Stories

by Nina Raine

ANNA (firmly). Well, I might not have to, because – (Brandishing laptop.) this one does look really good. (Sternly.) Why don’t you actually look at these, Dad? It’s important. Look. Welsh German Israeli.

  DAD. Sounds like a sheepdog.

  DAD looks at the photo on the laptop screen skeptically. Pause. He brightens.

  …Hmmm! So this… this is…

  A sperm donor?

  ANNA. Yes.

  DAD. Hmmmm!

  …Well, he looks absolutely fine! Very handsome boy!

  Lovely open face!

  Brilliant! Go for it! Got a grin just like you, Joe.

  JOSEPH. Thanks.

  ANNA. Okay… but… okay…

  She gets up.

  Okay, suppose I do go with a sperm donor…

  The thing is, I can’t help wondering… it’s all very convenient for me, but I just keep wondering…

  …How’s the kid going to feel?

  DAD. About what?

  ANNA. About not having a dad.

  DAD. They’ll be absolutely fine!

  ANNA. But the thing is…

  She takes a breath.

  I went online, when I first started thinking about this…

  Beat.

  And I found this website… and it’s all these kids who were conceived from anonymous sperm donors writing posts… and some of them will never know who their dads are… and others can only trace them after they turn eighteen… and they’re fucking angry.

  JOSEPH. Angry with who?

  ANNA. Angry with their mothers for conceiving them –

  DAD. Oh fuck off.

  ANNA. They have this huge angst because they don’t know where half of them comes from –

  DAD. Ah, grow up! This is all hysteria!

  ANNA. But who knows, what would I have been like if I hadn’t had a dad?

  JOSEPH. Maybe you’re fucked up because you had a dad. Him.

  ANNA. That could be true, maybe that’s why I’ve been out with a series of arseholes… but at least he’s here…

  DAD. For you to blame.

  ANNA. Anyway… I have this fear that I’ll give birth to this angry little girl –

  JOSEPH. ‘Genevieve’ –

  ANNA. – who will grow up to hate me because she doesn’t know who she is, she’ll be angry with me for depriving her of a father –

  DAD (hotly). Well, if she is then you tell her to fuck off!

  ANNA. Dad –

  DAD. This is ridiculous. They’re being unreasonable. No one asks to be born. Here I am, I’m sixty-nine, I didn’t ask to be born –

  ANNA. But it’s obviously the way they feel!! Look. – What I think is, if I have to do it with an anonymous sperm donor, then I will, but I think first I’m going to have to at least try asking some actual men. Real men. If they will give me their sperm. – But not Nico.

  Beat.

  DAD. Not a good idea.

  JOSEPH. / What??

  ANNA. / You’ve just turned around a hundred and eighty degrees!

  DAD (airily). Much cleaner, simpler to do it with a sperm donor. Do it with a real bloke, you’ll have to deal with someone else’s issues, demands, bullshit, neurosis, have to agree on a name together –

  ANNA. But I thought you didn’t like the idea of a sperm donor!!

  DAD. But this one, what is he, Mr 21420, Nirvana fan, looks great. And it’ll be much easier, simpler. Take it from me.

  JOSEPH. You’re the expert.

  DAD. Well, that’s what I think. Now – (To JOSEPH.) go and let Daisy out.

  JOSEPH. Why me??

  DAD. I want to watch the football.

  JOSEPH. She’s your fucking dog!

  DAD. Don’t be cruel. Poor old Daisy. Imagine being a dog, it must be hell. All the waiting around. Like being in the war. But they can’t even smoke.

  JOSEPH. Fucking hell.

  He goes out.

  ANNA. Well, thanks, anyway. For the advice.

  DAD. No problem.

  Beat.

  I do find all this fascinating, Annie.

  ANNA. Yeah?

  DAD. Yes. It is incredible, this urge women have… a very clear, biological imperative… to sign up for, what is essentially, slavery… willing slavery, but slavery nonetheless…

  ANNA. Mmm.

  ANNA’s MOTHER comes in, holding her laptop.

  DAD. Because whatever happens, it will be you, who will be looking after the baby… you know that… because Nature stacks the odds that way… I mean just look at women’s bodies… hilariously basic… two thermos flasks and a rucksack… isn’t that right, love?

  MOTHER (somewhat vaguely). Oh, yes, absolutely… Is the wifi better in here do you think, I can’t get anything in the study… Zach was trying to Skype me from New York…

  Her laptop booms out the ringtone of Skype.

  Oh there he is! (Answering the Skype.) Zach? Zach?

  DAD. Christ. He’s insatiable!

  ZACH’s voice comes from the laptop

  ZACH. Mum? Can you hear me? You’ve frozen.

  MOTHER (speaking over him). Zach, can you hear me? You’ve frozen. (Speaking loudly.) I’m going upstairs where the reception is better.

  She goes out.

  DAD. Fucking hell. He was just on the Skype to me! For an hour. Telling me the plot of the film he’d just seen, minute by minute. I might as well have watched it.

  ANNA. He’s lonely. He’s just broken up with his boyfriend.

  Beat.

  DAD. Listen, Pips. Listen to me. It’s not a tragedy if you don’t have one. It’s important to realise that. It’s not a tragedy that Tom left you.

  Beat.

  Having a child who dies when they’re four – that’s a tragedy. You’ve got to understand… Having a child feels like exposing yourself to risk.

  Anything can happen to them before they’re forty.

  And just when you think you can stop worrying about them, they turn forty. And they start worrying. That they haven’t had a child.

  You don’t ever stop worrying.

  Love is worry.

  Scene Three

  38

  A bedroom. ANNA and TOM face each other. TOM is distraught, weeping. He is in shorts and trainers – running gear.

  ANNA. Right…

  TOM. I just feel like… I’ve been feeling really unsure… and it’s getting… I can’t ignore it any more…

  ANNA. I see…

  TOM. I feel like… I’m… heading for some great unhappiness…

  He starts to weep again in great sobs.

  ANNA. But maybe that’s because… you… you’re making a mistake… right now… maybe that’s the great unhappiness…

  TOM. All I know is that I don’t… I mean I was crying when we went to the hospital… I’m crying now…

  ANNA. I know…

  TOM. I just don’t feel sure enough…

  ANNA. But Tom, we’ve made the… we’ve made them now…

  TOM. I know…

  ANNA. I can’t just… throw the embryos away… tomorrow is when they put them in…

  TOM. I know…

  ANNA. What do you want to happen?

  TOM. I don’t know…

  ANNA. I mean, Tom, honestly, I don’t think anyone ever feels sure, especially not men… my dad, I told my dad that you were having doubts and he sympathises, he never wanted kids, I was a mistake, he was deeply depressed, but once they had me, he completely turned around, you won’t feel sure until the baby is out, that’s perfectly natural and normal –

  TOM. I don’t want to do it not feeling sure.

  ANNA. I don’t think men ever feel sure, Tom, believe me…

  TOM. It can’t be right if I feel this scared, I have to listen to the way I’m feeling…

  ANNA. But Tom, you’re talking like we’re about to commit a murder or do something evil, all we’re doing is trying to make a baby, we’ve been trying for two years and you’ve been fine, I think it was just the hospital and the fact that it was all suddenly so medica
lised, the NHS, of course it’s going to feel unnatural and weird –

  TOM. No, when we had to talk to that doctor, I felt he was looking right into me, he knew I wasn’t sure and I just felt like ‘He’s right’, he looked right into my soul and saw me for the faker I was.

  Beat.

  I haven’t been fine. I’ve been having doubts for a while now, and I don’t think I should ignore them any more.

  Beat.

  I just think, what if, okay, we’re all right now, but what if we’re happy for ten years and then I leave you?

  ANNA.…Well, that could happen, I can’t promise to you it wouldn’t happen, no one gets a guarantee.

  TOM. Isn’t it more of a cruelty to leave you and a child after ten years than to listen to my doubts now?

  Beat.

  ANNA. Not necessarily…

  Pause.

  TOM. Sometimes…

  …I look at you…

  …and I wonder ‘Is Anna looking older today?’

  Beat. ANNA is winded by this.

  ANNA. Right…

  Beat.

  The thing is… I will get older. I will look older. There’s kind of nothing I can do about that.

  (Somewhat sharply.) And I know there’s a big age gap between us, but actually, you will get older as well.

  TOM.…And I think about other women. I look at other women on the street and I find them attractive.

  ANNA. But Tom, that’s completely normal, for fuck’s sake!

  TOM. I didn’t when we were first going out.

  ANNA. But that’s the way it works! You start off –

  TOM. I think if I really felt enough for you I wouldn’t be thinking about other women.

  Beat.

  What if I want to sleep with someone else?

  ANNA. Well… people… do end up sleeping with other people.

  Beat.

  I would fucking deal with it. You can’t have a relationship for years and years and years and things not happen.

  TOM. Yes you can. Look at my parents. They’ve been married for decades, neither of them has done anything. Their relationship is perfect, in fact it’s intimidating to me how perfect it is –

  ANNA. For fuck’s sake, that’s because your parents present you with a Disney idea of… I’m… okay, I don’t want to slag off your parents.

  Beat.

  Look, if it makes you feel less panicky… obviously, I wouldn’t want you to, I would hate it, but if you did sleep with someone else, I’d like to think it wouldn’t be the… I’d try to deal with it. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. Would that make you feel less trapped?

  You could sleep with someone else if you wanted to.

  Beat.

  TOM. Yeah, I don’t want that kind of bohemian thing. Your parents, they… but I don’t want that – compromised thing.

  ANNA explodes in frustration.

  ANNA. God, Tom, don’t you realise how rare it is to find someone who makes you laugh, who your brain connects with, you fancy, who doesn’t bore you?? It took me twenty years to find you! It terrifies me because you will find out and it will be too late, that it’s not just me, you will always notice other women, whoever you’re with, it is human nature – you just don’t realise because you’re too young –

  TOM has started to well up during this.

  TOM. But –

  ANNA. And you can write ten thousand narratives about what might happen! Yes, you might leave me in ten years, or twenty, or – it’s all hypothetical but this, now, is real –

  TOM (tearfully, bewildered).…How can you be so strong? How can you be so sure?

  ANNA. Because I’ve had a thousand shit relationships! I did the sleeping with people, in my twenties, it was a waste of time, I would gladly have skipped that whole decade, early thirties too, please, take it from me, you are missing nothing –

  TOM. But I can’t use your experience! You tell me all that again and again, it doesn’t help me, I can’t know it or believe it just from listening what happened to you. I have to live it, I have to know it for myself.

  Beat.

  I have to… I think I have to go… I have to leave…

  He wells up again.

  ANNA.…You’re in your running gear…

  TOM hugs her, bursts into fresh sobs.

  TOM. Oh my God… I can’t believe I’m doing this… I love you so much…

  (Into her shoulder.) I have to go…

  He weeps.

  You’ve taught me everything… You’re everything to me… I love you so much…

  Comes away from her, still weeping, looks at her, bewildered.

  If only I always felt this intensely about you. Then I’d be sure.

  He leaves.

  Scene Four

  38

  ANNA sits on a bed with a little GIRL, sifting through a pile of children’s books that the little GIRL has brought her.

  ANNA. Okay, so shall I read to you or shall I make one up?

  GIRL. Make one up.

  ANNA. Yes. Why don’t we start by reading one and that’ll give me time to make one up.

  GIRL. No.

  Beat.

  ANNA. This one?

  GIRL. No.

  ANNA. What about –

  GIRL. No.

  ANNA. Well, let’s just start by reading one… to give me time, okay, to think of a story, yeah, because this one looks great… and then I’ll make one up for you. Okay?

  And you do your teeth when I’m reading it. Here.

  She gives the little GIRL her toothbrush, squirting a bit of toothpaste on it.

  Mmmm… Strawberry toothpaste!

  She settles herself with the book.

  ‘Are You My Mother?’

  The GIRL curls up next to her on the bed with the toothbrush in her mouth like a lollipop stick.

  ‘A mother bird sat on her egg.

  The egg jumped.

  “Oh oh!” said the mother bird. “My baby” – ’

  GIRL. No, it’s ‘Uh-oh.’ ‘Uh-oh.’

  Beat.

  ANNA. Right. ‘“My baby will be here! He will want to eat.”’

  GIRL. You didn’t say it. ‘Uh-oh’.

  ANNA. Well, I’m just making it up a bit, aren’t I. Like you wanted.

  ANNA turns a page.

  ‘So away she went.

  The egg jumped. It jumped, and jumped, and jumped!

  Out came the baby bird!’

  GIRL. This is your room now.

  ANNA.…Yes, I suppose it is.

  GIRL (stretching out her arms). I like stretching my arms.

  ANNA.…Yes.

  She carries on reading.

  ‘“Where is my mother?” said the baby bird.’

  GIRL. This is from when I was little.

  ANNA. ‘…He did not know what his mother looked like. He came to a kitten. “Are you my mother?” he said to the’ –

  GIRL. Why are you staying with us?

  ANNA. Well, because I’m… between places at the moment.

  GIRL. We bought this house in 2006. This is our spare room. My daddy buyed the bed.

  ANNA. I know.

  ‘The kitten and the hen were not his mother. Did he have a mother? “I did have a mother,” said the baby bird. – “I” – ’

  GIRL. Silly.

  ANNA. ‘“I know I did. I have to find her. I will. I WILL!”’

  The little GIRL forcibly closes the book.

  Oh dear. We didn’t even finish it.

  GIRL. Make up a story. A scary story.

  ANNA.…Hm, okay, well, what story shall I tell you?

  GIRL (a fact). There’s water in the air and you can’t see it.

  ANNA. Yes. Even in this room there’s water in the air.

  GIRL. Some buried treasure floats.

  ANNA. Does it!

  GIRL. How do you know Mummy?

  ANNA. Ah, well, Mummy is my friend and we were at school together. And when I first moved to London the first person I lived with was your mummy a
nd an old old lady called Natasha and she was Russian.

  GIRL. Why was she rushing?

  ANNA. Well, because –

  GIRL. Because she was late?

  ANNA. Because she’d come here from Russia.

  GIRL. Why?

  ANNA. Because she was Jewish and the Nazis – erm, because of the war. And this big old house belonged to Natasha and we lived up on the top floor and there were no radiators. So we got very very cold. And this old lady Natasha spoke with a Russian accent –

  GIRL. Is this my story?

  ANNA. Yes.

  GIRL. But you’re not making it up.

  ANNA. Well, I am and I’m not.

  GIRL. You’re not.

  ANNA. But that’s the best kind of story. Because it’s interesting… because you know it’s true.

  GIRL. Why is that interesting?

  ANNA. I don’t know. Anyway Natasha had a poodle. And one day the poodle was cross about something and he came up to our floor and… he did a pee and poo where he wasn’t supposed to!

  GIRL. Where?!

  ANNA. Well, he got up on to our landing and first he did a poo there…

  GIRL. A poo?!

  The little GIRL covers her mouth with her hands, stands up, wobbling, on the bed.

  ANNA. And your mummy had all her shoes out in a row, you know the way she does, and he pee’d on all your mummy’s best high-heeled shoes!!

  The GIRL shrieks with laughter, starts to jump up and down on the bed.

  GIRL. What – did – Mummy – do?!

  ANNA. She tried to wash them. Actually she moved out quite soon after that because she met Daddy. Sweetie, don’t jump up and down –

  GIRL. But – I – like – it – !

  ANNA. Stop it or I won’t be able to tell the story –

  The GIRL slowly stops bouncing.

  …And… After that every time someone came to stay the night with me the dog would bark when they went up the stairs.

  GIRL. Who stayed the night?

  ANNA.…Friends and things.

  Beat.

  GIRL. It always rains on me because I’m lucky.

  The GIRL starts to gently bounce again.

  ANNA. Mm… that’s a good way to look at it. No bouncing.

  The bouncing persists.

  GIRL. I want something nice to eat…

  ANNA. Not now. In the morning.

  She looks at her watch.

  …Aren’t you tired yet?

  The GIRL stops bouncing, gradually, but remains standing.

  GIRL. But what happened next?

  Beat.

  ANNA. Um. Well. Well, she got older and older.