Plays from Vault

by Florence Keith-Roach

  13.

  ROSIE

  Did you ever have that feeling when you were little,

  When you really liked someone,

  And wanted them to be your friend,

  And you tried so hard to be like them,

  And get them to like you,

  And you pretended to like all the things they liked,

  And laughed at all their jokes,

  And you started talking like them,

  And behaving like them,

  And then by some miracle they sort of let you be their friend?

  And you got to spend more time with them,

  And suddenly you’re in their circle and sitting with them in citizenship,

  And you’re all wearing matching glittery eyeliner,

  And you start to hate their other friends,

  And you’re jealous of their other friends,

  And every time you see them with someone else you wonder what it is about them that they like?

  And you wonder who they’re texting all the time,

  And you start wondering what they’re thinking when they’re quiet,

  And whether they hate your perfume because they always sort of wrinkle their noses when you come near them.

  And you start to wonder if they’d notice if you weren’t there,

  Or if they’d miss you?

  Because it’s always you they forget,

  When they’re making plans,

  And it’s always you they leave out,

  When they’ve got too much on their hands.

  And you’re trying so hard to get everything right,

  And make it look like you don’t mind,

  But then something happens,

  Something bad,

  And they look at you,

  Like you’re the only one who can help them,

  And like they really need your help.

  And you feel special

  Because it’s you they’ve chosen

  To sort this mess out,

  So you ignore the fact that your arm feels like it’s on fire,

  And you try not to think about the buzzing in your brain,

  Or the sick in your throat,

  And you try to think in order of priority.

  Because maybe if you get everything done in time,

  Maybe she’ll forget she felt so cross with you a moment ago

  And maybe it will all be okay.

  And maybe she’ll ask you to come for dinner,

  And you can pretend she never called you a cunt

  In front of all those people.

  Things I’ve said to myself in the last twenty-nine minutes:

  Rosie have you been in a fight?

  Because your arms are shaking and your eyes have been twitching all night.

  Rosie you need to ignore the pain in your neck, start the day as you mean to go on and try not to make another mistake.

  Rosie the crash wasn’t your fault

  You looked in your mirror and the other driver didn’t brake

  Rosie you’ve got to tell Ben you can’t come to his birthday and you’ve got to think of a better reason than ‘Wren needs tickets to Birdie.’

  Rosie when are you going to tell Lucy about the crash?

  And are you really all right or does it actually hurt to get dressed because you’ve got whiplash?

  Rosie try not to think about the way she laughed, when you ran to get her a drink, fell and hit your head on the sink.

  She was laughing with you and you would have too if you’d seen the way you flew through the air and landed in a heap by the chair.

  Rosie you need to sleep

  Rosie you need to eat

  Rosie have you seen your eyes?

  They’re hollow and dark and it’s no surprise.

  Rosie it’s five thirty-one and you’ve got fourteen minutes until you have to be up and about.

  Rosie you’ve been up all night,

  So just let your body rest,

  Then get up and smile like everything is alright.

  We all make sacrifices.

  Don’t pretend that you haven’t,

  Some people choose to work,

  And others choose to support.

  Some people stay married,

  And some people get divorced.

  And some of us are leaders,

  And some of us are not,

  But there’s no shame in that,

  There’s no shame in settling with your lot.

  There’s something to be said for knowing your limits

  And there’s a lot to be said for knowing your strengths.

  And maybe hers is in her confidence,

  She chose to be a leader

  And she chose her husband well,

  She knew what she was doing

  And he’ll follow her to hell.

  She might not have any friends,

  And she might not be a mother,

  But she’s a woman in control

  And she’s a woman like no other.

  Sometimes you wonder if she was bullied at school –

  Because you’ve heard people say that often bullies are people who have been bullied in the past.

  And you think she must have learnt this from somewhere.

  Because one moment it can feel like you are the most interesting and thrilling person in the room

  And like she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else and like every word you say is music to her ears

  And the next moment it feels like you’re sticking a rusty nail in the sole of her foot when you look at her.

  Like every word you say is acid on her tongue

  And you’re making everything she is trying to do much harder for her.

  And you think to yourself that that isn’t normal

  That you’ve never seen anyone change themselves or the way they make you feel so quickly,

  That you’ve never been made to feel this way by anyone before

  And so it can’t be her fault.

  Someone must have made her this way,

  Or maybe it’s just you,

  Maybe you are the problem,

  And you think to yourself,

  Maybe you just aren’t very good at this,

  Maybe you should be trying harder

  And doing more

  And sleeping less

  And thinking more

  And fussing less.

  Maybe she’s right

  And it’s not that hard

  And you need to grow up

  And you need to look smart,

  Because you might have been electrocuted,

  But at the end of the day you’re not dead.

  Your heart’s still beating and your brain’s in your head.

  So just pull yourself together and sort this shit out,

  Get Timmy some coke and get out of the house.

  You’ve got an hour or so before Wren arrives,

  So call every bed shop within a thirty-minute drive.

  Maybe there’s someone you know who could help?

  Grace works near Whole Foods and could sort that bit out,

  She knows what you’re dealing with and she’ll understand,

  She could get you the formula and that’d be grand,

  But then you think about Whole Foods and all you see is the food,

  Because you haven’t had anything since that bowl of soup.

  And you feel your tummy rumble,

  And you remember the shock,

  And the pain in your arm that you thought you’d forgot,

  And there in that moment you realise something,

  That for one fucked-up moment you thought that you should –

  Just carry on with your day and shut up and put up

  But Rosie, you think,

  It’s not the end of the world,

  If Wren’s bed doesn’t arrive

  And it’s not a disaster if Timmy can’t get high,

  But it would be a shame if you ignored the fact,


  That a thousand volts of electricity has just shot down your back,

  And it would be a shame if by the end of the day,

  The bed had arrived and the coke was on its way,

  But you’re on the floor with your face turning grey

  And a quiet still space where your beating heart lay.

  The End.

  CORNERMEN

  Oli Forsyth

  For N.E.O.N.

  ‘Now, whoever has the courage and a strong and collected spirit in his breast, let him come forward, lace on the gloves, and put up his hands.’

  Virgil

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to Charlie Butt, Fenella Dawnay, Julia Tyrrell, Lucy Danser, Ed Harris, David Hall, David Byrne and New Diorama Theatre, Mark Burford and The Ring Boxing Club, Stewart Pringle and Old Red Lion Theatre, The Pleasance Theatre Trust, Otherplace Brighton and the VAULT Festival Team.

  O.F.

  Cornermen premiered at the Old Red Lion, London, on 30 July 2015. It was first performed at VAULT Festival, London, on 2 March 2016, with the following cast:

  MICKEY

  James Barbour

  DREW

  Jesse Rutherford

  JOEY

  Oli Forsyth

  SID

  Andrew Livingstone

  Director

  Joe Lichtenstein

  Producer

  Oli Forsyth

  Lighting and Sound Technician

  Adam Bellamy

  Video Editor and Image Design

  David Hall

  Characters

  MICKEY

  DREW

  JOEY

  SID

  Scene One

  All four actors sit, ready, in a line of four stools behind a canvas on the floor. The canvas is the stage, whenever an actor takes to the canvas they are ‘on stage’, when they exit the canvas they are, in effect, invisible. The lights focuses in a square of light onto the canvas as MICKEY takes centre stage.

  MICKEY. It’s cyclical this boxing game, keeps on turning, that’s why it’s all rounds and rings. The second one lot are done, the next generation are starting all over again, heading to the same place in the same way. It’s because we love it. The only reason we know David beat Goliath is because everyone who watched kept talking about it. Make two people fight and the spectators will come. But no one wants to watch an old fighter. We like young blood. So when you’ve thrown your best shots and you don’t move as well as you used to, that wheel will take you right back to where you started, poor with no prospects, and now twenty years older. So every boxer has a choice, either they stay on the wheel and hope their time at the top gets them enough for the journey back down. Or, they can get off, and use that wheel to take them places.

  Transition. MICKEY returns for his stool as the scene moves into ‘The Pub’ where MICKEY, DREW and JOEY sit searching for ideas. They have been here for some time.

  JOEY. Mark Francis?

  DREW. He quit.

  JOEY. What about his brother?

  DREW. He quit too.

  JOEY. Wasn’t there a cousin? Swear those boys had a cousin… Paddy?

  DREW. Peter?

  MICKEY. Paul. And he quit at around the same time.

  DREW. Besides, none of them were exactly champions, were they?

  MICKEY. We’re not after champions, are we? We just need someone who can put on a show and sell a few tickets.

  JOEY. And stay on his feet.

  Beat.

  What about Ricky Mayer?

  DREW. He’s got to be about forty now, we don’t want that.

  JOEY. Well, at the moment we’ve got no one so let’s not discount him just yet.

  DREW. We can do better than a punch-drunk pensioner.

  JOEY. Oh, can we? Well, if you’ve got a young, athletic heavyweight stashed away that wants to sign with us then do point him out, Drew. But until he shows up I say we approach Mayer.

  MICKEY. He won’t do it. Next fight’s his last.

  JOEY. How do you know?

  MICKEY. I asked him a few months ago. What about Shane Andrews?

  DREW. Ah poor bloke.

  JOEY. Shane?

  DREW. Yep.

  JOEY. Why?

  DREW. Rick Morris put him to sleep in the second about a year back and he hasn’t lasted longer than four rounds since then.

  MICKEY. Well, what about Rick Morris?

  DREW. He quit.

  Collective beat.

  JOEY. Christ alive, seven years on the circuit and everyone we knew has quit.

  DREW. Or died.

  JOEY. Or is shit.

  MICKEY. Sam Coulson found God.

  JOEY (shocked). He didn’t.

  MICKEY. Yeah. Set up a gym in a prison teaching young guys how to box.

  DREW. Can’t hold that against him.

  MICKEY. Offered me a job couple of years ago… wish I’d taken it right about now.

  DREW. Freddie Baker?

  JOEY. Quit.

  MICKEY. Got knocked out by Poulter last year and packed it in not long after. Good call if you ask me, it was starting to show. How about Saul Burton?

  Beat.

  DREW. He’s not up for it, Mick.

  MICKEY. What? He’s far too young to pack it in, good fighter too. What’s his problem?

  DREW. No, he’s still boxing it’s just… he had some trust issues about us, about the group.

  MICKEY. Trust issues?

  DREW. Yep.

  Beat.

  MICKEY. With me?

  DREW. Yeah. Well, with all of us really.

  JOEY. Oh, terrific.

  MICKEY. Why?

  DREW. He said there was a suggestion we don’t treat our boxers as well as we should.

  MICKEY. He really said that? What? Because one fighter gets hurt on our watch suddenly we can’t be trusted? I mean, Jesus. We make a couple of bad calls and they turn me into a villain!

  JOEY. I know, Mick, it was our names getting smeared as well.

  MICKEY. But it’s me that prats like Saul Burton want nothing to do with. They don’t understand. You have to risk things from time to time in life. I mean this isn’t golf, it’s boxing for Christ’s sake –

  DREW. Look, all we need to do is sign someone who wins a few fights and moves up the rankings a bit, then all will be forgotten.