NED and JOY’s bedroom. NED is in bed, with headphones on.
VOICE. Performing cunnilingus can be one of the most wonderful things you can do for a woman.
Sounds of a woman getting excited. NED listens.
Leaving your tongue soft and your jaw relaxed, try licking from her vaginal entrance up to her clitoris, and following the outer edges of her vagina along both sides. This works as a great ice-breaker. (He frowns.) So. Exercise one. Stick your tongue as far out of your mouth as possible. (He does.) Slowly, curl the tip up and down. And side to side. All the time focus on your partner, and the intense pleasure only you are delivering. Before long, she just won’t be able to help herself keep coming back for more. And don’t forget, a great lover’s hands never stop moving.
He starts to move his hands.
Next, the tongue tube. Roll your tongue into a tube and slide it back and forth. This is likely to bring any woman to a volcanic orgasm.
NED, tongue out, waving his hands like Al Jolson, when JOY enters from the bathroom. NED deftly morphs his movement into a dance, as if enjoying a particularly funky tune. She watches him, lost in music.
NED (presses stop on the tape). Clapton. You are a god. Timeless. Absolutely timeless.
JOY walks over to a chair and removes her stockings. NED watches.
Listen to that same dry westerly. It’s raining somewhere in America right now, and they said on the radio that that is actually our rain. Well, it better break soon because – (Beat.) What’s that?
JOY. What’s what?
NED. On your finger. What is it?
JOY. It’s a plaster.
NED. Oh dear. You have accident? Little accident?
JOY. I cut myself.
NED. How?
JOY. Chopping lemons.
NED. Lemons? Looks nasty. I bet it bled. Did it bleed? My little cuddly –
JOY. Ned. We need to talk.
NED. What about?
JOY. What are these?
She is holding some pills.
NED. What? I don’t know.
JOY. What do you mean you don’t know?
NED. I’ve never seen them before.
JOY. Then how did they get in your cabinet?
NED. Hang about. Oh them. They’re nothing.
JOY. Where did you get these pills, Edward?
NED. Nowhere.
JOY. Nowhere.
NED. They’re nothing. They’re just... (Pause.) They’re... vitamins.
JOY. They don’t look like vitamins.
NED. That’s because they’re special vitamins, Joy.
JOY. Where did you get them?
NED. I don’t want to discuss it. They’re private. Some things are private and they’re... they’re private. (Low, to himself.) Layla. You got me on my knees. (To her.) What are you doing in my cabinet anyway?
JOY. Where did you get them, Edward?
NED. On the internet. Happy now?
JOY. Where on the internet?
NED. A website.
JOY. You’re aware that it says in your contract that if you take any mood-altering drugs –
NED. Joy –
JOY. – emotional labicity stabilisers sleeping pills or prescription analgaesics –
NED. Please, Joy –
JOY. – then you have to declare them to your employers. If you don’t you are liable to random testing and if you test positive you are suspended without pay. Then we default on our mortgage payments, and if we do that for three to six months then we’ll lose the house. We have nothing. No money. No job. No house. Now what are these pills, Edward? And think very carefully before you answer.
NED. They’re vitamins.
JOY. They’re not vitamins.
NED. They are. They’re a blend of vitamins and a tonic.
JOY. What type of tonic?
NED. I don’t know. A pick-me-up.
JOY. Ned. What have you been taking?
NED. They’re private. Okay? They’re to do with me.
JOY. Ned –
NED. Leave me alone.
JOY. Edward.
NED. They’re Rogaine.
Silence.
JOY. Rogaine? (Beat.) Hair pills.
NED. Happy now?
JOY. You’re taking hair pills.
NED. Happy now, Joy?
JOY. Why are you taking hair pills?
NED. I don’t know. Happy now?
JOY. Why –
NED. Look, can we... To have hair. Okay?
She laughs.
JOY. Why?
NED. I don’t know. To have it. To have some. Okay?
JOY. Oh, Ned. But... You’re bald.
NED. I’m aware of that.
JOY. You’ve never had hair.
NED. Actually. Yes I did.
JOY. Not since I’ve known you. On our first date you were bald. You’re bald in the wedding photos. You’ve always been bald.
NED. I had hair. I had hair before. I did exist before. And when I did, I had hair.
JOY. But not for years.
NED. But I had it. I had it. Okay? And maybe I want some now.
She laughs.
What?
JOY. Nothing.
NED. What’s so funny?
JOY. Nothing.
NED. Then why are you laughing?
JOY. How many do you take?
NED. Stop laughing at me, Joy.
JOY. How long have you been taking them?
NED. That’s none of your business. Six months.
JOY. Ooh, love. You want to get your money back, love.
She laughs.
NED. Guess what? I went out to the shed this morning and guess what? The lawnmower’s gone.
She stops laughing. Pause.
Someone’s pinched it. Someone’s pinched the lawnmower.
JOY. Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t get in the garden. You put a huge bloody great bike chain on the gate. Last Tuesday.
NED. I know. It’s still there.
JOY. Well, how did they get in? More’s the point, how the hell did they get it out?
NED. That is the question, Joy. It was there yesterday. I oiled it yesterday, after you asked me to oil it. And sharpen the blades. Said you couldn’t bear me squeaking about out there every Sunday. So it was there. But now it’s gone. And so have my fishing rods, my toolbox. My dad’s beekeeping equipment. But they left your massage chair, your box of bone china, and your knitting machine. And they took the tandem.
JOY. The tandem’s gone?
NED. Yes, Joy. Our tandem.
JOY. You bought that for our anniversary. That’s a four-hundred-pound, completely unused tandem.
NED. I wanted to use it. I suggested we went on a picnic only last Sunday...
JOY. It looked like rain.
NED. It hasn’t rained for seven weeks.
JOY. Hang on. There’s a bloody great padlock on the shed. You put it on there only last week.
NED. They broke the padlock. They broke it off with a chisel. The chisel was broke on the floor. It had blood on it. By the way, why were you chopping lemons? (Pause.) I just wondered why were you chopping lemons today?
JOY. I was making lemonade.
NED. Lemonade?
JOY. Yes. I woke up this morning with an unquenchable thirst. I’d been dreaming all night about lemonade. All night long I was guzzling gallons of the stuff. I was a pig for it. Couldn’t get enough. So this morning, I got up, I got the bus into town and went to the stall in the market and bought all their lemons. I bought six-dozen lemons. I brought them home, lined them up, and took a big knife and sliced the first one in half. Then I was slicing and slicing and squeezing and slicing and squeezing and slicing, and I had an accident. I thought I’d cut it off.
NED. Does it hurt? I bet it bled. Did it bleed? I bet it it stung. That explains it then. (Pause.) So can I have some?
JOY. Some what?
NED. Some lemonade.
JOY. You’ve just brushed your teeth.
NED.
I can brush them again.
JOY. Don’t be ridiculous.
NED. But I can. It’s the work of a moment.
JOY. Don’t be ridiculous, Edward. Anyway, you can’t have any.
NED. Why not?
JOY. It’s gone.
NED. Don’t tell me you drank it, Joy. Six-dozen lemons. What’s that make. Eh? Two, three gallons. Don’t tell me you drank three gallons of lemonade. There must be some left. You must’ve saved me some. You can’t have drunk it all.
JOY. Who said I drunk it?
NED. You never drunk it.
JOY. I couldn’t drink it.
NED. What?
JOY. You couldn’t drink it. It was too tart.
NED. Put sugar in it.
JOY. I did. Then it was too sweet. It was undrinkable. I disposed of it...
NED. You disposed of it.
JOY. I threw it away.
NED. Three gallons of lemonade.
JOY. It was too sweet.
NED. You know me, Joy. I’ve got a sweet tooth.
JOY. Well, it’s too late now. It’s down the sink.
Pause.
NED. Is it deep? The cut. What knife was it? The bread knife? The carving knife? That knife’s a killer. Deep, is it? Deep gash. Bet it throbbed. I hate to think of anything hurting you.
Pause.
JOY. Why don’t you kiss it better?
Pause.
NED. Can I, Joy? Can I kiss it better?
JOY. Why don’t you?
She holds her hand out.
Kiss it.
He does.
NED. That’s better. All better. There there. I bet it bled. Did it bleed, Joy? I bet it did.
Pause.
JOY. It bled something cruel.
Blackout.
Spotlight on:
DALE. I met my wife, Lyn, down the car wash. I’d just started out, my first place. Old burnt-out filling station. Bucket and sponge. This bird pulls up in a little clapped-out Mini. The old sponge, the old leather, splashing suds, soaping it up, wiping it off. All the time she’s inside. Doing her make-up. Lipstick. Keeps catching my eye. She’s short but buxom. Big. In all the right places. I’m waxing the bonnet, doors, wings, and I see she’s left the window open. It’s boiling hot, and we’re chatting. She’s shy. I’m cleaning the boot and she’s got the mirror angled, looking at me, putting on bright red lipstick. I’ve got my shirt off, it’s boiling hot. At the end, she says she’s left her purse at home. She can’t pay me. ‘Hello,’ thinks I. ‘Where’s this going. Where’s this off to?’
Blackout.
A surtitle appears:
‘I tried to grow lemons last year.’
NED and JOY’s house. JOY sitting. DALE standing.
DALE. There you go.
JOY. So what was it?
DALE. Trip switch. If there’s a surge in the power sometimes it trips out. We’ve got the same problem over the way. Have you got a torch? In case it happens again.
She flicks a lighter. Lights a cigarette.
Well, if it goes again. It’s the white switch above the fusebox. Just flick it up and down three times.
JOY. Three times.
DALE. Up down. Up down. Wait a bit. Up down.
JOY. Up down. Up down. Wait a bit.
DALE. Up down.
JOY. I should be able to manage that.
DALE. I never knew you smoked, Joy.
JOY. I don’t.
DALE. Right.
JOY. I used to. Not any more. Only sometimes. Now and then.
DALE. By the way, Lyn asked me to pass on a message. She was popping out, for her nightshift, she said, ‘Ask Joy if she fancies a pint.’
JOY. Right.
DALE. Wednesday night. She said you two needed a catch-up. It’s been ages.
And I thought, as long as this dry spell keeps up we should have a get-together. Little barbecue. Might as well make the most of it. Before winter takes hold. When’s Ned back?
JOY. Friday.
DALE. Where is he this time?
JOY. It’s on the fridge.
DALE. He gets around. Scotland. Wales. Yorkshire.
JOY. Tring.
DALE. Tring.
JOY. Tring.
DALE. Not far then. Just up the road...
JOY. No. Not far.
DALE. Is he stopping up that way?
JOY. A Travelodge just off the A38.
DALE. Right. Do you fancy it then? Little barbecue. When he gets back. Just the four of us.
JOY. He’s blowing up a kiddies’ hospital.
DALE. That should draw a crowd.
JOY. Shall we bring something?
DALE. What?
JOY. To the barbecue.
DALE. Just your good selves. And your world-famous Waldorf salad. Let’s just hope the weather holds. If you have any more problems with the...
JOY. Up down. Up down.
DALE. Wait a moment. Up down. If there’s any problem. I’m next door. I’ll be up for a bit. I’m doing the wages. For the... the Kosovans.
JOY. Well, I shan’t keep you.
DALE. Shall I tell Lyn you’re on? For Wednesday. A girls’ night out.
JOY. Have you got a lemon?
DALE. What? Sorry... A...
JOY. I was just going to make a gin and tonic. I’ve got gin. And tonic. Ice. I’ve not got no lemon.
DALE. Let me see. You might be in luck. Lyn went to Lidl’s just this afternoon.
JOY. I don’t mind replacing it.
DALE. Don’t be daft.
JOY. Only if you can spare it.
DALE. Don’t be daft.
JOY. Is that all right? It’s just I have a craving. For a nice cool gin and tonic. I’ll tell you what. If you can spare a lemon, if you give me a lemon, you’ll be a lifesaver.
DALE. A lemon.
JOY. A lemon.
Silence.
DALE. Joy.
JOY. I’m thirsty, Dale. Why don’t you fetch me a lemon?
Blackout on JOY. Hold spotlight on:
DALE. I tried to grow lemons last year. Up the allotment. I was growing the lot. Potatoes. Turnips. Runner beans. It kept getting hotter and hotter. I bought this little lemon tree from the garden centre. Went up every day to water it. Ended up with one rock-hard green bullet. Like a brussel sprout. Then the tree died. It’s a desert now, with the drought. I broke my back. Now everything’s gone. Just a bare patch of land with a rickety old shed.
Pause.
Spotlight up on JOY.
JOY. I never knew you had an allotment. You’re full of surprises.
Well, I’d like to see it.
DALE. See what?
JOY. The allotment.
DALE. Don’t be daft. There’s nothing there.
JOY. Why don’t you show me it?
DALE. When?
JOY. Now.
DALE. But. There’s nothing there.
Blackout.
NED appears in a spotlight. Unblinking.
NED and JOY’s living room. NED is alone. He skips on the spot. Does sit-ups. Ten. Pumping two dumbbells. Press-ups. Star-jumps. Picks up a barbell. Pumps out three. Four. Starts grunting. Shouting. Screaming. Six, seven, eight, nine. Puts it down.
He puts it down and paces like a wild animal. Throwing punches. Pumped. And starts doing star-jumps. He picks up the fire poker and brandishes it like a sword. Kendo-style. He starts thrashing the sofa. Over and over, in a frenzy. He is about to smash it to pieces when he stops.
He puts the poker down. Suddenly exhausted he collapses onto his back. Breathing hard.
DALE enters.
DALE. Ned.
NED. Dale.
DALE. You all right?
NED. I’m good. Resting. Resting between stations.
DALE. Sorry I’m late. I had to fire a couple of Kosovans. You look warm.
NED. I’m hitting the ground running, Dale.
DALE. You’ve gone very red.
NED. I’m pumped. I’m in the zone.
DALE. Have you drunk any water? Sit down.
NED removes his shirt.
NED. Right. Don’t hold back. Give it me straight.
Pause.
DALE. Ned –
NED. End-of-week report. Straight Ned. I need feedback. Tell me what you see.
Pause.
DALE. Ned –
NED. From the hip, Dale. Feedback. Hit me.
Long pause.
DALE. Ned. Listen. We’re doing great.
NED. Really?
DALE. Yes. Slowly, slowly, catchy monkey.
NED. Hey – Rome wasn’t –
DALE. Exactly. A journey of a thousand miles –
NED. How do the tits look?
Beat.
DALE. Great. The tits look great.
NED. Mate. Listen, I’m no fool. I know the score. But, see, last night I weighed myself. Then I checked on the charts. Last week, I was morbidly obese. This week, if my sums are correct, I’m just extremely fat. (Beat.) Thank you so much for this, Dale. You’re a real mate. That’s great feedback. Okay. I’m ready.
DALE. What for?
NED. For the test. My body-mass whatsits.
DALE. Index.
NED. Exactly. With the callipers. The pen. Crunch the numbers.
DALE. It’s only been one week, Ned.
NED. Exactly. End-of-week report.
DALE. But it’ll be much the same.
NED. But it won’t be exactly the same. It’s got to have moved a bit. Right?
DALE. Yeah but –
NED. Well, let’s test it.
DALE. Ned. It just won’t have moved much.
NED. But it will have moved a bit. Christ, I’ve been killing myself here. Please test it. I need feedback.
DALE. It’s pointless, Ned.
NED. What about the chart?
DALE. The what?
NED. The chart. Men’s Monthly says keep a chart. So fine. I have a chart at home. I drew it up on a big piece of graph paper. Like they said. I bought felt-tip pens. I’m going to chart my progress and it goes, my chart, it goes week by week. This is the end of week one. It’s time to get on the chart. Now test my fat.
DALE. Slowly, slowly –
NED. Test my fat.
DALE. Catchy –
NED. Fuck off. Test my fat!
DALE. It takes time, Ned.
NED. I haven’t got time, Dale. Now test my fat. Test my fat, Dale. TEST MY FUCKING FAT!
Silence.
I’m sorry.
DALE. It’s all right.
NED. What is wrong with me?
DALE. Forget it. Never happened.
NED. What the fuck is wrong with me?
DALE. Shall we move on?
Silence. NED goes and fetches a book.
Jez Butterworth Plays Page 23