by Roddy Doyle
Leo (busy at the taps) Go over and knock on the Gentle-lads door there like a good girl.
Sandra Wha’! I will not! Get lost.
Angela Ah go on, love. It has to be someone neutral.
Sandra, giving in to Angela, goes reluctantly to the door.
Lorraine Scarlet for yeh, Sandra.
Yvonne waves at Dermot’s face. He forces a smile, and sits up. When Yvonne looks away Dermot keeps looking at her, beginning to look pleased with himself.
Sandra (at the door) Just knock only?
Leo Good.
Sandra knocks: nothing.
George (impatient) Come on. Come on.
Bertie Give it a good wallop, Sandra; go on.
Sandra knocks harder.
Denis Wha’?
Sandra looks lost.
Leo Ask him if he means the country Rolf Harris was born in?
Sandra (to the door) Do yeh mean the country Rolf Harris was born in?
Denis Yes!
Leo Tell him thanks very much now.
Sandra Thanks very much.
Leo Did yeh hear that now?
Bertie Si. —Muchos gratiassss.
Tommy He always puts one o’ these ones in comin’ up to the end. An easy one tha’ might be hard but was really easy.
Bertie Australia?
Tommy Yeah.
George Just cos he sings about kangaroos doesn’t fuckin’ — Martin Where else could it fuckin’ be?
Features Put Australia, George. There’s always a trick one near the end.
Leo (too busy) Sandra. Read the next one here now.
Sandra (about to run) No!
Yvonne (getting up) I’ll do it.
Sandra No; I’ll do it.
Leo shows Sandra the question on the card.
Noel Yeow, Sandra!
Angela scoffs, and raises her eyes.
Sandra (holding the microphone as if it’s going to bite her) Who wrote the best-sellin’ book — (Appalled at the length of the question.) Jesus! — tha’ also became a widely ah-acclaimed film, — (To Leo.) Wha’ is it?
Leo (looking at the card; quietly) ‘Elmer Gantry’.
Sandra ‘Elmer Gantry’.
Angela Well done, Sandra.
Sandra (quite pleased; sitting up on the stool) Thanks.
Tommy Second time this year.
George (writing) D’yeh ever read it?
Features No.
Martin (lifting his shirt to see if the ulcer is bruising) Good film. Burt Lancaster an’ your woman —.
Gary leans over to read the answer. George glares at him, warning him to come no further. Gary looks at Features.
George Don’t tell him.
Denis comes out of the Gents, looking a bit drained but healthily indignant.
Yvonne (to Dermot) Did Niamh ever show yeh her mole, Dermot?
Lorraine (trying to give out) Ah, Yvonne.
Lorraine and Yvonne, then Dermot, laugh.
Leo How are you now, Denis?
Denis Alrigh’. —Under the circumstances.
Leo Ah great.
Sandra Question Number Five —
Denis goes to take the cards from Sandra.
Sandra (disappointed; gripping the cards) Ah.
Leo (gentle warning) Now.
George (nodding at the answer sheet) Waste of a question tha’ really.
Features Still though. —nearly there.
George (worried) Stop.
Denis (into the microphone; very formal) Question —Number Five.
George and Bertie’s teams applaud. Denis is a bit moved, but he still tries to look indignant.
Denis When you’re finished —.
George Good man, Denis.
Noel Welcome back, Denis.
Denis gives Noel a quick glance of contempt.
Denis What aristocratic woman —
The teams look worried.
Noel (under his breath) He’s back.
Denis What aristocratic woman sent clippings of her pubic hair to the famous poet an’ ladies’ man, Lord Byron?
Lorraine Jesus!
George My Jaysis, wha’.
Features Some floozy annyway.
Denis I’ll need the full name there.
Noel D‘yeh want the number o’ hairs as well?
Bertie’s team laughs. Features and Martin start to laugh, but George stops them.
George (urgently) Don’t laugh; don’t laugh.
Bertie Pretend we know the answer, compadres.
Tommy (delighted) Ah yeah.
George —When about —? Come on.
Angela (just loud enough) Yeah; I read it in a book.
Bertie (pretending to write) Siii!
Martin They know it.
George Come on; shite!
(Desperate; to Gary.) Do you know?
Gary Eh, —no.
George Fuck yeh.
Bertie’s team sits back, looking pleased and mischievous.
Yvonne (to Dermot; re posting pubic hair) I wouldn’t do tha’.
Lorraine You’d deliver them yourself.
Yvonne ‘playfully’ pinches Lorraine.
Bertie (out of the side of his mouth) Annyone know it?
They discreetly shake their head’s.
Bertie (loud) I believe your man, Lord Byron made a doormat out o’ your woman’s curly fellas.
George (re Bertie’s distraction; not turning) Denis.
Bertie (loud) A redhead, she was, by all accounts.
George (trying to ignore Bertie) Denis. —The Queen Mother, Princess Anne, eh, Diana, —Fergie?
Martin No.
George Mary Queen o’ Scots, eh —eh —Fuck it.
Features Queen Victoria.
George Yeah —No.
Gary She doesn’t have to be English.
George Fu —
(Changes his mind.) Good thinkin’.
Denis Sandra’ll collect your answers. Pens down.
Yvonne We’ll help. Come on, Lorraine.
Lorraine (but getting up) Ah, Jesus.
Martin Princess Grace.
Features (aghast) Ah, no way.
Lorraine exits with Sandra. Tommy goes to the Gents.
Yvonne (to George) Your answers, please.
George Fuck off a minute; sorry, Yvonne love. — D’yeh know? Yvonne No.
George (writing) Shite! —Elizabeth the First, righ’.
Features Ah, fair enough.
Enter Lorraine. She joins up with Yvonne on their way to Denis. Lorraine Come here, d’yeh see who’s in there?
Yvonne Who is?
Lorraine Ju Ju Lips.
They scream laughing. Lorraine staggers slightly.
Denis Will yis do the scorin’ for me?
Yvonne Ah yeah. Dermot, come here.
Dermot hops to it.
Denis Thanks very much. It’d be a great help. It’s the only part I don’t —eh —.
Leo leans over and whispers into Denis’s ear.
Denis (to Yvonne) You can’t do any addin’.
(Handing her the marker.) Just writin’ in the scores.
(Indicating Bertie’s team.) They might object.
Yvonne (deciding not to object) Oh yeah.
Lorraine (reading the answer sheets; giving out) Jesus, Yvonne.
Denis (with a load off his mind) Righ’; before the final round I’ll give yis the answers to the one yis just did there; Round Nine.
George (trying to believe it, and comfort himself) Well, we got four out o’ five annyway.
Features That’s grand.
Martin (not convinced) Yep.
Denis One: the country with 1.5 million registered footballers is, of course, China.
Bertie Siiii!
Bertie’s team is delighted. George puts his head in his hands. The others are also distraught.
Noel (seeing George’s dismay) Yeow!
Features (quietly to Gary) You said that.
George (to the others) Yis fuckin’ eejits.
Martin Don’t st
art.
Bertie (across to George) Only one in it now, compadre. (Showing a lifted finger.) Uno.
George (to the others) Yeh fuckin’ thicks, yis.
Features wants to say something, but is afraid to.
Denis Saint Gabriel is the Patron Saint of the Postal Workers.
George Thank God. One ahead still.
Martin (remembering they’d another question wrong) Your woman’s pubic hairs —.
George (his world falling apart) They’re level; ah, shite. It’s not fuckin’ fair. —Just once—.
Denis (as the lights go down and Groucho starts to sing) Rolf Harris is, of course, Australian.
Bertie is congratulating his team. George’s team looks beaten and torn apart.
Lights fade.
SCENE TWO — THE KITCHEN
Groucho sings ‘La la laa —la la laa’.
It is a Sunday evening; before the Quiz.
Enter Briget, looking very well in her good outfit; followed by Tommy. Tommy is a bit more neatly dressed than in the Pub scenes. He is carrying a garden shears.
Briget (continuing the conversation as she enters) Ah, yeah. It’s nice. For a change, yeh know. (Laughing lightly) Even though it’s the same thing every Sunday.
Tommy is a bit uncomfortable. He won’t sit down till he’s told to. Briget picks up the kettle to gauge if there’s enough water in it: there is. She turns it on.
Tommy It’s somethin’ for yeh to look forward to.
Briget Ah yeah —. Sit down, Tommy.
(As in ‘or coffee’.) Tea?
Tommy Thanks v’ much, —Briget.
Briget Or there’s a bit o’ coffee if yeh —
Tommy Whatever you’re havin’.
Briget (putting two bags into mugs) Tea.
Tommy Have you enough for the mornin’?
Briget Ah, I’ll use these ones again.
Tommy (almost frightened) Ah God, Briget — !
Briget (feeling a bit guilty) I’m only messin’. I’ve loads. I’d want to have. My shower wash themselves with tea. —Yeah; I like my Sunday nights. Yeh know Trudy? Feature’s —? Ah, she’s gas. Mad.
While Briget and Tommy speak Briget gets a box of Cornflakes from a shelf, takes it to the table and, after looking out into the hall to make sure that the kids aren’t around, lifts the inner packet out of the box, and takes out the Jaffa Cakes. She takes out some of the cakes and quickly puts the Cornflakes back on top of the Jaffa Cakes. Tommy is startled and confused, but tries not to look it. Briget gives him two cakes.
Briget Two. Cos it’s Sunday, wha’.
Tommy (not getting the joke) Thanks v’ much, Briget. Lovely. — I don’t like Sundays that much.
Briget Ah; why not?
Tommy Ah —I like some of it. The mornin’s, I like. I watch the match; the soccer. I help out a bit, yeh know. Your Gavin’s comin’ along very well, so he is.
Briget (pleased) Ah, is he?
Tommy Ah, he is. He’s goin’ to be a useful little footballer. — We have a couple o’ pints then; the lads from the club. It’s gas sometimes. Always, nearly. —I like me Sunday dinner as well, I must admit now.
Briget Ah yeah.
Briget is thoroughly enjoying herself, and Tommy is beginning to.
Tommy I look forward to tha’. The gravy an’ the roasters.
Briget An’ the sweet after, wha’.
Tommy No, not really now. —I eat it, but —cos it’s there just. Briget That’s often the way.
Tommy (getting to the point) I watch the telly with me mother. She likes the Sunday stuff. An’ yeh know the way she’s a bit deaf? I tell her wha’ they’re sayin’. We watch the ‘Antiques Roadshow’. D’yeh watch it yourself, Briget?
Briget Ah yeah; sometimes I do.
Tommy Ah, it’s very good. I think annyway. We guess the prices of the things before they say how much they’re worth an’ sometimes we get it righ’, nearly exactly.
Briget Ah, do yeh?
Tommy Sometimes only.
Briget Still.
Tommy I took her to see it when they were over here, the ‘Antiques Roadshow’. They were over here. In the Royal Hospital there in Kilmainham. We didn’t bring annythin’ with us though.
Briget You should’ve brought the shears.
Tommy (getting the joke after a while) Ah yeah; very good.
(Serious; holding up the shears.) We have these fifteen years though, Briget. —Me father, God rest him, got them for me mother for her birthday.
Briget (enjoying both the sentimentality and the absurdity) Ah. Wha’ d’yeh do after the antiques, Tommy?
Tommy I stay in to watch the telly with her.
(Reluctant to rat on his mother.) I don’t mind. She loves ‘Glenroe’. Ah, she thinks they’re brilliant. I think it’s a bit borin’.
Briget Yeah.
Tommy Sometimes I’m not concentratin’ on it, yeh know, an’ she says, ‘What’s he after sayin’ there?‘, an’ I just say, ‘He says he’s goin’ ou’ to milk the cows’. An’ she thinks that’s grand. It doesn’t seem to matter, yeh know. But, come here, sometimes it’s terrible. We were lookin’ at ‘Eastenders’ there. Ah, a few months back, it was. When your woman, Cath, was in court abou’ tha’ fella tha’ raped her; d’yeh remember it?
Briget Ah, yeah.
Tommy An’ your man —your man tha’ done it was in the —dock, yeh know, givin’ his evidence. It was shockin’; d’yeh remember it?
Briget I do, yeah.
Tommy It was terrible now. —An’ she kept sayin’ to me, “What’s he sayin’? What’s he sayin’?”. An‘, God, Briget, I couldn’t tell her “He says he’s goin’ ou’ to milk his cows”.
Briget laughs, and then Tommy laughs as well; enjoying himself. Enter George; carrying a putter and an eight-iron. When he sees Tommy his expression falls just short of a sneer. Briget remains relaxed, expecting George to join in; but Toramy looks a bit snared. He begins to get up, hesitates, sits back down; grips the shears, as if about to go.
Tommy How-howyeh, George.
George (forcing himself into a good humour) What’s the story here; wha’?
George puts his golf clubs in a corner.
Briget (to George) Did yeh win?
George (the same question, with a slight edge) What’s the story?
Briget Tommy’s collectin’ his shears. We had them for ages. Sorry, Tommy.
Tommy Ah.
George Wha’ were we doin’ with his shears?
Briget I borrowed them off him.
George (to Tommy) Yeh have them now, do yeh?
Tommy (very uncomfortable) Yeah. Here —
George (before Tommy can finish) Good.
Have yeh finished your tea?
(Looking into the cup.) Yeah; yeh have.
Tommy (getting up) Yeah. I’ll —eh —
Briget is determined to make Tommy stay; because she has been enjoying herself and she won’t let George away with being so rude.
Briget (getting up quickly) There’s more tea in the pot here, Tommy.
(Ordering him.) Sit down. —D’yeh want one, George?
Tommy sits down, as if on a hot plate.
George (as if his tea is a fundamental right) Yeah.
Briget (pouring) We’ll serve our guest first, then we’ll see if there’s any left for you.
George’s face says ‘There’d better be’. Tommy feels George’s eyes burning him.
Tommy Just a half of a cup’ll do me.
George (to Briget) D‘yeh hear tha’?
Briget (ignoring him; handing out the tea) Wha’ d’you watch after ‘Glenroe’, Tommy?
Tommy (very aware of George) —Depends, —Briget.
George On wha’?
Tommy If there’s a film on. —She likes the cowboys.
George Does she? Where does she go to meet them?
Tommy doesn’t get it. Briget nudges George, to leave Tommy alone.
George is more relaxed.
Briget (trying to
get Tommy going again) Does she like John Wayne?
Tommy Loves him; she loves him. Funny; she can always hear him. Randolph Scott as well, she likes. But he’s never on on Sundays.
Briget (surprised) Randolph Scott?
Tommy Yeah. Her mother, like, had a cousin tha’ married a fella called Scott an’ they went to America an’ she thinks we’re prob’ly related to him, Randolph Scott.
Briget Ah, that’s nice.
Briget looks at George, to make sure that he is enjoying himself. He is, but his expression is very sardonic. Also, George is noticing how relaxed Briget is, how much she’s enjoying herself.
Tommy I don’t think he is. He’s dead now annyway. We watched one on Channel 4 there last week, with those subtitle yokes.
Briget Did yeh?
Tommy (a bit guiltily) I thought tha’ with the subtitles she wouldn’t need me to tell her wha’ they were sayin‘, so I could get ou’ for a pint, yeh know like, but —.
George (unwillingly impressed) That was good thinkin’.
Briget Yeah.
Tommy Only she couldn’t find her glasses so I had to read the subtitles for her.
(Wanting to go.) I’d better—.
(Standing up; explaining.) ‘Glenroe’.
Briget Ah yeah. Milkin’ the cows, wha’.
Tommy Yeah.
(Going; holding up the shears; unable to look at
George.) Thanks v’ much, —Briget.
Exit Tommy.
Briget (shouting after him) Bye bye, Tommy.
Briget laughs silently, then louder; expecting George to join in. He does, but half-heartedly.
George goes to the fridge and takes out a bottle of milk.
Briget Ah, he’s gas, isn’t he?
George Yeah. —fuckin’ eejit.
Briget (fondly) Ah, he’s not. Yeh should’ve heard him about ‘Eastenders’. His mother —
George (with an edge) Yis get on well annyway.
Briget Ah yeah.
(Noticing something wrong; indicating the clubs.) —Did yeh lose?
George (after taking a slug from the bottle; putting it back) No, I didn’t lose.