Do you know where you are Nina?
,
EMMA: Who’s Nina?
,
DOCTOR: Do you need to be sick?
It might help.
EMMA: I shouldn’t be here.
DOCTOR: It’s pretty obvious that you should.
You came here for a reason. That was a good impulse.
EMMA looks at her hands. She’s shaking.
The DOCTOR refills EMMA’s water.
Your addiction will fight any progress. It’s a parasite and it will fight for its own survival until you’re dead. But progress is possible. I just need to hear you say that you are willing and motivated to make changes.
EMMA: ‘I cast you out, unclean spirit!’
You know. From The Exorcist.
‘Your mother sucks cocks in hell!’
DOCTOR: I haven’t seen it.
EMMA: Oh. Really?
DOCTOR: Are you willing and / motivated to
EMMA: you’ve never seen The Exorcist?
DOCTOR: I can’t help you unless / you
EMMA: my mum has gone to my flat and she’s boxed up everything. Bottles. Pills. Everything.
DOCTOR: That’s good. That’s a very clear commitment to getting well.
EMMA: There was blood on the bathroom walls. She’ll have seen that. Not my blood. Not all of it anyway. Needles aren’t my thing. Lucky for me.
She’s probably still there now, some marigolds on, scrubbing away.
,
I know that the next time I drink or use
That’ll be it. I’ll be dead.
I’m not sure if I knew that until now, until I just literally just said it. But it’s true.
It’s going to kill me.
She rubs her eyes.
Yes.
I need help.
Please help me.
The DOCTOR speaks into a handset.
DOCTOR: Could Foster come to medical please? Foster to medical please.
The DOCTOR writes on a prescription pad.
Withdrawal from benzodiazepines can be physically and emotionally very tough. You’ll likely hallucinate and your body will be put under a lot of stress.
The DOCTOR places some pills into a small paper cup.
I’m going to give you some medication that will stabilise you and reduce your risk of seizure, and some benzodiazepine at a reduced dosage. Now, I understand that you’ve come here to get off drugs, not to take more so you may be reluctant to
The DOCTOR places the pills on the table. EMMA immediately takes them, throwing them back and swigging down the water.
right. Good. Okay.
FOSTER enters.
FOSTER: Hi, did you
DOCTOR: wait a moment please Foster.
(To EMMA.) We’ll be monitoring you, checking in regularly. You’ll have, in your room, there are cords and buzzers for when you need help.
Don’t be afraid to ask for it.
,
The DOCTOR nods to FOSTER.
FOSTER: Come with me.
Lights fade around them.
EMMA walks to the window and watches as the sun sets. FOSTER turns on a bedside lamp. They are in a bedroom. There is a bathroom and a single bed. FOSTER puts EMMA’s bags on the bed and EMMA takes out some clothes.
You’re lucky. Everyone else is sharing but
you’re an odd number.
EMMA changes out of the medical robe and into comfortable clothes. FOSTER looks away, bashfully.
FOSTER looks out of the window.
Snowing.
If you want to ask me anything let me know. I’m an old hand at this.
Hat? Is it old hat or old hand?
EMMA: It smells like disinfectant.
FOSTER: If madam would prefer a room which smells of vomit and diarrhoea I’m sure she that can / be accommodated.
EMMA: I’m just saying that / it’s
FOSTER: this is a medical building, it’s not / a hotel.
EMMA: This will be fine.
FOSTER: Did the Doctor ask about your suicide attempt?
EMMA: Excuse me?
FOSTER: It’s one of the psych questions. If you’re thinking of or planning to kill yourself. You said you’d tried to
EMMA: right.
FOSTER: This bit can get pretty tough. I don’t want to come in and find you bled out in the bath or something. That sort of clean up. The paper work. It’s just a massive headache for me that I don’t need.
,
Nah, you’ll be fine.
Best thing about detox is, once you’ve been through it once you’d do anything to not have to go through it again. Here.
FOSTER gives EMMA a big book.
Some reading material you may find useful.
EMMA: Not a fucking Bible.
FOSTER: Not exactly.
And you didn’t fill out the form. You were going to give me that contact info.
For your mum.
,
EMMA: Yeah. Right. I will.
Tomorrow.
FOSTER: Make sure you do.
FOSTER turns to leave. EMMA looks at the book.
EMMA: Foster, is it?
He stops.
FOSTER: Yeah.
EMMA: I’m
I’m a little bit
,
FOSTER: scared?
EMMA nods.
,
Do you want to see a picture of my dog?
EMMA doesn’t respond. FOSTER takes a mobile phone from his pocket and loads up a photo.
She’s a mongrel. Mostly English Mastiff. Refuge dog. Used for fighting and left for dead. She, look, her ear isn’t all there and she’s blind in her right eye. The kennel was going to put her down, so I took her home with me. She’s impossible to house train. Destroyed almost everything I own. She’s bitten my right ankle, both my calves, my knee, my elbow, my hand here here and here and my shoulder. Her name’s Eleanor. I love that dog.
,
EMMA: How come you’re allowed a phone?
FOSTER: I work here.
EMMA: Can I borrow it?
,
FOSTER puts the phone away.
,
FOSTER: There’s a buzzer next to the bed and a cord in the bathroom. We’ll check in on you and make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit or hit your head if you start fitting.
Did you take the meds?
She nods.
It’s much better with the meds.
,
Hang in there.
This is the easy part.
,
FOSTER leaves.
EMMA looks around. She itches her arms.
She sits on the bed. She opens the book and starts reading.
She looks up and watches the snow outside.
She watches another EMMA get out of the bed and start to unpack, clutching her stomach as it cramps. EMMA watches as another EMMA gets out of the bed and starts to pace around the room, itching her arms. She sees another EMMA get out of the bed and fill a glass of water from the sink in the bathroom then drink it quickly. She is shaking and smashes the glass in the sink.
A rumble, increasing in volume and pitch.
Another EMMA appears and vomits into the toilet. Another EMMA sits on the floor, holding her legs to her body. She reaches up to the light switch and turns it on and off rhythmically. EMMA walks around the room, looking at the other EMMAs who do not notice her or each other.
The pacing EMMA is sweating and breathing heavily. Another EMMA is shivering with cold.
EMMA’s MUM stands in the darkness, wearing marigolds and holding a large, plastic box full of bottles and drug paraphernalia. She is played by the same actress who plays the DOCTOR.
MUM: Look what you are doing to yourself.
EMMA: Mum.
EMMA approaches her MUM but she’s no longer there.
Time is passing, the sun rising and falling, faster and faster, days turning to night, nights turning to day. The sounds of the outside world increase,
the hush of late night traffic in the darkness, the chaos of the busy city in the daylight. The rumble is getting louder and louder.
FOSTER enters the room, bringing food on a tray.
FOSTER: Good morning. It’s time to meet the Group.
EMMA: I’m not ready.
A NURSE comes in to take the food tray away. Another brings in more food and FOSTER takes it away.
EMMA sits on the bed. Snow falls onto her. The EMMAs continue to move around the room, each one privately struggling with the physical effects of withdrawal.
A THERAPIST enters. The THERAPIST is played by the same actress who plays the DOCTOR and EMMA’s MUM.
THERAPIST: Hello I’m Lydia. I’m one of the therapists here.
EMMA: No, you’re the Doctor, you look like my mum.
One of the EMMAs starts to have a seizure. STAFF rush in to attend to her.
THERAPIST: I understand you don’t feel ready to join the Group.
In the bathroom, a NURSE helps to clean another EMMA after she’s wet herself.
Isolation is the first step towards relapse.
Another EMMA enters the room and drags the desk chair to below the light fitting. She ties a belt around her neck and stands on the chair. A NURSE stops her.
The work is done in Group, by the Group.
EMMA: Mum,
EMMA approaches the THERAPIST but she’s vanished. She watches her UNDERSTUDY, in costume, walk across the room holding a dead seagull, then climb out of the window.
FOSTER enters.
FOSTER: you have to take part in the Group. I’m afraid we’re pretty strict about this. You can’t just pick and choose what to take part in. You have to do everything.
PAUL is in the darkness.
PAUL: They want everything but you’ve got nothing to begin with.
The room is now full of EMMAs, all dressed identically. Both PAUL and FOSTER have disappeared. The DOCTOR is there.
DOCTOR: I’m going to ask you a few questions to get a sense of historical context for your using.
EMMA: It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work like that.
The movements of the EMMAs have become faster and faster, all except EMMA who has slowly moved back to the bed and started to read the book. She rips pages out of it, one after the other. FOSTER appears again.
FOSTER: Please understand that if you refuse to take part in the Group you will be required to leave treatment. We’re going to send you home. I’ll have to call your mother. Alright?
EMMA: No.
EMMA gets into bed. Her eyes are wide open.
No.
It begins to snow across the whole room.
No.
Time continues to pass, night turning to day turning to night so fast it becomes a strobe.
One EMMA is laughing. Another is screaming.
The sound is deafening.
The sounds fade. Birdsong. Traffic.
Morning. EMMA wakes. She looks around. She is alone.
She pulls back the covers. She puts her feet on the floor. There is something fundamentally different about her appearance, as if another actress is now playing her.
She stands. She holds the big book.
FOSTER enters and gives her a cup of coffee. He looks different too. Perhaps he’s grown a beard or maybe he’s just wearing a different bandana. Days have passed. FOSTER opens the curtains. Sunlight fills the room.
EMMA’s head hurts. The light is too bright. The sounds are too loud.
FOSTER: Good morning. Well, afternoon. Technically.
EMMA: What day is it?
FOSTER: How are you feeling?
EMMA: Like the worst is over.
FOSTER laughs. He tidies the room with the brisk confidence of someone who does this a lot.
FOSTER: Well, what will it be? Will you speak to the therapist and join the Group or am I going to have Security throw you out into the street?
EMMA has taken out some make-up and is applying some to her face.
What are you doing?
EMMA: Nothing, I’m
getting ready.
FOSTER: You don’t have to do that here. I mean, you can, but
EMMA is self-conscious. She continues to apply the make-up. three things:
One: Over the next few days you’re going to cry at things you wouldn’t ordinarily cry at and it won’t be easy to stop. This is normal.
Two: From this moment on, you’re going to drink more coffee than you should. You won’t even notice you’re doing it. You’ll just always have a cup in your hand. You have to watch that because it messes with sleep and you’re going to need to sleep more than before.
Three:
FOSTER turns his attention to EMMA.
You have to be completely truthful or the process won’t work. There’s no judgement in here. Every one of us is here for the same reason and we’re all very good at lying. We’re also good at spotting liars.
EMMA: This is great coffee.
FOSTER: Prime example. It’s terrible coffee.
,
Are you ready to begin?
EMMA: No.
DOCTOR: Let’s start with your name shall we?
EMMA is in the DOCTOR’s consultation room.
Your real name.
,
EMMA looks at FOSTER.
EMMA: Emma.
DOCTOR: Emma. Good.
How are you feeling?
EMMA: Like my insides have been scrubbed with bleach.
DOCTOR: Right.
Vivid.
Emma, before you join the Group I need to get some historical context for your using.
EMMA: That A led to B and therefore C.
DOCTOR: Exactly.
EMMA: Beginning, middle, end.
DOCTOR: Isn’t that how life works?
EMMA: No.
DOCTOR: How does life work?
,
EMMA: You have a lot of certificates. It’s impressive. I’ve not got that.
DOCTOR: You didn’t go to university?
EMMA: I went to loads. Just not for long. Never got that scroll.
DOCTOR: I can’t give you a letter for work Emma. Not until you’ve completed the programme.
EMMA: The twenty-eight days.
DOCTOR: At least.
EMMA: Thing is, I came here to get everything out of my system and now I have, nearly, and I really feel like I’m ready to get back out into / the real world.
DOCTOR: You’ve addressed the chemical hooks but not the central cause of your addiction.
EMMA: Which is
DOCTOR: trauma.
,
You’ve done the first stage, you / may as well
EMMA: I can leave when I want, right?
DOCTOR: Absolutely, / but
EMMA: great, thanks. This has been fun. I’ve changed. I’ll never use again, Brownie’s honour. Bye.
FOSTER: Emma you really / should
DOCTOR: you can leave us now thanks Foster.
,
FOSTER leaves.
Sit down.
EMMA: You even sound like my mother.
EMMA drops the heavy book onto the desk.
I don’t know if that’s your copy or Foster’s but I’ve made some corrections.
DOCTOR: Corrections?
The DOCTOR opens the book. It is full of scribbled notes, pages turned-down and torn out, asterisks in the margins etc.
EMMA: Amendments. Notes and things. Have you actually read this thing?
DOCTOR: Emma, the programme works for a lot of / people.
EMMA: Except you don’t know that. Nobody does. It’s all anonymous, there’s nothing evidence-based it’s just / anecdotal, so
DOCTOR: Emma, you asked for my / help.
EMMA: If it’s vital to my recovery that I come to believe in a power / greater than me
DOCTOR: Emma, if you let me
EMMA: to turn my will and my life over to God and have Him remove my defects of character,
DOCTOR: will you let me
just
EMMA: if this all depends on me having a spiritual awakening then we might all just be wasting our time.
DOCTOR: We’re not.
EMMA: I think we might be.
DOCTOR: You’re worried about the steps.
EMMA: I’m worried that a trained medical professional with this many certificates can also wear a crucifix.
DOCTOR: I don’t believe the scientific method disproves the / existence of
EMMA: such a boring conversation of course it does of course it fucking does I really need you to be cleverer than this. I really need you to at least match me intellectually because otherwise I’m going to leave and if I leave I don’t know if
,
I’m not powerless. I’m not helpless. I don’t believe addiction is a disease and I’m scared and angered by the suggestion that from now on it’s either eternal abstinence or binge to death. I can’t surrender to a higher power because there isn’t one. There just isn’t. And you, as someone who lives in the twenty-first century should know that.
DOCTOR: Emma,
EMMA: I wake up in wet sheets. In places I don’t recognise. With bruises I can’t account for. Men I don’t know. I’ve stolen from people. I’ve slept on the streets. I’m in trouble. I know that. But this book, this process can’t help me. You can’t help me.
DOCTOR: I see a lot of clever people in here. People who drink and use because they just can’t stop their big brains from thinking thinking thinking. Does that sound / familiar?
EMMA: You want me to conceptualise a universe in which I am the sole agent of my destiny and at the same time acknowledge my absolute powerlessness. It’s a fatal contradiction and I won’t start building foundations on a flawed premise.
DOCTOR: That’s not a fair / characterisation of
EMMA: there is no meaning to anything. There are no beginnings, middles and ends. No final authorities. No fate or pre-determination or grand plan. History has ended. There are no new ideas or experiences. No free will. Identity is a construct and the brain is incapable of objectively introspecting itself.
DOCTOR: Emma,
EMMA: I am not the product of the decisions I’ve made or the things that have happened to me. I will not be reduced to that.
DOCTOR: I’m not / suggesting
EMMA: my brother had a brain haemorrhage while reading Pinocchio to a group of five year olds. Mark. He was two years younger than me and never touched drugs or alcohol. He ran fucking marathons. For charity. I should have died a thousand times but it was him who
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