What’s that?
NED. This. It’s a diary. Have you ever kept a diary, Dale? (Beat.) A diary. A journal. You ever a diarist? I do. Not a diary as such. I keep a record of sorts. Every time I go away, stay in a motel, Novotel, bed and breakfast, I have to keep the receipts and they reimburse me each quarter. You’ve got to be thorough or you never see it back. So I keep a record. Listen to this. Here. (Reads.) ‘12th March. Newbury sevices. A bacon sandwich. Apple turnover. Two bags of cheese and onion. Can of Lilt. Map of Berkshire. Daily Mail. Fifteen gallons of four star. £71.10.’ (Beat.) Funny though. Just reading that, I remember the day perfectly. It chucked it down all day. The M4 was a nightmare. (Reads.) ‘17th March. Room at the Travelodge, Sedgemoor Services, £46. Club sandwich, £3.95. Gladiator on pay-per-view, £8.50. Petrol, £29. (Beat.) 22nd March. Lunch at The Fight Cocks in St Albans with three local councillors. The rotisserie deluxe for four people, and wine, £98.60 with a ten-pound tip.’ I remember all these days. Can’t remember their names or nothing. I can see their faces. I can picture them, eating. In that pub. (Pause.) Then it stops. After that, it changes. (Pause. Reads.) ‘Monday, 19th April. Made Joy a cuppa. Took it through from the kitchen to the lounge. Put it on the table in front of her. She looked up and smiled. “Thanks,” she said, and touched my arm. (Pause.) 9th June. Went out into garden. The sun was setting. Came up behind her. She was staring out, over the end fence. Put my hand on the small of her back. She didn’t pull away. After ten seconds, she turned, smiled, and walked inside. (Pause.) 21st August. Watching telly. I laughed at something and Joy laughed too. We both laughed, together. She put her hand on my thigh as she laughed and laughed and laughed. (Pause.) 1st September. Woke up in middle of night to find Joy on me. Breathing hard. Sweating in the moonlight. Hot. Panting. She held me to her. “I want you,” she said. “I want all of you.” She ground herself into me and rode me like never before. A rhythm. A syncopation. It was like she was in a trance or... yes. Or still asleep. She never woke up. But she showed a passion like never before. As she climaxed, she gasped something. I strained close to her as she croaked out a single word. She said it once. A name. A place. I don’t know. But I know one thing. It wasn’t my name. It wasn’t this place.’
DALE. How do you know if you didn’t hear it?
NED. I didn’t hear it. I felt it. Here. On my cheek. And all I knew, for sure, was that it didn’t belong to me.
DALE. Ned. (Pause.) When did you last sleep? How long is it since you slept?
He walks over. NED slaps himself on the forehead. There is something stuck to his forehead.
What’s that?
NED. It’s a Scrabble piece. It’s the blank, Dale. If you don’t have the right letter, you can use the blank. It can be anything you want it to be. When I got up this morning, I looked in the mirror and that was on my face. It was stuck to my forehead when I got up this morning. Hello? What’s this? Oh look. The blank.
They look at each other.
Who plays Scrabble on their own, Dale? Who plays Scrabble on their own?
Silence.
I love her, Dale. I love her so much. And... I don’t know what I’ll do. If it’s true. (Beat.) If it’s true. She’s not safe.
Blackout.
Projection – extreme close-up on a Scrabble board. We read words:
SPIDER
SUNSHINE
FLYING
SHOES
FURTHER
HONEY
PLEASE
LEMONS
BOOM
GO_DNIGHT
NED and JOY’s bed. JOY and DALE playing Scrabble. Pause. They both stare down at the board intensely. JOY puts a word down. Adds it up.
JOY. Thirty-one.
DALE. Challenge.
JOY. Dale –
DALE. That’s not a word. Challenge.
JOY. Dale.
DALE. That. Trust me. That has got an ‘E’ in it. That needs an ‘E’. Possibly two. Challenge. (Pause.) How many letters are left?
JOY. None.
DALE. Bollocks. (Beat.) How many do I need?
JOY. A hundred and seventy-three. Give up, Dale.
DALE. Fuck off. I can do this.
JOY. Dale –
DALE. Fuck off. I feel a late surge.
JOY. With Four ‘I’s and a ‘Y’.
DALE. Wait. Stop. How do you know my letters? How do you know what letters I’ve got?
JOY. I always know what letters you’ve got.
DALE. How do you know what letters I’ve got?
JOY. Because when you take them out of the bag, Dale, your lips move. You mouth the letters.
DALE. Bollocks.
JOY. You do. You pull out an ‘O’ you go ‘Ohhh’. ‘W’? (She mouths it.) Then if you get the blank you usually go ‘Yes!’ (She punches the air.) The trained eye can pick up on these things. The true Scrabble expert.
DALE. That’s cheating.
JOY. Fifteen seconds.
DALE. You don’t know my letters.
JOY. Four ‘I’s and a ‘Y’.
DALE. I demand a rematch.
JOY. Ten. Nine. Eight.
DALE. Wait.
JOY. Six. Five. four.
DALE. Okay. Wait. I’ve got it.
JOY. Three. Two. One.
DALE. Oh no. Earthquake. Earthquake.
DALE shakes the board till all the letters jump up and down. He then ‘pings’ the board, pinging all the letters in the air.
Pause.
What happens now? Remind me.
JOY. Now you go home.
DALE. Why? What did I do?
JOY. It’s six.
DALE. I told you. She’s got squash.
JOY. Dale –
DALE. She took her squash stuff. She’s got squash. She’s playing Pauline. With Pauline, it always goes to the wire. It’s always a nail-biter. Lyn v Pauline. Call me biased, but Lyn’s got Pauline hands-down for flair. But Pauline has it here. (Taps his head.) She wins points she shouldn’t. Crazy points. Lyn calls her the Terminator. She just keeps coming at you. With that fucking forehand. Lyn v Pauline. It’s a war.
JOY. She’s dyed her hair.
DALE. Who?
JOY. Last week your wife had black hair. This week she’s strawberry blonde.
DALE. Yeah. She looks nice.
JOY. Do you think so? Younger?
DALE. I’d say it brings out her eyes.
JOY. Wouldn’t you say it brings out her eyes?
DALE. I would. I’d say it brings out her eyes. Is that a new lamp?
JOY. She came round to show me yesterday morning. She looks sweet. Don’t you think she looks sweet? She’s bought a new autumn wardrobe. Blacks. Contrasting shades. And two new pairs of shoes. She said she showed the hairdresser a picture of Charlize Theron. Do you think she looks like Charlize Theron, Dale? With her new hairdo. Her new strawberry-blonde hairdo and her autumn wardrobe.
DALE gets out of bed. Stretches.
What are you doing?
DALE. Stretching.
He points above the window.
We’ve got that.
JOY. What?
DALE. That crack above the window. We’ve got the same crack, but it goes the other way. But we’ve got that. We’ve got that crack.
He looks out front, out of the window.
DALE. Fuck me.
JOY. What?
DALE. You can see the motorway from here. Look at that. See, we don’t have that. Those fir trees over there are the problem. But look at that. No fir trees. And there it is. Bang. The motorway. (Pause.) All those people. Driving home. Look at that. (Beat.) I’d say, on balance, yes. You’ve got a much better view than us. In fact the whole neighborhood looks different from here. You’ve just got a much, much more pleasing view. (Beat.) By the way, why don’t you ever ask me anything?
JOY. What like?
DALE. I don’t know. Normally birds want chapter and verse. In two months. You haven’t asked me a thing. I mean...
JOY. What’
s your favourite colour, Dale?
DALE. Right.
JOY. What’s your favourite food, Dale?
DALE. Forget it.
JOY. If you could meet any famous person –
DALE. Forget it. Forget I said anything.
JOY. If you could come back as any animal –
DALE. What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?
JOY. What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done? (Pause.) Come on. What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?
Pause.
DALE. I once got my head stuck in a hole.
Pause.
JOY. What hole?
DALE. I was in the Cubs. On a sixers’ camp out near North Mimms. We went looking for animal tracks. We were supposed to do plaster casts of deer prints. Badger prints. I went off on my own. Got my head stuck in a hole.
JOY. How?
DALE. I just followed these tracks. And they led to a hole. I thought I’d have a look in. See who was home. So stuck my head in. I was there for hours.
JOY. I can’t bear it, Dale. What did you do?
DALE. I just waited. Waited for something to come along and tear my eyes out. Eat my little face. Pull out my tongue. I don’t know. It was pitch dark.
JOY. Who found you?
DALE. The other Cubs. They got a spade and dug me out. I was eight.
JOY. What would you rather be eaten by, a shark or a lion?
DALE. Pass.
JOY. You can’t pass.
DALE. A lion.
JOY. Why?
DALE. A lion is a professional. Holds you down and chokes you. You just drift off. Whereas your shark... he just keeps rushing up and taking great big bites. No one needs that.
She laughs.
If I’m going to get eaten I’d rather not be there when the actual eating part goes down. I’d rather be swiftly dispatched, then eaten. Finally, a lion shares you with its offspring. It’s just more of a family occasion. Also, I’ve never been to Africa.
JOY. Why don’t you want to be there? This is the last thing you’re ever going to do, ever. There’s nothing after it. I want to know what it’s like to be ripped apart. To be devoured in two or three big bites. I want to be ripped limb from limb. I want to see my blood on the water. I want to be there. I want to feel it. To be devoured. Whole. Sudden. And in ten seconds, nothing. I’m gone.
DALE. What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?
JOY. This.
Pause.
DALE. I better go.
JOY. She took her squash stuff. She’s got squash.
DALE. Yeah but –
JOY. It’s Lyn v Pauline. It’s a fight to the death.
Pause.
DALE. After that first barbecue, I said to Lyn, she was brushing her teeth I said, ‘Nice pair. Nice couple. He’s a laugh. She don’t say much. Just sits there and drinks a whole box of wine.’ But Lyn weren’t having it. She says to me, ‘It’s early days, Dale. She’s shy. Trust me. That one just needs warming up.’ (Beat.) Then the very next day, scorcher it was, I look out the window and there she is, next door, on a lounger, and she’s in just a bikini. She’s lying there in the all-together. And the funny thing is, as I’m looking down on her, out the window, the funny thing is, I could be wrong but it looks like she’s looking straight back at me. And what if she doesn’t sit up, pop her top off and lie there, in just her bikini bots. Gazing up at me. I was thinking, ‘Lyn. I take it all back. I stand corrected. She’s just shy. That one just needs warming up.’ Did you see me, Joy?
JOY. I couldn’t possibly say.
DALE. Like you’re looking at me now.
JOY. Just like this.
DALE. Then you took it off.
JOY. How?
DALE. Show me.
JOY. How was it?
DALE. Show me. You slut.
JOY. Slut.
DALE. You dozy slut.
JOY. Dirty bitch.
DALE. You dirty whore. Show me.
The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times.
NED (on the answerphone). Joy. Are you there? If you are there, pick up. No? It’s me. I’m in the Travelodge at Cheshire Services. Had a successful day. The room isn’t bad actually. I’ve got my own tea-making facilities. And Sky Sports. But you have to key in a code and I haven’t got it. Anyway, I’ve got two short meetings in the morning, and then I’ll hit the road. I should be back by bedtime... Well, I’m going to get some sleep now. Well, sleep well. My little cuddly toy. Night night, cuddly toy.
Silence.
JOY. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
Pause.
DALE. What?
JOY. Somewhere warm? Somewhere far away, over water? You know where I’d go? Anywhere it’s spring. Early spring. Warm sunlight and cool shade.
DALE. He thinks you’re nicking his stuff. He does. He thinks you’re picking him clean.
JOY. Now why would I do that?
DALE. Why indeed? How did you get the birdbath out? Seriously. How did you nick his birdbath?
JOY. Strictly speaking, that was my birdbath.
Silence.
DALE. Going somewhere?
JOY. What if I was?
Pause.
DALE. Going somewhere are we, Joy? Are we going somewhere?
Pause.
JOY. I don’t know, Dale. Are we?
Blackout.
Spotlight on:
DALE (pause). You’ve lived for years in the one house. For years. You know which window sticks, which floorboard creaks. Which tap drips. The cold spots. The damp patch. You know it. Like the back of your hand. You could walk round it – blindfold. Fix a lightbulb. Make a cup of tea. In your sleep. Find your way – Upstairs. To bed. Blindfold. Then one day. One day, you’re in the house. Fixing a bulb. Leaky tap. Damp patch. Cup of tea. And you look round and there’s... There’s – a door. There’s a door there. A door you never saw before. In your house. Right there. Before you. A door. A new door. Was it always there? How could you not notice it. How could you not have seen it before? Would you open it?
Blackout.
Spotlight on NED. Watching his old tapes. Explosions on his television. Louder and louder.
Spotlight on:
I can’t sleep. I wait till Lyn’s dropped off, then I’m up, pacing. If she’s working nights, I’m up the allotment. Sitting in the shed. Waiting. Watching. (Pause.) I’m in the car in a layby. Watching the cars go by. In the car park of the Arndale. I’ve started smoking. For something to fucking do. Nine nights out of ten, nothing. Then on the tenth, there’s her car. Pulling into the car park. I get out, go over, but she’s not there. I can’t see her anywhere. Joy? Joy?
Spotlight on JOY.
NED. Dale.
DALE. Jesus. Ned. You scared me.
NED. Is that you? What are you doing here? It’s three o’clock.
DALE. Me? I couldn’t sleep.
NED. Small world. (Beat.) I just thought I’d pop up here. Run through my calculations. Dot the ‘I’s. You can’t be too careful. You’ve only got to overlook one tiny detail and you end up with egg on your face.
Beat.
DALE. Well, I best be off. You coming?
NED. No, you go on. I’m going to hang about for a bit. You know, it’s funny. Looking at this old thing. I’ve always thought she was a monstrosity. But right now, in the dark, silent, she looks almost beautiful. It’s always the same. Right before the big day, right before the drop, they always look... innocent. Pure. Like they’re begging you not to do it.
DALE. Goodnight, mate.
NED. Give my best to Lyn.
DALE. I walk back to my car and I get in and I drive. I can see him in the mirror, standing there in the dark, still, watching me drive away. I drive home, pull in the garage and she’s there. On her front lawn.
JOY. That first barbecue. I thought you were a ghost. I thought you were all ghosts. Ghouls. In the dark. Laughing. But you’re the one warm thing I’ve touched for ye
ars. The only thing that’s been there in years. I can barely look at you. (Pause.) Come with me...
Spotlight on DALE.
DALE. Where?
JOY. Tonight. I’m leaving tonight.
DALE. Where are you going? (Pause.) Where are you going? What shall I bring?
JOY. Nothing. I’ve got money.
DALE. Where are you going?
JOY. Meet me in the car park of the Arndale at midnight. Don’t bring anything. If you’re not there, you’ll have lost me. You’ll have missed me. Will you be there?
Blackout on DALE.
JOY turns. NED is there, on the couch. He doesn’t turn to look at her.
Ned. I thought you were out.
NED. I got cold. I came back.
JOY. I thought I’d go for a walk. I can’t sleep.
NED. You want to watch telly? Or we could go to bed. Come to bed, we can have a cuddle.
JOY. I need some fresh air.
NED. It’s cold out there. You sure you don’t want to come to bed?
JOY. I shan’t be long.
Pause.
NED. Well, it’ll do you good. I’ll tell you what. I’ll wait up. I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll wait for you.
Pause.
JOY. Goodnight, Ned. Sleep well.
NED. Goodnight, my love.
He watches her leave. Music. Lights fade to black.
A surtitle appears:
‘It started to rain.’
Spotlight on:
DALE. It was a combination of factors. First up, do the maths. It was one summer. Add it up... Once in the shed. Once in her car. Once in the woods. Once round hers. Four times. End of the day, the whole plan was half-baked. It was full of holes. Apart from the where, what and how, I’ve got the business to think of. I’ve got responsibilities there to thirty-odd blokes. Not to mention the kids. Did I mention the kids? Me and Lyn, we’ve got two. One of each. I’d die for those kids. They mean, they mean the absolute world to me. In any equation, they come first. So whatever it was, whatever combination of reasons, when it came to the crunch, I never showed up. I watched her leave her front door, and walk past our house, without looking up, to the end of the close. And there she stopped, at the dark end. There she stood. Still. Looking out up the main road. Just standing there, the cars whizzing by. You couldn’t help but feel for her. She stood there for thirty minutes. An hour. Then she turned round, and walked back up the street, back to her house. And went inside. And closed the door. (Beat.) Me, I went down to the kitchen, to make Lyn a hot-water bottle, nice cup of hot chocolate. And I walked out in the garden, while the kettle boiled. It had stopped raining. And there he was.
Jez Butterworth Plays Page 24