EMMA: Like a tradeshow thing. Not a play / or a
MARK: right.
EMMA: Advertising, basically. A hall full of little stages. Repeating a terrible monologue to a handful of bored businessmen.
She delivers a bit of the speech, mockingly.
We stand resolutely in the present,
arms wide,
looking towards the future!
MARK laughs with her.
I am now!
You are now!
We are now!
What a thing it is to be alive!
What
She watches as, unseen by MARK, an identically-dressed EMMA enters slowly, places a chair down and sits.
MARK: Are you okay?
EMMA tries to ignore the EMMA.
EMMA: This horrible, generic speech that had nothing to do with anything. I had to stand in a spotlight and make it sound meaningful.
Another EMMA enters the room, places a chair down and sits. There is an ominous rumble, gradually increasing in volume and pitch.
I got a hundred pounds for the day and thought I’d hit the big time. Mark, my brother, helped me learn my lines.
Another EMMA. EMMA is trying to concentrate. She grips the edge of the bed.
MARK: Sarah,
EMMA: in a world that sets limits, that says you shouldn’t try, that says you’ll fail…in a world that says ‘no’, ‘Quixotic’ says ‘yes’.
Another EMMA. Gradually, a circle of chairs is being formed.
MARK: Quixotic?
EMMA: Like Don Quixote.
MARK: What, roadrunner?
EMMA: That’s Wile E Coyote.
MARK: That’s the company name?
EMMA: It means romantic, chivalrous. Visionary. Are all your references cartoons? Seriously, read a book.
Another EMMA.
At ‘Quixotic’ we don’t believe in boundaries or limitations.
We believe in the pioneer.
We believe in
in the
The room continues to fill with EMMAs.
MARK: Sarah,
EMMA: sometimes, when you audition, they ask for a classical or a modern speech. And I’d use it as my modern.
EMMA winces. Simultaneously, all the EMMAs stop moving and wince in pain.
My thinking was that if I could make this bullshit marketing speak work, if I can make this list of abstract nouns sound sincere then they’d see how good an actress I am.
EMMA is struggling through, clearly in pain. She is surrounded by a circle of EMMAs.
MARK: Sarah, you don’t / owe me
EMMA: Mark learned it before I did. I had to repeat and repeat and repeat. He’d quote it to me. I have a text from him on my phone saying: what a thing it is to be alive. What a thing it is to swim in the sea. To look up at the
She winces again. All the EMMAs wince.
and it’s gone. He’s gone. I can’t get remember it. I can’t get through it on my own. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
The low, rumbling sound is starting to shake the walls.
MARK: Sarah,
did you take your medication?
One by one, the EMMAs begin to stand.
Sarah can you hear me?
The lights are changing. MARK’s voice sounds increasingly like it’s under water.
Sarah?
Sarah?
EMMA stands and watches MARK rush to the bed where she just was.
Look at me.
Sarah?
He leaves the room.
EMMA walks around, looking at the other EMMAs. She is no longer in the bedroom. The light is eerie, unreal. The sound has ceased. Her movements around the room echo as if in a dream.
She sees that there is an unoccupied chair. She crosses the room and stands in front of it. The other EMMAs sit.
,
A moment. Then the EMMAs leave.
The sun rises. EMMA looks around. She’s in the GROUP Therapy room before anyone else. MARK enters.
MARK: You’re early.
EMMA: I’d like to practise.
The GROUP enter the room and take their seats. EMMA speaks to the THERAPIST.
I’d like to practise.
THERAPIST: Go ahead Sarah.
EMMA stands in the centre, looking around the room at the members of the GROUP.
EMMA: You’re my father.
She takes PAUL’s hands, stands him and leads him across the room.
You’re hovering in the doorway. Which is sort of
here.
She places him.
THERAPIST: Where are we?
EMMA: This is my old bedroom at my parent’s house. It’s like a museum to my childhood self. The bed is here.
She pulls some chairs in a line to make the bed.
The door is there. There’s all this stuff piled up everywhere because they use it for storage now. Change isn’t really possible in families. That’s what this room makes me feel. History.
She looks at MARK.
You’re my brother.
THERAPIST: Sarah, we’re practising for the future, not re-enacting
EMMA: you’re my brother. You’re Mark. You died almost two years ago. Your bedroom is next to this one. When we were kids you used to hear me crying sometimes and you’d come in and we’d sit on the bed in silence and you’d hold my hand until I stopped and then you’d go back to your room and I’ll always love you for that even though you’re gone, even when I’m gone those moments were, are, will be meaningful.
All I need you to do is sit with me and hold my hand without speaking okay?
MARK nods and takes her hand.
,
She looks at the THERAPIST.
You’re my mother.
THERAPIST: I don’t participate in / the
EMMA: you won’t have to do much. Trust me.
THERAPIST: Sarah, really, it doesn’t
The GROUP encourage her, cheerfully.
okay fine but
EMMA: you’re standing over there.
EMMA points and the THERAPIST moves to the spot.
I’ve called you in. You hate being in here. You want to be watching your programmes.
PAUL: What am I like?
EMMA: You’re uncomfortable being in here. You hate any kind of confrontation or emotional display. You feel you never really got to know me because I had different interests to you and that made no sense. You’re insecure about your intellect because you know that your wife and daughter are cleverer than you are. You loved Mark because you understood him. You’ve been unable to help me, and you’re angry that what you hoped my life would be like is not at all what it has been. You’ve been downstairs using the kitchen table for your genealogy charts. You’ve been doing this for at least ten years. We’ve not eaten at that table for a decade. You don’t want to talk about my problems and you don’t want to talk about Mark’s death.
She looks at the THERAPIST.
Mum, you’re frustrated with me. You had hardship in your life and you never abused drugs and alcohol. You can drink wine and re-cork the bottle for another day. You don’t know why I can’t do the same. Your father died when you were five, your mother when you were eleven. You were moved around a lot and you triumphed in spite of everything. You have a doctorate. Lots of framed qualifications. You created an international fund to provide support for children in times of crisis. You used to play piano but you haven’t for years. You think acting is a fun hobby and isn’t worthy of your child. You’ve never approved of a single boyfriend or career choice and you’ve never said anything to stop me.
I’ve just got home.
She and MARK sit on the ‘bed’.
,
Okay. Yeah, okay.
,
THERAPIST: Three,
two,
one,
,
EMMA: mum, dad, this shouldn’t take long. I want to talk you through what has been happening with me, to let you know where I’m at now and to apologise for my behaviour.
But I don’t want to do it in that order. I want to apologise first.
She looks at the THERAPIST to see if that’s okay. The THERAPIST nods.
I’ve been a pretty terrible daughter over the years.
I’ve been unhappy and self-destructive. I’ve self-medicated with drugs and alcohol which has made me more insular and self-absorbed. I’ve made some terrible decisions and I’ve taken you for granted. I’ve broken promises. Many many times. I’ve stolen from you. I’ve said some
I’ve said things that I regret and that I wish I could take back. Someone would’ve interrupted me by now.
THERAPIST: To say what?
EMMA: To disagree with me. To get defensive or
THERAPIST: don’t pre-empt. You may be surprised how people react when you give them absolute honesty. They may welcome it.
EMMA: I’d be really fucking surprised.
,
I wasn’t there for either of you when Mark
when Mark died. I disappeared and it must have put even more stress on you and that was selfish and unthinking. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m acknowledging that I was wrong and that I wish I could take it back. I miss him.
She’s finding this very difficult, but cathartic.
I miss him.
I know you do too.
,
I know that over the years I’ve scared you. Disappointed you.
Wow this is really hard.
PAUL wants to go to her but doesn’t. MARK takes EMMA’s hand in both of his and rests his forehead on her shoulder.
,
I want you to know that I’ve worked really hard at getting better. And I’m starting to find peace. And it’s an on-going process. Because I’ve scared myself. I’ve disappointed myself. And the hardest part is taking myself seriously enough to do it. Feeling that my happiness is worth fighting for. My life. And I’m doing it for you two as much as anything. And for Mark.
And it should have been me. Not him. I know that. Everyone’s been waiting for it. It’s not fair. And I can’t forgive myself / for it.
PAUL: It’s not your fault.
EMMA: I’m not
PAUL: Mark’s death was not your fault.
EMMA: It’s not fair.
PAUL: We love you. We always love you. We’ll do anything you need.
,
EMMA is trying not to cry.
EMMA: Thank you.
He’d never say that.
But thank you.
PAUL: It’s alright darling.
EMMA: He wouldn’t say that either.
PAUL: Oh.
EMMA: He’d say ‘uh huh. Well’.
Like that.
,
PAUL: Uh huh.
Well.
,
THERAPIST: And what would your mother say?
,
EMMA: Who the fuck knows?
,
THERAPIST: How do you feel?
,
EMMA looks at the THERAPIST.
EMMA: Who are you being?
,
THERAPIST: Me.
,
EMMA: I feel like
,
I feel like I spent my life surrounded by people trying to make me miserable. And I’m slowly realising that every last one of them was probably just trying to help me. They probably just
loved me.
,
THERAPIST: You’re doing great Sarah.
,
EMMA looks up at the THERAPIST.
EMMA: Thank you.
The GROUP take their chairs away.
The room.
MARK is there.
At ‘Quixotic’ we don’t believe in boundaries or limitations.
MARK knows it word-for-word and says it along with her.
EMMA/MARK: We believe in the pioneer.
We believe in the visionary.
However impulsive or impractical.
We say ‘yes’.
MARK: We say that life is for the living.
We look at the world with love.
,
EMMA: It’s so totally meaningless isn’t it?
MARK: Not to me. I’m a sucker for a vague slogan.
Adverts. Politicians. AA.
Wage a war on an abstract noun, I’m right behind you.
And not to be all Dalai Lama or John
Lennon about it but that’s what it’s all about.
Love. It sounds dumb,
EMMA: yep.
MARK: But it’s true. You said it yourself. The hardest thing is to love yourself. To be kind to yourself. After everything.
,
EMMA: Quixotic. They’re probably the only people who’ll hire me now. Do you have any cigarettes?
MARK: You can’t smoke in here.
EMMA laughs.
EMMA: Right.
Wait, are you serious?
MARK: It’s a medical building so
EMMA: right, of course, yeah.
MARK: You had it yet?
EMMA: What?
MARK: Your spiritual epiphany.
You can’t leave without having your spiritual epiphany. It’s, like, in the rules.
EMMA: I don’t think that’ll happen for me.
MARK: Don’t be so sure. If God’s going to appear anywhere it’ll be here. He may be coming for someone else, but I’ll get in on it. One day I’ll be mopping up after a messy stomach pump and there he’ll be. Smiling down. And he’ll say: ‘well done, that’s it. Go out into the world and don’t harm yourself or others. Go visit Sarah. She’s doing a play above a pub.’
EMMA: God watches my plays?
MARK: He prefers the more fringy stuff.
EMMA: I thought you were an Atheist.
MARK: I’m open to possibilities. I’d welcome fucking Poseidon if that’s who shows up.
They smile.
,
EMMA: I already have my higher power. And she very much exists.
MARK: Don’t bank your recovery on other people.
EMMA: Last time I spoke to her she was clearing out my flat. Putting everything bad into a big plastic box. All the bottles and bags of powder. Pots of pills. My stash of weed. All piled in this box.
MARK: Sounds like a great box.
EMMA: I can’t stop thinking about it.
,
MARK: I’ve got nobody to do that for me.
It’s wonderful.
EMMA: She’d be the one getting the phone call. The police at the door. 3 a.m.
MARK: That’d be my ex-wife.
EMMA: Do they wake you up do you think or do they wait for morning?
Did Foster have anyone?
MARK: Just his dog I think.
And us.
MARK and EMMA look at each other.
,
EMMA: I need to hear her say that she’s proud of me. Or not even proud. I just want her to see that I’ve changed. If I hear it from her I think I’ll be able to do put things to an end.
MARK: I didn’t think you believed in beginnings, middles or ends.
EMMA: I’m realising my limitations. I can’t live another life but my own. I’m relinquishing a certain
agony
about all that. I’ve
MARK: surrendered.
EMMA: I don’t know. Maybe.
No.
I came to a realisation. Paul said it once.
This is all bullshit. None of it’s real.
When I’m on stage I know it’s all pretend. I’m not the person I’m pretending to be. Everyone else knows that. But somehow it doesn’t matter. We all just sort of
decide
that it’s real.
It’s the same with the programme. With everything, really. Language. Politics. Money. Religion. Law. At some level we all know it’s all bullshit. A magical group delusion.
MARK: Right, yeah, no you’ve lost me.
EMMA: Wile E Coyote only ever falls when he looks down. He runs off the cliff and just keeps running in mid-air. It’s onl
y when he looks down and sees that he should be falling that gravity kicks in.
That’s my spiritual awakening.
Don’t look down.
MARK: Don’t look down.
,
EMMA: I’m not ready.
MARK: None of us are.
EMMA: But you get to stay.
MARK: What, you
,
you don’t know.
EMMA: What?
MARK: We’re being closed down. Funding’s gone. Everybody out.
EMMA: No.
MARK: Week on Monday I’ll be begging Chester for my old job back. Will you help me practise?
EMMA: But that’s
MARK: the end of the world.
,
MARK moves to leave but then stops in the doorway.
I hope he does show up tonight.
EMMA: Who?
,
MARK: God.
He flicks the light off. EMMA is lit by the bedside lamp and the streetlight coming through the window.
,
EMMA looks up at the ceiling.
,
EMMA: Come on then.
Show yourself.
I’m ready if you are.
,
Silence. Stillness.
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
,
Morning breaks. The Group Therapy room. A circle of chairs.
DOCTOR: Here.
The DOCTOR hands EMMA a book.
EMMA: What’s this?
DOCTOR: Foucault.
I made a few corrections.
It’s all very interesting but I’m not sure if it’s particularly applicable to
life.
And I watched The Exorcist.
EMMA opens the book and finds an envelope inside.
EMMA: What’s this?
DOCTOR: A letter from me saying that, in my opinion, you’re not a risk to future employers.
,
EMMA: What am I going to do?
DOCTOR: Go to meetings. Ninety meetings / in ninety
EMMA: in ninety days. I will. But I mean
EMMA looks at the paper.
what am I supposed to do now? With my life. How do I go back to normal? How do I walk out on stage after this? If I ever go into an audition again it’ll be like climbing fucking Everest.
I thought I might train as a therapist. Like Lydia. Then I thought: maybe I just want to play the part of a therapist.
First day of rehearsal is always the same. You sit in a circle of chairs, just like in group. You introduce yourself one by one, just like in group. You say, ‘hello I’m whoever and I’m playing the role of whatever’. There’s something about that situation I can’t quite
I just can’t separate the two circles of chairs. If you see what I mean.
DOCTOR: Don’t overthink it.
People, Places & Things Page 7