if he combs his hair puts on tight trousers it’s All Hail the Prince of Clothes.
POTTS. You’re all heart Skin.
SKINNY. Just because some old man wants to fuck children for a hobby don’t mean we all have to die in his good name.
SWEETS. He was always level to us weren’t he Sid.
POTTS. Treated me fair. Played the gent.
SWEETS. Poor man. I’ll miss him. (Pause.) All right. Here’s a good bet. Which half’s his legs and which half’s his head?
POTTS. Ten bob says left one’s his head.
SWEETS. I reckon left.
SKINNY. Yeah you’ve picked ’em up.
POTTS. Yeah but we haven’t looked.
SKINNY. Null bet. Null bet.
POTTS. Jeeez. Nice to be trusted.
SWEETS. You should be a bit more trusting.
SKINNY. I watch my back all right.
SWEETS. You should be a bit more trusting my son.
SKINNY. I watch my back all right.
Pause.
POTTS. You get any sandwiches?
SKINNY. Mickey gave me a fiver. I spent it on a small gun.
SWEETS. Eat the cake.
POTTS. I’ve eaten the cake.
SWEETS. Eat the cake. It’s got… It’s the same as bread.
POTTS. I eat any more of the cake I’m going to die. I’m going to turn blue die of cake poisoning.
&n
bsp; SWEETS. It’s the same as bread.
POTTS. The cherries. They’re wax. They taste like wax.
SKINNY. Chuck a bit over then. (Blue icing…)
POTTS (to SWEETS). Look at this…
SKINNY. What.
POTTS. Am I the cake-fetcher?
SKINNY. I’m asking you – Just gimme a piece.
POTTS. Am I your cake-fetcher?
SKINNY. No. No. You’re not. Absolutely. You jumpy cunt. I thought we were mates.
POTTS. Would you get me a piece of cake?
SKINNY. Mates. Friendship. You know?
POTTS. Would you fetch me cake?
SKINNY. I thought we were mates.
POTTS. We’re business friends.
SWEETS. I’ll get you some. You want some of the cake?
SKINNY. Grow up.
SWEETS. I’m sorry?
SKINNY. No.
SWEETS. What did you say?
POTTS. He said ‘Grow up’.
SKINNY. I don’t want to play.
POTTS. He said ‘Grow up’.
SKINNY. I don’t want to play that’s all.
POTTS (to SWEETS). You see?
SKINNY. What?
SWEETS. Fucking Victor Mature.
POTTS. Fucking coming-of-age party.
SKINNY. You two live in a dreamworld.
POTTS. Whereas you have a long flowing beard.
SKINNY. A world of your own.
POTTS. You have the long whiskers of wisdom.
SKINNY. You know nothing about the real world. My Uncle Tommy was in the RAF, yeah, and when they were pinned down, and some, say someone said, ‘Here Tom, Tommy, fetch me a bit of cake or a cuppa tea’ you did it because of team spirit.
POTTS (to SWEETS). With the Uncle Tommy…
SWEETS (to POTTS). Do you hear that?
POTTS (to SWEETS). What did I say…?
SKINNY. What?
POTTS (to SWEETS). Fuckin’ Uncle Tommy who won the war on his own.
SKINNY. It’s true… they helped each other out. Someone says ‘Can I have a cup of tea’ –
POTTS. Uncle Tommy and his Halifax bomber. Uncle Tommy who shot down Hitler. Uncle Tommy who pinned down the Bosch single-handed at the Somme.
SKINNY. He fought in both World Wars.
POTTS. Here we go. And they’re off.
SKINNY. What? Fuck off. He fought in both World Wars. He said he was older than he was in the First and younger than he was in the Second.
SWEETS. And he had four brothers and they all died in action at the Somme.
POTTS. I bet they did it on purpose. I bet they did it on purpose to get away from Uncle Tommy.
SKINNY. I’m not listening to you. I asked you for a piece of cake. You just have no understanding of history. Those people died for you.
Pause.
SWEETS. There’s toffee apples.
POTTS. I know there’s toffee apples. Stop fucking toffeeappling me.
SWEETS. They’re good.
POTTS. Fucking mess we’re in.
Pause.
SWEETS. Anyway, why’s he called your Uncle Tommy when he’s shacked up with your mum?
SKINNY. Fuck off. I’m not listening.
SWEETS. Eh? Sid. Uncle.
POTTS. Fucking friendly uncle.
SKINNY. I’m not listening.
Pause.
POTTS. Fucking mess we’re in.
Enter MICKEY from the upstairs.
MICKEY. What did Charlie say?
SKINNY. Mickey. I’m sorry. He only had this.
POTTS. Might as well give Sam Ross a Chinese burn as pop him with that. Waste of Sam’s time.
SWEETS. He’s got more. I know he’s got more.
POTTS. Mickey, sorry but you sent the wrong bloke.
SKINNY. He doesn’t even know you.
POTTS. That’s nice Skin. Mickey gives you a job, you walk around in the sunshine, fuck it up, come back point the stinky finger at Sweets.
SWEETS. It’s got a lovely bone handle.
MICKEY. Give it here. (Takes the gun.) All right. Don’t worry. We’ve still got the cutlass.
SWEETS. Where is it?
MICKEY. It’s up there.
SWEETS. Shouldn’t we have it down here? Handy.
MICKEY. Leave it. Have you eaten?
POTTS. Mickey, it’s about the cake. I can’t actually eat any more or I’m going to sick up.
SWEETS. It’s the same as bread.
POTTS. We need some supplies. You’re in charge. What next?
SKINNY. Mickey, can I have a word?
MICKEY. What about? (Eat the cake.)
POTTS. Sorry. It makes me gag.
SWEETS. There’s toffee apples.
SKINNY. Mickey –
POTTS. Fucking leave it with the toffee apples.
MICKEY. For tonight it’s the cake. We’ll get something else in the morning.
SKINNY. Mickey.
SWEETS. Mickey, what do you suppose he’s doing right now?
MICKEY. Who?
SWEETS. Silver Johnny.
MICKEY. I don’t know. He’s with Sam Ross.
POTTS. He’s on a plane to Aca-fucking-pulco with Sam Ross. He’s sitting in a bubble bath. I know he is. Right now up to his scrawny neck. Eating a goose off a floating platter.
MICKEY. He’s got a big fat smile across his face I can tell you that much.
SKINNY. Mickey.
SWEETS. Do you know what I think? I think he’s had all his teeth covered in silver, and he’s got silver-plated hair and nails, silver feet and silver pubes and he’s singing at the Washington Bowl with loads of famous people watching.
Pause.
SKINNY. Mickey?
MICKEY. What?
SKINNY. Can I have a quick word? It’s private.
MICKEY. What is?
SKINNY. The quick word. Can we go up there?
MICKEY. Okay. Go up.
SKINNY goes up the stairs.
Tell me when he wakes up.
Exit MICKEY up the stairs.
POTTS. Stick a pin in me.
SWEETS. If I hadn’t seen it…
POTTS. Did I fall asleep miss the wedding?
SWEETS. Bad for morale that. Very bad.
POTTS. You know he can stand in the corner down here clicking his fingers being big with the twelve-year-olds waving like he don’t drive the van. He drives the van and I say he should drive the van.
SWEETS. Standing at the bar like he don’t drive the van.
POTTS. In the corner with the twelve-year-olds…
SWEETS. And… and… and… With the fuckin’ –
POTTS. The fucking American.
SWEETS. With the American accent.
POTTS. Honestly. It’s sad.
SWEETS. To girls. In this stupid American accent.
POTTS. He sounds Welsh.
SWEETS. Getting snug.
POTTS. Cuddling up to Mickey… this is wrong that’s wrong. With his fucking bunch of keys.
SWEETS.…Fucking bad breath –
POTTS. Fucking bad-breath van-boy. Fucking bad-breath vanboy with chat.
BABY suddenly sits up. He sits there, not moving.
Here we go.
SWEETS. Hello Colonel. How’s that?
POTTS. Bit more like it eh?
SWEETS. Now that feels a lot better don’t it.
POTTS. Sweets, get Baby a glass of water.
SWEETS. How you feeling Baby-o. Ready for the party?
Pause. BABY sits there.
BABY. What time is it?
POTTS. What? It’s the evening.
SWEETS. July. Lovely long evening.
POTTS. Still hot. Long shadows down Dean Street I bet.
SWEETS. Lovely out. Must be.
POTTS. Boiling hot. Skin said.
Pause.
BABY. I miss anything?
POTTS. Yeah. There was a wedding.
SWEETS. Yeah. Mickey and Skinny got hitched.
POTTS. Whirlwind romance. Very touching.
BABY. Where is he?
SWEETS. Mickey? He’s up there mate.
POTTS. Up there with the lucky lady.
SWEETS. He’s up there bumming him off right now.
POTTS. Yeah. He’s bumming off his bad-breath van-boy bride. So. Mickey don’t love us any more. That’s what’s happened. That’s all you missed.
Pause.
BABY. You know it is a hot evening. I can smell it on the breeze. Like when you’re a kid and you wake up and it’s summer.
SWEETS. Typical eh? Rains all July, then the day they chop your boss up you go into hiding, wouldn’t you know, a scorcher.
POTTS. Shut it Sweets.
SWEETS. Absolutely. Sorry Babes.
POTTS. It’s the cake. He’s eaten nothing but cake for ten hours.
SWEETS. It’s the blue icing.
POTTS. Relax.
Pause.
BABY. So who wants to go up the pictures?
POTTS. That’d be the one wouldn’t it. Normal Sunday have a cold lemon go up the Curzon.
SWEETS. Fuck about after up St James.
POTTS. Maybe head down Monkeytown. Hang out.
SWEETS. Town’s your oyster.
BABY. What about it? Quick flick. Eh? Quick Bob Mitchum.
POTTS. Yeah. Sorry Babes. Can’t.
SWEETS. Love to Babes. Not allowed.
BABY. Come on. Who wants to go and see a Wild West?
POTTS. I personally would love to. But Mickey’s decided it. We’re all stopped here.
BABY. Who says?
POTTS. Mickey says.
BABY. Mickey says.
Pause.
There’s probably kids outside.
SWEETS. Skin said there’s a few.
BABY. Shall we get them in. Open the bar?
SWEETS. We can’t mate. Love to. Can’t.
BABY. Oh. (Pause.) Sidney, quick film?
POTTS. All right Baby. Stop pulling my cock.
BABY. What?
POTTS. You know we ain’t going out, having a party, doing a conga, nothing. We’re staying here. Why? Because of what’s in those bins. Blunt as it is, I’ve had nothing but sorrow and birthday cake since sun-up, so stop the Music Hall. All right love?
SWEETS. Relax Sid.
POTTS. I am relaxed. I’m talking.
BABY. This him?
He lifts the lid off one. He looks. He puts it down. He lifts the lid off the other. He looks, then puts it down.
Sweets?
SWEETS. Yes Babes?
BABY. I think I’ll have that glass of water now please.
SWEETS. I’ll just get you one.
Exit SWEETS.
POTTS. Fucking weekend. You feeling all right?
BABY. Tell the truth I’m a bit tired.
Mojo Page 5