German Skerries
Page 6
JACK. ’As she told yer where we’re goyn?
MARTIN. No.
JACK (to CAROL). We’re goyn t’South Devon, aren’t we?
CAROL (smiling. To MARTIN). Yes.
MARTIN. On holiday?
JACK. Yes.
CAROL. We won’t make it if you don’t get a move-on.
MARTIN (wheeling his bike forward). Enjoy yourselves.
JACK. Tarra.
CAROL. Tarra.
MARTIN exits.
JACK (calling after him). See you this afternoon.
CAROL. No you won’t, John.
JACK. Yes, I will.
CAROL. Where’ve yer bin?
JACK. There was a flock of dunlin on the mudflats.
CAROL. I didn’t think yerd bin to Timbuktu – I’ve been ’ere ages. ’Ave yer been down there?
JACK. Where?
CAROL. You know, the steel plant.
JACK. I wen’ an’ ’ad a look.
CAROL. I bet yer did.
JACK. I wanted to ’ave a look. That’s the good news, isn’t it – they’re gonna move the pipe.
CAROL smiles.
Me birdwatchin’s safe f’ever.
He puts all his things on the grass.
CAROL. That’s good.
JACK (smiling). It is, isn’t it. The cormorants’ll be able to nest. They’re shovin’ the pipe on two ’undred yards.
CAROL (smiling). That’s really good.
JACK. Course it is.
CAROL. What was all the noise about then?
JACK. When I left the committee were gonna call the police cos of all them lads throwin’ rocks.
CAROL. Not you I hope?
JACK. No, not me. The meetin’ was goin’ on inside. Just as I was leavin’ they sent out a note, they’d won. Fantastic.
CAROL. All that trouble.
JACK. The cormorants will be able to nest. The pipe’ll be too far on to stop them. The fishermen are happy ’n’ all. Everybody’s ’appy.
CAROL. I’ve bin t’see me mam, we’re ’avin tea there before we set off.
JACK looks at her.
Don’t pull a face at me.
JACK. Seein’ as it’s the holiday.
CAROL. What else could I say when she asked?
JACK. I suppose so.
CAROL. We’ve got to get packed up.
JACK. I want to come back ’ere – there’s dunlin.
CAROL. I want to leave the house straight before we go as well – I don’t want to come back to a mess. If a don’t get it straight, that’s all I’ll think about.
JACK sits down.
Look at you.
JACK. Can yer get me a towel – a put one in the car.
CAROL. Am I your slave?
JACK. Yes.
Faintly from the distance, the bugle-like call of a herring gull.
CAROL. I’m not, you know.
She starts to exit, she stops.
I’ve ’ad it on my mind all this time an’ now I’ve forgotten.
She walks to the hut and picks up the book.
There’s a letter fo’ yer.
JACK (slightly worried). What? From work?
CAROL takes an envelope from inside the book, it has an ICI insignia embossed on it. She stands beside him.
CAROL (giving him the letter). It came in the second post. I ’ope it sez what you want it to.
JACK holds the letter.
Go on, open it.
JACK. I don’t want to. It might be bad.
CAROL. It’s your letter.
A slight pause.
JACK. ’Ere goes.
He tears open the envelope. Slowly he takes out the letter.
CAROL. Read it then.
JACK opens out the letter, he reads. His face drops.
JACK (quietly). ’E’s a bastard that man. Why couldn’ ’e tell me to me face? I saw ’im on Fridi.
CAROL takes the letter from his hand, she starts to read it.
(Upset.) Why couldn’ ’e, Carol?
A slight pause.
That about finishes me off wi’ the bloody job, I’m tellin’ yer. I was bankin’ on that. All the plans and everything. Let me see it agen.
CAROL gives JACK the letter.
CAROL. I’m sorry, love.
JACK looks at the letter.
JACK. My aptitude to work – what does that mean?
CAROL (looking over his shoulder). Is it aptitude or attitude?
JACK. Aptitude – I work bloody ’ard, Carol.
CAROL is re-reading the letter over his shoulder.
I wouldn’ve minded if ’e could ’ave told me to me bloody face.
CAROL. He says your aptitude to work is good.
JACK. It’s like a fuckin’ school report. I do know all about it, Carol, I do.
CAROL finishes reading the letter.
CAROL. Apart from the fact that he’s not going to send you on the course it’s quite a nice letter.
JACK. Nice, my arse.
CAROL (angry). Oh, shut up, John! And stop usin’ words like that. Why don’t yer listen to what he’s got t’say at the end. What does he say about O levels?
JACK is stunned into silence.
Why don’t yer?
JACK. I can’t.
CAROL. How d’you know if you’ve never tried?
JACK. A don’t ’ave t’run into a fire t’know I’d burn, do I?
CAROL. That’s not the same thing, and you know it.
JACK. Do I? I don’t.
CAROL. Stop being childish.
JACK. It’s alright f’ you, isn’t it? Fine ’igh an’ miss mighty. Wi’ everythin’ that I ’aven’ t got.
He screws the letter into a ball.
Mekks yer sick.
He gets up and walks away.
Yer can keep yer mouth shut an’ all.
CAROL looks at him. JACK has his back to her.
Silence.
CAROL. Why not do one? Just to start with?
JACK. I could do twenty million.
A slight pause.
Which one would a do?
CAROL. Do chemistry. Something you’re interested in.
JACK. Physics. It’d take me hours.
CAROL. Jus’ think ’ow you’d feel when you’d done it.
JACK. Knackered.
A slight pause.
I want t’do one more than you.
A slight pause.
(Repentant.) No, a don’t.
He turns to face her.
I probably could do physics, I know about physics. A wouldn’t pass though.
CAROL. Yer would if yer put yer mind to it, John, and concentrated.
JACK. It’s jus’ we goin’ on ’oliday – it would ’ave to come today.
CAROL. Never mind that.
JACK. All them brainy kids doin’ ’em – it’d be like goyn back to school.
CAROL. That doesn’t matter.
JACK. Well.
CAROL. Well what?
JACK. Well it would. Brainy idiots.
CAROL. You know you’re as good as any of them.
JACK. Do I?
CAROL. Of course you are.
JACK. I’m not yer see, Carol, that’s the trouble.
CAROL. You are. You’ve got to learn to believe in yourself.
JACK. ’Ow can I do that, if I can’t?
CAROL. Well you ’ave a good try f’ a start-off.
JACK. What ’appens if I can’t then?
CAROL. You’re making problems.
JACK. I’m not.
CAROL. You are, John.
JACK opens out the crumpled letter, he looks at it.
JACK. It’s a shit. D’yer think I could pass three? ’E says three.
CAROL. Yes.
A slight pause.
And if you can’t, John, at least you’d know.
A slight pause.
JACK. I wanted promotion, Carol. I really did. More then everything else. I’d ’ave even given up me birdwatching – they could ’ave built that pip
e for all I cared.
CAROL. You’ll get it, don’t worry.
JACK. I might do. Perhaps.
CAROL. There’s no perhaps about it. Half the battle with these things is confidence. Believe you will, and you will.
JACK. D’yer reckon?
CAROL. Yes.
A slight pause.
Just think how you’ll feel.
A slight pause.
JACK (smiling). Yer wanna mekk me into a snob.
CAROL. I’ll let you use that word just once more.
JACK. Come ’ere, snob.
CAROL walks to him.
I’ll rip the page with snob on from the dictionary.
CAROL. That’s twice.
JACK. I’ll do two, eh? Chemistry and physics, jus’ to prove it.
Very, very faintly, the sound of the sea can be heard rolling against the shore.
Fetch us the towel. It’s on the back seat.
CAROL. I hope you’re going to thank my dad.
JACK. I ’ave done.
CAROL. I am sorry. (Hugs him.)
JACK. Enough said, eh? I saw that old man kissin’ yer.
CAROL. I’ll get you a towel.
CAROL exits.
A slight pause.
JACK looks through his binoculars and turns round in a full circle. He takes them from round his neck, sits down, puts them on the grass and puts the letter back in the envelope. The shrill, loud ‘bleep’ of an oystercatcher.
JACK. An oystercatcher.
He raises his telescope and looks through it.
A slight pause.
CAROL enters, carrying a white towel and wearing an old German war helmet. She creeps up behind JACK , walks past him and puts her face in front of the telescope. JACK jumps out of his skin, he does a backward somersault and ends in a standing position. CAROL smiles.
Bloody ’ell – Carol.
CAROL. I found it while I was waitin’.
JACK. Phew.
CAROL laughs.
Phew. I’ll think of somethin’ t’do t’you one day – just you wait.
CAROL. ’Ere’s the towel.
JACK takes the towel.
JACK. Right.
He puts the towel over his head and acts like a ghost. He wanders about, moaning.
I am the ghost that haunts you. I am the phantom birdwatcher.
He is near the hut, he pretends to pick something up. He throws the towel off.
Right. What ’ave I got in ’ere?
CAROL (backing away). John.
JACK. I’m going to put it in your hair.
CAROL (backing away). John.
JACK (getting near her). I’m going to make you eat it – spider and chips.
CAROL. John.
JACK opens his palm, he pretends to throw, his palm is empty.
(Running away.) John.
JACK sits down and starts to clean his feet with the towel.
You’re rotten.
CAROL still has the helmet on, she sits down beside him.
JACK (smiling). I know.
CAROL (after a moment’s pause). I was rotten first, I’ll forgive you.
JACK. I want t’buy yer dad a bottle of whisky f’ lettin’ us take ’is car. We’ll get that, then I’ll pick the tent up.
CAROL. Right. I’m not tekkin’ food, I’ve decided, we’ll buy it there.
JACK. It’s a bloody long way t’drive.
CAROL. An’ we’ve gotta be at me mam’s f’ five.
JACK. We can give yer dad ’is whisky then.
CAROL notices MARTIN’s jacket which is still hanging on the nail.
CAROL. He’s left ’is jacket?
JACK is still vigorously cleaning his feet.
JACK. Has he? ’E must ’ave a memory like a sieve.
CAROL absent-mindedly looks through the pockets.
CAROL. What d’yer think we should do?
JACK. Put it in the hut – ’e’ll find it.
CAROL does so, she comes out and stands beside JACK.
CAROL. ’E didn’t know you know, John.
JACK. What about?
CAROL. About his friend – well, his son’s friend. I didn’t tell him either.
JACK starts to put on his socks. CAROL sits down beside him.
Your feet are in a hell of a state.
JACK. It doesn’t matter.
A slight pause.
CAROL. ’E told me we were a nice couple. I’ve a feelin’ ’e lives f’ this place.
She stands, walks, picks up her book and comes back.
JACK. I’m rushin’ as it is.
The shrill, loud ‘bleep’ of an oystercatcher.
JACK starts to put on his shoes.
I ’ope Salcombe’s as good as he sez it is.
The bugle-like call of a herring gull.
JACK is fastening his laces.
The sound of the flute, as before.
The lights quickly fade.
The End.
ROBERT HOLMAN
Robert Holman is a renowned and celebrated playwright in British Theatre. His plays include: Mud (Royal Court, 1974); Rooting (Traverse, 1979); Other Worlds (Royal Court, 1980); Today (RSC, 1984); The Overgrown Path (Royal Court, 1985); Making Noise Quietly (Bush, 1987, and revived at the Donmar, 2012); Across Oka (RSC, 1988); Rafts and Dreams (Royal Court, 1990); Bad Weather (RSC, 1998); Holes in the Skin (Chichester Festival Theatre, 2003); Jonah And Otto (Royal Exchange Theatre, 2008, and revived at the Park Theatre, 2014); and A Thousand Stars Explode in the Sky (co-written with David Eldridge and Simon Stephens, Lyric Hammersmith, 2010). Most recently his play A Breakfast of Eels premiered at the Print Room (2015).
Robert has been Resident Dramatist at the National Theatre and RSC. He has also written for television and radio.
A Nick Hern Book
This edition of German Skerries first published in Great Britain in 2016 by Nick Hern Books Limited, The Glasshouse, 49a Goldhawk Road, London W12 8QP, in association with the Orange Tree Theatre, Richmond, and Up in Arms
This ebook first published in 2016
German Skerries first published in Great Britain in 1977 by Heinemann Educational Books Ltd, in the volume German Skerries & Mud
German Skerries copyright © 1977, 2016 Robert Holman
Robert Holman has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work
Cover photo: Shutterstock; design: Annie Rushton
Designed and typeset by Nick Hern Books, London
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 84842 547 7 (print edition)
ISBN 978 1 78001 726 6 (ebook edition)
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