Cardew No. You are nothing. Without me you are nothing.
Phil I don’t want you. Go. Go.
Enter Augusta.
Augusta He is here. The invert is here.
She kicks Cardew.
Augusta Pervert. Boy lover.
Cardew John.
Augusta Do I sound Irish to you? No.
She kicks Cardew.
Say it. No.
No more Irish pokery. No more Miss O’Flaherty.
It was a music evening. I can sing only one song and that is in French, which I was afraid would sound suggestive. But I took my chances. Abandoned or no, I determined to give it my best shot.
Now, as I’m sure you can imagine, I do not have a pleasant voice but it carries well enough. And the Jewel Song carried all the way to Lord Bracknell. Yes, your man Bracknell. I have him.
She kicks Cardew.
Oh, contain my excitement. Oh contain my tongue.
Contain my heart.
She kicks Cardew.
He said: ‘Your voice impressed me.’
I said: ‘Volume often impresses more than beauty.’
And he said: ‘How true, but so few women really appreciate volume. They spend all their time trying to acquire more beauty when all they require is to be a little louder.’
And so, naturally, I continued the conversation at a quite extraordinary volume and so caught Lord Bracknell’s heart. And now I shall be Lady Bracknell and I shall have very many children and they will all be completely English.
She kicks Cardew repeatedly.
Phil Oh shit. Not breathing.
Augusta Oh, Rule Britannia. Rule Britannia.
Phil Make him breathe. Make him breathe.
Augusta I know nothing of motherhood yet. I thought marriage first, as happens in all the best families.
Exit Augusta.
Phil shakes the baby.
Phil Come on. Please. Come on.
(Taking baby to Cardew.) Can’t you make him breathe?
Cardew No, John. Dead to me now.
Phil shakes the baby.
Phil Come on, cunt. Breathe. Come on.
He puts the baby down. Lights a cigarette.
Breathe – you.
He burns the baby’s skin with the tip of his cigarette. It cries.
There. See. Can breathe if you try. Good.
Enter Constance.
Constance This is mine. This came from me. What it feels, I shall feel. Here. Here. To me. Give me the child.
Phil Yes. Alright.
Constance Oh yes. Come here. Come here. Let me feel something.
She takes the baby.
And now, of course, it should flow through me. Now I should feel overwhelmed by a mother’s love.
Phil And what do you feel?
Constance Nothing.
Phil Here. Give him to me.
Constance No. It will come. Hold him long enough and it must come. Don’t want to look down and see – what? – little square bundle of feet and teeth and eyes. That is not it, is it? No. No. No. Should see love. That is quite the proper thing to see. So why? Feed him. Feed him. That will do it. Yes. That will do it.
Enter Moncrieff and Prism.
Moncrieff Oh my love. No. No. Come.
Constance Must do my duty.
Moncrieff Not the duty of an animal.
Constance Must be as one with the child.
Moncrieff Not like this. Come.
Now – hand the child over. Cling to the child and the child will cling to you.
Constance hands the baby to Prism.
Moncrieff Now we will go about our business. My billiards, your piano. And from time to time the child will be shown to us and we will be shown to the child. And so the proper degree of affection between parent and child will grow. You understand?
Constance Yes.
Moncrieff Good.
Exit Moncrieff and Constance.
Prism You were born in quite the wrong family, were you not? Neither father nor mother to care for you. So, why should I?
She sits and works on her novel. Baby cries.
I’ll thank you for a moment’s silence. Please. If I could just enjoy a moment’s silence.
Phil Here. I’m good with him. I’ll . . .
Phil takes the baby.
Prism Well, that is a little better.
Really, how am I to deal adequately with fiction when reality keeps making such rude interruptions on my time? Because, really, you are a single infant. You really won’t make one bit of difference to the world.
Whereas this is a novel. Think of the emotion and instruction contained in a three-volume novel and think of the thousands of readers.
I have just reached the part where she goes into the night, out into the storm to challenge the ghost . . .
Phil Isn’t breathing.
(Taking baby to Prism.) Isn’t breathing.
Prism I must have peace. Peace. I don’t want you. Why won’t someone take you away? Why won’t the bogeyman or anyone take you away?
Cardew Might I be allowed . . .
Prism Mr Cardew. I thought they had driven you from the town.
Cardew I will be leaving London shortly. I will begin again. I thought the coast. Worthing, I think. Nobody much bothers what happens in Worthing.
Prism But you will still have your boys?
Cardew If I cannot care for another what am I? But I have been too liberal with my charity, my care has been too ostentatious. Now I shall care for just one lost soul, one boy.
Prism A child in need of care? A child ignored and forgotten by its parents?
Cardew Exactly. Might I have . . . ?
Prism Bags become so easily muddled at Victoria Station. It is quite possible, in a moment of mental abstraction, I should place my manuscript in the perambulator and the baby in this handbag. What a confusion. And that, similarly abstracted, you should mistake my bag for your own.
Cardew Victoria Station? Which line?
Prism The Brighton line.
Cardew Thank you, thank you.
Exit Cardew.
Prism To he who needs the child, the child shall be given. That is what justice means.
Exit Prism.
Phil Oh no. Can’t get me like that. Know how to make you start again. See I know how.
He stubs the cigarette on the baby. Nothing.
Come on. Come on.
Stubs the cigarette. Nothing. Again. Again. Again.
Come on. Come on.
He pushes the cigarette into the baby’s eyes.
Just gonna be awkward? Just not gonna breathe, eh? Alright. Alright.
He sits, looks at the baby. Long pause.
He puts the baby in a bin-bag.
Enter Cardew with handbag. Sets it down carefully. Opens it. Brings out a baby.
Cardew My own.
Enter Lorraine with shopping bag. Puts down shopping bag. Goes to cradle. Sees it is empty.
Phil I did a bad thing. I . . .
Lorraine goes to bin-bag, picks it up.
Cardew My own one.
Lorraine cradles the bin-bag. Cardew cradles the baby. Phil howls.
Some Explicit Polaroids
Some Explicit Polaroids, produced by Out of Joint, was first performed at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds, on 30 September 1999 prior to a run at the New Ambassadors, London. The cast was as follows:
Tim
Russell Barr
Nadia
Fritha Goodey
Helen
Sally Rogers
Nick
Nick Dunning
Jonathan
David Sibley
Victor
Matthew Wait
Directed by Max Stafford-Clark
Designed by Julian McGowan
Lighting by Johanna Town
Sound by Paul Arditti
Characters
Helen
Nick
Nadia
Victor
Tim
&n
bsp; Jonathan
A slash in the dialogue (/) is a cue for the next actor to start their line, creating overlapping dialogue.
Scene One
Helen’s flat
Nick and Helen. Nick is very wet.
Helen Nick. Fucking hell. Nick.
Nick Hello, Helen.
Helen Fucking hell.
Nick I tried to ring you.
Helen You’re / wet.
Nick Wet. Yeah. It’s raining.
Helen Right.
Nick I tried to ring you. Let you know. But I was there and I couldn’t work out how to get the money in and there’s a girl behind me and she says ‘they only take cards’ and I’m like cards? What the fuck does she mean ‘cards’?
Helen Listen, I have to –
Nick I’m soaked. I need to change my / clothes.
Helen Nick, I was on my way out.
Nick I thought maybe you still had some of my gear . . .
Helen Sorry?
Nick Something I could change into?
Helen Nick. I threw it all away.
Nick What? All of it?
Helen All of it. Years ago.
Nick Right. Right. I see. You look smart.
Helen I’ve got a meeting to go to.
Nick Kid in the lift tried to sell me smack. Must have been about seven. I said: ‘You shouldn’t be selling drugs at your age.’ And he said: ‘How else am I gonna buy a PlayStation?’
Helen There’s a lot of that goes on.
Nick What the fuck is a PlayStation? How’s your mum?
Helen Dead.
Nick Right. Right. But the council let you –
Helen I bought it.
Nick Yeah?
Helen Yes. I bought the flat from the council. Alright?
Nick Fucking hell, Helen.
Helen Yeah. Propertied classes me. So, what you going to do to me? Firebomb through the letter box? Picket the entryphone. Or maybe you’re going to kidnap / me and do all sorts of terrible things to me?
Nick No. No. No. I’ve changed.
Helen Well good.
Nick I really want to change out of these clothes. I think I might get flu or something.
Helen Nick –
Nick Maybe if I just –
Helen I haven’t got time for this.
Nick starts to take off his clothes.
Helen Nick.
Nick There’s no ring. You’re not / married.
Helen No.
Nick I think that’s a good choice. Not to tie yourself down like that. Keep your independence. Play the field a bit when you fancy it. I think that’s a really good choice you’ve made there.
Helen There was someone.
Nick Right.
Helen For a few years but in the end she moved.
Nick She?
Helen Yes. She moved to America.
Nick Really? / She?
Helen She’s in computing. I still get the odd card from Silicon Valley.
Nick So you’re a . . . ? What? You’re . . .
Helen There’s been a few blokes / as well.
Nick Right. Right. You still look great.
Helen I look middle-aged. I am middle-aged.
Nick No, you’re . . . So, nobody actually around at the moment?
Helen Maybe. No . . . It’s none of your business actually, is it?
Nick No toy boy in the bedroom? No lady wrestlers behind the sofa?
Helen Yeah. But they all hid when they heard the door go. Which doesn’t mean I’m up for it, okay?
Nick I wasn’t asking.
Helen Alright. Just in case you were thinking of . . . Don’t.
Nick Alright then.
Helen You’re going to have to put those on again. I’ve got a meeting and I’m already running late.
Nick Yeah.
Helen You caught me on my way to a meeting.
Nick What sort of meeting?
Helen Council meeting. I’m a councillor.
Nick Yeah?
Helen Yes. Nowadays I’m a councillor, hence . . .
Nick Smart clothes.
Helen Hence smart clothes. Look. There’s some jeans and a T-shirt Finnoula left. She was quite a big girl. You can have them.
Nick I need somewhere to stay.
Helen Oh.
Nick I’m sort of stuck and I need somewhere to stay and I thought you might just put me up until . . .
Helen I’m sorry, Nick.
Nick For a short time.
Helen No.
Nick Why?
Helen Because I don’t want to. Because I don’t want you here.
Nick I did it for you.
Helen Fuck off.
Nick I did it because you wanted me to.
Helen What is this bollocks? This is bollocks.
Nick You said: ‘That bastard is the scum of the earth and someone should kill that bastard.’
Helen We all said that stuff. We said rubbish / like that all the time.
Nick I’m not blaming . . . Listen. Your dad, when they laid off your dad, when that bastard buys it up and they’re gonna asset-strip, chuck your dad away and you wanted him dead.
Helen I was twenty. Everyone was a fascist or a scab or a class traitor. ‘Eat the rich.’ We used to chant that, I mean what the fuck did that mean – ‘eat the rich’?
Nick And you said to me . . . ‘He should be killed.’
Helen Did I?
Nick Yes.
Helen Then I was very stupid.
Nick And I said: ‘I’ll do it.’
Helen I don’t remember. Because I can’t imagine that I ever thought –
Nick It was real for me. Scab, class traitor. I wasn’t playing.
Helen Yeah, well, we all thought it was real at the time. At the time, we all believed it. Do you still believe it?
Nick I’ve only just got out. I don’t understand anything now.
Helen Well, everything’s changed.
Nick And you’ve changed?
Helen Of course. Look at me.
Nick Let me stay.
Helen No.
Nick Looking at you now, I still feel a lot of the same stuff. About you.
Helen You’re looking at a different person.
Nick Same feelings.
Helen Yeah?
Nick Yeah. And what are you feeling right now?
Helen I don’t know.
Nick A few of the old feelings?
Helen Maybe . . . Yes, a few of the old feelings.
Nick A couple of days.
Helen . . . Okay.
Nick I want to learn . . . I want to understand how the world works now.
Helen Don’t ask me. You start with the little stuff . . . Okay?
Nick Alright.
Helen Bit by bit, you do what you can and you don’t look for the bigger picture, you don’t generalise.
Nick You were always a good teacher.
Helen Yeah?
Nick Yeah. You taught me a lot of stuff.
Helen What kind of stuff?
Nick All sorts of stuff.
They kiss.
Of course I’m a bit rusty on a few things. I need a bit of revision.
Helen Then you sit here and revise on your own.
Nick There’s a word for that.
Helen I wouldn’t know.
Nick That’s all you get in prison.
Helen That’s all you’re getting here.
Nick That’s a shame.
Helen I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you later.
Nick And what’s your meeting about, councillor?
Helen Boring stuff.
Nick Go on.
Helen It’s nothing . . . Boring stuff.
Nick Tell me. Tell me.
Helen It’s bus companies. They’ve deregulated the buses and now there’s hundreds of different buses whizzing around and the whole thing’s a mess and I’m trying to coordinate . . .
Nick You’re making the buses run on time?
Helen I’m tr
ying to make the buses run on time. Yes.
Nick Fucking hell.
Helen You see? I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d be like that.
Nick Like what?
Helen That you’d sneer.
Nick Did I sneer?
Helen Yes you did. Great big fucking sneer.
Nick Well . . .
Helen Well? What? What?
Nick It’s a bit petty, isn’t it?
Helen To you. Maybe to you. But if you’re stuck on some shitty estate and the only way to get out, the only way to get to the shops is a bus / and at the moment there is no bus, then no it’s actually very important actually.
Nick Get to the shops? Get to the shops?
Helen We’re actually making people’s lives better. What did you ever do, / Nick? What did we ever do? Sure talk, talk, talk, march, march, protest. Ban this, overthrow that, but what did we ever do?
Nick And what about the big targets? Why are there shitty estates? Why are they there in the first place? / You should be going for the big targets.
Helen Oh yes. Come the revolution, down they come. But while we’re waiting . . .
Nick Let’s fiddle with the fucking bus timetables. / So fucking petty.
Helen picks up Nick’s clothes.
Helen Tell me one concrete thing we ever did. Go on, Nick. Fuck off. Fuck off.
Nick I’m sorry. I . . .
Helen I don’t want you here. I don’t want to see you. I don’t ever want to see you. Go.
Nick Helen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I . . .
Helen Goodbye. There’s a whole big bad world out there waiting for you. Fuck off.
Scene Two
Airport.
Nadia Because we all have our own journeys that we’re travelling. Each of us has our own path and, of course, we can’t always see the path, sometimes it seems like there’s no sense in anything, you know? But of course there is. Everything makes sense.
Victor You think so?
Nadia Oh yes, of course, yes.
Victor I don’t think so.
Nadia No?
Victor I think everything is crazy. The whole world is fucking crazy.
Nadia Maybe it seems –
Victor Yes. Everything is totally crazy. I like that. I’m a crazy person.
Nadia No you’re not.
Victor Yeah, totally fucking crazy.
Nadia I don’t think you’re crazy.
Victor Every day I wake up and I say ‘Another fucking crazy day. What am I going to do today?’
Ravenhill Plays: 1: Shopping and F***ing; Faust is Dead; Handbag; Some Explicit Polaroids (Contemporary Dramatists) Page 17