Kristina I think we want something small.
Julie I’m sorry I was so rude to Jean just then. I don’t know what’s wrong with me at the moment. It’s as though when I open my mouth someone else has the keys to what I’m saying. Like I’m a sort of puppet of the worst version of myself. Does that make sense? It’s as though my mouth opens and I –
Kristina (gentle, kind) It’s okay.
They are still for a moment. Then Julie looks up.
Julie Do you even like me?
Before she can answer Jean re-enters; he has put a flower in his shirt buttonhole.
Très gentil, monsieur Jean. Très gentil.
Jean Vous voulez plaisanter, madame.
Julie Et vous voulez parler français. Where did you learn that?
Jean My mother’s from Côte d’Ivoire. Where did you?
Kristina’s phone rings. She answers, speaking Portuguese. She goes to a room off the kitchen to continue the conversation. It becomes clear she is speaking to a child.
Julie She sounds excited.
Jean Her son started school today.
Julie That’s wonderful. In Salvador?
Jean nods.
Such a beautiful place.
Beat.
Have you been there?
Jean Not yet.
Beat.
Julie You look better without the jacket. Tu sembles être en forme.
Jean You flatter me.
Julie Flatter you?
Jean (dry) My natural modesty forbids me to believe that you would say such pleasantries to someone like me. So I assume you either exaggerate or have an agenda. Either way. Flattery.
Julie Your English can be rather formal, can’t it?
Is it all those long drives with tycoons whispering in the back seats? I bet you pick up a phrase or two in your line of work. I’m surprised you can’t speak Russian by now. Or maybe you can. Maybe you’re fluent.
He doesn’t reply.
How long have you been working here?
Jean You know how long I’ve been working here.
Julie Do I?
Jean Yes.
Julie Not exactly.
Jean You had just left university.
Julie Which one?
Jean Five years ago.
Julie That long? It can’t have been that long.
Beat.
You’re right. It was then.
We’ve known each other a long time.
Jean In a way.
Julie What do you mean ‘in a way’?
Jean In that we don’t really know each other at all.
Although I remember you. Then. I have a particular memory.
Julie Of what?
Jean I’ll tell you another time.
Julie There might not be another time.
Jean Don’t say that.
Kristina laughs loudly down the phone. Julie nods in her direction.
Julie She’s good.
He doesn’t reply.
Is she? Good?
He doesn’t reply.
Sit down.
Jean (sarcastic) Am I allowed to?
Julie Don’t be ridiculous.
He stares at her for a beat, then sits.
Wait.
We hear Kristina still on the phone as she takes the dog out.
Get me something to drink first.
Jean What do you want?
Julie Whatever’s left.
He rifles for a drink, finds a half-empty bottle of champagne. He pours her a glass.
Thank you.
She holds it.
Aren’t you having one?
He doesn’t reply.
I don’t want to drink on my own.
Jean I’m driving.
Julie It’s one drink.
Go on.
She won’t mind.
Jean hesitates, then pours himself a glass.
Thank you. Let’s toast.
Jean To what?
Julie To me.
He raises his eyebrows.
Do you think that’s narcissistic?
He doesn’t reply.
It is my birthday after all. The day of my birth. Someone should toast me. And given the circumstances, it might as well be me.
Jean doesn’t move.
Don’t make me beg.
He raises his glass.
To Julie.
Thank you.
Now. Kiss my …
He hesitates. Then comes closer. She leans towards him. Very close.
Foot.
Jean flicks her a look. Hesitates. Then grasps her foot.
They stay in that position for a moment. Then there is the sound of someone running past the kitchen door. Jean springs up.
What’s wrong?
Jean I thought I heard someone come down.
Julie So?
Jean They’re not your friends, you know.
Julie What do you mean?
Jean You didn’t notice how some of them were looking at you? What they were saying?
Julie What were they saying?
Jean hesitates.
Tell me.
Jean I don’t want to hurt you.
Julie Then why bring it up? If you didn’t want to hurt me then why bring it up?
I said tell me.
Jean You need to be more aware. In a room.
Julie What do you mean?
Jean You don’t want people taking advantage.
Julie What if I don’t care. If they take. Advantage.
They are close. Jean flicks an anxious look in the direction of Kristina’s exit.
Jean This doesn’t look good.
Julie What?
Jean Us. Drinking together. Alone.
Julie Don’t be so Victorian. Relax. It’s fine.
She opens her wallet and racks up two lines. She does hers. He doesn’t do his. She stares at him challengingly. After a moment she does his too.
You look worried.
He doesn’t reply.
Are you? Worried?
He doesn’t reply.
Your face …
He checks his phone. Nothing.
Are you waiting to be summoned?
He doesn’t reply.
You are, aren’t you?
He doesn’t reply.
Jesus. Can’t he just get a taxi for once?
He doesn’t reply.
Anyway, doesn’t it get boring? The whole beck-and-call thing.
Jean This looks –
Julie Don’t change the subject.
Jean I’m serious. You know what I mean.
She inches closer, he moves away.
Julie No, I don’t.
He doesn’t respond.
Tell me. What does it look like?
Jean It looks …
Inappropriate.
Julie Is it possible that you’ve made yourself believe something?
Jean What?
She gets close.
Julie That I’m falling for you?
Jean It’s not that.
Closer.
Julie What is it then?
A Partygoer stumbles into the room, they move apart. The Partygoer grabs a drink and exits.
Jean People might not believe it was your choice.
Julie You don’t mean that.
He replies by not replying.
That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?
Jean Is it?
Julie Yes.
Beat.
Or perhaps I think more highly of ‘people’ than you do.
Jean I imagine you do.
Julie I said perhaps.
Jean smiles.
Why are you smiling?
Jean Do you really want to know?
Julie I asked, didn’t I?
Jean Because you’re naive.
Julie I know.
Do you think I don’t know that?
But I don’t think that’s the right word.
Really.
For what I am.
<
br /> Jean What is?
Julie ‘Strange’.
I feel.
Strange.
Jean You’re strange then.
Julie Thank you.
She takes him in.
So are you.
So is everything.
I mean, what is this, what’s going on?
She touches her own skin.
What are we?
She shivers.
Strange.
Beat.
All of it.
Beat.
And the more you think about it. The stranger it gets.
Jean What?
Julie Everything.
Jean What do you mean?
Julie I have a recurring dream, you know. That I’m inside something. Something warm and dark. And I can’t really move. But that’s alright. I feel. Good. In the warm dark. I feel held somehow. Compressed. And I can’t even tell where I end or begin because whatever is pressing against me also is me. I’m everything and nothing. Atomised. In the warm dark. But then I hear a sound. It starts quietly. Just a little scratching. But then it gets louder and louder and it sounds like metal on china like forks on plates like hundreds of people’s cutlery scraping and banging on empty plates. Then the light comes. And whatever was keeping me still isn’t there any more. My arms flail slick with something except they’re not arms they’re wings and when I try to scream all I can hear is a rasping screech.
And just once, when I woke from this dream. There was a feather in my mouth.
Beat.
It must have been from my pillow.
Beat.
Have you ever dreamt anything like that?
Jean No. I usually dream that I’m moving.
Julie What do you mean?
Jean That I’m going from one place to another.
Julie I know what moving means. What was the dream about –
Jean I was trying to explain.
Julie Go on.
Jean I dream that I’m constantly moving. That I’m trying to get my grip, trying to grab, but every time I do, there’s nothing. I can smell it, I can feel it, but I can’t hold it.
Julie Grab what? Hold what?
Jean I don’t know.
Beat.
Julie Why are we standing here talking about dreams? We’re awake, let’s be awake! Let’s go on the roof. Let’s watch the sun come up.
They hear a sound from the party offstage. They move quickly apart. In the action a glass smashes. They both kneel to clean it up. Jean cuts his finger.
You’re bleeding.
Julie takes his arm and sits him down.
Stay still.
She moves even closer.
Jean (warningly) Julie –
Julie Monsieur Jean –
Jean Attention. Je ne suis qu’un homme.
Julie sings a song under her breath as she tends to his finger. She finishes. He stands. She stands and steps closer to him.
Listen to me.
She ignores him.
Listen to me.
She looks up at him.
It’ll be your own fault.
Julie What will?
Jean Don’t play the child at thirty-two.
Julie I’m thirty actually.
Fine. Thirty-three.
Like Jesus.
Jean I mean it. Don’t toy with me.
Julie I’m not toying with anyone.
Jean There’s only so much I can take –
Julie (mock horror) I’m almost afraid.
Jean steps forward, he attempts to pull her to him.
Julie slaps him across the face.
He steps back, shocked.
I told you I was almost afraid.
Jean Did you mean that? To do that?
Julie Yes.
Kristina enters. She puts the dog lead away. She takes a moment too long.
Jean How was he?
Kristina Okay.
She turns to them.
I think.
None of his friends are in his class. But he’ll get used to that. Make new ones. Anyway.
Small pause. She takes them in.
Is there anything else?
Julie shakes her head.
Are you sure?
Julie No. Thank you. You’ve been brilliant.
Beat.
I’m sorry it’s gone on so late.
Kristina As long as you’ve had fun.
Beat.
Well, if you don’t need anything. I’m going to bed.
Small pause. Jean doesn’t move. Kristina kisses Jean goodnight.
(To Julie.) Well, don’t stay up too late.
(To Jean.) Let me know when everyone’s gone.
She exits.
Jean She’s right. It’s late.
Julie Or early.
Over this sequence Julie dims the lights. She plays a song on her phone. She pours another drink and dances a little to the music.
Jean Late.
Julie Technically, it’s early.
Jean I should eject the final guests.
Julie Why would you do that?
Jean Because I don’t want to leave you with those people still here.
Julie My ‘friends’.
Jean Go to bed.
Julie You’re not my nanny.
Jean Then don’t act like you need one.
Jean Do you want him to see you like this when he comes back? I don’t think that’s a good idea –
Julie Who’s to say he’s coming back at all? He was meant to be here hours ago.
Beat.
Who’s to say his merger hasn’t turned into a little celebration in his pied-à-terre behind the office?
She watches his expression.
You think I don’t know about that place?
He says nothing.
My point is, who’s to say we haven’t actually got all the time in the world?
Jean takes out his phone as she’s talking. Nothing.
See?
So you can’t use that excuse.
Not yet. Anyway.
Jean He’s not a bad man.
Julie Excuse me?
Jean I said he’s not a bad man.
Julie That depends, doesn’t it? On your definition of bad.
Beat.
And I’m starting to suspect your definition is a little. Loose.
Beat.
Sorry. I’m showing off now, aren’t I? I’m being garrulous.
Beat.
There was a thing they used to say at my school. When it was bedtime and everyone got hyperactive the teacher would come in and crow, ‘It’s late, you’re tired, you’re showing off.’ And that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Oh God, I’ve come full circle.
Jean He’s working. He works hard.
Julie I sort of prefer the alternative, to be honest. At least then he’s having some fun. If he’s not going to show up he might as well be tearing some girl apart on those Egyptian cotton sheets.
They’re four hundred count. I saw the receipt.
There’s the sound of a group of people leaving. Julie cocks her head to listen.
People are going now anyway. There’s another party.
Jean Now?
Julie East. Well, the dregs of one.
They listen. The house sounds quiet.
See.
Jean I should check the house is secure.
Julie (mocking) That the house is secure?
Jean Yes.
Julie The house is fine.
Jean It’s my job to make sure it’s secure.
Julie Your job is to drive my father. Why are you even here tonight anyway? Oh sorry, I forgot. You’re sticking the maid.
He stands. Angry.
Joking. I was joking.
Beat.
She’s not technically the maid.
Jean I’m here because he asked me to make sure this didn’t get out of control. I’m here because I’m working.
Julie You could have waited in the car. I would
have let you know if anything happened. You didn’t have to sit down here all night long –
Jean Yes. You’re right. I should have done.
He makes to leave.
Julie I didn’t mean that.
He stops. Turns.
I’m sorry.
He nods but continues leaving.
Wait.
Jean stops.
(Desperate.) Have you ever had your heart broken?
He turns.
Lost somebody you love?
He doesn’t reply.
I didn’t think so –
Jean Why are you asking me that?
Julie Because you seem happy.
Jean Do I?
Julie Yes.
Beat.
Well, sort of.
Jean What’s that got to do with it?
Julie Tell me I’ll feel better.
Jean You’ll feel better.
Julie (desperate) Tell me I’ll feel better.
Jean You’ll feel better.
Julie You don’t know that. No one can actually know that.
Jean These things pass.
Julie Yes. I suppose they do.
Jean I’ve felt sick from it before.
Julie What?
Jean Love.
Julie You?
Jean Why are you surprised?
Julie You don’t exactly seem like someone who gives much away.
Jean You don’t know me.
Julie I said ‘seem’.
Julie Who was it?
Jean is silent.
Who was she?
He hesitates. She retracts.
Fine –
Jean You.
She steps back.
Julie How funny.
Jean That was what I didn’t want to tell you before.
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