by Fin Kennedy
KIRSTY, eighteen, Cara’s older sister, hard-working, practical, wise beyond her years
MISS CHILCOTT, forties, the school headteacher, caring but firm, with a hint of steel
CLAIRE BAINES, thirties, journalist for the local Herald newspaper
JULIETTE HANCOCK, forties, elected councillor, constantly wired on coffee
The cast are all onstage. They each hold a dictionary. CARA talks directly to the audience.
CARA. So it’s lunchtime in school. Everyone’s hungry. Except me. I don’t get hungry. Not any more. It’s summer term, exams are coming up, so they make us do these lunchtime revision classes. It’s bullshit, they’re not even about a subject, it’s just words – literally going through the dictionary from A to Z. ‘Five words a day,’ Mr Perkins says – like fruit and veg. Like nutrients for the brain. All I know is it gives me a headache. Been doing it all year but we’re still only on F.
Everyone opens their dictionaries to F. Moving down the column of words with their fingers, they read the words and definitions aloud.
ALL. Ffffffff.
JAMES. ‘Farouche – shy or ill at ease.’
CARA. ‘Sullen or unsociable’ mine says.
SAJ. Yeah, that sounds like you, Cara.
CARA. Shut up.
CHRIS. ‘Farrier.’
SAFF. A what-ier?
KASIA. Fa-rr-ier.
ROB. Never heard of it.
KASIA. Me neither.
HARRIET. It’s ‘an expert in equine care’.
SAJ. You what?
CHRIS. Someone who looks after horses.
CARA. Don’t you know anything?
SAJ. Yeah, alright, Farmer Girl, we’re not all country bumpkins.
CHRIS. Cara’s not a farmer, her dad is.
CARA. Was.
CHRIS. Yeah – sorry.
JAMES. ‘Farrow – a litter of piglets.’ I never knew that.
SAJ. Why would I wanna know that?
JAMES. I wonder what a tray of pork burgers would be?
HARRIET. A heart attack?
JAMES. About… forty quid profit I reckon.
SAFF. I don’t touch pigs, innit.
SAJ. Yeah I don’t think the pigs wanna be touched by you either, Saff.
SAFF. Pigs are dirty.
SAJ. The pigs are relieved.
ROB. ‘Fart’!
SAJ. Eurgh – who?
ROB. No, it actually says fart – look!
SAFF. Oh my God it actually does.
SAJ. Brilliant!
CARA. Well, it is a word.
KASIA. But is it a proper word?
JAMES. It’s in the dictionary.
ROB. ‘To break wind from the anus’!
SAJ/ROB/JAMES. Ahahahahaha!
SAJ, ROB and JAMES fall about laughing, then mimic farting.
ROB. Excuse me while I break wind from my anus!
CARA. Oh, man.
CHRIS. That is so immature.
KASIA. Disgusting.
JAMES. Do you think ‘shit’ is in there?
SAJ. Yeah, look up shit.
HARRIET. We’re on F.
ROB. I know an F-word.
CARA. Can we just get on with this?
CHRIS. Fart is also ‘a worthless person’ – says here.
HARRIET. Yeah, and ‘to fart about – to waste time’.
SAJ. But mostly ‘To break wind from the anus’!
ROB. I’ve gotta get that into the exam.
CHRIS. If you fart in the exam I will kill you.
JAMES. When nature calls, Chris.
CHRIS. Maybe you should change your diet.
SAJ. Maybe you should change your personality.
HARRIET. ‘Fascinate – to interest exceedingly.’
KASIA. Exceedingly?
JAMES. Exceedingly, your honour.
SAJ. Your worship.
ROB. Your lordship.
JAMES. How very spiffing.
SAFF. Well, I ain’t interested in this lesson.
ROB. Not even exceedingly?
SAFF. Not even a little bit. Can we go yet? I’m thirsty.
CARA. ‘Fascism – authoritarian form of government characterised by extreme nationalism.’
SAJ/JAMES/ROB. Bor-ing.
SAFF. Sounds like this school.
KASIA. It’s important actually, fascism caused millions of deaths in Europe last century.
JAMES. Yeah? Well, boredom’s gonna cause millions of deaths in this school any minute.
SAFF. ‘Fashion’ – now you’re talking.
SAJ. Pfff.
KASIA. ‘The make or cut of a thing; vogue or trend.’
ROB. Yeah, and what would you two know about that?
KASIA. More than you – Lycra Boy.
SAFF. Yeah.
ROB. I ain’t wearing Lyrca.
KASIA. I’ve seen you.
SAFF. Yeah, at the weekends.
KASIA. In your gimp outfit.
ROB. That’s professional cycling gear, actually, you go faster in it.
SAFF. Like a horse?
ROB. You what?
SAFF. Getting whipped: Giddyup!
ROB. Shut up.
KASIA. Do your wax your chest and everything?
ROB. I don’t need to.
SAJ. Why? Haven’t you got no pubes?
ROB. It’s not pubes on your chest, it’s –
JAMES. What?
ROB. Man… hair… on the chest.
SAJ. Pubes.
ROB. Shut up.
JAMES. So have you got any or not?
HARRIET. Can someone please raise the tone of this conversation!
CHRIS. Seconded.
CARA. Ignore them.
CHRIS. Anyone’d think we’re Year Sevens.
HARRIET. ‘Fast – one: Able to move, function or take effect quickly.’
CHRIS. A fast horse.
HARRIET. A fast pain-reliever.
CARA. Gonna need one of them after this.
SAFF. A fast thinker.
ROB. So, not you then.
SAJ. ‘Fast – two: Done in comparatively little time – fast food.’
ROB. Like your dad’s chicken wings.
SAFF. Yeah, they’re done in seconds.
JAMES. Time is money.
SAJ. They’re cooked at a very high temperature.
SAFF. Then why are they always pink in the middle?
SAJ. They’re not.
ROB. They are.
SAJ. They’re not.
ALL. THEY ARE.
SAJ. It shows they’re fresh!
CHRIS. Fresh out the freezer.
HARRIET. Yeah, it’s cos they’re half-raw.
SAJ. No they ain’t.
ALL. THEY ARE.
SAJ. Well, you don’t have to buy ’em!
CHRIS. I don’t.
CARA. Nether do I.
HARRIET. Nor me – yuck.
JAMES. They’re cheap.
KASIA. They’re okay.
SAFF. Yeah, I love ’em.
CHRIS. I don’t know how you lot can touch that stuff.
SAJ. Each to their own – weirdo.
ROB. Yeah, go and eat a carrot.
CHRIS. I’ll tell you a good place for a carrot.
SAFF. Eurgh.
HARRIET. Can we stop talking about bodily things please?
JAMES. Who said anything about that?
CHRIS. Yeah, that’s all in your imagination, Harriet.
HARRIET. Saff thought it too.
SAFF. Well, where would you put the carrot?
KASIA. In a salad?
CHRIS. Grated into hummus, mmmm.
SAJ. Yuck.
HARRIET. ‘Fast – three: Stuck or sound – fast asleep.’
SAFF. Yeah that’s me, zzzzzzzz.
CARA. ‘Fast – four: In quick succession – events followed fast upon one another to the crisis.’
ROB. What crisis?
CARA. We’re coming to that.
JAMES. ‘Fast – five: Seeking excitement �
�� sexually promiscuous’!
ROB/SAJ/JAMES. Oooooooh.
SAFF. ‘A fast woman.’ What does that mean?
JAMES. Not like you.
SAFF. I don’t get that.
ROB. No, she’s a vast woman, that’s different.
SAJ/JAMES/KASIA. OOOOOOH!
SAFF. Yo, you want me to sit on you?
ROB. No thanks.
SAFF. Show you how vast I am.
CHRIS. That was below the belt, Rob.
CARA/HARRIET. Yeah.
SAFF (to ROB). Get on yer bike, freak.
ROB (to SAFF). I think you’re the one that needs to do that.
SAJ/JAMES/KASIA. OOOOOOH!
CARA. Rob!
CHRIS. Don’t rise to it, Saff.
HARRIET. Stop it, both of you! (To ROB.) Say sorry.
ROB. What for?
CARA. For being a dick.
HARRIET. For being nasty – for no reason.
SAFF. It’s fine, I don’t need his apology.
HARRIET. Well, he needs to give it.
JAMES. Jeez, man, sticks and stones.
CHRIS. Words hurt too.
HARRIET. Say it, Rob.
CARA. Yeah, say it.
Pause.
ROB. Sorry.
HARRIET. Good.
CARA. Thank you.
HARRIET. What for?
SAJ. Enough already.
JAMES. Yeah, that’ll do.
HARRIET. No, he needs to say what for. Rob?
ROB. It was just a joke.
SAFF. It’s fine, whatever. Can’t help my weight, can I?
ROB. Well –
CARA/HARRIET/CHRIS (to ROB). DON’T.
KASIA. ‘Fast – six: To abstain from food completely.’
JAMES. To what from food?
KASIA. To stop eating.
JAMES. Oh. How long for?
KASIA. Doesn’t say.
CHRIS. For a while.
HARRIET. For ages.
CARA. For ever.
SAFF. Nah, for a month.
JAMES. No, just for a day.
CHRIS. And a night – twenty-four hours.
SAFF. It’s a month for us.
ROB. Who?
SAFF. Muslims.
SAJ. Do you go the whole month?
SAFF. Yeah.
SAJ. No you don’t.
SAFF. ’Cept for iftar.1
SAJ. That don’t count.
CARA. A fast can be as long as you want it to be.
JAMES. How about for an hour?
SAJ. No it has to be longer than that.
JAMES. Any longer’s bad for business.
HARRIET. Anyway, it’s good for you.
ROB. What, to starve yourself?
CHRIS. It’s healthy, like a detox.
KASIA. I don’t need a detox.
ROB. Yeah, my body’s a temple.
HARRIET. Don’t you mean a sewer?
ROB. I work it off.
HARRIET. On your gimp bike?
SAFF. Has anyone got any water?
HARRIET. Here. (Sniffs.) What’s that smell?
SAFF. I dunno.
HARRIET. Kinda… fruity.
HARRIET hands SAFF a bottle of water. SAFF drinks.
MISS CHILCOTT enters.
KASIA. Shit, it’s Miss Chilcott.
MISS CHILCOTT. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Kasia. Alright, books down and listen up, please, class. Thank you for your time, I know you’ve got exams coming up. But as you know, tomorrow is the start of your twenty-four-hour fast for Oxfam. I’m pleased so many of you have signed up, and submitted your sponsorship forms. There’s some impressive amounts pledged. Harriet, Cara, Chris – well done.
KASIA (mutters). Creeps.
SAJ. Yeah, we can’t all be rich.
MISS CHILCOTT. I’m sorry, Saj?
SAFF. Miss, does it have to be a whole twenty-four hours?
MISS CHILCOTT. Yes.
ROB. Why?
MISS CHILCOTT. Because that’s what you’ve pledged to do.
SAFF. What about iftar?
MISS CHILCOTT. This is not a religious fast. It’s for charity.
HARRIET. People in Africa go a lot longer than twenty-four little hours.
MISS CHILCOTT. That’s right. It’s all in a good cause. Now, I just need to give you some safety tips before you come in tomorrow.
JAMES. Miss, how will people know?
MISS CHILCOTT. Know what, James?
JAMES. That we haven’t been eating.
SAJ. Cos you’ll be all skinny.
HARRIET. Not after twenty-four hours.
MISS CHILCOTT. They’ll just have to trust you. And you’ll be expected to stick by your word. Those sponsorship forms are binding. Anyone caught eating without good reason will receive a detention.
SAFF. Miss, is being hungry a good reason?
MISS CHILCOTT. Don’t be silly. You’ll all be hungry, that’s part of the experience. However, if you feel faint, or nauseous, or experience headaches, you are permitted to eat a small snack such as a biscuit.
SAFF. Just one?
MISS CHILCOTT. One or two. There will be an emergency supply in the school matron’s office.
SAFF. What kind?
MISS CHILCOTT. I don’t know.
SAFF. I only like Jammie Dodgers. And custard creams. And Bourbons. Oh, and those new Maryland Chunkies, mmm.
SAJ/JAMES/ROB. Mmmmm.
MISS CHILCOTT. I expect they’ll be something plain like Rich Tea.
SAJ. Bleurgh.
JAMES. Yuck.
ROB. Boring.
MISS CHILCOTT. And if you get seriously ill, or actually pass out, your fast will be cancelled.
JAMES. Can we still claim our sponsorship money? MISS
CHILCOTT. No.
CHRIS. Course not, divvy, you’ve flunked out. MISS
CHILCOTT. That’s right – they’re paying you to go the full twenty-four hours. Anyone caught deliberately breaking the fast will be reported and their sponsors informed.
HARRIET. What about water?
MISS CHILCOTT. Thank you, Harriet, a very important point – all fluids are permitted. You may want to bring a sugary drink with you such as Lucozade.
ROB. Miss, I thought fizzy drinks was banned?
HARRIET. Yeah, they’re unhealthy.
MISS CHILCOTT. Tomorrow will see a twenty-four-hour lifting of the school ban on fizzy drinks.
ROB. Result!
JAMES. Yessss!
CHRIS. No way!
HARRIET. Miss, that totally defeats the object!
ROB. It’s not for health, it’s for charideee.
HARRIET. Oh, like you care about that.
CARA. Yeah, Rob’s gonna make a killing!
MISS CHILCOTT. It’s just for one day. And, Rob, if I or any teacher catch you selling fizzy drinks in the playground –
ROB. I don’t do that!
MISS CHILCOTT. – as we all know you do –
ROB. Prove it.
MISS CHILCOTT. – then you will spend the entire day –
ROB. That’s slander, miss.
MISS CHILCOTT. – the entire day stood outside my office. Understood?
ROB. Yes, miss.
MISS CHILCOTT. That goes for all of you. Any questions?
ALL. Nooooo.
MISS CHILCOTT. Good. Thank you all once again for undertaking a charitable act.
SAFF. Can we go and get summing to eat now? MISS
CHILCOTT. Dismissed.
SAJ. Better go and stock up.
ROB. I could eat a horse.
SAFF. I could eat a farrier.
SAJ. A farrier’s a person, you dick.
SAFF. I could still eat one. Still thirsty too. Harriet, you got any more water?
HARRIET. What, you finished it?
SAFF. Yeah.
SAJ (to SAFF). You have got the weirdest breath.
SAFF. Shut up.
They leave.
MISS CHILCOTT. Not you, Cara.
CARA. What h
ave I done? MISS
CHILCOTT. Nothing.
MISS CHILCOTT waits for the others to leave.
How are you?
CARA. Fine.
MISS CHILCOTT. You sure?
CARA. Yeah.
MISS CHILCOTT. You don’t have to do this, you know.
CARA. Why not?
MISS CHILCOTT. Because… grief can affect you physically.
CARA. I’m fine.
MISS CHILCOTT. It’s only been a year.
CARA. Eleven months.
MISS CHILCOTT. Well, quite.
CARA. That’s ages.
MISS CHILCOTT. No it’s not. If you need to conserve your energy, your concentration, prioritise your exams –
CARA. I said I’m fine.
MISS CHILCOTT. Right. Alright. We’re here for you, that’s all I’m saying.
MISS CHILCOTT goes. CARA turns to us.
CARA. So it’s the night before. Mum’s away at another one of her spiritual-healing yoga retreats, so my big sister Kirsty cooks us dinner.
KIRSTY and CARA open a dictionary each, which becomes a dinner plate. They take out a knife and fork from a compartment in the middle. CARA picks at her food but doesn’t eat.
KIRSTY. We had a viewing today.
Pause. CARA doesn’t answer.
They were from a big chain. Industrial farming.
Pause.
The agent reckons they’re serious.
Pause.
You should be pleased. If we can sell this place we might both get to go to uni.
CARA. One of the chickens has gone missing.
KIRSTY. Really? I don’t know them all like you do.
CARA. It was Dad’s favourite. The Amber White. The one with the red spot.
KIRSTY. You should eat.
CARA. I’m not hungry.
KIRSTY. Don’t you like it?
CARA. No, I’m just not hungry.
KIRSTY. You’re never hungry.
CARA. Can’t help that, can I?
KIRSTY. You used to have a massive appetite.
CARA. Yeah, well, not any more.
KIRSTY. Tomorrow’s the fast.
CARA. So?
KIRSTY. So you need to stock up.
CARA. Twenty-four hours is nothing.
KIRSTY. You’ll be weak.
CARA. I’ve gone longer than that before.
KIRSTY. You’ve got revision.
CARA. Would you stop nagging me?
Pause.
KIRSTY. This asparagus is Dad’s. He planted it. It takes three years to grow.
CARA gets up.
Where you going?
CARA. Upstairs.
She goes upstairs. She mimes opening a door and walking into a room.
(To us.) Mum and Dad’s room’s at the top of the house, looking out over the farm. Well, it’s just Mum’s room now. But Dad’s wardrobe is still in the corner. Big. Solid. Like him.