Issi That bad, was it?
Junior (back to press release) I mean, he’d have to know I’d feel humiliated? The boy’s an intern.
Issi Maybe he didn’t, Junior. He’s not himself right now.
Beat.
Junior Look, we’re both adults here, so forgive me for what I’m about to say, OK?
Issi (wary) OK.
Junior I know you fucking my dad . . . my mother knows – which makes it even harder to say what I wanna say . . .
Issi There’s more?
Junior (friendly) Don’t act all surprised, Issi, I knew you were in touch with your ‘inner freak’, but I was a little surprised when I saw your most frequently viewed website . . .
Issi You checked my web viewing? You bastard!
Junior Bloody hilarious! Does my father know?
Issi It’s where I met him, actually.
Junior You met my father on illicitaffairs.com?
Issi Yes. I was rather specific, you know how exacting I am, ‘Black, solvent, thinks outside the box lives inside, interested in politics,’ etc. – and only two came up.
Junior Why married?
Issi ‘One should jettison themselves away from love as far as possible till the right one appears . . . ’ Can’t remember who said that, but I read it at college and it makes sense, right? You said you had something else to say?
Junior . . . My father actually respects you, Issi. I know he does. Speak to him for me, please . . . Do you think you could do that?
Issi (confused) About what?
Junior There is an issue about some money going . . .
Issi Oh, I don’t want to get into money stuff, Junior.
Junior Please, it’s really important. He listens to you . . .
Issi At best, right now your father is a functioning alcoholic, Junior. I don’t think he listens to anyone . . .
Junior . . . He listens to Adrian.
Issi Then that’s who you should be speaking to.
Beat.
Junior He has told you who Adrian is, right?
Issi shrugs her shoulders, not understanding the question.
Junior At first I couldn’t work it out – the face – then it hit me . . . Every so often, as a child, I would see this car drive by my house and there was a kid there sat in the passenger seat, staring into the home. It wasn’t regular, but I began to feel – to know when it was going to happen – when he was going to drive by . . . and stare at my life. I’d ask my dad about it, but he’d push me away, ‘Stop talking stupidness’ – then one day, thirteen, and it stopped. Adrian is . . . my father’s son. He had him a year or so after I was born, at least that’s what I think and . . .
Enter Adrian, taking off his iPod. Issi spots him.
Issi Morning, Adrian!
Adrian (taken aback by the enthusiastic welcome) Hi. Good morning, Junior.
Junior Adrian.
He doesn’t realise that Adrian hasn’t overheard anything.
Adrian (to Issi) We’re informal today, Issi.
Issi I ran in. I do that sometimes.
They all just stare at each other, no one knowing what to say, but the air is thick.
Issi Look, I’m going to get in the shower upstairs. See you guys in a minute. We’ll catch up later, Junior.
She picks up her bag and leaves.
Adrian walks to his desk, switches on his computer. The boys sit in silence. Adrian is waiting for some kind of communication. Eventually he bows.
Adrian So, what did you think of last night?
Junior Sorry, I missed it.
Adrian Oh.
Back to silence.
Junior Where did you say you grew up again, Adrian?
Adrian I don’t think we’ve had that conversation. Any conversation actually.
Junior (friendly) So I’m asking now. Where did you grow up?
Adrian All over, really.
Junior Where is all over?
Adrian Exactly that. We moved so many times.
Junior (restrained anger) Can you remember just one of the places then?
Adrian Well . . . Um, between three and seven, we – my mother and I – lived in Norbury – then we moved north for a while, Highbury, before it went upmarket, my mother liked the whole ‘bury’ thing – then we moved to Tilbury after a while. Then finally where we are now –
Junior Where’s that?
Adrian Stamford Hill.
Junior Big Jewish area.
Adrian Yeah, I kinda grew up with um, um, a big dose of Jewish envy.
Junior Jewish envy?
Adrian Yeah, well, they were discriminated against, right? But through what they achieved intellectually, educationally, they became strong. I’m not talking about world conspiracy stuff – just that no one fucks with them now. Or if they do . . . they’re wary, even scared. Unlike us, of course, who they don’t care if they insult because we’re nothing. Powerless.
Junior And you think that’s right? You think people should be scared of you?
Adrian As I said, I grew up with it. A black US college cured me of that.
Junior Must have been hell moving so much?
Adrian No, my mum always had a nice big car. And where did you grow up?
Junior (not looking at him) I know who you are, Adrian . . . I don’t want to talk about it. Just don’t take the piss and try to pretend . . .
Adrian I . . .
Junior (raises his voice a little) I said, I don’t want to talk about it . . . Not now. I just want you to know. (From the heart.) I . . . know . . . you. And whatever your plan is here, I will quash it like a bug under the heel of my shoe.
Adrian Fine. I’m glad you know.
Enter Idrissa and Michael. Idrissa sees the two boys together. He feels the tension. He decides to break it.
Idrissa Another bright and wonderful day at the office. Hey, Junior, you haven’t put on the phones yet have you?
Junior No.
Idrissa Good. Don’t . . . Listen, I didn’t get time to stop off for brekky. Adrian, you wouldn’t mind doing the honours, would you?
Adrian (a little reluctantly, as in ‘I thought I was past that stage’) Oh, not at all. Would anybody else like anything?
Idrissa Just do the rounds – croissants and coffee galore. Here.
Hands him a tenner.
Adrian shuffles for a moment, then leaves the office. Issi re-enters.
Issi Hey, boys.
Michael Junior, is your father here?
Junior shakes his head as Idrissa checks that Adrian has completely cleared the building.
Idrissa (referring to the TV programme) Did you see that fiasco last night?
All shake their heads.
Idrissa How the hell did you miss that?
Michael I couldn’t face it.
Idrissa You’ll be facing a lot more than that today, I tell you. It’ll be on their website. He has got to go, Michael.
Michael (snaps a little) And I told you about saying things like that, Idrissa.
Idrissa taps into the website.
Idrissa Junior, you been snooping on my computer again? You’re such a wanker! How’d I get this thing on to all your computers again?
Junior Hit ‘streaming’ – under ‘connections’ – and it should do it . . .
Idrissa This shit is gonna be on YouTube before the day is out, trust me . . . Here, found it.
They all swing round and watch the wall-mounted TV.
We see Kwaku and Adrian sitting on one side of the interviewer’s desk and the interviewer laid back in his chair on the other. The picture is streaming quality. They are speaking, but we can’t hear the sound.
Idrissa What’s wrong with the sound?
Junior Rebuffer it! . . .
Idrissa presses something on the computer. It pauses, then continues, this time with sound.
Interviewer . . . The former Prime Minister and Deputy Prime Minister gave an apology –
Kwaku The former claat, you mean. Statement of
what? Dem don’t regret nothin. And it should have come from de bloody Queen.
Interviewer The Queen?
Kwaku Yes. That is you head of the state, innit?
Interviewer Well, ceremonial –
Kwaku And den she should ah tell she government to pay we – we reparations.
Interviewer OK, moving on. There is the point being made that as abhorrent as slavery was, it was legal at the time . . .
Adrian The kidnap, rape, murder and forced servitude of humans was always an illegal act. ‘It was “illegal” to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler’s Germany. Even so, I am sure that, had I lived in Germany at the time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers.’ Martin Luther King, April ’63.
Kwaku (to Adrian) Me na inna dis Jewish ting yeah? Come off dat.
Interviewer Pardon?
Adrian (jumping in) What my fa – Kwaku is is is saying is –
All pick up ‘What my fa –’ in the office.
Interviewer (not really understanding) What was that you said about Jews?
Kwaku I didn’t say anything about Jews, but I tell you what I do say: black people need to be racist, not just against Jews but against everybody. And it’s not until we do that, that we do unto you as you as you did unto us, that the fire will come down . . .
Michael (shouts) Switch it off, for Christ’s sake switch it off, Idrissa.
Idrissa does. Silence descends.
Michael We’re fucked . . . On every front we’re . . . Oh my God, it’s all my fault . . .
Issi You can’t blame yourself.
Michael Yes I can, I shouldn’t have let him bully me out of doing –
Idrissa It’s what I’ve been telling you for the last eighteen months. The man is mentally unstable, trust me . . . What I want to know is, what we going to do now? . . . The man is out of control and it’s dangerous, Michael. I don’t think I can stay here. I don’t think any of us can . . .
Michael I’ll talk to him . . .
Idrissa Talk? It’s too late for talk, Michael. Something drastic needs to be done or he will bring us all down . . . We’ll never be able to work in this game again, in politics – forget it. We’ll be the ones – the black racist guys – who –
Michael Idrissa, will you shut the fuck up and let me think!
Issi What do you mean by drastic, Idris?
Idrissa I don’t know. But if something isn’t done today, I’m outta here. And if you guys have a self-respecting African bone in your body so would you be. If not, then ma wah for youoo.
Just as he finishes Adrian re-enters.
Adrian So sorry I forgot. Did you say croissants or bagels?
Lights.
Scene Three
Later that day.
Idrissa, Issi and Junior are at their desks, not really working. Adrian is at his desk, typing away. A deadly silence hangs over the office. Kwaku is in his enclosure reading newspapers and on the phone.
Michael enters with a small carrier bag in hand. He can hardly look at any one. Eventually:
Michael Anyone seen or spoken to Val yet?
All No.
They shake their heads, no one really looking up at him either. Michael understands.
Junior The Equality Commission called.
Michael (knows bad news) Oh yeah?
Idrissa Ref big headline in this afternoon’s London paper. ‘Black racist thinkers slam Jewish community’ . . .
Michael OK.
Silence. Michael makes to head towards the office. Junior jumps up.
Junior Can I speak to you a . . .
He indicates the far corner. They head there.
I know this is probably going to sound a bit odd, and I’m not saying all, but I think that this is partly my fault . . .
Michael Kwaku Junior, come on, we’ve established that . . . no one is to . . .
Junior No, seriously, Michael.
Michael I won’t, I won’t let you do this, Junior . . . There are things that have happened I should never have allowed . . . and I’m not going to allow you to do this to yourself. Do you hear me?
Beat.
Junior Has he told you about the money? . . . The hundred grand missing from the savings account? If I didn’t tell Mum that he blamed me, she wouldn’t have left . . . Without her, Michael, he can’t function properly, never has . . .
Kwaku enters, singing quite loudly the Maze song ‘Happy Feelings’.
Kwaku (sings)
‘Happy feeling in the air, touching people everywhere!’
Everyone looks up before casting their eyes to the ground again.
Kwaku (to Michael) Remember dem tune dere? Old-time classics! Na, na, na, na, you gonna know this one . . . (Sings.)
‘You make me happy, this you can bet,
You stood right besides me and I won’t forget –
Before I let go.’ (Sings bass line.)
Bom bom bom, bom bom bom.
No one responds.
Ah, you guys are dry, man.
He heads off to his office singing the bass line.
Everyone then looks up at Michael. He heads to the office. He knocks.
Michael K, can I . . .
Kwaku Since when you start knocking?
Michael (innocent) K, remember when we had the payroll problem the other day – how did you sort it?
Kwaku turns to him for an extended moment. His eyes look as if they’ve swollen or reddened in a matter of seconds.
Kwaku Have you read these papers?
Michael Yes . . .
Kwaku Fucking white people, make me laugh, they been practising they shit for years, we say one likkle ting, identify their secret weapon and I’m Idi fucking Amin . . . I mean, what de fuck? You know even the freeholder called this morning, wanted to talk about our tenancy. I told him to fuck off.
Michael You told Glen to fuck off?
Kwaku Yes. His secretary, yes! Is the truth, it’s the truth you know that’s frightening them. When they start hitting you like this, you got to know you on to something.
Michael What’s the truth?
Kwaku . . . Then the conference centre pulls out, but ha, I got us another one. Just like that . . . Is a bwoy dey think they playing wid? I mean, you saw the interview, right?
Michael Yes, I did.
Kwaku waits for his opinion.
Kwaku The boy was good, wasn’t he? You should have seen his mother when I dropped him home.
Michael (surprised) You spoke to Gloria?
Kwaku Yes. I should never have left that woman, you know.
Michael stares at him.
Kwaku Where you been all morning anyway? I’ve had to handle all this shit by myself.
Beat.
Michael (changes subject) I was walking past Waterstone’s when you were away and in the window there was this book –
Kwaku Oh yeah?
Michael Grief and the Mind. Jumped out at me, so I bought it.
Kwaku What you got to grieve about?
Michael Started reading it and I just couldn’t put it down. All the things it says grief can make us . . . what drives us humans to do certain . . . things. I can’t explain it properly, you’d have to read it.
He tries to place it on the desk but is rebuffed.
Kwaku I ain’t got time to read stupidness right now.
Michael But there was this chapter, right, on the effect of grief. I reread it last night, and it suddenly began to make sense. Showed me how . . . it can sometimes contribute to making us, almost tribal . . . all this hatred can come out. But it’s not really hate, it’s grief . . .
Kwaku Sounds like a load of rubbish to me.
He places the open book on the table.
Michael Grief, it says, has three stages. Denial, then suffering and disorganisation – which she calls the heart of the grief, where you begin to feel the truth, that this loss is for ever, and there’s tremendous psychic, spiritual, emotional and physical pain.
Kwaku Is that so?
&n
bsp; Michael (spells it out) Yes. And its symptoms can include lethargy, memory loss and great, great anger . . .
Kwaku And what does the book say about nosey bloody parkers that should keep their stinking psycho, new-age bullshit to themselves?
Michael (staring right at him) Personally, I’m at number, number two. Because I feel that I have lost a friend, a companion and one of the finest cultural warriors I have ever known, and I think you are not well, K. I think this whole adventure is misconceived and it is killing us. And what’s worse, I know you don’t believe it . . . Is this what you think your dad would have wanted? Everything we’ve worked towards over these years – to be dashed away?
Kwaku (shouts) Don’t fucking tell me about my dad! What do you know about my dad? – You hardly met my dad, you was nothing but a fucking little African booboo boy that spoke posh.
Michael (ignoring) Kwaku, if we continue down this line I don’t know how we can get out of it in one piece . . .
The others outside who have deliberately not been looking in now do so, and Kwaku sees them. He also sees that Val is in the office now.
Kwaku I tell you how we get out of it, we can get out of it by you bloody supporting me, getting behind me . . .
Michael But it’s misguided, Kwaku. It’s working on the assumption that reparations is even on the agenda.
Kwaku Misguided?
He steams over to the door, opens it and stands in the doorway shouting.
I tell you what’s misguided. You think that I haven’t noticed over the years how you and Lola only employ people that are fucking African?
Michael K, stop it.
Kwaku You think I’m stupid? You think I haven’t seen?
Michael I have, we have employed the best people for the job . . .
Kwaku What are you saying? There are no West Indians that can do our job? There was a time when this office was filled with West Indians and we were doing better than we are now! None of them were writing in right-wing rags that black kids are more interested in mugging than mathematics. Michael, Michael, can’t you see what’s happening?
He walks on to the floor.
Issi, who employed you?
She doesn’t answer.
Idrissa, who employed you?
He doesn’t answer.
You see, they won’t answer me cos you’re one little motherland clique, aren’t you? Good to see you, Val.
Idrissa I told you, the man’s gone mad . . .
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