MARGARET. I could, you know.
I could…
GRACE. I know you could… of course you could… and if it makes it any easier you can marry me.
MARGARET. Marry you?
GRACE. Then I can live my life and you can live yours.
MARGARET. Dear God.
GRACE. You can bring him too if you like.
He might like Soho.
MARGARET laughs.
All I ask is that you let me be myself.
Let me be Grace.
MARGARET looks at GRACE.
MARGARET. That’s… that’s not so difficult.
GRACE. So you like me?
MARGARET. I could grow to like you.
GRACE. That’ll do.
Slight pause.
MARGARET. But can I ask you one thing?
GRACE. Anything.
MARGARET. Why?
Why the clothes?
GRACE looks down at her clothes, smoothing the line of her skirt.
Is it Irish?
GRACE guffaws.
Please don’t laugh at me.
GRACE. Sorry. Sorry, Margaret but no, no… it’s not Irish.
My poor sisters didn’t even have a decent dress between them let alone me.
No.
It was later.
The clothes came later.
In France.
MARGARET. Why?
GRACE. Because… because there is such a comfort in it.
Isn’t there?
In the frills and the lace and the softness.
Such softness!
Like a soft day.
Cottons and silks.
It felt.
It feels.
It feels like something beyond, Margaret.
MARGARET. Beyond what?
GRACE. All this.
All the ‘mud… and blood… and murder’.
Slight pause.
MARGARET. Soft?
Like a mother?
GRACE. Perhaps.
MARGARET. Like a lover?
GRACE. Just soft, Margaret.
And in a world of killing men.
In a world of scattered limbs.
Scattered fury.
‘Soft’ feels like heaven.
MARGARET. And now?
GRACE. Now ‘soft’ is just a part of who I am.
Farmboy.
Singer.
Killer.
Grace.
Slight pause.
So will you come with me, do you think?
MARGARET. Do you know, Grace Doherty.
I might.
I just might.
Slight pause.
Though I can hear my mother turn in her grave.
GRACE. Hah! But not William!
William is only dusting off his shoes.
So that he can dance with us.
MARGARET. Dance?
Why? Are we going to dance?
GRACE. Why not?
GRACE starts to play a little ragtime music now on the piano.
MARGARET lights up.
MARGARET. What’s that?
GRACE. Ragime. It’s from America.
MARGARET. From America!
GRACE. Your brother loved it.
MARGARET. Have you ever been to America?
GRACE. Not yet.
We’ll go.
We’ll both go!
The lights change and the music fills the hall.
GRACE leaves the piano and takes MARGARET in her arms.
They start to dance ‘The Castle Walk’ (it is a fun, fast dance).
MARGARET. Wooooh! Did you and William dance like that?
GRACE. Yes we did.
MARGARET. It’s WILD!
GRACE. Yes it is.
MARGARET. I’m beginning to believe that William really did send you here.
GRACE. Only beginning?
MARGARET. Like a guardian angel.
Do you have guardian angels in Ireland?
GRACE. Millions of the Hoors!
MARGARET laughs.
You laugh like him too.
MARGARET. Do I?
GRACE. Deep and honest.
Slight pause.
I wonder, do you waltz like him?
MARGARET. I don’t know.
GRACE. Will we try?
MARGARET. Yes please.
GRACE clicks her fingers and a slow waltz starts to play.
She and MARGARET waltz.
Shall we go and bury William after?
GRACE. Would you like to?
MARGARET. Yes.
Yes, I think…
I think that might be lovely, Grace Doherty.
MARGARET puts her head on GRACE’s shoulder.
They continue to dance.
The lights fade.
Interval.
ACT TWO
SEAN DOHERTY is in his mother’s living room. It is old-world Victorian with piano and high windows. There are theatrical pictures on the piano.
SEAN is in his pyjamas rooting through piles of papers.
He takes a sip from his mug.
The doorbell rings. He looks at his watch.
SEAN. Shit!
He leaves to answer the door, returning quickly with MIRJANA BEKTO, who wears a blue nurse-like uniform.
I was just looking through papers… trying to find your number… Tabitha Home Care right!?
MIRJANA. No. I am with The Nightingales.
SEAN. Oh yes The Nightingales, of course.
I’m sorry.
I think Tabitha were tomorrow.
MIRJANA. Very good.
SEAN. Again I’m so… I’m terribly sorry.
I told her!
I told Mother that you would be here by ten.
I can’t imagine where she’s disappeared to!
MIRJANA. I see.
SEAN. She didn’t leave a note, a message but I presume… I’m presuming… I’m hoping that she’s just popped out.
MIRJANA. So you said.
SEAN. To the shop.
To the chemist.
Something like that.
MIRJANA. Yes.
SEAN. Yes.
MIRJANA. Did you try telephoning her?
Does she use a mobile?
SEAN. Oh yes. Incessantly!
But no, I mean yes, I tried it… I’ve been trying it for hours… no, not hours, since I noticed that she… since I got up.
MIRJANA. And she didn’t answer?
SEAN. No.
She didn’t answer.
MIRJANA. Is that a cause for concern?
SEAN. Unfortunately no.
I don’t mean unfortunately… I don’t mean I’d like to be concerned. What I mean is that I know Mother and she doesn’t answer when she doesn’t want to.
MIRJANA. Ah, I see.
SEAN. Yes.
Slight pause.
MIRJANA. So you would like me to wait, Mr Doherty?
SEAN. Yes. Yes please.
If you don’t.
If you don’t mind…?
MIRJANA. I don’t mind.
It simply depends on how long?
SEAN. Of course.
Of course.
I can understand that.
MIRJANA. Good.
SEAN. Thank you. Thank you, Miss – ?
MIRJANA. Bekto.
SEAN. Thank you. I’m sorry about… about all this… as you can see I’m a tad stressed… it’s all a bit of a stress… Mother!
MIRJANA. Is it?
SEAN. Oh yes… she’s not… she’s not quite cooperating.
She’s not quite accepting growing old.
MIRJANA. I see.
SEAN. In complete denial actually… if I’m honest.
MIRJANA. Right.
SEAN. Until she falls… then… panic stations!
MIRJANA. Does she fall?
SEAN. Yes she falls a lot.
MIRJANA. Is there an underlying condition?
SEAN. Belligerence!
He laughs, MIRJANA doesn’t.<
br />
No, sorry… what I mean is it’s hard to know what’s going on really, she won’t go to a doctor… she believes in herbs… holistic… holistics… but this is the second time I’ve had to come home this year because of a fall. I don’t live here, you see, don’t live in the UK. Haven’t for years.
I’m in Luxembourg.
MIRJANA. I see.
SEAN. I teach at the university there.
Classics.
MIRJANA. Very good.
SEAN. Thank you.
MIRJANA. Yes.
SEAN. Have you been to Luxembourg?
MIRJANA. No…
SEAN. Oh, well, it’s beautiful… on the river… old-world, I like it… I’m happy… well, relatively… I was until… until… well, lots of stuff but God here I am ‘going on’. I do go on, apologies about that. Cindy says it’s nerves… she says I’m nervous but I think it’s she that makes me nervous… sorry, Cindy is my wife… ex-wife… about-to-be ex-wife.
MIRJANA. I see.
SEAN. So I’m going through a divorce right now as well as Mother!
MIRJANA. Right.
SEAN. But you don’t want to hear about that.
You’re not here to hear about that.
MIRJANA. No.
SEAN. No.
Sorry. Apologies.
MIRJANA. No problem.
So Mum is on her own, is she?
SEAN. Yes, Mum is on her own.
And that’s a worry now… it never was before…
MIRJANA. How old is Mum?
SEAN. Eighty-two, she’s eighty-two.
MIRJANA. Eighty-two.
SEAN. And she’s starting to have these little crises.
MIRJANA. Crises?
SEAN. When she can’t find things… or when she falls… or when something goes wrong in the house. So I need to… I really feel I need to put something… some care in place for her.
MIRJANA. Of course.
SEAN. I mean, the neighbours are good but it’s not fair to expect… you know… and there are new families now, of course, on the street, as is to be expected, many of Mother’s old friends are gone.
MIRJANA. Yes.
SEAN. So now she telephones me when there’s a problem. Daily. Or on the hour sometimes. And then she might forget she’s on the phone because something distracts her, one of the cats distracts her and I’m left… I’m left holding… and worrying…
MIRJANA. I see.
SEAN. And I don’t have anyone to call… here… not any more… because they’ve all died… her crew… her gang… or they live abroad… and I can’t just come running.
Keep come running.
Because I’ve got a career to think of.
MIRJANA. Of course.
SEAN. Would you?
Would you like to sit down?
While you’re waiting?
MIRJANA. Sit down?
SEAN. Yes, I find it a tad nerve-racking having you stand… standing there.
MIRJANA. Nerve-racking?
SEAN. I’m just… it might be more comfortable to sit.
MIRJANA. Okay, we will sit.
SEAN. Wonderful.
He takes a breath.
Sorry if I appear, if I appear a bit…
MIRJANA. Stressed.
SEAN. Do I?
MIRJANA. It is natural.
SEAN. Is it?
MIRJANA. Of course.
SEAN. Oh… okay… good.
And can I offer you some tea?
MIRJANA. No thank you.
SEAN. Coffee?
MIRJANA. No thank you.
SEAN. Vodka?
MIRJANA. No thank you.
She hesitates. He laughs.
SEAN. Only joking!
It’s only ten o’clock in the morning!
MIRJANA. Yes it is. It is only ten o’clock in the morning.
He smiles, as he eyes the bottle of vodka on top of the piano.
He sits on the piano stool.
SEAN. So. Miss Beeko, perhaps we should have a chat about your services… Tabitha services as you are here.
MIRJANA. Nightingales.
SEAN. Oh yes, of course.
MIRJANA. Well we actually believe it is important to have the client present at the first meeting.
SEAN. Do you?
MIRJANA. Yes.
SEAN. Well she will be, she should be… any minute now… but it would be great to get some sense of what you do?
MIRJANA. That really depends on the client.
SEAN. Does it?
MIRJANA. Ageing is a very individual journey.
SEAN. Indeed.
MIRJANA. At Nightingales we create a package to suit the client’s individual needs.
SEAN. Well, that sounds good…
MIRJANA. Yes.
SEAN. So you call every day?
MIRJANA. If that is what is required.
If that is what the client needs.
SEAN. And you do dinners?
Clean the house?
MIRJANA. We don’t clean.
We care, Mr Doherty.
SEAN. Right. So I should organise a cleaner or something separately should I?
MIRJANA. If a cleaner is required.
SEAN. Right.
MIRJANA. But it is really best to discuss all of the options when the client is present
SEAN. I know, yes… I got all that… it’s just that Mother… well, she is not exactly thrilled at the prospect of a carer, Miss Beeko, she rather guards her independence.
MIRJANA. I understand.
SEAN. Do you?
MIRJANA. Of course.
SEAN. Well, that’s a relief… so how do we bring her around to the idea?
MIRJANA. She would need to be here?
SEAN. Ha! Haha… yes, she would need to be here.
That would help, wouldn’t it!
MIRJANA. That would help very much.
SEAN. Right.
Got it…
MIRJANA. Perhaps you could telephone your mother again?
SEAN. Perhaps I could.
He dials the number. He smiles at MIRJANA. Gets voicemail. Hits speaker and we hear a sprightly elderly voice say: ‘You have reached the telephone of Willemina Doherty. I am afraid I am not available to take your call at present as I am hopefully doing something far more interesting! Leave a message if you dare! Byeeeee!’
And we hear the beep.
That’s her.
That’s Mother.
MIRJANA. Interesting.
SEAN. Oh yes, she is that.
MIRJANA. Do you think, Mr Doherty, that your mum might have made herself unavailable on purpose?
SEAN. I think that might be a distinct possibility.
As I said… she won’t accept that she is getting on.
And I’ve tried to tell her, tried to explain… that I can’t drop everything… that I can’t –
MIRJANA. Keep come running.
SEAN. Exactly! Because it’s…
MIRJANA. Quite a distance…
SEAN. Indeed.
But she reacts… you know.
Mother…
She can be… she IS quite dramatic.
MIRJANA. Is she?
SEAN. She comes from a theatrical background.
MIRJANA. I see.
SEAN. Worked as a theatrical agent for years. She represented some of the greats… Hopkins, Hancock, Caine…
He waits for a response, there is none.
They would be quite famous around here?
MIRJANA. I know.
SEAN. Anyway it all means that Mother is quite the performer. She likes to quote Plath… or Virginia Woolf…
They’re poets.
MIRJANA. I know who they are.
SEAN. And sometimes she likes to put her head in the oven.
In a kind of ode to Plath.
To get her way.
She does it on Skype.
I mean, when I’m on Skype.
When she Skypes me…
And wants me to come home
.
It’s not…
She’s not an easy woman, Miss Beeko.
MIRJANA. Bekto.
SEAN. Sorry.
You’ll have to forgive me.
I’m just, I’m not quite myself.
I’m going through a divorce.
Did I tell you that?
As well as Mother!
MIRJANA. Yes you told me that.
SEAN. Ah!
MIRJANA. Yes.
Pause.
SEAN. I’m actually quite conscious, Miss Bee… Bekto that I’m still in my pyjamas.
MIRJANA doesn’t reply.
I’d like to.
If you don’t mind. I’d like to just hop up and change.
I won’t… I really won’t be a minute.
He is gone. MIRJANA is left alone. She sighs.
She starts to look around a bit.
She looks at the photos on the piano.
She tidies the papers on the lid. Then she lifts them off the lid.
She looks around. She can’t help herself. She lifts the lid and hits a few notes, beginning to play…
SEAN returns smartly dressed.
Oh!
You play?
MIRJANA. No. No.
SEAN. It sounds like you play?
MIRJANA. I used to.
SEAN. Really?
Why did you stop?
MIRJANA. I stopped because… life changed.
SEAN. Did it?
MIRJANA. Yes.
Pause as she offers nothing more.
SEAN. Well, I suppose life changes.
MIRJANA. Yes it does.
SEAN. Are you sure you won’t have a coffee?
MIRJANA. No. No thank you.
SEAN. I’ll try Mother again in a minute.
MIRJANA. Very good.
Slight pause.
SEAN. You’re not from here, are you?
MIRJANA. Pardon?
SEAN. You’re not from Birmingham?
MIRJANA. No.
I am from Badgersbridge.
It is a village twenty-two miles from…
SEAN. Badgersbridge! I know Badgersbridge!
MIRJANA. Do you?
SEAN. Yes. That’s where my grandmother was from.
Mother’s mother!
Oh my God she’ll love that.
Mother will love that.
MIRJANA. It is a coincidence.
SEAN. Isn’t it!
So how long have you been in Badgersbridge?
MIRJANA. I…
She pauses.
Twelve years.
SEAN. But what on earth brought you out there… there’s nothing in it?
MIRJANA (hesitates). My… my husband.
SEAN. Really? He’s from there?
MIRJANA. Yes he is.
SEAN. And what’s his name?
MIRJANA. Sorry?
SEAN. His name?
MIRJANA. His name is Tom.
SEAN. Tom?
MIRJANA. Yes.
SEAN. Well… that’s… super…
Slight pause.
MIRJANA. I’m afraid I cannot wait the entire morning, Mr Doherty.
Crossings Page 3