Bond plays: 8: born; people; chair; existence; the under room 9781408141441

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Edward Bond Plays: 8 Born, People, Chair, Existence, The Under Room, Freedom and Drama Born: In this tragic epic for the twenty-first century set in a de-humanised world of surveillance and terror, Luke asks his question but finds no oracle to answer it. People: A young man searches in a wasteland run by army gangs. He knows neither his past nor his identity in this exploration of the complexities of guilt and finally of modern innocence. Chair: A repressive society where all compassion is a crime, all acts outside the prescribed norm suspicious and even the misuse of an ordinary chair may bring catastrophe … Existence: After a night out with his mates a man walks home. In the street he chooses a door and breaks into a room where someone sits waiting for him in the dark … and where he stumbles to the edge of his universe. The Under Room: ‘A work of unflinching purity and brutality as it plays out a series of choices and betrayals … It is an intricate puzzle that is compelling in both its intellectual and emotional intensity’ Guardian Also included in this volume is the essay Freedom and Drama. Edward Bond was born and educated in London. His plays include The Pope’s Wedding (Royal Court Theatre, 1962), Saved (Royal Court, 1965), Early Morning (Royal Court, 1968), Lear (Royal Court, 1971), The Sea (Royal Court, 1973), The Fool (Royal Court, 1975), The Woman (National Theatre, 1978), Restoration (Royal Court, 1981), Summer (National Theatre, 1982), The War Plays (RSC at the Barbican Pit, 1985), In the Company of Men (Paris, 1992; RSC at the Barbican Pit, 1996), Tuesday (BBC Schools TV, 1993), At the Inland Sea (toured by Big Brum Theatrein-Education, 1995), Coffee (Rational Theatre Company, Cardiff and

London, 1996; Paris, 2000), Eleven Vests (toured by Big Brum Theatre-inEducation, 1997), The Crime of the Twenty-First Century (Paris, 2001), The Children (Classworks, Cambridge, 2000), Have I None (toured by Big Brum Theatre-in-Education, 2000), The Under Room (toured by Big Brum Theatre-in-Education, 2005) and Born (Avignon, 2006); also Olly’s Prison (BBC2 Television, 1993; first staged by the Berliner Ensemble, 1994), Chair (BBC Radio 4, 2000; first staged Avignon, 2006), and Existence (BBC Radio 4, 2002; first staged Paris, 2002). by the same author A-A-America! & Stone At the Inland Sea The Children & Have I None Eleven Vests/Tuesday Plays: 1 (Saved, Early Morning, The Pope’s Wedding) Plays: 2 (Lear, The Sea, Narrow Road to the Deep North, Black Mass, Passion) Plays: 3 (Bingo, The Fool, The Woman) Plays: 4 (The Worlds with The Activists Papers, Restoration, Summer) Plays: 5 (Human Cannon, The Bundle, Jackets, In the Company of Men) Plays: 6 (The War Plays – Red Black and Ignorant, The Tin Can People, Great Peace; Choruses from After the Assassinations) Plays: 7 (Olly’s Prison, Coffee, The Crime of the Twenty-First Century, The Swing, Derek, Fables and Stories) Poetry Theatre Poems and Songs Poems 1978–1985

Prose Selections from the Notebooks of Edward Bond (two volumes) The Hidden Plot

Plays:8 EDWARD BOND Born People Chair Existence The Under Room Freedom and Drama with an introduction by the author

Bloomsbury Methuen Drama An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square

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Bloomsbury is a registered trade mark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc Born, People, Chair, Existence, The Under Room and Freedom and Drama all first published in this collection in 2006 Introduction © Edward Bond 2006 Edward Bond has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. No responsibility for loss caused to any individual or organization acting on or refraining from action as a result of the material in this publication can be accepted by Bloomsbury or the author. All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before rehearsals by professionals and by amateurs to Casarotto Ramsay & Associates Limited, Waverley House, 7–12 Noel Street, London W1F 8GQ (tel 020 7287 4450; fax 020 7287

9128; email [email protected]). No rights in incidental music or songs contained in the work are hereby granted and performance rights for any performance/presentation whatsoever must be obtained from the respective copyright owners. Visit www.bloomsbury.com to find out more about our authors and their books You will find extracts, author interviews, author events and you can sign up for newsletters to be the first to hear about our latest releases and special offers. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. eISBN-13: 978-1-4081-4144-1 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.

Contents Chronology Introduction: Two Cups BORN PEOPLE CHAIR EXISTENCE THE UNDER ROOM Freedom and Drama

Edward Bond: A Chronology PLAY

First performance

The Pope’s Wedding

9.12.1962

Saved

3.11.1965

A Chaste Maid in Cheapside (adaptation)

13.1.1966

The Three Sisters (translation)

18.4.1967

Early Morning

31.3.1968

Narrow Road to the Deep North

24.6.1968

Black Mass (part of Sharpeville Sequence)

22.3.1970

Passion

11.4.1971

Lear

29.9.1971

The Sea

22.5.1973

Bingo: Scenes of money and death Spring Awakening (translation) The Fool: Scenes of bread and love Stone

14.11.1973 28.5.1974 18.11.1975 8.6.1976

We Come to the River (music H.W. Henze)

12.7.1976

The White Devil (adaptation)

12.7.1976

Grandma Faust (part one of A-A-America!)

25.10.1976

The Swing (part two of A-A-America!)

22.11.1976

The Bundle: New Narrow Road to the Deep North

13.1.1978

The Woman

10.8.1978

The Worlds

8.3.1979

Restoration

21.7.1981

Orpheus (music H.W. Henze)

2.11.1981

Summer

27.1.1982

Derek

18.10.1982

After the Assassinations

1.3.1983

The Cat (music H.W. Henze)

2.6.1983

Human Cannon

2.2.1986

The War Plays Part I: Red Black and Ignorant

29.5.1985

Part II: The Tin Can People

29.5.1985

Part III: Great Peace

17.7.1985

Jackets

24.1.1989

September

16.9.1989

In the Company of Men

1.2.1992

Lulu: A Monster Tragedy (translation)

2.3.1992

Olly’s Prison

1.5.1993

Tuesday

1.6.1993

At the Inland Sea

16.10.1995

Coffee

27.11.1996

Eleven Vests

14.10.1997

The Children

11.2.2000

Chair Have I None

7.4.2000 2.11.2000

The Crime of the Twenty-First Century

9.1.2001

Existence

8.4.2002

The Balancing Act

10.10.2003

The Short Electra

13.3.2004

The Under Room

12.10.2005

My Day (song cycle for young people)

17.12.2005

Born

10.7.2006

Arcade

21.9.2006

Two Cups In the medieval age there was a model of the universe called ‘the great chain of being’. God was at the top. After Him, the archangels and angels. Then the saints and the blessed. Below, the Pope. Then the cardinals, priests and those in religious houses. Then emperors and kings, their courtiers and councils. The aristocracy of the great lords of the realm. The judges, knights, local lords and squires. Scholars, bankers, merchants and guild traders. Sailors and soldiers. Farmers, labourers, servants and serfs. Then turnkeys, executioners and torturers. And lowest of all the Devil and his demons. All life was chained together as tightly as the slave was chained to his master. But the great chain also bound society in the sacred. Below God each link was joined to the one above and the one below not just by practical necessity but also by moral obligation. Moral obligation and economic livelihood – work, bread and shelter – came together. Of course the chain often broke. Executioners and torturers could open any door on earth. There was war even in heaven. God employed the ultimate torturer – the Devil – and arranged it so that victims could never escape torment by dying. It was a sacred gangsterdom in which even state violence was holy. The way that the great chain bound together the moral and practical is no longer possible. Money has no morals – and so punishment and prison cannot be moral. The great chain defined the meaning of being human in a way no authority except tyranny would now dare to do. We have replaced the great chain of being by the great net of being. The net is democratic. No strand or knot in the net is more superior than another. The net holds everyone in their place as the chain once did. The places in both are unjust. It is not justice that one be rich and another poor. (Money has no morals.) Morality and practical, economic life are no longer a unity. In a democracy God cannot define the meaning of being human. In a democracy the voice of authority is the voice of the people. Then why do the people define humanness as ‘living in injustice’? Injustice destroys social meaning. This corrupts all action and society falls into misery. It is democratic gangsterdom. The problem is that people do not see the

problem. They are caught in the net not by its strands but by the gaps between them. The gaps in the net are where society places the meaning of being human. It is called ideology. Ideology has power only because we misunderstand the relationship between mind and matter. To explain the relationship we invent other worlds – the mystical, transcendental and reductively determined. They are the illusions of nothingness. We break the net only when we dramatise the problem. How does drama do this? At first, because we do not understand the problem, the explanation seems another piece of mysticism. You might think that justice was defined by the relationship between mind and mind. Surprisingly, it is defined by the relationship between mind and matter – between ourselves and the world in which we live. Understanding that is the foundation of the culture of understanding. What is drama? There are two cups, one white and one blue. The white cup has a handle. The blue cup has none. We break the two cups and trample and scatter the pieces. We carefully reassemble them. No fragment is left over. There is no crack on the cups, not one sign of breakage, each cup is perfect. But the blue cup has the handle and the white cup has none. Drama changes reality.

Born

Born was first staged at the Avignon Festival in July 2006. The cast was as follows: Foreman

Abbès Zahmani

Peter

Carlo Bramdt

Donna

Dominique Valadié

Luke

Éric Elmosnino

Woman

Stephanie Béghain

WAPO 1

Guillaume Lévêque

WAPO 2

Pierre-Félix Gravière

WAPO 3

Victor Gauthier-Martin

WAPO 4

Luc-Antoine Diquero

WAPO 5

Yoann Blanc

With Noëlle Cazenave, Marie-Frédérique Delestré, Alexandra Flandrin, Perrine Guffroy, David Léon, Sylvie Levesque, Pearl Manifold, Véronique Mensch, Charles-Éric Petit, Samuel Rehault, Jeanne Thomas, David Tuaillon and Patricia Varnay Directed by Alain Françon Designed by Jacques Gabel Costumes by Patrice Cauchetier Lighting by Joël Hourbeigt Sound by Gabriel Scotti French text by Michel Vittoz Born and People are the third and fourth plays of The Colline Tetralogy. Coffee and The Crime of the Twenty-First Century are the first and second plays. The tetralogy is named after Le Théâtre National de la Colline in Paris which staged the first productions. The Colline Tetralogy is dedicated to Alain Françon.

One A room in a house. A door at the (audience’s) left in the back wall. A double window to the right of this. No curtain. A side door in the right wall. An oblong kitchen table in the middle of the room. By the back wall stacked packing cases, bundles and a rolled carpet. Otherwise the room is bare. A removal Foreman comes in through the door. He wears a workman’s apron. Foreman (calls) ’Lo! Pause. Peter comes from the side door. He carries an empty box. There’s a few – (Nods back to the street.) If yer know where yer – the lads’ll – Peter Ah. Foreman Only we’d like t’ – if poss. Time we get ’ome, the lads – Peter Yeh. Course. ’S’okay. I can. Foreman No trouble. Lads’ll willingly – Peter No. Leave it t’ – I’ll – (Looks through window.) That it? Easy manage. Foreman If yer –. ’Ave yer check it’s all – ? (Produces a triplicate form: white, green and pink copies.) Company ask yer t’ –. Moniker where it says. (Takes biro from behind ear.) Formality – everythin satisfactory. Peter puts down empty box. Takes form and biro from Foreman. Glances over form. Puts it on a packing case. Signs. Foreman takes the form, checks the signature, peels off pink copy and hands it to Peter. Foreman Pink one. Yourn. Peter Right. Foreman So we’ll – Peter Yeh. Foreman – wend our way.

Peter ’Ope yer get – Foreman We shall do that. ’Ope yer ’appy in yer new –. Too late t’ change yer mind. Peter Ha! Foreman (shouts through window) No. Leave it. Customer’s goin t’ – gentleman says ’e’ll – (Watches a moment longer. Turns to Peter.) Sorry about the – Peter The? Foreman gestures to pieces of broken mug on a packing case. Peter O nothin. Werent. Foreman Yer protected. Company guarantee. Replace any reasonable – Peter No. Nothin. Werent – (Gesture.) Foreman Right. We’ll be – then. Say t’ the – for the lads’ tea. Peter Pleasure. ’N thanks for yer – Foreman (shouts out through window) Right. ’Op on. (Goes to door.) Dont lose yer – (Points to pink form.) Foreman goes out. Peter puts the pieces of broken mug into a box being used for rubbish. He goes out through the door. The room is empty. Donna comes in through the side door. She carries cutlery and two plates of food. She sets them at the table. She sits in a chair and eats. Peter comes in through the door. He carries a packing case. He puts it down with the others. Donna (food) New stove. Peter Good is it? Donna Will be when I get the ’ang. Peter They’re off. Donna (case) They should do that. – Better’n the old one. Peter Told ’em I’d do it. Donna Their job.

Peter Glad yer pleased with the stove. Donna Should’ve told ’im. One in charge. Peter Said t’ thank yer for the tea. Donna Which one broke the cup? That little one – Peter They wanted t’ – ’fore it’s dark. That’s why I said. He puts a forkful of food in his mouth. He goes out through the door. Donna finishes eating. She stands and takes her plate out through the side door. The room is empty. Donna comes back through the side door. She brings two plates. Each has a piece of cake on it. She goes to the table. She sits and eats. Peter comes through the door with a large packing case. He sets it down with the others. He picks up the pink form on a packing case. Peter Ourn. Pink. Donna It’ll get cold. Peter puts the form on the table. He forks food into his mouth. He goes out through the door. Donna eats. Peter comes back with a crate. On top there is a plastic carrier full of gadgets. He puts it all down with the other cases. Donna (meal) Cold. Peter sits at the table and eats. Donna First meal. Outside a small truck starts and is driven away. Stood it out on the road. Anyone could’ve ’ad it. Peter We dont know they’re that sort a’ people round ’ere. Donna No – we dont. That’s why. Any passer-by could ’a ’elp theirself. Peter (pink form) Put it somewhere safe. Case. Peter finishes eating. He stands up with his empty plate. Donna I’ll. Peter No I’ll. Donna You ’ad all the.

Peter So did yer. Donna Give it. Donna takes the plate from Peter. She goes out through the side door. Peter takes a mouthful of cake. He goes to the packing cases. He sorts through them till he finds a blanket. He goes to the table, takes a chair and stands it under the window. He hangs the blanket across the window as a curtain. He hitches it up to let in the light. He goes to the table. Sits and eats his piece of cake. Peter (after a while, to himself. Half-sigh) Yes, yes. Donna comes through the side door. She carries her plate. On it is a fresh piece of cake. She goes to the window. She looks out. Eats. Donna ’Ave t’ introduce ourself. Dress up t’ make a good impression. Peter Start as yer mean t’ go on. Donna looks out of the window in silence. Donna I feel – (Looks at the window frame.) ’Ave t’ take the proper measurements for – Peter Cant the old ones make do? Least for a – Donna No ’ems. Cant be let down. Anyway want new. I feel I – (Silence.) Sh. (They listen. She relaxes.) Top broke. (Points.) There. Bit a’ wood come off. Could splinter yerself on that. Didnt notice it when we – was it on the list a’ – ? Peter I seen it. Nothin. I’ll. Donna Should a’ put it on the form ’fore yer sign. We can go to a new pair a’ curtains. Old ones’ll do upstairs for a while. (Eats.) Peter Bound t’ be a few things. Need –. We’ll – Donna I feel I –. First proper ’ome I ’ad. Place a’ me own. Treat it right. Donna listens. Then she goes out through the side door. Peter eats. Peter (to himself) Yes, yes. Peter eats and picks up the pink form. Studies it. Donna comes back through the side door. She carries a baby wrapped in a cot blanket. She

goes to the window. She looks out. Donna Nice view. See what patterns ’re in the shops now. (Silence.) Bed made. (Looks at the pile of crates.) I’ll move them. Peter Leave it. Yer done enough for one day. Wont ’urt till the mornin. Too tired. Donna Tea’s on. Still think they should’ve. Not yer place to. Should’ve lug it upstairs. Peter Not all a’ it dont belong upstairs. Some goes in the kitchen. Whass the point a luggin it upstairs n’ bringin it down in the mornin? Donna Still dont make it right. Peter stands and grips one end of the table. Peter Give us a ’and. Donna Where yer goin ’a put it? Peter Up the winder. Donna helps Peter move the table. She can’t lift the table with one hand. She puts the baby on the table. Lifts the table with both hands. Peter Give the light a chance. Donna Not too near. People lookin in. Peter Cover it with lace like they do in the posh houses. Bit more. Always move it back if it’s too – They put down the table. Peter sets the two chairs at the table. He stands and eats a mouthful of cake. He taps a fork on the plate – looks to see if the baby responds. Sleep. Donna Leave it. Wake it up. Upset in a strange place. Peter They dont know. That age. Donna Do. Born with a sixth sense. Donna picks up the plate and the fork. She goes out through the side door. Peter goes to the window. He pulls the blanket so that the window is

covered. Peter Need seven round ’ere. Donna (off) Yer want yer tea through there? Peter Upstairs. I’m comin. Peter goes to the light switch by the door. He switches on the light. He crosses to the side door and goes out. The baby and pink form lie on the table.

Two Twenty years later. The same room. It and everything in it are soiled and damaged by neglect and poverty. The same table. Three chairs. A sideboard. Grime darkens the window. A corner of one of the curtains hangs down away from its hooks. The room is empty. From time to time sounds from the street. Raised voices, shouts, trucks. Peter comes in through the side door. He wears a buttoned-up mac and carries a suitcase. He stands holding it. Hesitates. Peter (calls) ’Ow much longer? (No answer.) ’Ow much longer yer need? (Waits.) What yer doin? It cant take – He goes to the window. He stands at the side and stares out in silence. Donna comes in through the side door. She goes to the table. Sits. Peter (still staring through the window. Calls out to Donna) They wont give yer much longer t’ – (He turns back into the room. Sees Donna sitting at the table.) This dont ’elp. (No response.) I’ll pack for yer. Tell me what t’ take. (Waits.) Yer make it worse. We’ll all be – Donna I cant. Peter There’s no choice. Donna You go. Peter We all ’ave to. Donna Leave me. Yer wont be blamed. Peter ’Ow can I! (Starts towards the side door.) I’ll pack for yer. Donna No! Peter Tell me what t’ – Donna Dont touch my things. They stay where they belong. Peter hesitates. He puts down his suitcase and goes towards the side door. Donna No.

Peter Tell me what t’ take. Yer get there without yer things – what’s the point a’ it? Just make things worse. Donna No! I wont lift a finger t’ ’elp ’em. Peter I cant go without yer! Tell me what yer want? ’Elp me! Donna I cant. I cant. Yer think I want t’ do this? – make it even worse for yer? I cant. Peter Yer listen t’ rumours. I tol’ yer – warned yer not t’ – Donna They were right about this. Peter People say what comes in t’ their ’ead. Donna They say what they see on the streets. Peter They work each other up. ’Ow can they know what it’s like till they get there? They dont even believe it theirselves. They’re all packed. Down in the street. Waitin by the trucks. All a’ them. Donna It was quiet yesterday. No traffic. Yer could tell somethin was goin t’ ’appen. I look out the winder. There was a face at every winder in the street. Truck went pass at the top. Didnt even turn in t’ the street. Every face vanish. All the winders was empty. Just like that – ’s if someone pull a string. Cant live like that. Where they’re sendin us they wont even look out the winders. Be livin in prison. Peter They give ’n order. Yer think they’ll let yer stay? They’ll put yer away somewhere. God knows where. I’m supposed t’ go off – live on me own – wonderin where yer are? Pack. Please. Least we’ll be t’gether. Donna Where’s the boy? Peter sits at the table. Peter This ain our place. Look at it! This ain what we intended when we come ’ere. They’ll feed us. Give us a roof. ’Ave t’. That’s all it comes down t’ in the end – wherever yer are. A roof. Somethin on yer plate. Yer make the best a’ it. They dont want trouble. If we go quietly they’ll leave us alone. We’ll manage like we always ’ave. Donna ’E wont come back.

Peter ’E’ll survive, ’is age. ’E wont be on ’is own. Some a’ ’is own age’ll go with him. They got a life a’ead a’ ’em. Somethin t’ fight for. Wont want us around. Our age we’re a liability. They could live rough for years. Donna We didnt even ’ave time t’ think! Peter That was the point. Donna Come while it’s still dark. Shoutin in the streets. ’Ooters. Bangin on doors. Didnt even ’ave time for a last meal t’gether. Spend yer last night in yer own bed. One suitcase. Yer got ’a put yer life in that! Shouting in the street. A woman screams. More shouts. Donna stands to go to the window. Peter (stopping Donna) Dont! Donna I know ’er! Know ’er voice! Peter Yer’ll shout out! Cause trouble! No! (Donna tries to get by him.) Yer’ll make it worse for ’er! Donna goes back to her chair at the table. Buries her face in her hands. Donna That’s my neighbour – ’n I sit ’ere. Rumours? – I knew it’d come t’ this. Peter (picks up his suitcase) I’ll take it back upstairs. I’ll stay with yer. Donna No. Go. Peter Yer cant sit there on yer own. Donna I know! I know! I know! Peter Then what d’yer want me t’ do? Donna I dont know! Peter They’ll take yer down. Yer wont ’ave a suitcase. They’ll say that’s provocation. So stubborn. Donna Yer should’ve left me years ago. I wouldnt be gettin yer in trouble now. Peter We ’ad our ups ’n downs. Same as every marriage. Thass all.

Outside, voices call. Truck doors slam. Engines start. Trucks drive away. An engine ticks over. Peter watches Donna. She begins to stand to go to the window – but stops herself. Luke comes in through the door. Donna Where yer bin? Peter She wont pack. Donna Where was yer? Went off. Not a word. Are yer all right? Peter What’s – outside in the? – they stood everyone on the pavement. Luke Sortin ’em out in groups. So they dont stampede for the trucks. Donna Where was yer? Luke Yer should’ve pack for ’er. Donna Yer not goin t’ let ’em take yer! Luke Everyone has t’ go. Donna Yer not packed. Luke Upstairs. All ready. Peter I didnt know what t’ put in – what she want – Luke (to Donna) I’ll lay yer things on the bed. Yer go up ’n choose. ’Ave t’ move quick. They dont tolerate ’old-ups. People kep waitin they panic. Do things. Luke goes out through the side door. A truck drives away. Donna I thought ’e’d run for it. Never see ’im again. Least I wouldnt see ’im grow old ’ere. Peter No one’s young any more. It’s bin abolished. One minute they’re kids. Next minute they’re old. Older each time they come through the door. They think they’re young. They’re not. They make a lot a noise t’ kid theirself. Donna What’s the use a sayin that? Tell ’im t’ go. Least get ’im out a this! Peter (looks across to window) I never mended the winder. All these years. – ’E’ll help us t’ settle down when we get there. I wont let ’em touch yer. I’ll drag yer down meself if I ’ave t’.

Luke comes through the side door. He carries a suitcase. Luke On the bed. Go up ’n sort it out. Peter goes out through the side door. Outside a truck drives off. Donna I know where yer was this mornin. I bin watchin yer. I knew what yer was plannin. Yer saw it’d come t’ this. I didnt tell yer father – not ’ow sure I was. Kep it secret – someone passin outside the winder – anyone – could a’ ’eard me say – put yer in danger. Yer can tell me while ’e’s upstairs. Yer bin with yer friends. Yer runnin away. Luke Someone’s talk t’ yer. Donna Yer got a chance yer age. Some a’ yer’ll make it. The police cant look everywhere. Luke ’Oo was it? Donna Why yer come back? T’ say goodbye? Yer shouldnt. The risk! I made up me mind I’d never see yer again. It was settled in me ’ead. I was contented. Rather see yer dead than in one a’ their places. Luke These ’ouses ’re worse than ruins. Air aint changed in ’ere for years. Look at it! Yer’ll be better off where yer goin. Donna Dont lie t’ me. Yer lyin t’ comfort me. I dont need it. Yer goin away. Thass all the comfort I need. Go quick. If they stop yer in the crowd – yer lookin for yer place in the trucks – yer got yer suitcase t’ show. Why’m I tellin yer this? Yer got it all work out! I’ll go with yer father. ’Ave to. Cant draw attention t’ the ’ouse. They’d want t’ know what ’appen t’ everyone in it. Quick. I wont wave from the winder – draw attention. I’ll watch yer back. I dont need t’ see yer any more. I still see yer as a little boy. Bare knees. Squattin in the ruins playin with stones. No – the past gets us confused. I see yer now – squattin ’n playin – yer could be any boy. A stranger. This mornin all the shoutin – bangin on doors – I didnt know which one was mine – ’oo was the bangin for – me or the woman ’oo screamed in the street? Yer ’ave t’ think like that now. Thass ’ow we’ll survive. Yer standin there for the first time. Never bin in this room before. Never seen yer before. Yer could be anyone. Thass why I love yer: yer a stranger. Thass why they cant never take yer from me. I can find yer anywhere. Yer understand? (He looks at her.) Yer understand?

Luke goes towards the door. Donna Yer goin! Tell me – so I can ’ear yer say it. Thass all I want. Dont spoil it. Dont ’old back – not now! Yer got a place. Stocked it with –. I’ll never see it – but it’s my ’ome! Yer got a girl there. I can see ow yer ’ands curlin round ’ers. I can see yer love ’er. I’ll never know ’er name. Dont tell ’er what I said now. Forget it. Dont think a’ me. I’m dead. Suddenly shuts her eyes. She holds out both arms stiffly towards him. Luke goes out through the door. He leaves his suitcase. A truck drives off. This mornin – everythin dark – lorries – doors slammin – shoutin – screams. I’m so ’appy! So ’appy. I’m cryin. Yer didnt know yer could make a woman so ’appy. No dont touch me. There’s only one thing I want. Tell me – yer goin. Let me ’ear yer voice say it. (Listens for a moment, then as if repeating his words drily:) Yes. Yes. She opens her eyes. For a moment she stares at the empty doorway. She turns to the window. She starts to go towards it. Stops herself. She begins to move calmly and carefully, like a blind woman who has just found her sight. She goes out through the side door. Silence except for a scattering of voices outside. It sounds like wisps of wind. Donna comes back through the side door. She carries a hammer and a tin of assorted nails. She sets the hammer and nails on the floor by the window. She takes a chair from the table. She stands it under the window. She climbs on to the chair seat. She tries to straighten a slat in the top frame of the window. It is awkward. She steps down from the chair. She crouches with her back to the window. She rummages in the nail tin. Behind Donna, WAPO 5 climbs into the window. He is dressed in black: tunic, boots, gloves, visored riot helmet. An automatic hangs on a sling round his neck. He steps into the room and stands on the chair. He looks down at Donna. Donna selects nails from the tin. She rises, turns and faces WAPO 5. She stares. A few nails fall from her hand and rattle on the floor. Donna (fear, almost silent) Yer ’aven’t – ? No. I’d a’ ’eard. WAPO 5 steps down from the chair. He goes to the door and turns to Donna.

Donna ’Usband. Me. WAPO 5 gestures to Donna to leave. Donna Seen no one. WAPO 5 looks at Donna. Donna goes towards the door. As she passes him WAPO 5 follows her. The room is empty. The noise outside grows less – isolated bangs and shouts. Some distant trucks. Peter comes in through the side door. He carries Donna’s suitcase. He has heard a noise – he expects someone to be in the room. He stops. He turns and shouts back at the side door. Peter … Put some things in yer – Dont know if I chose the right – Silence. He puts Donna’s suitcase beside his own. If yer get there without yer woman’s things… Peter sees the chair and the tin by the window. He is afraid. He sees Luke’s suitcase. He turns to go quickly towards the side door. Stops. He goes to Luke’s suitcase. He picks it up and sets it down side by side with the others. He stares at the chair, tin and nails dropped on the floor by the window. He sees the hammer. He goes to it, stoops to pick it up. Stops. His face is white and expressionless. He goes back to the suitcases. He stares at Luke’s suitcase. He picks it up. He shakes it slightly. He puts it down. He goes to the hammer. He picks it up and goes back to Luke’s suitcase. With the claw of the hammer he prises apart the lock. The lid falls open. The suitcase is empty. He stands for a moment. Suddenly he goes to the dropped nails. He picks them up and stares at them as if they might be a clue. He goes back to Luke’s suitcase. The nails drop from his hand. He shuts the suitcase. He sets it beside the other two. He goes to the table and sits. The hammer is in his hand. Luke comes in through the door. Luke Packed? Anythin missin she can get it there. She went a’ead. If yer go down now yer’ll be put in ’er truck. They’re goin fast. Peter I tried t’ bring yer up in a decent way. Make things work for yer. Let yer be ’appy. I couldnt do all I wanted. Yer cant be a father now. It’s not allowed. They dont need it.

Luke She’s in the trucks. Peter Where was yer this mornin? Must ’a bin strange. People waitin t’ be took away from their own streets. Luke What yer wan’ a’ say? Peter They’ll be disorganised t’day. But be careful. They’ll shoot stragglers, anyone on the run. Wont hesitate. Take care a’ yerself. Yer’ll make it. Perhaps one day it’ll change. Then yer can make up for what I couldnt give yer. Luke goes to his suitcase. He picks it up. He tries to catch the lid but it falls open. It tilts – a few nails fall out. Peter They catch yer with it empty they’ll know yer on the run. Take mine. WAPO 4 comes into the doorway. WAPO 4 Nearly wrap. Just dregs left. (Looks around. To Luke.) This it? (Half shrug.) If yer say so. (Shouts back through doorway.) In ’ere. Move! (To Luke.) Park the truck up the side street. ’Id. (Goes to window. Shouts through it.) Git off yer fannies. Git started. (To Luke.) Yer sure this is it? Luke Corner ’ouse. Good field a’ fire. WAPOs 2, 3 and 5 bring in equipment, cases, ammo boxes and two tripod automatics. The WAPOs swarm like ants, never stopping. Luke never looks at Peter – it’s as if he were not there. Luke (points) There. Stack it. Sort it later. WAPO 4 Dont bang it! Yer life can depend on that. WAPO 3 Bivvy ’ere or just work? WAPO 4 Residential for the time bein. WAPO 3 Case it. WAPO 3 goes out through the side door. Luke moves crate. WAPOs 2 and 5 bring in more crates and equipment. WAPO 5 hands Luke a cardboard box. WAPO 3 (off, upstairs) Kip pits up ’ere.

WAPO 5 (shouts up to WAPO 3) Dont test-drive ’em ’n nab the best. Yer’ll end up kippin on the floor. WAPO 2 (glances through side door) Kitchen work? WAPO 4 (shouts through window) Yer can git off. I’m park up the side street. We’ll deal with the stragglers. (Turns back to room. Automatics.) Git ’em set. Be needed. WAPO 1 comes in. He gives forms to WAPO 4. WAPO 1 Driver said give it. WAPO 4 Yeh. (He puts forms into his map case.) Luke puts the cardboard box on the chair by the window. Takes out his WAPO uniform. Puts the jacket on the chair back. Puts on the trousers. WAPOs 1, 2 and 5 start to set the two guns. One is on a crate by the window. The nozzle points to the street. WAPO 5 (throws empty mags to WAPO 2) Catch. Peter (to Luke) Where is she? Luke takes a tarpaulin from the crates. Throws it to WAPO 1. Luke Cover the ’ole. Temporary. ’Id it. WAPO 3 comes through the side door. WAPO 3 Kitchen works. Brew up? WAPO 3 goes back through side door. WAPO 2 cheers. Breaks off from setting up the automatics. Takes canteen equipment from crates. Takes it through side door. Comes back and helps to set up the automatics. WAPO 4 notices Peter. He takes the hammer from his hand and throws it on to the crates. WAPO 4 (to Peter) Scram down there! Fast! (Goes to window. Shouts out.) Oi! ’Old on! One more! (He picks up the three suitcases and throws them out of the window.) An’ these! Driver (off) Yer said – WAPO 4 (shouts out) Yeh ’n now I said different. One more! (Turns back to room.) Cant tell ’is ear’ole from ’is ’arse’ole. (To Luke.) No lock-up.

Luke Steel cage. Sappers. Erect it in yard. P.m. WAPOs 1 and 2 cover the window with the tarpaulin. The gun points at it. Beside it the chair with Luke’s jacket on the back. The room darkens. Light from the doorway – silhouettes pass before it. WAPO 1 Got that sorted okay. No one run over. WAPO 3 comes through the side door. WAPO 3 In a jiff. WAPO 2 cheers, WAPO 3 goes out again through the side door. Peter (to Luke) Where is she? Driver (off) Oi! WAPO 4 (looks around. Sees Peter) ’E still ’ere? (To Peter.) Yer look like a scarecrow in a morgue. Scram! Peter walks out through the door. WAPOs 1, 2 and 5 erect the second automatic. It faces the back wall. WAPO 4 (sees the second automatic) Not there! Not there! Move it. Every time I peep through the key’ole I git me arse shot off. A mattress is thrown into the room from the side door. It lies askew against the table. Luke is finishing putting on his uniform. WAPO 4 lifts a corner of the tarpaulin and stares out. WAPO 2 takes tin issue mugs from a crate. He knocks the mattress to the floor. He puts the mugs on the table. Off, a truck starts. WAPO 4 drops the corner of the tarpaulin. WAPO 4 Saucy bugger wave goodbye. I’ll get ’im! WAPO 4 snaps on the electric light by the door. Luke takes his uniform jacket from the chair at the window. He puts it on. The empty chair stands next to the first automatic. WAPO 5 takes the mattress to the left wall and leans it upright against it. The second automatic points at the mattress.

Three Green hillside. Bare. Upstage on the hill a Woman sits facing away with her back to the others. Her face is not seen. She wears a dirty white dress. She holds an infant in her lap. WAPO 1 stands by her. He has his automatic. Downstage, Luke sits on his pack. Alone. He faces front with his back to the others. Between the Woman and Luke, WAPOs 2, 3, 4 and 5 sleep. They are dressed in the same black working uniform as before, boots and leg and body armour. When they are not in use their riot sticks and visor helmets usually hang from their belts. Each WAPO has a riot shield of transparent synthetic glass. It is man-high, wide enough to protect the body and has a transparent handgrip in the middle. WAPO 2 sleeps on his inverted shield. The five other shields are stacked in a pyramid, left. Luke Arst ’er. WAPO 1 Again? Luke Arst ’er. WAPO 1 All a’ it – from the start? (To Woman.) ’Oo yer with? With someone. Must ’ave. Not out ’ere on yer tod. Silence. Woman doesn’t move. Luke Arst ’er. Silence. WAPO 1 ’Ow many of yer? Yer mates scarper? ’Cause a’ the kid? Liability. That it? Drop yer in it. Why cover up for ’em? ’Ave the satisfaction a’ knowin they get what yer got. Silence. (To Luke.) Could a’ bin on ’er tod. Crep out the settlement. Luke Why? WAPO 1 Kid. Scared they took it off ’er. ’Id. Luke This far?

Silence. (Motionless shrug.) Try it. WAPO 1 (to Woman) You ’eard. Panic. Walk out. Silence. ’Ow long yer bin in the ditch? What yer live on? Someone must’ve fed yer. Cant live off the garbage out ’ere. Silence. She’d talk t’ me boot. Luke (raises his voice to talk to Woman, but doesn’t turn round) Ain ’urt yer. Regulations. Ain allowed t’. Kid’s cover too. WAPO 1 ’Oo’d know out ’ere? Luke I would. (To Woman.) Unnecessary violence degrades information. ’S in black ’n white. Last resort. When yer as good as dead yerself so there’s nothin t’ lose. He glances over his shoulder. Turns back. Silence. She cryin – WAPO 1 No. Luke (flat) … Bitch … Silence. Out ’ere. Runnin round. Bring the kid. Should a left it with someone. Cant ’elp yer. Yer be dead in thirty minutes. Regulations. Bullet. Show ’er yer gun. WAPO 1 She can see. Luke Show ’er. WAPO 1 jerks his automatic. Silence. Luke She see? WAPO 1 Yeh. Silence.

Luke Now show ’er yer finger. (WAPO 1 makes a vague gesture with his hand.) Show ’er. She see? (To Woman.) Remember that. ’E crook it – ’s all over. Funny that – the mechanical nature a’ the world. (To WAPO 1.) Wiggle it. (WAPO 1 slides his hand on the automatic.) If yer said – it’d take longer. Dont shoot while yer speak. It’s got a be interestin. No dontdont shise. WAPO 1 moves a little to the side. Sits with his gun across his legs. Luke She – ? WAPO 2 moves in his sleep. His shield rocks. Silence. Luke glances over his shoulder. Turns back again. Silence. Luke I’ll ’elp yer. Kid first. Then yer know it’s out a’ ’arm’s way. Got its blood splash on yer. Proof cant be more positive ’n that. You go first – yer’ll never know. ’E could ’urt it. A bullet in the wrong place ’urt. Shoot wide by accident. I wouldnt let ’im – ain in it for the cruelty. But yer wouldnt know. Regulations ain cover accidents. Silence. Dont want t’ know ’oo’s out there with yer. I’ll get ’em – thass as good as done. I’ll tell yer what I want. Listen careful. I want t’ know whass it like at the end? I know what ’appens t’ the body. Know all that. Seen it. I want t’ know what it’s like inside. What ’appens in yer ’ead at the end. Where yer are. You tell me that. Silence. Mornin shave. Little bit a’ glass gone. What ’appens? Bothers yer. Thass where yer look. Where yer are now’s like lookin in the mirror when all the glass is gone – ’n see the reflection there. Privilege condition. What yer see? Tell me. Silence. Simple for yer now. Easy. Yer can change the world. Yer say – ’n everythin changes: kid goes first. Thass everythin for yer. The ’ole world. Thass power. Silence.

Show ’er yer mug. Stick it in ’er ’ooter – (WAPO 1 doesn’t react. His head is lowered. To Woman.) What yer see? WAPO 2 has woken up. He shakes WAPO 3. Whispers in his ear. WAPO 3 half lifts his head – looks at WAPO 2. WAPO 2 gets to his knees. Spreads his arms in an Al Jolson gesture. Grimaces. Sways. Clasps his hands together. Looks at the sky as if he were receiving divine illumination. WAPO 3 is irritated. Turns away. Tries to sleep. WAPO 1 … for jees sake let me – … Luke (to Woman) What yer see? WAPO 2 falls on his back miming silent laughter. WAPO 1 (to WAPO 2) Wrap it turd! Luke doesn’t look round. WAPO 2 shakes WAPO 3. WAPO 3 half asleep – stands in annoyance. Picks up his automatic. Moves away. Luke What yer see? WAPO 3 accidentally treads on WAPO 4. WAPO 4 (wakes) Wha’! Whass the – WAPO 2 rocks in silent laughter. WAPO 4 stands. Luke turns to look at them. WAPO 4 What the shit’s she doin? She’s still alive! Luke Get back t’ the trucks. WAPO 2 lies on his back in pretended exhaustion. WAPO 5 wakes. The WAPOs sort themselves out. WAPO 1 ’E started it again! Whass ’e want? WAPO 4 (picks up his automatic) I’ll finish the – Luke No. WAPO 1 Whass ’e want? They aint sent us out ’ere for this? Whass ’e want? WAPO 4 (to Luke) I thought we was goin back t’ base t’ join the unit. Luke We was. Then we ran in t’ this.

WAPO 4 This? A woman ’n kid? Whass she know? What can she tell us? We should a’ shot ’er. Then joined the unit. Luke We will. But we eradicate all stragglers we run into on the way. Get back t’ the trucks. WAPO 5 ’Ad it up t’ ’ere. WAPO 2 Never ends. WAPO 4 (to Luke) Yer off on a jag a yer own – we’re all in it. They come down on us so ’ard the ground’ll wonder what ’it it. Luke (to WAPO 4) Yer dont even know ’ow many yer kill. WAPO 4 Whass that suppose t’ mean? Luke In the ’ouse. ’Ow many? WAPO 4 (slight pause) Ain paid piece work. Luke Get back t’ the trucks. WAPO 2 Never ends. WAPO 4 Yer wan’ ’a know ’ow it feels t’ be shot? WAPO 5 It ’urts. Luke ’Ow d’yer know? WAPO 5 … what bloody stupid … ? WAPO 4 There’s one way a’ findin out. Silence. WAPO 5 jerks his head towards the truck. The WAPOs 2, 3, 4 and 5 take their automatics and leave. The Woman has not moved. WAPO 1 stands by her – hesitates. Luke (to WAPO 1) Stay ’ere. He goes halfway towards the Woman. She has not moved. He stops. I cant trust yer. When the kid’s dead yer could say anythin. Wouldnt know where yer was. Thass the limitations a’ what a ’uman bein can do – ’ave t’ dodge ’n twist. Always. Never straightforward. I’ll kill the kid first – an’ use it t’ be yer. Kill it –’s good as kill yer. Just as it’s bein killed – the end’ll come in t’ yer ’ead as if it’s yer thass bein killed: then yer say it. Dont cheat.

Dont beg for the kid. Dont try t’work it out now. Cant be prepared – wont be what yer think. If I believe yer – I’ll know – I’ll keep me word. Yer can trust me: I’ll kill the kid. Cant change that. Ain in my power. But yer’ll know it’s safe out a’ reach –. This is how it’ll ’appen. ’E points ’is gun at the kid. I count. One. Two. Then’s yer turn. Quick – yer say. Three – I kill it. Yer wont worry about it then. Yer’ll be beyond all that. (To WAPO 1.) She – ? Silence. Give it the tit. WAPO 1 What? Luke In its gob. Get the tit out. Yer know what tit is. Yer know what gob is. WAPO 1 undoes Woman’s dress. She does not move. Luke Dont play with it. Ain yourn. The kid’s. WAPO 1 aims his automatic at the baby’s head. Luke T’ kill it while yer give suck. More’n that cant be done. WAPO 1 slightly lowers his automatic. Luke Aim. Up. The nipper’s ’ead. (WAPO 1 raises his aim.) ’Is finger on the trigger. Show ’er. Remember I tol’ yer: remember the finger. Yer know what I want. Yer’ll ’ave time t’ study it. The end last a long time. I know that. See it in the faces. All the same. Always. (To WAPO 1.) Smile. Yer put the kid off. (To Woman.) Wont shout. Upset it. Glug glug – then nothin. Not the worse way t’ go. (Counts.) One. He walks away. Stops. No. Useless. The ’uman limitations. Wont do. She’s dead already – good as. The kid’s drinkin off the air. (To WAPO 1.) Look at ’er! – not me! He goes back to his pack. Sits looking towards Woman. Cant kill the kid. (Pauses to think.) Told t’ kill everythin we come to. Order. ‘Stop outs’ show they ain suitable for settlement. Kill everythin ain in uniform. Fly – swat it. Worm? – tread on it. Kid – kill it. (Thinks. Decides.) Wont. Kid’s born lucky. (Gestures off, to the WAPOs.) They’ll shut up – wont make trouble. ’Ide it in the truck. When we get back drop it in the

road. Someone pick it up. That’s what the kid’d want if it understood. Spit the milk out its gob ’n say ‘Yer die – I’m goin t’ live.’ Kid ’as t’ tell ’is mother what’s what. What else y’ave ’em for? He goes to Woman. Faces her back. Holds out his arms. Give it. Ain take. Grab. The way I take it show I keep me word. I can be trusted. Silence. Woman doesn’t move. Luke waits a few seconds. He goes back to his pack. Sits facing away from Woman. Still ain right. She’s worse n’ dead. Dead ’n still alive. Know that sort. No ’ope, no fear – ’ear every word but dont understand nothin. Dont know what she’s ’oldin in ’er lap. If she was still alive she’d want t’ die. Try this: put the muzzle on ’er ’ead. WAPO 1 goes to shoot Woman. Luke (realises) No! – not! – muzzle! – give ’er the muzzle on the – jees! On ’er ’ead! – not – ! See if that bring ’er round. WAPO 1 puts the muzzle of his automatic to Woman’s head. Luke Feel it cold? (To WAPO 1.) She shiver? No response. Luke goes to Woman. Faces her. He holds the muzzle of WAPO 1’s automatic against his head. See that? ’E did that t’ yer ’ead. Just now. (No response.) Too shock t’ know what’s ’appen to ’er. (Takes off his jacket.) Get warm. Yer’ll come round then. (He drapes the jacket round Woman’s shoulders.) I kill in that. Done so many it could kill on its own. Smell it. Tells yer what I do for a livin. I carry the smell of it on me. ’Ave t’ put up with it. Goes with the job. He drapes the jacket sleeves round Woman’s neck. He gives the cuffs to WAPO 1. The jacket’ll strangle ’er. Take longer ’n a bullet. Give ’er time t’ say. (To Woman.) I’ll know when I ’ear it. It’s for the kid’s sake. Dont lie. He snatches the baby from Woman. Her arms shoot out towards it – stiff and straight as a stone marionette’s. She makes no sound or other

movement. Luke puts the baby on the ground. Woman’s arms point at it as if locked on to it. Luke (to WAPO 1) Do it. Go on. WAPO 1 tightens the jacket sleeves round Woman’s neck. She doesn’t change her position. She moves only as WAPO 1 moves her. She makes no sound. Luke Do it! Go on! Go on! – not too –. Dont choke ’er so she cant tell me! (WAPO 1 pulls less.) More! More! Do it right! He goes to WAPO 1. He puts his hands on WAPO 1’s arms. He pulls them so that the sleeves jerk. Woman doesn’t react. WAPOs 2, 3, 4 and 5 come on silently. They watch passively. Luke (to Woman) More? More? Want more? I wont be beat by a – ! Smell it! Smell it! – thass where yer goin! Chriss I’d cut ’er throat ’n dig the words out with the knife if I could! (To WAPO 1.) Do it with me! (They both pull the sleeves.) I can ’ear the skin wince! – or the stitches crackin! (Lets the sleeve go. Stops. Bewildered.) Chriss! She wont tell me! What shall I do? She wont say! (To Woman.) Tell me! He goes to the child. Lifts his boot over it. Keeps it raised. Stamp on it! Stamp! Stamp! Grow up cripple! Thank yer for it! – its mother! WAPO 1 stands back. Takes the jacket with him, it hangs from his hands. WAPO 1 (explains) ’Cause a’ the ache – me arms. Woman’s arms reach motionless towards the child. Luke bends doubled up over the baby. He is winded – gasps for breath. No other sound. Nothing moves. WAPO 5 Want us t’ play football? WAPO 4 That ’d do it! WAPO 2 ’Oo’s in goal? Luke stares at the WAPOs but ignores them. Luke There’s a way. Must be. If I could – (He crouches with his head between his knees. Gets his breath.) Kill the kid. ’Ave to. The kid’s the flesh

of its – mother ’n kid is one flesh. Kill it. Then ’er. One death ain enough t’ – one dont move ’er. Takes two. Got it! – see it now: thass why they kill the kids. Massacre. Always. Clears the space so yer see where yer at. He picks up the baby. He goes to WAPO 1. Gi’ us! He takes the jacket from WAPO 1. He holds the baby in the jacket’s sleeves as if the jacket were holding it. (Stares in Woman’s face.) Not yet. Not yet. Ain there yet. Ain see it yet. (To baby.) Walkies! Go walkies! (Walks the baby round.) War. War. War. When it’s all over will it grow up ’n be a soldier? It’s grinnin! (To Woman.) Yer could light a fuse with the grin on its gob! Trot trot trot! Is it tired? (He puts the baby on the ground. Uses the jacket as a puppet. It does a little dance.) Ooo look at Mr Jacket! Clever Mr Jacket dancin! (Swings the jacket up.) Ooo the wind blow! Poor Mr Jacket twist ’n turn! (Knife and keys drop from the jacket pockets.) Poor Mr Jacket scared – did ’is poo-poos. (He collects the knife and keys.) Mr Jacket on ’is bike! (Jerky movements.) Oo Mr Jacket fall off! ’Ave ’n accident! (Jacket crumbles on floor. Picks it up. Covers baby.) Where’s it gone? Where’s baby gone? ’Oo took the baby? (To WAPOs.) You took it? You? Naughty baby ran away. WAPO 3 Nutter. Luke (uncovers baby) There’s baby! (Covers baby.) Night! (Uncovers baby.) Day! (Covers baby.) Night! (To Woman.) Yer could say. Yer could say – ’n stop it. (Uncovers baby.) Mornin! ’Ow the days fly! Soon all the time be gone. Mr Jacket old! Dance is over! (Holds up the jacket. Backing away from baby.) Look – Mr Shadow go away! (To WAPOs.) Make a wall. WAPOs – ? – Luke Wall. Wall. Shields. Make a wall. WAPO 4 Dont mess it around! – Football it ’n finish! Luke Wall! WAPO 2 Make a wall? WAPO 3 Whass ’e on –?

WAPO 4 ’Nough – finish it – Luke A wall. She’s me last one! Ain let ’er beat me t’ – ! Know! Know! The WAPOs hold their glass shields in front of them to form a wall. Luke The kid’s t’ be broken on the wall. He picks up the baby. Look at the sky! Say goodbye Mr Sky! Soon be big nighty-bies. Goodbye Mr Sky! He holds the baby out in front of him. He runs to the wall – is going to dash the baby against it. At the last moment he swerves. Aaah! WAPOs Aaah! Miss! Miss! Miss! Give it ’ere! Less ’ave it! I’ll make ’er talk. She’ll sing! Luke (looks at Woman) Ain there yet. Still ain. It’ll come. Seen it in the ’ouse. The moment always come. Only they ain say. Too late. Lost it by then. Turn ’em inside out they couldnt say. She will. Make ’er. (Baby.) Got the tool. WAPO 5 Give us! Silence. Luke Put ’er in the wall. WAPO 3 What? Luke Put ’er in the wall. WAPO 5 goes towards Woman. He takes his shield with him. He drops it on the ground. WAPO 3 picks it up for him. WAPO 5 drags Woman towards the wall – her arms are still outstretched. WAPO 3 Break ’er arms! The WAPOs pull and push Woman behind the wall. WAPOs Bitch! ’Old the – ! Break ’er! The WAPOs flatten the Woman between themselves and the wall. They press her face against it. She sees the baby. Her body jerks. WAPO 2 drops

his shield – it slithers aside. WAPO 5 ’Old it! ’Old on! Let me be – I’m part a’ the wall! WAPO 2 retrieves his shield. The WAPOs remake the wall. They press Woman’s face against the glass. Luke holds up the baby and shows it to her. Luke ’Oo’s that squash face? Do we know it? Do – ? (Takes baby to wall.) She’s sayin! It knows! It knows! (To baby.) What she say? (He holds baby’s face to the glass.) She wants t’ kiss it! Kiss-kiss! (Kisses baby.) I can smooch it! (To WAPOs.) She say – tell yer the – ! Whass she tellin? WAPO 3 Nothin – Luke She is! WAPO 4 and 5 Nothin! Luke She is! She is! What she – ! She’s mouthin t’ the kid! – (To baby.) What she say? Tell me what she say t’ yer when – ! (To WAPOs.) She’s sayin now! WAPOs 1 and 3 (pull Woman’s head back. Yell) What yer sayin? Louder! Luke walks away with the baby. Luke (angrily to himself) She’ll say. She’ll say. (Shouts at Woman.) Why yer learn t’ speak if it ain for now? – this! While yer kid can ’ear! He goes to his pack. He takes out a tin of small-bore rounds. Rattles it. Rattle. Rattle. Wants t’ play! Rattle ’n shake! (He throws the tin to the WAPOs.) Wake ’er up! Rattle ’er eardrums out! (WAPO 5 gets the tin. Gives it to WAPO 3. WAPO 2 pulls Woman’s head back. WAPO 3 rattles the tin in her face.) Rattle! Rattle! Rattle! He tosses the baby up in the air. Catches it. (To baby.) Ain we enjoy ourselves t’day! Ain this a ’oliday! Look! It wants t’ tell me! Look at it tryin t’ say! Look – its little ’ands clutchin! Cant get it out! Too work up! (The rattling and laughing go on. Suddenly Luke is almost calm. He speaks almost to himself.) What else can I do? What else is there t’ do – ? (Sudden panic.) Listen! Listen! The rattling stops. Silence. WAPO 2 shakes the rattle.

Listen! WAPO 2 She bit a tooth mark in the glass. Luke Listen! Silence. O chriss – ’as she said it – ’n I miss – ? (Shocked fear.) ’S not possible – WAPO 2 She bit a tooth mark in the glass. Luke Why did I get the rattle? WAPO 4 takes the tin from WAPO 2. He throws it away up the slope. It rolls down – rattles. Luke (screams at the rattle) Shut up! Silence. He begins to quietly cry. Suddenly he dashes at the wall – swinging the baby at it. At the last moment he stops. The walls shakes violently. Luke walks away. … that was the men shakin – not ’er … (Looks at his hand.) ’And wet. Puke or piss. Woman’s hand comes through a gap in the shields. It reaches towards the baby. It stops still. Luke sees it. Luke Yes, yes. He holds the baby by the scruff of the neck with one hand. Still crying quietly he lifts it high in the air. He stares at the wall. The wall slowly backs away. Tell me. The wall stops. He goes to it. He holds the baby’s head close to the outstretched arm. Cant reach. Cant. (He stops crying.) WAPO 5’s arm comes from the wall. The hand grips Woman’s arm. It pulls the arm back. It resists. Slowly WAPO 5 pulls it inside the wall. Luke has walked away. Almost casually he swings the baby round him, turning on his heels. The wall moves towards him – the WAPOs stamping a half-pace trot.

Luke stops. He faces the wall. The wall stops. The WAPOs sigh-groangiggle: one sound. It is as if the wall spoke. Luke … not enough … Luke still holds the baby by one hand at the back of the neck. He rushes at the wall. He smashes the baby’s head into the wall. It strikes exactly over Woman’s face. He lets go of the baby. It stays for a moment. Then it slides down the wall. WAPOs (shout once in unison, spontaneously but as if rehearsed) Ha! Luke peers at the glass. Then with his hand he frantically wipes blood from the glass. He stares into Woman’s face. Luke Did she – ? The WAPOs let go of the shields. The shields open and fall apart and hit the ground. WAPOs (spontaneously but in unison as if rehearsed: their fists punch the air and they shout once) Ha! The WAPOs draw a little away. They group. Woman is left standing alone. Luke stares at her. Luke (to Woman) … Yer saw? … Woman is motionless and silent. Luke kneels. He searches among the shields for the baby. Luke … lost … I lost the … He finds the baby. He picks it up. Stares at it. (To baby.) What did she say – ? (Picks bits from its face.) It dont. Cant. A sound comes from Woman’s throat. Luke thinks it is made by the baby. (To baby.) What? Yer – ? (He realises the baby did not make the sound. Looks round.) ’Oo spoke? Woman falls. Luke She’s dead. WAPO 2 stoops to pick up his shield.

WAPO 5 Mine. WAPO 2 No mine with the – The WAPOs go to their shields. WAPO 3 Mine! WAPO 2 tugs his shield from WAPO 5. A brief violent fight for the shields. The shields flail the air like huge tongues. Luke sits staring at the baby. Abruptly he puts it down. Stands. Luke Stop! (They are still. His voice is low. Flat.) None of this was. Nothin done – seen – said. Report female looter with child executed. (He gets an automatic. Shoots Woman and baby – two single shots.) Routine. Regulation. Orderly tour. Done. WAPO 3 and WAPO 5 exchange their shields. WAPO 2 We’ll go back to our unit now. The WAPOs collect the equipment and take it off to the trucks. Woman is laid on a shield. The baby is dropped on top of her. WAPO 5 and WAPO 1 carry out the shield. WAPO 4 is the last. He glances round, to see if anything is left. Nothing. He makes a vague half-pass with a nonexistent football. Goes.

Four A stone dip. Pale grey-brown chalk. The ridge of the hollow runs at the back. WAPO 2 sleeps by his equipment. WAPOs 1 and 4 talk. WAPO 4 cleans his automatic. WAPO 1 Why’s ’e take the second truck? Ain tactical – both trucks out at once. Where’s he gone? Shouldnt be ’ere in the first place. We was attack we wouldnt stand a chance. ’E ’ad ’n order t’ go back. WAPO 4 We dont know there was an order. If there was we’re in trouble. They’ll send out a punishment squad. Done it when other units turned bandit. ’Ammered ’em so far back their parents ain bin born yet. Yer dont ignore orders. They’re the only security yer got. WAPO 1 ’Ad ’n order sure for a fact. ’E’s sat on it. He stands. He goes to the ridge and looks out. Nothing. WAPO 4 cleans his automatic. WAPO 1 starts to come down. WAPO 2 makes a sound in his sleep. WAPO 1 stops – looks at WAPO 2. Then he comes down to WAPO 4. WAPO 1 (nods at WAPO 2) Whass that noise ’e make? ’E’s sayin somethin – WAPO 4 ’E – WAPO 1 Listen. They listen. WAPO 2 is silent. The bitch went like that at the end. The one we did in fancy. She made that noise. Silence. We ought t’ get it sorted. Do somethin. ’S up t’ us. WAPO 4 (nods at ridge) Nothin? WAPO 1 No. WAPO 4 (grunts) Could ’a imagine it.

WAPO 1 Yer saw it too. Yer said so. White sheet. Someone wavin a white flag. WAPO 4 (after a pause) Imagine all sorts out ’ere. Wind kick up a dust. Things look bigger on the ’orizon. Effect a distortion. WAPO 2 makes a sound in his sleep. WAPO 1 (to WAPO 2) Oi. WAPO 4 Leave ’im. Doin no ’arm. WAPO 1 stands and goes up the ridge. WAPO 4 Yer’d ’ear the truck. WAPO 1 stands on the ridge and looks out. Silence. WAPO 1 ’E should a let me flat ’er. Obvious what she is. Stray loony. Tried ’is caper once too often. Madder than she is. ’E dont try it on yer. (Pause.) Get ’ooked on somethin out ’ere – go round the twist. Cant do it – put all a’ us at risk. ’Igher rank incapable a’ effective command – subordinate rank takes over full whatsit. Came t’ a ’earin – we’d all be be’ind yer: say ’e was goin down’ill fast. (Watching off.) Time we was out. Scare me. All that emptiness. Yer piss dust out ’ere. WAPO 2 sits up. Sorts his equipment. WAPO 1 (to WAPO 2) Oi Tonsils! WAPO 2 goes on working. His head is bent. WAPO 1 ’E’s still kippin. Didnt know yer could live like that in yer sleep. He watches WAPO 2. Then he comes down to join WAPO 4. (To WAPO 4.) Plus ’e took the second truck remember. Ain say where ’e’s goin. Leave us stranded. WAPO 4 (after a pause) ’Ouse. WAPO 1 What? WAPO 4 ’Ouse. Gone back there. WAPO 1 Yer kiddin! WAPO 4 Done it before.

WAPO 1 What for? Was ’e do? WAPO 4 Arst me. ’Is people’s pad. Where ’e grew up. WAPO 1 Choose that for a –. Weirdo from the start. Silence. WAPO 2 stands. He is still. He stares in front of him. WAPO 1 looks at him. Whass up with him? WAPO 4 quietens WAPO 1 with a gesture. The silence lasts. Then from the far distance the sound of an approaching truck. WAPO 1 picks up his automatic. Goes up the ridge. Looks off. WAPO 1 Them. Chriss even the trucks creep up on yer in the dust. WAPO 2 crouches – straps on his boots. The sound of the truck is nearer. WAPO 1 comes down to WAPO 4. WAPO 1 What we do? The others landed me with it: talk t’ yer. Yer take over. Thass what we want. We’re solid be’ind yer. WAPO 4 Things shape theirself out. WAPO 1 goes back up to the ridge. The truck is closer. It stops. Truck doors slam. WAPO 1 (shouts off) Yer got? (Waits.) Oi! What yer got? WAPO 3 (off) Yeh. WAPO 1 (shouts off) ’Ow many? (Turns to WAPO 4.) They got. Told yer. WAPO 3 (off) One. Where’s yer truck? WAPO 1 comes down the slope to WAPO 4. WAPO 1 (to WAPO 4) One. (No response.) They got one. WAPO 4 I ’eard. WAPO 1 Said! – knew wind couldnt – WAPO 4 Yeh yeh. WAPO 1 Someone on the move. Definite. WAPO 4 One put up all that dust? Wind.

WAPO 2 stands. He makes a sound in his sleep. WAPO 1 Get on me wick. (To WAPO 2.) Wrap it! WAPOs 3 and 5 come over the ridge. WAPO 2 picks up his automatic. He stares sightlessly at the others. WAPO 5 Where’s the other truck? Thought yer’d turn bandit ’n done a bunk. WAPO 1 ’E took it. WAPO 4 Where’s yer – ? WAPO 3 In the back a’ the truck. WAPO 4 Just one? Yer did a proper reccy? WAPO 1 Ain out long enough t’ do a – WAPO 3 Shut it – yeh? We ’ad a proper look. So flat out there yer couldnt ’ide yer finger up a flea’s arse. WAPOs 3 and 5 put down their automatics and take off their equipment. WAPO 2 is aiming his automatic, searching for a target. WAPO 1 Shouldnt a brung it back. Loony git ’is ’ands on it, ’e’ll pull another stunt. (Pats his automatic with the flat of his hand, turns to go up the slope.) I’ll flat it. WAPO 4 No yer wont. Stick t’ the book. WAPO 1 ’S in the book. Resisted arrest – yer shot. Brought the body back t’ verify. WAPO 2 is aiming his automatic at WAPO 4. WAPO 1 notices. He puts down his automatic. Goes to WAPO 2. WAPO 1 Give us. (WAPO 2 backs away from him.) Leave it. Come ’n sit down. (WAPO 2 waves WAPO 1 away with his automatic.) Give me the – WAPO 5 Whass ’e – ? WAPO 1 (shouts) Little shit! Wake up! Wake up! WAPO 4 Dont shout – shock’ll set ’im off. (To WAPO 5.) ’E’s asleep. WAPO 3 ’Sleep?

WAPO 2 aims his automatic at WAPO 4. His voice is remote, it seems to be someone else’s. WAPO 2 … she bit ’er tooth mark in the … WAPOs 3 and 5 dash up the slope for cover. WAPO 2 swings his automatic towards them. WAPO 4 Stop. Still. WAPOs 3 and 5 stop halfway up the slope. They have left their automatics at the bottom. WAPO 2 swings his automatic and begins to stamp – violent, regular stamps, like a huge, elemental machine. WAPO 1 edges towards his automatic. WAPO 2 swings his automatic towards him. WAPOs 3 and 5 run to the top of the ridge. WAPO 2 swings his automatic towards them. He jerks the trigger frantically – nothing. WAPO 3 Ain loaded! Get it! Take it! WAPO 3 starts to come down the slope. WAPO 2 swings his automatic towards him. Frantically jerks the trigger. WAPO 4 Loaded – safety catch on! WAPO 3 Shit! WAPOs 1, 3 and 4 run up the slope. The WAPOs go out of sight behind the ridge. WAPO 2 is alone. He goes to the top of the ridge. He wanders along it. From time to time he stamps and spasmodically jerks at the trigger. WAPO 2 … tooth mark in the … WAPOs 1 and 3 come over the ridge. They creep towards their automatics. WAPO 1 gets to his, reaches for the sling. WAPO 5 (off) Kill ’im! WAPO 2 swings his automatic in the direction of WAPO 5’s voice. WAPOs 1 and 3 dash back. WAPO 1 drops his automatic on the slope. WAPOs 1 and 3 go out of sight behind the slope. WAPO 2 wanders along the ridge. He stamps, jerks the trigger. Then becomes calmer. WAPO 4 (calls. Off) Truck. Get a weapon. WAPO 2 (holds out his left arm before him – the hand hangs down loosely) … bit ’er tooth mark in me ’and …

He wanders on the slope to WAPO 1’s automatic. He picks it up by the sling. He drags it behind him. … me ’and … WAPO 2 reaches WAPOs 3 and 5’s automatics. He drags them behind him on their slings. He sits. He collects the automatics round him on the ground. His eyes wander over them, from time to time he touches one to make sure it is there. He picks up WAPO 1’s automatic. He has an automatic in each hand. WAPO 4 appears on the ridge with an automatic. Carefully he comes down towards WAPO 2. WAPO 5 (off) Kill the shit! WAPO 2 lifts his head in the direction of WAPO 5’s voice. Pulls the trigger on his automatic – nothing. He looks down the barrel. At the same time he pulls the trigger on WAPO 1’s automatic – a burst of shot. WAPO 4 stands stock-still. He does not aim at WAPO 2. Silence. WAPO 5 (off) Is ’e – ? (Pause.) We got ’im? WAPO 4 comes down to WAPO 2. He still does not aim. He grasps the barrel of WAPO 1’s automatic. WAPO 2 holds on to it. WAPO 4 Bed. ’S late. Carefully WAPO 4 pulls the automatic and draws WAPO 2 towards his kit. WAPO 2 stops. WAPO 2 (looks at his hand) … tooth mark in me … WAPO 4 Time for bed. He draws WAPO 2 to his kit. WAPO 2 lies down. He is still asleep. WAPO 4 picks up WAPO 1’s automatic. He puts on the safety catch. He picks up WAPO 2’s automatic. (Calls.) Yer can come out. WAPOs 1, 3 and 5 come over the ridge. They pick up their automatics. They stand round WAPO 2 and look at him. WAPO 4 ties WAPO 2’s ankles. WAPO 4 (explaining) Case. WAPO 5 Mad shit!

WAPO 3 ’E done that before? WAPO 1 Ain trust ’im with no –. ’E cant carry arms no more. WAPO 3 Shit no! Shittin jesus. WAPO 5 Murderin little – WAPO 3 Chriss! – sweatin like a pig. ’Ow I get in t’ this? WAPO 4 We got ’a get it sorted. Order or no order. ’E’ll be back soon. ’E done this. ’E set ’im off. WAPO 5 Well? Silence. WAPO 4 Ain the time for ’arf-measures. (He looks at the others – makes a slight gesture with his automatic.) WAPO 1 Cant. Anythin we say – they’d say mutiny. WAPO 5 ’Ow’d they find out? Our word ’gainst ’is ’n ’e’ll be dead. WAPO 3 (WAPO 2) ’E’d tell ’em in ’is sleep. WAPO 5 (to WAPO 1) ’Ow’d they find out if we – WAPO 4 We got a get it sorted. If ’e ain ’ad ’n order ’e should ’ave. WAPO 5 (to WAPO 3) ’Ow’d they find out? (To WAPO 4.) Dont ’e trust us? (To WAPO 3.) ’Oo’d tell ’em? WAPO 1 Ain mean that! – WAPO 5 ’Oo’d tell ’em? WAPO 4 Drop it! ’E’ll ’ave us all stuck in ’is wall! Listen. We give ’im a chance. ’E come back ’n say – orders or no orders – we’re returnin t’ unit: finish. ’E come back ’n say anythin else – anythin – we shell ’im. Okay? Silence. The WAPOs nod in the silence. WAPO 3 ’Oo does the – ? WAPO 4 Draw for it. (He takes a box of matches from his gear.) WAPO 3 Shittin jesus. Less git in the trucks. Drive off. Report back. Tell ’em ’e’s a nutter. They can sort it out.

WAPO 4 It dont ’ave t’ be. We give ’im the chance. He takes four matches from the box. He drops three into his helmet. He strikes the fourth match. Shakes it out. Waits till it stops smoking. Drops it in his helmet. Shakes the helmet. Holds it out. ’Oo’s first? WAPO 1 (after a slight pause. WAPO 2) An ’im. Put ’im in. WAPO 4 ’E werent part a’ the discussion. WAPO 1 We’re all in it. Got t’ be. WAPO 5 Yer trust ’im with a weapon? WAPO 3 Jeesus ’ow’d I git in t’ this? My bloody life’s in a matchstick! WAPO 4 puts a fifth match in the helmet. He shakes it. Holds it out. WAPO 4 No fiddlin with the fingers. Dip in, straight out. WAPO 1 takes a match. It is blank. Shows it and throws it away. WAPO 4 shakes the helmet. WAPO 5 takes a match. WAPO 5 No. Pity. Wouldnt mind a shot at ’im. (He drops the match.) WAPO 4 shakes the helmet. WAPO 3 (realising) ’Ang on! – I’m left late! Stacks the luck against me. WAPO 4 I ain pick yet. WAPO 3 takes a match from the helmet. It is blank. Shows it. Puts it in his pocket. WAPO 4 gives the helmet to WAPO 1. WAPO 1 shakes it. WAPO 4 takes a match. Looks at it. WAPO 4 (WAPO 2) ’Im. (Shows the match. Drops it.) WAPO 3 Less git in the trucks n’ go! WAPO 1 (goes to WAPO 2) Oi! – Oi! (Kicks WAPO 2’s leg.) WAPO 2 wakes. Sits up and shakes his head to clear it. WAPO 1 Where yer bin? WAPO 2 What? WAPO 1 What yer bin up to?

WAPO 2 ’Oo tie me legs? WAPO 1 Yer bin in a dream. WAPO 2 (untying his ankles) Whass all this for? WAPO 1 (shows WAPO 2 the helmet) While yer was akip – (He is about to put his hand in the helmet.) WAPO 3 No! – ’e ’as t’ take it! WAPO 1 (Holds out the helmet to WAPO 2) Take it. Dip yer ’and in. (WAPO 2 goes on untying his ankles.) Yer threatened us. WAPO 5 ’E tried t’ kill us! (To WAPO 2.) All a’ us! WAPO 4 (to WAPO 5) Wrap it! WAPO 1 In yer kip. WAPO 2 stares at them. Goes back to untying his ankles. WAPO 1 ’E dont believe me! WAPO 2 Leave it out! WAPO 1 Thass why ’e tie yer up. WAPO 5 In case! – yer berserk bastard! WAPO 1 (helmet) Dip in t’ that. WAPO 2 (takes out the burnt match) Whass that for? (Realises the rope is still on his ankles. Kicks it away.) I never done – (Looks around.) – just kip – He stands. Looks around for his automatic. Takes a step. The WAPOs raise their automatics. WAPO 2 stops. I ain –. What is this? WAPO 4 Y’ad a turn in yer kip. ’S all right. Nothin ’appened. WAPO 2 (used match) Whass it for? WAPO 4 We got a mad chief – right? We sorted it while yer was out. We’re all in it. An yer. Yer stay out, yer free t’ grass us when we git back.

(Gestures to WAPOs.) Yer trust ’em – knowin that? – I wouldnt push me luck. Stick t’gether – no one’s ’urt. ’E’s got ’is chance. ’E says we join the unit – ’s finish. ’E say anythin else: yer the burnt match. (Jerks head.) Get yer weapon. WAPO 3 (winces) Jeesus – shit. WAPO 2 I ain took – ain took no part in no – WAPO 1 Tried t’ wake yer. WAPO 2 Yer stitch me up! WAPO 5 Yer sayin we drop yer in the shit? WAPO 2 Yeh! Thass what I’m sayin! That! While I was akip? – chriss I’m dreamin now! A truck in the distance. WAPO 4 Look at the state a’ this – ! Git the place straight. Give it some military presence. (Gives WAPO 2 his automatic.) Right. WAPO 3 Jesus! WAPO 4 Yer got the match. It’d could a’ come out different, could a bin me. Yer trained t’ act under pressure. No more talk. Do it. WAPO 2 No! The other WAPOs tidy the gear but watch WAPOs 2 and 4. WAPO 4 Yer doin it for yer mates. One a’ us step out a’ line, we all end up sharin the same funeral. WAPO 2 No! WAPO 1 We ’ad it sorted yer little shit! – WAPO 5 Yer got the match! WAPO 4 (to WAPO 5) Shut it! (To WAPO 2.) Soldiers ’ave t’ depend on each other! WAPO 2 If yer kill ’n officer – normally yer expect t’ be consulted first!

WAPO 4 Situation ain normal. It ain the edge a’ the world – we dropped off it! WAPO 2 No! I werent arst. Yer could a’ woke me up! The other WAPOs stop work to watch WAPOs 2 and 4. WAPO 4 The prisoner does it. WAPO 1 ’Oo? WAPO 4 Yer prisoner in the truck. WAPO 3 Put a gun in the ’ands of a – ? Give a gun to a – ? Yer madder ’n ’e is! The truck stops. WAPO 5 runs up to the ridge. Looks off. WAPO 4 Use yer jacket. Do it like ’e did. WAPO 3 (stunned) With the – ? Yer think ’e’d let yer do – ? – with the jacket! WAPO 4 It was ’is idea. ’Arf set it up ’isself! Should appeal t’ ’im. (To WAPO 2.) Yer start it – ’e wont agree else. (To WAPO 3.) ’E wouldnt trust a prisoner with a gun? – (To WAPO 2.) ’e’ll trust you with a jacket. We all ’ave t’ trust yer. When it’s started, when yer got it goin – the prisoner takes over. (To WAPO 3.) You set ’im up. Get back t’ the truck. Tell ’im what ’e’s got t’ do. WAPO 3 ’Ow? What d’I tell ’im – ? WAPO 4 Anythin! WAPO 3 ’Ow’d I make ’im – ? WAPO 4 Give ’im ’n order! Anythin! Tell ’im – when he does it – a favour for us – ’e’s free t’ go! We’ll drop ’im off somewhere. WAPO 3 ’Ow’d I – ? WAPO 4 Use yer loaf! For shit’s sake – ! Like this we can even tell the unit the truth as it ’appened! Prisoner slipped off the truck – killed ’im with what ’appened t’ be t’ ’andy – ’n we shot the prisoner. WAPO 5 comes down the slope. Makes a sign.

WAPO 4 ’E’s still got ’is chance. Luke comes over the top of the ridge. Luke We’re goin back t’ the ’ouse. WAPO 3 goes out. WAPO 4 Did the unit send ’n order? Luke Yeh. WAPO 4 They said return t’ base? Luke Yeh. (Looks at them.) It’s bin rescinded. Bin on t’ ’em. Situations change. We stop out till we clear the stragglers. (To WAPO 5.) Find any? WAPO 5 No. Luke Wouldnt ’ave. They’re ’id – still out there. Less go. Get the trucks loaded. WAPO 1 Now? Luke Load it. WAPOs 1 and 5 collect gear and take it out. WAPO 4 Yer bin t’ the ’ouse? Luke Reccy. Chance the bitch we – if there was others with ’er they could a’ ’id out there. WAPO 2 goes out with gear. WAPO 4 We ’ad ’n incident while yer was out. Nothin in it. Tell yer so yer know. (Nods after WAPO 2.) ’Im. Luke O? WAPO 4 What we did t’ the bitch – it’s got into ’is ’ead. Talked in ’is sleep. ’E was close t’ ’er – stood next – so ’e ’eard what she said. Come back t’ ’im while ’e slep. Luke She didnt say. I’d’ve ’eard. (Starts to go up the slope.) WAPO 4 If ’e told us what she said that’d answer the question. Relief all round. If ’e could’ve said then we’d still ’ave the kid.

Luke O I’d’a kill it. ’Ave to. (Stops. Hesitates.) Where was I goin? Fetch somethin out the truck. Gone out me ’ead. WAPO 3 comes on. WAPO 4 (to WAPO 3) Okay? WAPO 3 Yeh. WAPO 3 goes back out over the ridge. Luke Whass ’e say? WAPO 4 ’Oo? (Luke nods to the ridge. WAPO 4 shrugs.) Couldnt make it out. Some sound. (Nods to ridge.) Tottered along there in ’is sleep. What did yer want ’er t’ say? Luke What –. What ’appens when yer look in the barrel of a gun ’n know it’s the end. Or out a winder – if it comes t’ that. Yer wonder about it. Shouldnt. Should just git on with it. They say in the end the shock – it ain shock – can change the lines on yer ’ands – under the right circumstances. WAPO 4 Like people in accidents. Die – then survive ’n say – Luke All shit. Like nutters who play games. Kid they’re ’anging themselves. One day they go too far. Ain mean none a that. ’S not a game. Serious. Saw it in the house. That was serious. They knew. Everyone looks the same while they die. WAPO 2 comes on. Collects gear. Luke starts to go up the slope. WAPO 4 That why yer go back there? Luke (stops on slope. Turns to WAPO 4) What yer wan’ ’a say? WAPO 4 Shame yer werent ’ere when ’e said. ’E’s got a knack. Yer might’ve twig it. (To WAPO 2.) What yer say when yer was akip. Yer dont know dick’ead! Yer dont even know yer ’eard ’er say it. Went straight in. Then somethin ’as t’ let it out. With ’im – it’s sleep. Could be a jacket. Anythin. (To WAPO 2.) Get yer jacket off. Luke Yer serious? WAPO 4 Could work – with ’is knack.

Luke (sneer) Yeh? – the jacket ’eard! – Leave it. Get the gear stack – we’re movin. (WAPO 2 is undoing his jacket.) Keep it on! (To WAPO 4.) Ain right t’ play on the lad like that! Make a fool a’ ’im! WAPO 2 has taken off his jacket – it is on the floor. Luke picks up the jacket. Holds it out to WAPO 2. Luke Get properly dressed. What did yer say in yer sleep? (Turns. Goes up the slope.) Shite-’ouse question! (Turns back to WAPO 2.) Well what did yer say? WAPO 2 (mumble) Don’ know. Luke (half dismay) ’E went there in ’is sleep – ’n ’e’s still walkin round on two feet! (Goes up the slope.) Tol’ yer t’ get dress! (Realises he is holding WAPO 2’s jacket. Throws it to him.) ’As t’ be the same jacket! Mine! (Watches WAPO 2 put on his jacket.) If yer – if I let yer – put the jacket on me – I’d know straight away if it was goin t’ – yer could stop if it was nothin – WAPO 4 I’d stop ’im. Luke Stop ’im? ’Ow could I trust yer? No one’s trusted out ’ere. Ain got time for this. (To WAPO 2.) Well – t’ satisfy yer – if ’e’s obsessed. (Takes off his jacket.) Least it’d put a stop t’ it. If yer quick. Should smell of ’er. (Puts his face in the jacket. Inhales deeply. Abruptly drops to his knees.) Go on. (Hangs jacket round his neck.) Quick. Why’s ’e waitin? Got t’ load the gear. WAPO 2 goes to Luke. He fumbles with the jacket. Luke No – no – (He fusses with the sleeves.) – like – yer saw it on the bitch – no –. (The sleeves are round his neck.) Pull. ’Arder. (Tugging the sleeves.) Like this. Like this! WAPO 2 (stops) I did! Luke No yer – WAPO 2 (tugging) I did! I did! Luke Yer didnt! (WAPO 2 tugs harder.) Stop! (He drags himself away. Presses his fists on the ground. Head bowed.) ’Ow can I trust ’em t’ – (To himself.) Fool! – are yer mad! Stop it – before it goes too far –. (Turns to

look at WAPO 2.) When I make the sound – the sound in yer sleep – yer stop! – WAPO 2 Stop – Luke Yer know the sound – WAPO 2 (tugs the sleeves) Know the sound – WAPO 4 ’Elp ’im! Look away! Luke Cant! – ’ave t’ see ’is – WAPO 4 ’E cant do it ’cause yer look! Luke ’Ave t’ see what – WAPO 4 (forces Luke’s head down in the ground) Down! Down! Stick yer gob in the – dirt – Luke (struggling) Cant! – ’ave t’ – WAPO 4 Cant? Cant? They say cant in the ’ouse? She say cant? Aint no cant ’ere! Yer want it or – Luke Cant! Cant! WAPO 4 – I’ll take ’im off the job! (Pulls WAPO 2 away.) ’S over! Stupid idea anyway! Luke No – no – must – now I come so far – (Tries to pull the jacket round his neck. Jabbers.) – must do the – must – (Pulls the sleeves.) There’s nothin! Nothin! Why ain it work for me! (The jacket falls from his neck. He chokes. Flat.) Do it now. Do it now. Make ’im. Cant go back. WAPO 4 looks at WAPO 2 and points to Luke. WAPO 2 picks up the jacket. Twists the sleeves in a garrotte on Luke’s neck. WAPO 3 comes on the ridge. WAPO 4 signals to him. WAPO 3 goes back out over the ridge. WAPO 4 Twist it! Is that the best yer – ? Tight – twist – ! WAPO 2 (steps back) The sleeves are tearin out the – Luke (slumps forwards on his hands and knees) If I could ’ear a voice – nothin – as if I ’adnt said – for years – ain learn t’ speak – p’raps thass it – WAPO 4 ’Allucinatin.

Luke No – no ’all – ’alluc’ –. I ’eard yer speak. Why wont ’e – why cant ’e do the – is ’e afraid a’ somethin – ’e cant do – thass missin? (Stares at something on the ground. Picks it up. Sits. Stares at it.) Burnt matchstick. WAPO 2 walks away. Sits. WAPO 4 (to WAPOs) ’Elp ’im – The WAPOs watch. Luke sways to his feet. He holds the jacket to WAPO 2. Luke Kill me! Try t’ kill me! WAPO 2 sits still. Stares at the ground. Luke (anger) Or I’ll – Luke throws the jacket round WAPO 2’s neck. It falls lower on his back. Luke tightens it – pulling WAPO 2. WAPO 2 (struggling) Let go a’ – He jerks free from the jacket. He tries to throw it round Luke’s neck. Cant – cant – Luke Needs a little – only a – ’n I could – WAPO 2 (tugging. To WAPO 4) Why dont ’e come? – yer promise! ’E dont come! WAPO 5 (heckling from the slope. Points his automatic at WAPO 2) Do it! Do what ’e says yer shit! WAPO 2 (tugging) Why dont ’e come! WAPO 5 Do it! Do it! Do it! WAPO 2 (tugging) They’re goin t’ kill yer! Luke Liar! WAPO 2 They’re goin t’ kill yer! They’re goin t’ kill yer! Luke Liar! Liar! Makin excuses – WAPO 5 comes down the slope. He holds his automatic to WAPO 2’s head.

WAPO 5 Kill ’im! Kill ’im! Kill ’im! Yer would ’a kill me! WAPO 2 (tugging) ’E promise! ’E promise! WAPO 5 takes the jacket sleeves from WAPO 2. He strangles Luke. WAPO 5 That what yer want! – that ’ow yer! – that it? (Luke makes a distorted sound.) Whass ’e – ? (Luke makes the sound.) WAPO 2 (to WAPOs) Stop it – that means – stop – stop – ! Luke stumbles forwards on his knees. Searches along the ground. Tries to stand. Luke Me – gun – is – if I could see it in the dirt! WAPO 5 knocks Luke forward along the ground. Strangles him. A sleeve comes off the jacket. WAPO 5 holds it up. WAPO 5 ’E rip it off! Yer ain worth the ruin of a jacket! WAPO 3 comes on to the ridge with the prisoner. It is Peter. WAPO 5 (dangling the sleeve in WAPO 2’s face) Rip it off! Rip it off! The ruin jacket! WAPO 3 points to Luke. He pushes Peter down the slope. WAPO 2 sees Peter. Stands. Goes to him. WAPO 2 (to Peter) Dont! Dont! Dont kill ’im! Peter (stares in bewilderment at WAPO 2. Points to WAPO 3) ’E – WAPO 2 (shouts to Luke) ’E’s come! The killer’s come! WAPO 4 shoots WAPO 2. WAPO 2 is dead. WAPO 4 Out! – yer sort! Not in my squad! Not in my command! Luke crawls on the floor. He reaches a shield. He tries to crawl under it. It slithers away. Luke If I could – Peter goes to Luke. WAPO 4 kicks away the shield. He gives Peter the jacket. Peter slides it under Luke’s throat. Luke’s face is turned away from Peter to the ground – they do not know each other.

Luke – live my life – Peter pulls the sleeves. Luke’s body goes rigid. WAPO 4 Finish it! Peter pulls tighter. Luke The jacket’s – what is – jacket’s turn t’ iron – ! WAPOs (punching the air. Stamping. Chaos) Ah! Ah! Ah! Luke (still not seeing Peter) My father! My father! Peter bends lower. Knees Luke’s back. Throws the jacket away. Strangles him with bare hands. Luke jerks like a landed fish. Peter (throttling. Lethal) Why does ’e – try t’ stop me – when it’s goin so good – ? Luke jerks forwards. Twists. Sees Peter’s face. Points. Luke My father! WAPOs panic. Back up the slope. WAPO 1 drops his automatic. It slithers down. WAPO 1 (hoarsely) Father! WAPO 3 Trapped! WAPO 5 Trap! WAPO 4 Trucks! WAPO 1 (automatic) Me – ! WAPO 4 Trucks! WAPO 3 Trucks! WAPO 1 snatches his automatic. The WAPOs run off over the ridge. Peter stares at Luke. He half raises his hands to protect himself. Luke sways to his feet. Stumbles. Protectively cradles his arms round himself. Looks at the ground. Shivers. Peter I didnt – (Stares at Luke but gestures towards the ridge.) – men – told me –

Luke stands still. Peter goes up the slope and out over the ridge. Luke hears the noise Peter makes – lifts his head. Looks round. Sees WAPO 2’s body. Luke (to WAPO 2) ’Elp me. Luke falls awkwardly to the ground. Crawls. Off, a truck starts and drives away over rough, pitted ground. Luke bumps into the shield. Pulls himself up on it. Stands upright behind it. Off, a truck starts and drives away. The sound of the engines fades slowly. Silence. Luke stands motionless behind the shield. Peter comes over the ridge. He carries a kitchen chair. He goes to Luke. Luke does not see him but makes an awkward movement with the shield to defend himself. The shield falls to the ground. Peter sets the chair behind Luke. Pushes Luke on to it. Picks up the rope. Ties Luke on to the chair. Goes behind it. Crouches. Lifts it on his back as if it were a papoose. Carries Luke out up the slope. Silence. The dip is empty except for WAPO 2’s body and the shield.

Five The room. The walls are blackened and pockmarked with bullet holes. The mattress has slumped down on the wall. It is streaked with black blood and human filth and torn by bullets. Clotted stuffing hangs down like entrails. It has been reinforced with cushions and padded towels and sheets. String rope is stretched across it to hold it together. There is a dark stain on the floor below it. A blackened tin sheet has been nailed over the window. The remains of the curtains hang at one side. They are threadbare and covered with cobwebs. A table and one chair, both greasy and chipped. Heaps of decaying rubble. Dead are scattered over the floor. They are covered in filthy clothes, rags and a few blankets. Their death-wounds are old and dry. Cold light comes through the open doorway. Donna (off) All done. (Pause.) Ready now. Ready. Pause. Donna comes in from the side door. Her clothes are filthy and ragged. She wears two coats, one over the other. Her face and hands are unwashed and weather-beaten. She has tried to tidy her hair but it is dishevelled. Her movements are awkward but measured as if she were pushing against a door to open it. She carries a ladle and a bowl of scraps. (Rattling the ladle against the bowl.) Ready, ready. ’Ere it is. (She puts the bowl on the table. She stirs it with the ladle.) Poor things. I made yer wait. Only minutes but yer think it’s for ever. She moves among the dead ladling out the scraps. Some of them fall on the dead and their clothes but each time she returns the ladle to the bowl it is almost as full as before. There. Careful, careful. Good. Eat it while it’s ’ot. While it’s still got the nourishment in it. Taste it. Is that good? Look – yer spill it on yer –. (She wipes a mouth with her coat flap.) ’Cause yer snatch! Once there was some manners. Different world those days. (Moves on. Her dress catches.) ’Oo tug my – ? You! (She pulls her dress free.) No more! Greed – see it on yer face. Yer ’ad yer ’elpin. All get their share. No one go without. Share ’n share alike. Take more ’n yer share yer take it from other mouths. (Moves on.) Thought a’ yer when I made it! – it’s yer favourite t’day. (Moves on.) ’Ere’s ‘Clench-teeth’. Always clench ’er teeth. Must eat, must eat, must eat.

Too ’ot. (Blows on the ladle.) She dont like it ’ot. There – that cooler? (Moves on.) Yer peeky. Same yesterday. Dose yer again. (She puts down the bowl. Goes towards a heap of rubble. Turns, comes back. Moves the bowl away from the dead.) No light fingers ’elpin theirself be’ind me back. (She goes to the rubble. Finds a glass bottle – pale, transparent, cracked, a corner of the bottom broken away. Inside it the dry stains of a white liquid. No cap. She takes a plastic spoon from her pocket. Goes back to the dead. Kneels. Pours from the bottle into the spoon. Holds the spoon to the dead mouth.) Sip. Sip. Air. Pure air. It makes yer well. Ozone fruit a’ the sea n’ mountains. People swore by it. (To dead.) No no – ain dose all a’ yer. Ain sweets. Precious. (Holds up the bottle to see how much is still in it.) No more when this goes. (She nurses the dead.) I take care of yer. This werent yer place when yer first come ’ere. Yer made it yourn. (Takes off a coat. Covers a dead.) ’Ide yer wound. It gives the others distress. (Stands. Sees the bowl. Picks it up.) ’Oo ain bin fed? (Feeds a dead.) No one go without. She goes to the table. Puts the bowl and medicine bottle on it. Sits. Eats. Gets ’arder t’ cater for yer. Animals get there first. Eat the ground bare. Once I could go t’ that door. Scatter crumbs t’ the birds. Yer dont believe me. It’s true. World was different then. An we didnt know. Yer shant go without. I’ll manage. If ever I said no, look away, or turn yer from the door – I’d go mad with the shame ’n sadness. Peter comes to the door. He watches Donna. She does not see him. She picks up the medicine bottle. She goes slowly to the rubble and puts the bottle back. She finds a piece of mirror. Picks it up. Stares at her face in it. Donna The spider ’as its right t’ a corner a’ the mirror. (Puts mirror down. Sees Peter.) What yer want? Wrong ’ouse. Yer mistook –. No room. Peter (stares at her) Yer dont know me. Donna No room. Peter Thought I’d find yer livin in a ditch. Saw the ’ouse miles off in the rubble. Standin on its own. Thought I see a miracle. Donna No room! Come arstin! Peter goes to the table. Sits.

Peter She dont know me. (Buries his head on the table.) Thought I’d reach the bottom. Nothin could get worse … Done all his – come all this far – for what … ? Donna goes to the table. Hides the bowl and ladle. Donna Ain use ’em. Peter (exhausted) Chriss chriss chriss chriss. Donna Ornamental. Found ’em in the ruins. Peter Woke up one mornin. Place empty. Yer gone. Knew where t’ find yer. Came t’ take yer back. Donna No food. Peter ’Ow can yer live in this filth! Think! Where was yer before? Yer must ’a bin somewhere! Donna … This is where I bin. Peter goes out. Donna (to dead) ’E’s goin! I told ’im! No right! – a stranger knockin on doors – … filth … (She goes to the door. Looks out. Stops short.) ’E’s got a – (Turns to speak to dead.) ’E’s brought one out the ruins. She goes to the dead. She moves bodies and rags – clears a space. Peter comes through the door. He carries Luke bound to the chair. He sets it down. ’Ere. Put ’im ’ere. I clear ’is space. Peter Look at ’im. Donna looks enquiringly at Peter – then peers at Luke. Donna ’E ain … (Looks at the dead, then at Peter.) This ain ’is place. It ain ’is time yet. Cant come – Peter Try t’ remember ’im! Donna Take ’im away! Get out! Both a’ yer! Peter (almost inaudible) What do I do? What do I do? Donna Yer dont belong ’ere!

Peter I was on the way t’ fetch yer. Police pick me up. Said they got a job for me t’ –. They asked more ’n they knew. I carry ’im ’ere. Even before that I was so wore out I was walkin on me guts. But I did it – brought ’im – Donna Take ’im away! Peter Now what d’I do? What more? (Rage.) All me life! – years ’n years a’ it – in this ’ouse! I go on – for what? Donna No use t’ shout at ’em. They dont lose patience now. (To Luke.) I’m sorry I cant feed yer. I take care a’ these. Be ’appy for ’em. Yer suffered. I can see it. But yer ain suffer what they ’ave. They suffer more. Go with ’im. ’E’ll find yer somewhere ’n feed yer. Peter No! ’Ad enough! (Kicks off his shoes. Goes to Luke. Takes off his boots. Donna looks helplessly at the dead.) Yer dont remember? I do! Tired a’ carryin ’arf the world on me back! I done it for years! (He puts on Luke’s boots.) ’E dont need ’em. Couldnt take ’im with me if I wanted? Where’d I go? After what ’appened between ’im ’n me ’e’s mark me for life! They got me listed! Yer look after ’im! – thass what yer wanted! I’ll look after meself for once! Peter goes out through the door. Donna (to dead) ’Ush, ’ush. (She goes to the door. Shuts it but leaves a crack. Peers out through it.) ’E’s goin. (Turns to the dead.) Stumblin over the bricks! (Stops.) It’s cold. What is it? ’E upset yer. So cold I thought it was comin out the ground. (She pulls her clothes tighter. Goes to the dead.) Yer gloves a’ split at the side – poor fingers peekin out like nosy children. Button yer –. Poor little – poor little – Luke ’Ungry. Donna takes off her other coat. Spreads it like a blanket over the dead. Donna Who shall I – ? (Pulls it to cover another dead.) Share it, share it. Warms me t’ see yer warm ’n cover. (Tucks it in.) Still cold. (Looks round. Sees Luke.) It’s ’im! – ’e brought ’is coldness in. Luke ’Ungry. Donna goes to Luke.

Donna He ’oo causes, cures. (She takes off his jacket and trousers. As she does she speaks isolated, mechanical words.) That. ’Nd. ’Nd. The. (She takes the jacket and trousers to the dead. She spreads them like blankets.) Still cold. (She chaffs their hands.) Yer must eat. Get the warmth back or yer’ll perish. (She goes to the bowl.) So little t’ –. Not enough for all a’ –. ’Oo shall I – ’oo’s cold, ’oo’s ’ungry, ’oo’s wounds ’urt t’day? I know all yer stories. No secrets. Dont ’ave t’ say. Your faces tell me. Yer got time on ’em like a mask. If I couldnt understand ’em I wouldnt understand even if yer spoke. Yer tears’re so sharp they scratch yer face. Luke (stretches out his arms to Donna) ’Ungry. Donna (points to a dead man) This one cant be silent. ’E died with the word in ’is mouth. The gun fired – ’e started t’ speak – when the bullet reach ’im the word was still in ’is mouth – clench in ’is teeth. (Takes stone from dead man’s mouth. Holds it up – shows it to the dead.) ’Is word: stone. (Holds it to their ears.) Listen. Listen. Listen. There – give yer yer word back. (Puts the stone in the dead’s mouth.) It’s clench in ’is teeth. ’E ’olds it like a baby’s dummy. Luke stretches his arm further towards Donna. Falls. Lies still. Donna (to dead) Sleep now. Lie still ’n try t’ sleep. She goes to Luke. Stops a little way from him. She puts the bowl and ladle on the floor. ’Ave t’ put ’im outside. (She fetches the handcart from the door.) Take ’im far out. ’E wont come back. I know a crack in the earth. Drop ’im in it. Wont get out. Wander up ’n down in it. ’Owlin. Wont disturb yer. Yer wont ’ear. Yer ears’re stuff with lead. (She pushes the handcart to Luke. The wheels squeak. She stoops to pick him up.) Take yer walkies in me cart. – No. (She picks up the bowl. Eats.) Spared the journey. If I took yer out I’d ’ave t’ bring yer back. (Eats the last scrap.) I’ll put yer in yer place soon. I clear it for yer. Luke Give me somethin t’ – Donna Yer’d take it from their mouths. When I move yer yer can eat yer fill. (She puts down the empty bowl. Looks around. Is lost.) … Where’s my ’andcart? I was … I ’avent fed my dears. Sorry, sorry. ’Urry before the animals steal it from us.

Donna wheels the handcart out through the door. Luke pulls the chair towards him. It topples over. He crawls to the table. He tries to haul himself up on it. Can’t. He tilts the table. The bowl slides a little way towards him. He tries to tilt the table further. Can’t. The table slowly sinks back. He fights for breath. He tilts the table again. It shakes violently. The bowl falls. It breaks on the floor. He drags the pieces towards him. Wipes his finger on them. Licks his finger. A sound of satisfaction. Wipes his finger on the pieces again. Licks his finger. Luke Dirt. Dirt. He picks up a piece of bowl. Holds it to his chest while he gets his breath. Pulls himself up on the table. Goes to the dead. Holds out the broken bowl. Begs. Pity. (He wanders among the dead, holding out the piece of broken bowl.) Pity. Pity. Pity. Give me somethin t’ –. (He drops the piece of bowl. Holds out one hand.) Pity. (Holds out both hands.) Pity. (Looks around. Falls to his knees. Crawls over the dead. Searches for food. Finds a scrap. He can eat it only slowly.) … Thank yer … Live for a little … now. (There are no more scraps.) Cold. Cold. Give me some shelter. Shelter. Take me in. (He lifts a dead woman. Holds her.) Better. Better. He pulls a corner of the dead woman’s blanket towards him. She is uncovered. He buries himself in the blanket. He sobs under it for a moment. Silence. The wheels of the handcart are heard outside. The door opens. Donna comes into the doorway. She leans on the post. Donna (exhausted) ’Ere. Said. Ain far. She turns in the doorway. She drags in the handcart. She turns it to face the dead. Woman is propped in it. Out the ruins she come. Dumped in the cold. Werent there before. Know the place, bin there. Skeleton in a winder. (To Woman.) Look – there’s the company I promise yer. Wont want for friendship. (Pushes the handcart to the table.) Newcomers ’ave a place at table till they settled. Chair a’ ’onour. She puts Woman in the chair. Looks around for the other chair. Sees it on the floor. Sets it upright. Sits. She is still out of breath. Stares at Woman.

Yer ain mark. They are. ’Oles ’n tore limbs. Broken bones. Crush. Yer wound’s inside. ’Ave yer suffer so much? See it in yer face ’n ’ands. One a’ my little – when ’er time come – she ’id ’er face in ’er ’ands – ’n what was on ’er face come on ’er ’ands – like a picture – now she sit ’n looks at ’er own sorrow. (To dead.) Ain tell ’er yer secrets. Just give ’er comfort. (To Woman.) Now yer with ’em ’oo know. No one ’urt yer ’ere. Dry. Roof. Wind kep out. Fed. We share ’n share alike. Yer want for nothin now. I ’ave a feedin –. (Looks for the bowl. Finds a broken piece on the floor. Shows it to Woman.) I feed ’em from my bowl. (Realises the bowl is broken.) It’s broke. (Sees another broken piece on the floor. Points at it. Looks down. Realises she is sitting on Luke’s chair.) Someone bin ’ere? – while I was out – (She goes to the door. Shuts it. Turns to the dead.) ’Ave yer bin fightin for the – when I was out – broke our – ? (Goes to the dead.) Yer all mess up – yer clothes –. (She finds the pieces of broken bowl among them.) Someone bin! (Sees the uncovered dead woman.) ’Oo’s ’ad yer – ? (Lifts the blanket. Sees Luke. Hesitates.) O yer come quickly t’ yer … (Touches him.) No! Yer aint! Yer bin stealin – from the – ! Stole their blanket! Stole their food! Stole the bowl! Broke it! ’E ain ’uman! (Lifts up a dead woman.) Look! This one! – ’er tears ’re stuck in ’er eyes like pins! She cant cry ’em out! Ain they suffer enough? – now yer steal their bread! (She collects the pieces of bowl.) Broke! (She takes the pieces to the table. Puts them down in front of Woman.) ’E broke our bowl! Compare ’im to a wound? – ’e’s worse! She drags Luke to the table. She sits him in the chair facing Woman. Takes a rope from the rubble. Ties him in the chair. Settle yer ’ash. Luke Give me somethin t’ – Donna Yer ’ungry? Yer dont know the meanin! They’re ’ungry – inside ’n out! (She fetches more rope from the rubble. Ties Luke tighter. To the dead.) ’E wont steal again! Make sure a’ that! (Goes to the dead woman. Rearranges her blanket.) Yer’ll soon be warm. I’ll go ’n find for yer. (Apology.) Brung ’er back – cant leave ’er out t’ perish. (She goes to the table to get her handcart. To Woman.) Beware a’ ’im! Watch ’im! ’E destroy everythin ’e touch! (She pushes the handcart to the door.) Everyone a’ yer be fed. I promise. Donna goes out.

Luke (stares at Woman) … I see yer before … ’Oo tied me t’ this chair? Where am I? I seen yer in a lookin glass. Glass – somethin a’ glass – ? What was – ? Shadder a men with guns. Pointin the –. Yer. Yer were in the glass. Remember? Remember – yer tried t’ say somethin. What did yer try t’ say? There was a truck. We found yer in the ruins. Brought yer with us. Woman ’Ungry. Luke Look at me! Yer remember the truck? I arst yer t’ speak – tell me – yer wouldnt. Why not? Yer could’ve. It was yer place – a mother’s place t’ say. Woman ’Ungry. Luke I could a’ stop the –. Everythin a bin different! Yer could a said anythin! Anythin! I’d’a believe yer! All this would a vanish! Yer tried in the end! I made yer! I showed yer yer baby! Yer made a sound! Too late! Too late! What did yer try t’ say? Tell me now! No one else’ll ’ear! What ’appens in the end? What is it? What yer see? What is it none a’ yer say? What yer know? Woman A baby. Luke When I showed yer yer baby yer said! Woman I ’ad a baby? Luke Yer baby – Woman I ’ad a baby. (Looks around.) Where is the? – Where’s me baby! ’Oo took me baby – ? Luke Yer baby’s dead – Woman Give me me baby! Where’s me baby? Please! Give me me baby! (She sees the dead. Goes to them.) ’Elp me! ’Elp me! I lost me baby! The dead stir. They begin to stand. Is me baby – ? Me precious? ’Ave yer got me baby? I want me baby! Where yer put me – ? Yer got me baby! (Begs.) Give me me baby! – baby – baby –. (Searches, pushing and pulling at the dead.) Me baby! Yer got me baby! Give me me – ! Where’s me – ! (Calls.) Baby! Baby! I’m ’ere! Mummy’s with yer!

The dead begin to search among themselves. Dead (murmur) She – woman – want – what – the – is – lost – a – why – she – where – One of the dead finds a baby’s arm. Look – what – the – look – arm – is – Woman (snatches the baby’s arm) Is that me baby? Another dead finds a baby’s leg. Another dead takes the baby’s arm from the Woman. Dead The – is – baby – leg – where – the – is – arm – baby – Woman Give me the – let me – ! Dead Wait – wait – find – where – ’ush – baby – now – baby – Some of the dead take Woman to the side. The rest search. The group slowly heaves, writhes, twists, turns, hands and arms rise and gesture. The dead groan in labour. Ah – ah – ah – where – the – what – baby – arm – there – look – what – there is the ’eart a’ the – put – the – baby – Woman (stretching her arms) Let go! Give me me baby! Dead The – skin a’ the – foot – baby – stomach – baby – The baby’s parts are passed out from the dead. Other dead take them. Carefully and gently they assemble them on the floor. ’And – where – back – look – baby – the fingers ’urt when I take them in me –carefully – carefully – gently – The last of the baby’s parts are given. Careful. The ’ead. The baby is made. It lies on the ground. One of the dead brings a rag. It is laid on the floor. The baby is laid on it. The dead gather round it. They point at it and gesture to each other. Stoop. Kneel. Crouch. They gaze in awe. Some cry silently. Nativity. Woman stands alone at the side. She is afraid to move or look. Her face is in her hands.

Woman Is it me precious? (She walks to the baby. Looks down at it.) The fists. (Kneels by the baby. Caresses its hands.) Me baby’s fists. Me baby. Open yer fists. Open them. (Carefully she tries to prise open the fingers.) Open yer fists for mummy me precious. Open them. It wont. It must – yer mother –. Open yer fists. No no dont clench yer – tighter when I – (She struggles to open the baby’s fists.) Open ’em! Open ’em! (She shakes the baby. Hisses through her teeth at it.) Open yer fists! Yer will open yer – ! ’Ungry! ’Ungry! (Shouts.) Open yer fists! The foods in its fists! Food in its – ! Give me! Give me! Give me! She tears open the baby’s fist. She claws the food from it. Crams it in her mouth. Stuffs her hand in her mouth to force the food down. Her gestures are tense and efficient. Dead watch unmoved. (As she eats.) The other one! Two fists! ’Ave that too! ’Ave that open! (Weeping with hunger. She grovels for dropped crumbs.) Ain waste the –. (Claws at the other fist.) Give me – yer – (Hits the fist.) Break – the – little – ! (Breaks it open. Shouts.) Yeh! (Eats.) Fists too little – t’ – yer let yer mother starve – me! – yer mother! – ain give me enough t’ live on! She sits on the ground. The dead begin to turn away. Woman licks the broken fists. Scrapes between the fingers. Her tongue searches for grains in her teeth. Munches. Swallows. Slobbers. The baby lies at the side. Luke (to dead) Tell me. (Some dead turn their heads towards him.) All a’ yer know. Yer all went t’ the end. Tell me. (The dead drift back to their places. A few look at the baby.) Yer know why I come ’ere – that brought me – or I wouldnt be ’ere. Tell me. (With a single wrench he breaks the ropes. Supports himself on the table.) Now at last I’ll know! (He limps towards the dead. They stare unmoved.) I dont ’ave – cant force anythin – now. I ask. Tell me, teach me what yer know. What ’appens at the end? Tell me somethin that makes sense a’ the life I ’ave t’ live! When yer put out the light – push the switch – the last little light before the dark – is like a flash – yer see all what there is – clear –. Tell me so I can go on livin? Tell me – so the others can live. Dont turn yer back. I kill yer. I ’ave a right t’ know! (The dead stare uncomprehendingly.) I kill all a’ yer. I made yer wounds. (He touches the dead.) There. There. There. (The dead lift their clothes where he touched. They stare at the wounds. Let the clothes fall.) This is where I killed. I stood yer there. (Mattress.) Yer saw me.

The gun. What ’appened? … I wont be driven mad by the dead! (Picks up handfuls of the spent rounds at the foot of the mattress. Takes them to the dead.) Take ’em! Feel it! Touch it! (He scatters the rounds at the dead.) They dont remember! I thought it’d be cut on yer tongues as if that was yer tombstone! Dead drift back to their places. Woman sits picking for bits. The baby is on the ground beside her. Luke goes to it, picks it up. Woman’s hand vaguely reaches to take it back but she goes on picking and eating. Luke goes to dead. Luke (holds up the baby) I kill it. The end’s the same for all a’ yer! I know that! I’ll show yer t’ remind yer. Played with it first. (Takes the piece of rag. Uses it as the jacket.) ’Oo’s Mr Coat then? Look at Mr Coat go walkies. (Covers and uncovers the baby.) Night. Day. Night. Mornin! (Goes to the door. Opens it. Turns to dead.) Mornin! Yer remember the mornin! (Dead stare at the open doorway. To baby.) I threw yer up – remember? – (He throws the baby up.) – ’n catch yer! (He catches the baby.) O it laughed! Grin yer could stick the ’orizon in! That what yer cant say? – yer laugh when I point the gun at yer? All yer life flash by ’n yer laugh! That it – a laugh! (No response.) I built a wall. Glass. (He pushes the dead into a line.) There. There. He walks away. Woman picks and chews. A wall. Then I finish it. (He lifts the baby by the scruff of the neck. Runs at the wall. Swerves.) Aaaaahhhhhhhhh! (He holds the baby by the neck. It dangles from his hand.) Sometimes when I point the gun at yer I let it drop – remember? Waited – ’cause I wanted t’ know. I always wanted. (No response.) Then I smash it on the wall. (He walks slowly to the wall. Slowly passes the baby’s face along the line of dead faces. Nothing. He sinks to the ground – still holding the baby up so that it seems to slide down the wall. He nurses it at the foot of the wall. To baby.) It’s all right. Yer’ll tell me. Yer wanted t’ tell me then. Share it. Felt it quiverin – in yer little limbs. Felt yer ’ole body quiverin with it. I threw yer up. Yer went on a long journey. I caught yer. Yer must be very old t’ know all that. Tell me. Woman (picking) It cant speak. It was too young t’ learn. Silence.

Luke It dont matter. Dont matter. (He stands and walks away from the others. He stops. Stands holding the baby against him.) If I knew I wouldnt be afraid any more. Yer know. Yer know it for me. It’s in yer ’ead. Safe. Keep it there. Peter comes through the doorway. He wears WAPO uniform. He carries an automatic. He stares at Luke. Luke does not see him – he has his back to him. He does not move. He nurses the baby. Peter comes into the room. The table and chairs have been moved from their first position. He goes to the dead. He kicks them. They rise slowly to their feet. They have become KZ Muselmänner. They move with age-old weariness. Are bent to the earth as if they peered into their graves. Peter points his automatic at the table and chairs. Dead go to them. Some fall. Are trodden over. Dead reach the table. Push it. It is as heavy as if the world stood on it. Dead struggle to lift it. It heaves slowly. A dead falls – Peter kicks it. Another dead fetches a rod from the rubble – beats the fallen dead. Frenzy. Dead drags chair. Collapses – Peter kicks collapsed dead. Dead fetch rods. Beat dead fallen and standing. Dead with blank placard on string round the neck wanders among dead. Dead picks up pieces of bowl. Puts them together. Peter kicks pieces from dead’s hands. Stamps on them. Dead picks up pieces – dead with rods surround it. Slow frenzy of kicks and blows. Dead dragged to mattress. Dead beat dead against it. Dead takes Peter’s automatic. Dead slumps to foot of mattress. Dead raise dead. Dead beat dead against mattress. Dead fires automatic burst. Dead falls to foot of mattress. Dead takes automatic from dead – dead beat dead against the mattress. Dead shoots dead. Dead falls to foot of mattress. Dead push – drag – fall – crawl – slowly the table is inched nearer the window. Peter shoots dead – they work on. Table topples over upside down. Crushes dead. Dead beaten. Dead drag upside-down table along the floor. Line of dead heave the table upright. The table rises a little – falls back – rises a little – falls back – rises a little – falls back – rises on two legs – dead heave – it thuds into place. Dead fall. Beaten. Dead collapses over chair. Beaten. Dead take chair to table. Peter sits in chair. Dead creep and

crawl to their places. It is still. Luke has not moved or watched. He nurses the baby against him. Silence. Peter (to Luke) Kid was dead before yer got it. Bin dead weeks. Fist cant open. Grip a’ the dead. Luke howls. Howls. Howls. Howls. Howls. Howls. Howls. Luke falls to the floor. Peter stands. Goes to the baby. Picks it up. Throws it on the dead heap. Goes towards the door. Trips on a dead. Dead rises. Goes to door. Opens it. Cringes as Peter passes and goes out. Dead goes back to its place. Lies down with the dead. Outside, the sound of the handcart wheels. Donna comes into the doorway. She leaves the handcart outside. She sits on the doorstep. Her hair is dishevelled. She struggles for breath. Donna Somethin’s ’appen. (Looks back out through the door. Turns back to room.) Ruins empty. Pick bare. The animals’ve left. No food. (She goes to the dead. Comforts them. Arranges their rags.) I’ll go again. When I got me breath. I’ll find – there must be … O I could lie down with yer ’n rest. (Confused.) What is it? Yer all … I was away so long yer thought I’d gone. Ain come back. Left. Never never would I do that – leave yer t’ lie in cold ’n neglect. (Confused.) P’raps there’s somethin in the cart after all. P’raps I mistook ’cause a the ’urry – She goes out through the door. Off, the handcart squeals. She comes back carrying a crate. It is heavy. All the time! Out there! ’N I cussed the animals for stealin yer –. (She empties the crate on the table. There is nothing.) Look! – all that! Ain it a lucky day! (Stares in wonder.) ’Oo’d a’ thought! All yer favourites! (Takes food to the dead.) Eat. Take it. Good nourishin – wholesome –. Cant let it waste. Plenty for all. (She offers.) Yer dont eat. Why dont yer – ? Should I a’ left it for the animals t’ eat – least they show gratitude! – not cart it all the way ’ere t’ rot! Sorry – ain cross – just – yer frighten me. (She goes to the table. Starts to pick a piece of food.) I’ll –. (Changes her mind. Chooses another piece.) Oo-oo lovely! The juice! Drippin. (Licks her fingers. Stops.) ’Oo move the table? ’Oo’s bin ’ere? Someone was – this time! (Silence.) The dead wont eat any more. They must. If the dead dont eat the livin die!

Terrible things will ’appen t’ the world. It’s started! Thass why I bin wanderin for days in the empty –. (She goes to the door and closes it.) Yer must eat! (She goes to the table – her hands search over it like a blind woman’s.) There must be – ! There used t’ be spilt food – bits a –. If I find – will yer eat – if I find somethin temptin – ? (She rummages in rubble.) Nothin! Nothin! There must be! (Looks round.) The dust. Dust. Eat the dust! Let me temp yer with the dust! (Scoops dust from the floor in her hands.) Eat it! Eat it! Please. Look – I bring yer the dust! (She scoops dust and crams it into the dead mouths.) Eat the dust! In yer state the dust could a drop from ’eaven ’n brought all its goodness with it! (Gets dust in a dead’s eyes.) O yer poor eyes – I –. (Wipes dead’s eyes.) Eat it ’n the world will live for ever! The world’s full a’ dust! They wont! I ain serve it right! They’re used t’ better service – (Finds a piece of bowl. Scoops dust into it. Offers it.) Eat. Eat. Or the world will be so ’ungry the livin will beg for food from the dead! (She puts dust into Luke’s mouth. Realises.) Not yer! (Claws it from his mouth.) Yer mother should ’a strangle yer at birth with the cord she bore yer with! Ain give yer the dust from under me feet! Kill ’im for me! Kill ’im! Dont tell me ’e’s dead! Excuses! Kill ’im all a yer! Kill ’im in all the ways yer died! Then ’e’ll be dead! If ’e ain come yer’d eat! ’E brought the famine on us! (Wanders searching.) There must be … ! (Sees something on the floor. Goes to it. Looks. Goes to the dead. Points back at the spot.) Look – on the floor. A crumb. (She goes to the crumb. Looks down at it.) We’ll live. We shall live. All of us. (She picks up the crumb.) It’s yers – thass why it’s there. Eat it. This is the crumb we was promise. (Holds it out to the dead.) Take it. Eat. Then I’ll take it out t’ feed the ’ungry. Share it in the world. For all t’ eat. – They wont. – If one a’ yer ate it – that’d be enough. Eat it even if it’s poison. Eat it if it’s bitterer than ’unger. I know yer’re dead – thass why I fed yer. Eat it for the livin – or they’ll die. I’m afraid. (Realises.) Ah I’m offerin yer ’n empty ’and. I drop it. Lost it. What ’ave I done? I lost the last crumb in the world. Where is it? Not ’ere. (Goes to the door. Opens it. Looks out.) Not there. (She turns back to the room.) I fed yer every day. Put food in yer mouth like feedin me own children. T’ meet a strange child in the street ’n know it’s your child. If the ’ole world was a plate with one crumb on it – I’d find it for that child. T’ meet the dead walkin in the street ’n know it’s yer. Now the world’ll die ’n the streets’ll be its tombstones. The grave’s come t’ the door. Ah I see I touch yer – yer’re cryin now. A tear on yer face. I see it. The light makes all

tears shine the same. (She goes to dead. Stoops.) Not a tear. The crumb fell on yer cheek. (Picks up the crumb. Holds it in both hands, one cupped in the other. Offers it. Silence.) They dont. A little while ago I’d’a found the words. Too late. The dead’ve gone. It was too cold ’ere for ’em. What shall I do? If I eat it somethin might live – a fly, a bird in an empty room. (She puts the crumb in her mouth.) Me eyes’re waterin. (Holds her throat.) Cant swallow. (Coughs.) It’s –. (Chokes.) Nails. Nails. Nails in me – (Spits.) Cant –. (Vomits.) Nails – pourin out me mouth. – a river a’ nails – coverin the floor – inside me – nailin me inside – nailin me t’ the –. (She falls. Struggles. Clutches her throat and belly.) Nails. (She lies flat. Her hand strikes the floor like a hammer.) Nails. (Her hand strikes once.) Nails. (Her hand strikes twice.) Nailin me t’ the earth. Donna lies still. Peter comes through the door. He wears his own clothes. He sees Donna and Luke. Hurries to Donna. Pulls her to her feet. She stares at him. He helps her to stand. Peter We must go. Police. Outside. Scoutin. Donna looks round. Stares at the dead. Sees Luke – half gestures towards him. Peter I’ll see t’ ’im. Pack some things. Donna is unsure where to go. Sees the side door. Goes towards it. Sees the dead. Stops. Stares. Donna We was in the – I went for a walk – walk for weeks – Peter Quick. Donna goes out through the side door. Peter shakes Luke awake. Peter Police. Cant stay ’ere. Luke goes to the table. Sits on a chair. Peter rummages in the debris. Finds shoes and trousers. Throws them to Luke. They fall in his lap. Peter Three of us. We got a chance. Heard the trucks days ago. Should a’ come. Didnt know what t’ do. Dont know ’ow t’ live any more. World in pieces. Buried in dust. (Throws a jacket to Luke.) Bricks stare out a’ it. Follow yer like eyes. Get dress.

Luke doesn’t move. Donna comes in through the side door. She has a plastic carrier. She stops and stares at the dead. Donna ’Ow long I bin ’ere? Peter (to Luke) Get dressed. Donna (gestures to the dead) Cant go back there. (Gestures to the dead.) Be ’appier with them. Least they was ’uman once. Peter starts to go to the door. Donna We cant leave ’im. Peter ’E’s only trouble. Peter and Donna reach the door. Peter stops. Donna waits. I tried t’ kill yer. Could a bin anyone. ’Ad a neck in a bit a’ rag. Little bones. Like killin a rabbit. Yer said father. I didnt stop. The strength shot down me arms. I strangle yer with me bare ’ands. Could a strangle yer with me ’ands cut off. Rip yer ’ead off with me stumps. – (Gestures round.) This yours? Yer done this? (No answer.) Come with us. If we understand some a’ what we do we got a right t’ live. No answer. A distant truck. Donna Truck. Donna and Peter go out through the door. The truck’s contorted sounds as it crosses the ruined ground in and out of dips. Luke stands. Goes to the dead. Finds a blanket. Wraps himself in it. Carries the chair further into the room. Sits. The truck stops near. Three doors slam. A shout – two indistinct words. Luke does not react. Silence. WAPO 4 comes through the door. At the same time WAPO 5 comes through the side door. WAPO 4 Reccy upstairs? WAPO 5 No. WAPO 4 Do it. WAPO 5 goes out through the side door. WAPO 4 kills Luke. A single shot. Luke falls. Topples the chair. Drags the blanket with him. Still.

Off, two single shots. WAPO 4 (faces into room but raises his voice to shout outside) Whassat? (Waits a second. Shouts upstairs to WAPO 5.) Dont need all day! Silence. WAPO 3 (off, shouts) Two biddies. An ’im n’ ’er. Leggin it. WAPO 4 (shouts upstairs to WAPO 5) Anythin – WAPO 5 (off, shouts) Nah. WAPO 4 fires an automatic burst into the dead. A few slightly rebound. WAPO 5 comes through the side door. WAPO 5 Whass the firin? WAPO 4 Shootin the dead’s fulfillin. WAPOs 4 and 5 go out.

People The fourth play of the Colline Tetralogy

Postern Lambeth Margerson Someone The late twenty-first century.

Open wasteland. Bare earth. At the rear a slope. Not oversteep but higher than a man. To the (audience) right the rim rises higher then slightly falls away. Away from the slope, left, Postern lies where he was shot. His overcoat is civilian. His other clothes and boots are militia fatigue. Lambeth comes on left below the slope. Her clothes are old and worn: beret, trousers, boots. She is bundled in a belted overcoat. On her back a sack hangs from a rope round her neck and shoulder. It bulges but is not full. She is tired but alert. She has already seen Postern. She stops to stare at him from some way off. Lambeth Wake? Lambeth goes up the slope to peer over the rim. Reassured she comes down to Postern. She puts her sack on the ground beside him. She opens his overcoat. His shirt is drenched in tacky blood. The blood gets on her hands. For a moment she stares at it without expression. She wipes her hands on the clean part of the shirt. She examines the shirt and immediately rejects it. She searches Postern’s pockets. Finds nothing. She searches the overcoat’s lining and hems. Nothing. She looks at the soles of the boots. She takes off one boot and is about to put it in her sack. Stops. She has heard something. She picks up her sack and goes up the slope. Her sack is in one hand and the boot in the other. She peers over the rim. She hurries back to Postern. She tugs at the overcoat. Gasps for breath. Tries to turn over the body. Margerson (off, calls) Len. Lambeth snatches up her sack. She starts to run left. As she runs she turns to look back over her shoulder at the overcoat. She goes back to it. Tugs. The body sprawls out on the ground. She puts her boot on its back and drags the overcoat free. She goes out left with the sack, overcoat and boot. Silence. Margerson comes over the rim. He is old and emaciated. His thin clothes are grey with age and pale with dust. They hang on him. The jacket sleeves are too short for his arms – as if he were a boy in clothes he had outgrown.

He sees Postern. He stops. Stares at him. Creeps a little closer. Stops. Peers across the space at Postern’s face. Margerson It was early one mornin. He pauses. Goes up the slope. Looks off. Goes to Postern. Searches his pockets in a haphazard way as if he expected them to be empty. He gets blood on his hands. He stares at it for a moment. He does not wipe it away. It was cold. ’E was still a boy but ’e shiver in ’is thin clothes. ’E bin woke early. Not ’ad no breakfast. Not even a swig a’ tea. ’E cross the square. Tarmac glisten. Traffic bollards on the side was white. Red rings paint on ’em. Bare trees on the edges. The men was stood there waitin for ’im on the far side. Some stamp or thrash their arms cross their chest count a’ the cold. Even from there ’e knew which one was chose. ’E never look direct. Body twist a bit t’ the side. Neck twist. (He lifts his head to listen for any sound beyond the rim. Pause.) This mornin it’d be routine. Nothin fancy that early in the day. When it was over ’e be serve ’is breakfast. The young ’re always ’ungry. (Sits.) ’E couldnt say ’ow many ’e bin called upon t’ do. Never concern ’im. Bin laid down in the trainin. ’E never look in the faces or see if it were man or woman. After the first ’e knew it never was a dog. Dog whimper. Claws scrape the tarmac as it shy away. People never did. ’E never shot bare flesh. Shot the clothes. ’E reach the waitin men. Man give ’im a rifle. (He notices Postern’s bare foot. Leans over to stare at it in silence. Sits back as before.) ’E lift the rifle. ’Is finger feel the trigger. He stops talking. Goes up to the rim. (Calls off.) Len. He barely waits for the answer he hopes for. He comes back to Postern. On the way he starts talking. ’E look at the face. It was ’is own age. ’E couldnt kill ’im. Never kill ’im. Not ’is own age. Never should a’ look at ’is face. Y’ad a killer’s face. ’Is eyes was ’oles punch in the ’ead. Knew straight off. ’E’d met ’is killer. The one ’e’d bin call t’ kill ’d kill ’im one day. The rifle drop. Men watch. (He wanders aimlessly in silence.) ’Is breakfast ’d be cold. They never kep it on a ’ot plate. He wanders a little longer looking aimlessly at the ground. Then he wanders up to the rim and goes out.

Silence. Lambeth comes back. Her sack is on her back and she carries the overcoat. She has been watching Margerson. She goes up the slope. Looks over the rim. She comes down to Postern. She takes off his other boot. She puts it in her sack. She goes up the slope and looks out over the rim. She watches for a moment. She is reassured. She comes down and goes right. She slumps in exhaustion. She takes the sack from her back. Arranges it to sleep against. She lies down and covers herself with the overcoat. She sleeps. Almost immediately she twitches and mutters. Lambeth … marks on the doorposts … measure their height … (She half sits in her sleep. Lies back again.) … cut each side the door … as they grew … (She tries to hide closer to the sack.) Margerson (off, calls) Len. Postern is sprawled face down. He has not heard Margerson’s call. He tries to lift his head. His hand slides to his face. Slowly lifts himself – not with his arms but by corkscrewing his body up. Crouches on his knees. Where he lay is a patch of blood. Bloody soil sticks to a side of his face. He sways to his feet. Totters a few steps. He tries to hug himself for warmth. His arms fall down and hang loose. He looks around at the emptiness. He sees the overcoat but not Lambeth or the sack. He goes to the overcoat. Reaches down for it. Falls to the ground. Drags the coat towards him. Margerson comes on to the rim. He silently watches Postern trying to get into the overcoat. Fumbles to put an arm in a sleeve. Postern does not know Margerson is there. Margerson If ’e was a novice never kill before the system was still in place. The men’d train ’im ’ow t’ kill. ’E was train. Killin was routine. Like breakfast. Now ’e refuse. The system fall t’ pieces. No one trust no one. Tarmac glisten. They lock ’im in a cell. Said yer got till mornin. Yer kill ’im or ’e kill you. Think. ’E knew already. ’E couldnt kill ’is killer. Never. If ’e bin a kid or old. Not ’is own age. ’E knew everythin. In the night ’e went mad. In the mornin the men led ’im out. Postern gets to his feet. He hugs the overcoat round him. He stumbles towards the rim. He does not see Margerson but is aware of something in

his way. He slowly veers away from Margerson. He goes out right. Margerson comes down the slope. Margerson ’Is killer’s waitin on the square. Men put a rifle on the ground. (Gestures stooping.) One-weapon duel. They mark out twenty paces each side the rifle. (He moves slightly left.) ’Im there– ’is killer there. First t’ get the rifle kill the one ’oo aint. Man say fifty paces. (Moves slightly left.) ’Undred. (Moves slightly left.) Must ’ave their joke. Lambeth shudders in her sleep. Wakes. Watches. Margerson does not notice this. Margerson (moves slightly left) Stood ’em either side the square. ’E cant move. ’S killer’s runnin. Jumpin. Do a cartwheel. Pick up the rifle. ’E ’eard the grit crunch under ’is killer’s boots ’n the racket a ’is own ’eart. ’E cant run away t’ live a second longer. Lambeth What yer want? Margerson (looks at Lambeth) ’E pass out. Lambeth What yer want? Margerson ’E cant be kill. ’As t’ know ’e’s bein kill else it dont count. Lambeth What yer up to? Margerson Ain a proper killin. Lambeth (getting to her feet) ’Op it! Got no right t’ –. Where’s me coat? Margerson ’Is killer ate ’is breakfast. Lambeth Mine! I got it first! (She grabs Margerson’s wrist. Shows him his bloody hand.) Look! – ’is blood off ’im! Yer took me coat! Where yer ’id it? ’E give it me before ’e’s dead! (Sees that Postern is gone. Stops.) Where’s ’e went? (She goes to the rim. Looks quickly out. Turns back to Margerson.) ’Ow long yer bin ’ere? Margerson It’s put off t’ t’morra. That night the camp’s raided. Lambeth picks up her sack. Puts it on her back. Lambeth Which way yer see ’im go? Margerson Cell burnt. ’E run away.

Lambeth Jabberin ol’ fool. Lambeth goes out right. Margerson goes to where Lambeth lay. He looks to see if something is left. Margerson The killer follow after. ’Eard ’is footsteps muffle in the shadow. Now ’e runs. He lies down. Sleeps. (Asleep.) The killer follow. Someone comes over the rim. He is young. His clothes are thin, shabby and pale with dust and wear. He has heard Margerson’s calls. He goes towards him. Stops halfway. Looks across at him. Margerson (asleep) It was early one mornin. Someone goes closer to Margerson. Peers down at him. Silence. Someone goes towards the patch of blood. Stops some way off. Goes closer. Stares down at it. Margerson (asleep. Calls) Len. Someone does not turn round to look at Margerson. He looks off left. Margerson (asleep) It was cold. ’E was still a boy but ’e shiver in ’is thin clothes. ’E bin woke early. Not ’ad no breakfast. Not even a swig a tea. ’E cross the square. Tarmac glisten. Traffic bollards on the side was white. Red rings paint on ’em. Bare trees on the edges. The men was stood there waitin for ’im on the far side. Some stamp or thrash their arms cross their chest count a the cold. Even from there ’e knew which one was chose. ’E never look direct. Body twist a bit t’ the side. Neck twist. This mornin it’d be routine. Nothin fancy that early in the day. When it was over ’e be serve ’is breakfast. The young ’re always ’ungry. ’E couldnt say ’ow many ’e bin called upon t’ do. Never concern ’im. Bin laid down in the trainin. ’E never look in the faces or see if it were man or woman. After the first ’e knew it never was a dog. Dog whimper. Claws scrape the tarmac as it shy away. People never did. ’E never shot bare flesh. Shot the clothes. Someone turns round to glance at Margerson. Without glancing at him again he goes out over the rim.

Margerson (asleep) ’E reach the waitin men. Man give ’im a rifle. ’E lift the rifle. ’Is finger feel the trigger. ’E look at the face. It was ’is own age. ’E couldnt kill ’im. Never kill ’im. Not ’is own age. Never should a’ look in ’is face. Y’ad a killer’s face. Eyes was ’oles punch in the ’ead. Knew straight off. ’E’d met ’is killer. The one ’e’d bin call t’ kill ’d kill ’im one day. The rifle drop. Men watch. ’Is breakfast ’d be cold. They never kep it on a ’ot plate. Postern wanders on. He is exhausted and shivers with delirious fever. The overcoat is draped on him. Margerson (asleep) If ’e was a novice never kill before the system was still in place. The men ’d train ’im ’ow t’ kill. ’E was train. Killin was routine. Like breakfast. Now ’e refuse. The system fall t’ pieces. No one trust no one. Tarmac glisten. They lock ’im in a cell. Said yer got till mornin. Yer kill ’im or ’e kill you. Think. ’E knew already. ’E couldnt kill ’is killer. Never. If ’e bin a kid or old. Not ’is own age. Postern … find me mates … lost … ’ow I get out ’ere ’lone in the … mates lookin for me. (Calls weakly.) Haah … Find me … there when yer need ’em … shoulder t’ shoulder … good times drunk after work done for the day … (Sings.) Comrades ’n – (Chokes. Calls.) Haah! … where’s me … (Sees blood patch. Stops.) Ow’d I get ’ere? Ain well. Someone shot. (Looks round. Does not see Margerson.) That much blood. (Falls.) Someone dead. (Tries to go up the slope – lifting his head and shoulders, levering himself on one arm and pressing against the side of his feet.) Me mates waitin for me … Margerson (asleep) ’E knew everythin. In the night ’e went mad. In the mornin the men led ’im out. Postern (calls) Haah … Margerson (asleep) ’Is killer’s waitin on the square. Postern collapses on his side. Looks back at the blood. Postern My blood. Bin shot. Why ain me mates ’ere t’ – ’elp me – ? Ain my blood! – me mates wouldnt let me be shot out ’ere by a – ! Ain. Ain my blood.

He staggers to his feet. Totters to the blood. Loses control – twists round – jerks himself back to the right direction. Stumbles towards the blood as if he were walking in an earthquake. (Clenched teeth.) Ain. Margerson (asleep) Men put a rifle on the ground. Postern reaches the blood. Stares down at it on hands and knees. Postern Ain! Ain! Ain! (Hits the blood with half-clenched fists.) Blood out a bastard deserve t’ be shot! Bastard! I ’ad a knife I’d rip yer open! – ’n squeeze yer like a tube a’ shit! Ain! Ain mine! (Staggers to his feet. Stamps on the blood. Feet slither.) Me mates done right! Shot yer! Brung yer out ’ere ’n – ! I’d winkle yer out the middle of a block a’ rock ’n kill yer! (Falls down.) I was with ’em! ’Elp me mates t’ kill – (Coughs.) Scum – scum! – like you – always – me mates sort it right! – Margerson (asleep) One-weapon duel. Asleep he walks to the rim. He marks out the duel with a few paces. He obsessively adjusts and readjusts the length and fussily changes the invisible rifle’s position. They mark out twenty paces each side the rifle. ’Im there – ’is killer there. First t’ get the rifle kill the one ’oo aint. Man say fifty paces. Postern (tries to sit up) It’s bleedin. Ground’s bleedin. Wet. Cant be. Come out a’ me when I stamp on the – ! Bleedin. Shot. ’S all my blood. Too much. Too much. I’m goin t’ die. They dont lose so much blood ’n live! A ’ole in me chest! Got a ’ole. Margerson (asleep. Fussing) ’Undred. Postern Left t’ rot out ’ere – (Calls.) Haah – call me mates – Margerson (asleep) Must ’ave their joke. Postern My blood. Mine. (Scoops bloody mud in his hands.) Put it back. If I put it back in my – Margerson (asleep) Stood ’em either side the square. Postern (smears mud on himself) ’S go back. Must go back. ’S far – far t’ walk – put ’ere – (Smearing.) Arms. Legs. Feet. Drips out me ’ands on t’

the –. (Smears feet.) Feet. Feet. (Tries to stand.) Feet – cant –. Me ’ead. Must think. Must stay alive t’ think – (Scoops mud. Presses it to his face.) If I can – think –. It wont – it wont – it falls – (Tries to catch the falling mud.) If it stays – stays – (Presses mud on to the top of his head.) – O chriss o jesus must I push the brains back in me ’ead so I can think! Me eyes ’re clog with blood – Margerson (asleep. Fussily measuring) ’E cant move. ’S killer’s runnin. Jumpin. Do a cartwheel. Pick up the rifle. (Changes the rifle’s position.) ’E ’eard the grit crunch under ’is killer’s boots ’n the racket a’ ’is own ’eart. Postern (scoops mud with both hands) Put it inside. Get it inside – then I live! (Crams mud into his mouth. Splutters. Vomits.) Must ’ave – must ’ave it in – ! Must get it in me body where –. Live! Live! (Sinks back.) Soaks away in the ground. Soakin away! Soakin me blood away! Parasite! (Gestures round.) All this parasite! Earth! Yer ’ave it when I’m dead! Yer take it from me when I’m alive! (Scoops up mud. Puts it in his mouth. A stone.) A stone! A stone! A stone! Yer choke me with me own blood! Contaminate it with dirt out yer cities! (Throws away the stone. Sinks back exhausted. Quiet.) I learned t’ write once. Could write in it with a stick. (His finger traces a stroke in the mud.) What shall I write in it yer parasite? – the prison number a’ the earth. Margerson (asleep. Fussing) ’E cant run away t’ live a second longer. ’E pass out. ’E cant be kill. ’As t’ know ’e’s bein kill else it dont count. Ain a proper killin. Postern (almost somnambulistically) If I get it in me heart. (Opens shirt.) The ’ole in me chest. (Scoops mud in the fingers of one hand. Holds it to the wound.) If it goes in. Push it in the ’eart. Eeeah. No ’urt. Feels cold. No – it bubbles back. Me body’s spittin at me. (Still.) Me army mates followed me ’ere. Me mates shot me. Margerson (as before) ’Is killer ate ’is breakfast. It’s put off t’ t’morra. That night the camp’s raided. Cell burnt. ’E run away. The killer follow after. ’Eard ’is footsteps muffle in the shadow. Postern Went wrong in the mornin. They brung the prisoners in the lorries. Camp full. No room. Unload ’em at the gate. Ain routine. Posted me as sentry in the gateway. Why’m I bin shot out ’ere? What I done so they did this? Do yer button up. (Pause.) Do yer button up. (Sways to his feet.) Do

yer button up. (Wanders.) Do yer button up. Give yer ’n order! Do yer button up! (Begins to rage.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! You! You! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Must ’ave order! (Staggers. Drifts. Sways.) Do yer button up! Do yer – do yer – button up! Button! Button! Button! (Rants and rages at large. Clutches and shakes his head in pain.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Lambeth comes on right. Her sack is on her shoulder. She stops and watches. She does not move. Postern does not see her. Postern (sees the blood. Points across at it. Screams) Do yer button up! Do yer button up. You! You! You! Do yer button up! Yer ’eard ’oo I said! (Closer to the blood.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Dont turn yer back at me! Do it up! (His arm reaches out to the blood. He draws back.) Cant. Cant. Cant go in – climb over the –. Stink! Stink a’ dead corpse ’n rag – ! (Pleads.) ’Elp me! Do yer button up! Please! Wont! Wont! Falls apart! (Hisses through his teeth.) Will! Will! Will! I give ’n order! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Asleep, Margerson fusses and paces on the rim. Postern does not see him. He forces himself halfway up the slope. Collapses. Postern (hoarsely to himself) Do yer button up. Do yer button up. Will! Will! Do yer button up. (Sees Margerson. Screams at him.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! You! Do yer button up! Asleep, Margerson paces and measures. Postern gets to his feet. Goes towards him. Postern Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Leans forward. Grabs the tip of Margerson’s cuff. Pulls him towards him. Weak with the effort.) Do yer button up. You. You. Margerson (asleep) Now ’e runs. Postern (shakes Margerson’s cuff – Margerson sways) Do yer button up! Margerson (asleep) The killer follow. Postern (energy explodes) Do yer button up. (Grabs Margerson. Shakes him violently.) Do yer button up! Postern throws Margerson down the slope. Margerson falls and wakes.

Margerson It was early one mornin. Postern (screams) Do yer button up! Margerson stands. He goes right. Sees Lambeth. He goes left. Sees the blood. Stops. Postern comes down the slope towards him. Margerson looks at his buttons. Postern collapses by the blood. Unconscious. Margerson goes out over the rim. Lambeth takes off her sack. She puts it on the slope. Watches Postern in silence. Goes to the rim. Looks off. Turns. Comes down the slope to him. She starts to pull at the overcoat. Unconsciously he clasps it tighter. She goes to Postern’s other side. Pulls at the overcoat. It stays on him. She kicks him once. He sits up. Head bowed in hands. Lambeth Give us yer coat. Postern looks sideways. Sees Lambeth. Stares. Lambeth Gi’s the coat. No use t’ you no more. (She pulls at the overcoat.) Yer die in it. Be ruined. Give it t’ me ’n I’ll look at yer wound. Might give yer a chance. No one else out ’ere ’d look at it. Postern (fainting) Gi’s water. Lambeth Ain waste water on yer. Too good. Postern Rinse me mouth – Lambeth Shouldnt a’ put muck in it. Look at yer! Grown man playin with mud like schoolboys do! Soldiers! Ain got the age yer was born with! Postern Cold. Lambeth Be colder before long. I’ll get the coat when yer dead. Before! – yer go in t’ yer coma. Then I’ll ’ave it. She goes to her sack. She unties it. Takes out bread wrapped in a cloth. Water bottle. Eats and drinks. Yer ain do yerself no favours. Like someone stab in the back – yer take the knife out ’n stab it in yer front. (Shows water bottle.) Drunk water – least yer go in comfort. (Goes to Postern with the bottle.) Dont yer want t’ live? ’Nough water t’ wash the dirt out where yer bin shot. Might do somethin for yer. ’S pure. (Slops a little water on the ground.) Can afford t’ share it if I get the coat. (Feels cloth.) Where yer get it? Quality. Ain what yer used t’

goin round in. Rob it. Yer from the army gangs. Thass where yer got shot. Ain the first t’ die in that coat. Yer make me wait – what for? Make me ’ate yer before yer die? – enough do that already. (Strokes cloth.) Fetch a good price. Still ’old markets in the North. (Goes back to her sack.) ’S coat worth waitin a quick death for. She empties her sack on the ground. A heap of rags. She sorts them into two piles: one good, one bad. Strip ’em in the dark. Too risky by day. Some greedy ol’ biddies do. They dont last. (Puts trousers on bad pile.) Rags. Ain know what yer gettin in the dark. (Examines jacket.) Jacket off a workin man. Smell ’is labour off it. Tore sleeve. Got wear left in it. (Good pile.) Party blouse. Stupid bitch ran in that. If she ain bin shot she freeze t’ death. Ain use t’ runnin. Fell be’ind the lot she was with. Kid even more be’ind. She never stay with it t’ ’old its ’and. Knows it’s ’er kid: woolly cap same colour as ’er party blouse. (Mutters.) Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Dont need t’ read their ’and. Know ’em from the soilin on their clothes. They’re worth. (Blouse and cap on the good pile.) Skirt caught on a nail. Cloth rip where she jerk it off. Shame. (Bad pile.) Margerson (off, calls) Len. Lambeth (ignores the call) Jacket. Linin rip out. Someone got there first. Bin a fortune sown in that. Left the jacket – ain need it after what they got already. (Good pile.) A sock. (Searches for the other sock. Not there.) It’ll turn up. Undergarments. (Good and bad piles.) Shirt. Good when I got me ’ands on it. Then the shirt screech! – it’s pullin me ’ands off! Though the dead was takin their stuff back! ’Nother scavenger got ’er ’ands on it. ’Eld on. Good shirt rip. Give ’er a clout made ’er teeth rattle. (Glances at Postern as she sorts.) Too many rob. Some nights they swarm on the bodies like rats. Livin robbin the dead. Or dead robbin the livin. (Puts shirt on bad pile.) Cant give it away. Sometimes I go mad – it keeps me sane. Found a ’alo on a body. Black ’alo. Thought it was. Rim of the end of a bucket. (She goes to Postern. She holds the sock. Listens for his breathing.) Yer should a die by now. ’Ang on. What good does it do yer? – that ’ole in yer chest never ’eal. Why ruin a good coat? Dirt. Blood. What for? ’Oo shot yer? Mates come back t’ see if yer still breathe – they’ll kill yer. ’S easy t’ die when it cant be put off. Seen ’em in ’eaps. Spread over the ground

where they bin shot. They dont know ’oo they are from each other – which bits belong t’ which – dogs drag ’em round – in the end they’re mix up in one big body spread in the field. I ain seen the coat I’d be gone. Ain leave it for someone t’ steal ’oo dont know the worth. (She goes to the rim. Looks off.) Wait too long there wont be no more markets. Gangs shut ’em down. ’Old sales outside the morgues. (She comes down. Throws the rags into one heap.) Rags! Rags! Sortin rags off the dead! ’Ow’d I come t’ this? (To Postern.) Yer got one wound! My life’s a wound inside ’n out! (Calms herself.) Must – must keep me mind in order. (Sorts the rags again.) Trousers. Tore knee. Bin stitch. (Wailing despair.) Stupid cow – stupid cow – use white stitches on a pair a’ dark trousers. No one thinks no more! If the universe crack they stitch it with white cotton ’n think they work a miracle! (She is going to put the trousers on the bad pile.) No. Blacken the stitches. Ain show. They’ll pass till it’s too late. Goes with the good stuff. (Puts trousers on good pile.) Jumper off a boy. (Lays it aside on its own. Mutters as she sorts.) Rags. It’ll sell. Anythin sell now. (Takes water bottle from her sack.) Give ’im water. Choke ’im – ’e ’as the kindness ’n comfort a’ water as ’e dies. Yeh – but what if it do ’im the wrong sort a’ good? – ’e could live on for days. (Goes towards Postern. Looks at the coat.) Not a tear. Just dirt. If ’e vomit ’n piss ’n bleed the price could be half. The dead are covered in filth. Worse ’n baby kids. ’S always bin so (Gestures round with one hand.) – all this ’n there’s no better way t’ die than turn t’ dirt. Funny way t’ go t’ ’eaven. (Goes back to the rags. Picks up the trousers.) Even black stitches’ll show. If it’s in the good pile –they’ll say it’s all trash! (Puts trousers on the bad pile. Takes the bottle to Postern. Unscrews the top.) Choke ’im. The markets ’re open. Finish ’im off. (Puts the bottle to Postern’s mouth. Trickles a few drops.) No! ’E twitch ’n grin at me for a fool – ’e thinks I’m already washin the dead! ’E’s out the gangs! (Points to rags.) Yer kill the bodies I strip the rags off! (Goes to rags. Shows them to Postern.) Yer shot the rags too! (Shows holes.) They ’ad t’ watch yer point yer gun at ’em ’oo wore ’em on their bodies! The rags suffer first! Yer ’eard rags whimper? (She tears a rag by Postern’s ear.) It rip ’n whimper! O a soldier! – ’e kill flesh but ’e dont know what ’e do t’ rags! Sacrilege t’ the labour a’ the ’uman ’and! (Takes more rags to Postern.) They’re dead – ’n I waste – give water t’ waste – waste – their water I could wash ’em in – on their killer! Yer steal water from rags! ’Ow can the world be saved – healed – when we waste the water belong t’ rags on killers! I couldnt bear ’em on

me back if I did that! Their tears’d scald me! (To rags.) I’ll get rid a’ ’im for yer! (She takes the rags back to the sack. Picks up the jumper. Takes it to Postern. Throws it across him.) Kill ’im! Do it! Now! Yer got arms! Break ’is neck! No – ’igher! (She pulls the jumper up to Postern’s neck.) Pull it. (She twists the sleeves.) Do it for yer mates in the sack! They chose yer t’ be their revenge! (Postern’s legs slowly rise. Knees bent. Heels pummel the air ineffectually.) Pull it. (To rags.) ’E’s killin ’im for you! When I got the coat yer price go up! (To jumper.) Do it! I carry yer every day on me back. Strangle ’im before the market close! She stands. She clasps her hands. Rubs them together uncertainly. She goes to the rags. Postern’s legs lower a little. Heels pummel more slowly. She picks up the trousers. (Puts trousers on the good pile.) Go with the good stuff. No one ain see the stitches. I’ll ’old yer so they cant. Charge ’em for the mend. (Going back to Postern.) Be glad for the good times. (To jumper.) Is it finish? No need to if I can get –. (She pulls at the coat. It won’t come.) Wont. Pull ’arder. (She stretches a jumper sleeve taut upright in air.) Look! Elastic rope! Yer made for it! (She tugs the sleeves round Postern’s neck. His legs rise. Heels pummel faster.) I ’ear the stitches tear out yer sockets! She stands. Clasps her hands. Postern’s legs sink a little. Heels pummel more slowly. Even black stitches’ll show. Customers pull ’n pry. (She goes to the rags. Puts the trousers in the bad pile. Hesitates.) The cotton’s good. I’ll tell them it’s best cotton. Stronger ’n black. Yer stay with the good. (She puts back the trousers on the good pile. Goes back to Postern.) Tighter. The knots slip. (Tightens the sleeves. Postern’s legs rise. Heels pummel more quickly. Pulling.) Soon finish now. All over. Promise. Poor boy. Yer do it for mother. We pull it tighter t’gether. She stands. Clasps her hands. Postern’s legs sink. Heels pummel more slowly. He turns on his side. Legs drawn up. They find the stitches they say I’m cheatin. Market regulations. Supervisors in uniforms. What shall I do for the best? They confiscate all my wares if I’m caught. (She goes to the rags. Picks up the trousers.) Some a’ yer stitches ’re tore. I sell yer dear t’ someone with money – when yer fall t’

pieces they’ll use yer t’ stuff rat ’oles. Yer go in the bad ’eap. When the poor buy yer they take more care. (She goes back to Postern. Unties the jumper.) Yer stretch out a’ shape. I’ll pull yer back later. (She looks at Postern.) Army gangs train ’im not t’ die. Dont cry – wont stretch yer again. (She turns Postern on to his back. She spreads the jersey over his face.) ’Is breath’ll draw yer in on ’is face. ’E’ll choke ’isself on yer. (Postern’s legs are on the ground. Feet quiver. She goes back to the rags. Picks up the trousers.) The stitches are neat. Done by a good ’and. Yer could a bin stitch for a ’usband or son. That give ’em some sort a’ value. Yer stay in the good pile. I’ll try t’ sell yer as good. (She puts the trousers in the good pile. She goes back to Postern. Looks down at jumper.) Yer cant do it. Yer so thin. ’E suck the air through yer side like a sieve. (She stands on the jumper. Straight upright and still. Postern lies lifeless.) I’ll find yer good ’omes. Wont go t’ the first ’oo ask. Go on clean ’ealthy bodies. Neednt be where there’s money. ’Ow they ’andle yer when they buy ’ll show me what sort they are. (She steps off the jumper. Lifts it from Postern’s face. Glances at him. Goes back to the rags. Starts to collect them together.) But they must pay the askin price. Margerson hurries over the rim and down the slope. He speaks in rapid panic. Lambeth does not notice he is there. Margerson It was cold. ’E was still a boy but ’e shiver in ’is thin clothes. ’E bin woke early. Not ’ad no breakfast. Not even a swig a’ tea. ’E cross the square. Tarmac glisten. Traffic bollards on the sides was white. (He sees Postern. Turns away from him, right. He does not stop talking.) Red rings paint on ’em. Bare trees on the edges. The men was stood there waitin for ’im on the far side. (He shifts and scurries uncertainly. Stares at the rim. Talks without stopping.) Some stamp or thrash their arms cross their chest count a’ the cold. Even from there ’e knew which one was chose. ’E never look direct. Body twist a bit t’ the side. Neck twist. This mornin it’d be routine. Nothin fancy that early in the day. When it was over ’e be serve ’is breakfast. The young ’re always ’ungry. ’E couldnt say ’ow many ’e bin called upon t’ do. Never concern ’im. Bin lay down in the trainin. ’E never look in the faces or see if it were man or woman. After the first ’e knew it never was a dog. Dog whimper. Claws scrape the tarmac as it shy away. People never did. ’E never shot bare flesh. Shot the clothes. ’E reach the waitin men. Man give ’im a rifle. ’E lift the rifle. ’Is finger feel the trigger.

’E look at the face. It was ’is own age. ’E couldnt kill ’im. Never kill ’im. Not ’is own age. Never should a look at ’is face. Y’ad a killer’s face. Eyes was ’oles – Lambeth notices Margerson. Sees his panic. Packs the rags back into her sack. Margerson’s panic increases. Margerson – punch in the ’ead. Knew straight off. ’E’d met ’is killer. The one ’e bin call t’ kill ’d kill ’im one day. The rifle drop. Men watch. ’Is breakfast ’d be cold. They never kep it on a ’ot plate. If ’e was a novice never kill before the system was still in place. The men ’d train ’im ’ow t’ kill. ’E was train. Killin was routine. Like breakfast. Now ’e refuse. The system fall t’ pieces. No one trust no one. Tarmac glisten. They lock ’im in a cell. Said yer got till mornin. Yer kill ’im or – Lambeth finishes stuffing her sack. Takes it to Postern. Tugs at the overcoat. She can’t free it. Margerson – ’e kill you. Think. ’E knew already. ’E couldnt kill ’is killer. Never. If ’e bin a kid or old. Not ’is own age. ’E knew everythin. In the night ’e went mad. In the mornin the men led ’im out. ’Is killer waitin on the square. Men put a rifle on the ground. One-weapon duel. They mark out twenty paces each side the rifle. ’Im there – ’is killer there. First t’ get the rifle kill the – Lambeth (tugging overcoat. To Margerson) ’Elp me! I give yer a shirt out me sack! Margerson – one ’oo aint. Man say fifty paces. ’Undred. Must ’ave their joke. Stood ’em either side the square. ’E cant move. ’S killer’s runnin. Jumpin. Do a cartwheel. Pick up the rifle. ’E ’eard the grit crunch under ’is killer’s boots ’n the racket a ’is own ’eart. ’E cant run away t’ live a second longer. ’E pass out. ’E cant be kill. ’As t’ know ’e’s bein kill else it – Someone walks on to the rim. Glances at Lambeth and Postern. Stares at Margerson. Silence except for Lambeth’s tugging. She sees Someone. Stops. Lambeth ’Oo are yer? Someone Dont know. Lambeth Dont know?

Someone I found meself. Lambeth (slight pause) Take me coat back. Lent ’im. Someone Got any grub? Lambeth ’E’s dead. Someone Ain eat three days. Lambeth Nothin ’ere. (Overcoat.) ’Elp me lift ’im. Someone Ain touch the dead. Margerson (low) – dont count. Ain a proper killin. Someone What? Lambeth ’E’s mad. Margerson (low) ’Is killer ate ’is breakfast. Someone (Postern) What ’e die of? Lambeth Everythin. Someone (points to sack) Yourn? Lambeth Nothin in that. Rags. Someone comes a few paces down the slope. Lambeth Ain yer place. Ain belong ’ere. Yer go. Someone (to Margerson) Why yer run when yer see me? Lambeth Tol’ yer – ’e’s mad. Someone Run for somethin even if yer are mad. Lambeth Upset ’im. Better go. Someone ’Oo’s Len? Keep shoutin Len. Lambeth Waste yer time with ’im. – Where yer found yerself? Someone By a river. Found meself on the bank. Walkin. Dont know where from or where I was ’eadin. Came to on the bank. Walk on a bit. Then I stop. Werent mad. Knew what sky ’n grass was. Knew which way I come – bent the grass. No one with me. Only my footmarks. Went back. Come t’ a

fork. Didnt know which way was mine. Walkin lost ever since. When I come t’ ruins ask if they can tell me ’oo I am. Scare ’em. Think I’m a troublemaker. Chuck stones. Let their dogs out. Keep out a’ sight now. Thought I’d come t’ somewhere what remind me. Or ’ave a dream ’n recognise meself in it. Postern is slowly sitting up. Head bowed – he might still be asleep. Margerson sees him. Margerson It’s put off t’ t’morra. That night the camp’s raided. Someone and Lambeth turn to watch Postern. The overcoat drops from his shoulders. He gets to his feet – half falls – pushes himself up on one hand. Stands bent. The overcoat slips from him. He catches it in one hand – holds it. Turns to Someone. Walks. Halfway there he falters. Steadies himself. Creeps towards Someone. The overcoat weighs his hand down. Tries to lift it. Stooped. Offers it to Someone. Falls back. The overcoat drags on the ground. The others watch in silence. Someone ’E knows me. Knows ’oo I am! (Goes to Postern.) ’Oo am I? (To Lambeth.) ’Elp ’im. Give ’im water. O God ’e’s ill … ! Lambeth turns to go back to her sack. Lambeth No water ’ere. Someone ’Elp ’im. ’E’ll die. – ’Oo am I? Tell me! Lambeth ’E was already dead once. Pretendin ’e can tell yer ’oo yer are. ’E wants yer t’ take ’im somewhere safe from ’is mates. Postern tries to stand. Twists round towards the patch of blood. Someone stops him. Someone Tell me! Keep still – if yer move yer make yerself worse. Tell me ’oo I am. Postern pulls away from Someone. Forces himself to the patch of blood. Gasps for breath. Falls. Lambeth picks up the coat. Stuffs it into her sack. Starts to leave right. Someone Tell me my name! (Lifts Postern’s head. Stares into it.) Yer know me. Yer must know me proper. Not just seen me on the street. Or yer ain give me the coat. I walked so far. ’As ’e forgot already? Yer cant! ’S my

face change? Was it like this – I smile? (Grimaces.) I scare ’im. Look – I stop now. Keep quiet so yer remember. Just me name. Give me that! I’ll find out the rest. (Looks round.) Where’s ’is – ? Someone sees Lambeth leaving. Goes to her. Snatches her sack. Lambeth Thief! Mine! Someone empties the sack on the floor. Takes the overcoat to Postern. Margerson goes up to the rim. Stops. Margerson (calls off) Len! Someone The coat. Yer gave me – remember yer gave me – yer do! Just now. O god if ’e’s dyin ‘just now’ could be a ’undred years ago for ’im. (Looks inside the overcoat collar.) No name in the collar. Dont know if ’e can ’ear me! I was by water. Thass all I can tell yer. It dont ’elp ’im! If yer can speak make a sign – scratch a sign in the dirt – I’ll remember. Lambeth Ain ’is coat t’ give. Loan ’im when ’e was sick. ’As t’ give it back so I can go. No right t’ give me property t’ strangers. Someone (looks in the coat collar) They stitches? Was a name bin there once? (He searches the pockets. Rips the lining.) Lambeth Savages ’ere! Savages! Someone (drapes the overcoat on Postern) Yer kep warm yer ain die. I take care a’ yer – manage to some’ow. Yer need me even more’n I need yer. (Tries to hear Postern’s heart.) Lambeth ’E’ll lie t’ yer. All he say ’s lies. Thass why ’e’s shot. Tried it on ’is army mates! Dont listen t’ ’is ’eart – that tick backwards! Someone (tries to nurse Postern) Nod if yer ’ear. If I say names – nod one’s mine! No it could be the last jerk ’is body give before ’e die! I go round with someone else’s name lyin t’ meself t’ make it mine! O god o chriss o jesus! I could a drown meself in the river. I find ’im ’n ’e’s dead. Yer die with two names. Mine ’n yourn. I ain got one! (Holds Postern’s head.) It’s in ’is ’ead ’n I cant get it out. I didnt know I could be so sad. Margerson comes down the slope to Someone. He takes a handgun from his pocket. Aims at Someone. Someone turns to see him halfway down.

Someone Ken. Ken. (Stands.) Me name’s Ken. I’m Ken! (He staggers as if hit.) I’m Ken! I’m Ken! (Points at gun.) Aaahhh – ! Dont. Dont. Dont. Y’ cant! I got a name! What’s ’e goin t’ – ! (To Postern.) Tell ’im! I’m Ken! Margerson Cell burnt. ’E run away. The killer follow after. ’Eard ’is footsteps muffle in the shadow. Now ’e runs. The killer follow. Someone Ken. Ken. (To Postern.) Thass ’oo yer meant! Lambeth Kill ’em both! Rid a’ the filth! Give yer a dip out me sack! Worth it t’ be rid a’ ’em. That one bring ’is mates ’ere we’re all dead! That one bring somethin worse! Someone What I done t’ be shot for? Yer cant! I got a name – I dont know what I done! Tell me why yer – ! (To Postern.) I’m Ken – ain ’oo ’e thinks I am! I cant find me name ’n then be shot as someone else! Tell me that before yer shoot me! – what I done! I follow yer when yer ran! – be shot for that? O chriss I dont want t’ be shot now – not now I got a name –. If I done somethin – let me put it right – tell me – I’ll do it! (To Postern.) Tell ’im I’m Ken. (To Margerson.) ’E knows me! (To Postern.) Tell ’im! – If I knew what I should do – Ken would do – ’ow ’e be’ave – Margerson It was early one mornin. It was cold. ’E was still a boy but ’e shiver in ’is thin clothes. ’E bin woke early. Not ’ad no breakfast. Not even a swig a’ tea. Lambeth takes the coat from Postern. Someone No – it’s all I got definite – Lambeth (openly in front of Margerson) ’E’s mad. I tell ’im t’ shoot yer ’cause I want it – ’e will. That’s ’ow things ’appen now. I seen worse ’n yer death. Yer shouldnt be ’ere. Postern tries to stand. He gestures to Someone. Someone helps him to his feet – then he pushes Someone away. He goes slowly to Margerson. Holds his hands shoulder high, palms flat, as a sign of appeasement. Margerson still aims at Someone. Postern leans forward and looks at the gun. Turns away. Postern (to Lambeth) Give ’im ’is coat. Lambeth No! Ain yern t’ give! Yer rob it off the dead!

Postern Do yer button up. Do yer button up. Lambeth hesitates. Gives Someone the overcoat. Goes back to her sack. Postern is shaken by a quick spasm of fever – then is still. Postern (quietly explains to Someone) ’E’s only got one round. Cant waste it. ’As t’ be sure. (To Margerson.) Y’ain sure ’e’s the one yer after. Shoot ’im – then the one yer really want – ’ooever that is – ’ll come over the top ’n drop yer. Yer mad ol’ git. Ain ’im. I’ll show yer. Put yer gun on the ground. Margerson (fear) ’E cross the square. Tarmac glisten. Traffic bollards on the side … Postern Dont yer want t’ know? (Margerson offers him the gun.) Said on the ground. I want it I’d ’ave it by now. Git. Margerson puts the gun on the ground. Postern gestures to him to back away. He hesitates. Backs a few paces. Turns a complete circle on the spot. Goes back to the gun. Half lowers both hands to it. Postern Git. Margerson doesn’t move. Someone (shouts) Do it! Do what ’e says! Margerson snatches up the gun. Runs to the rim. Margerson (calls off) Len! Len! Postern stoops with empty laughter. Pause. Margerson comes down the slope. Puts the gun on the ground where it was before. Backs. Postern gestures Someone nearer the gun. Margerson – was white. Red rings paint – Someone moves slightly towards the gun – he is closer than Margerson. Postern Three. (Coughing fit.) Two. (Touches forehead.) Fever come ’n go. Ice. Trickle down me neck. Bin lay there too long. ’S one now. Margerson loops to the gun. Snatches it. Darts back. Aims at Someone. Backs. Still aims.

Postern (mutters to himself) One. One. One. (Half collapsed. Turns to the patch of blood. Someone helps him. He sits. To Someone.) Mad bastard a’ shot yer if ’e ’ad the bullets. (Calls to Margerson.) Git! (To Someone.) Get me out a’ ’ere. Take me somewhere. Anywhere. ’Ave a chance ’way from ’ere. (To Margerson.) ’E ain yer killer. Yer seen it. Ain kill no one. Someone ’Ow long yer know me? Postern Must rest. Shouldnt a done that. Someone ’Ow long was we t’gether when before I – Postern Yer want t’ kill me! Tol’ yer! – let me rest. Someone stands. Goes up the slope. Margerson watches him. Lambeth turns away. Takes rags from her sack. Sorts and mends. Someone turns back to Postern. Someone When did we meet? Tell me – Postern No! Go! Let me in peace! Dont want yer ’elp! Look after meself! Just go! Someone Just tell me that – when we last met – Postern (groans) Go – go. Someone Was we friends or enemies? Postern I never met yer. Someone ‘I never met yer’? ’E said ‘I never met yer’! Postern Let me be quiet. When I’m t’gether yer can ’elp me get – Someone Yer never met me? Postern No. Someone Yer must! Yer told ’im yer – Postern Never. Yer ask. Yer dont believe me when I say. Someone Yer fever – mixes up what yer know with what yer – Postern I save yer life! Now I got t’ tell yer ’oo yer are!

Someone ’Elp me. I was so long by the river. The river ’aunts me when I sleep. Now I got a name. I’m ’auntin meself. Postern Ain responsible for what yer dream. Someone Responsible for the coat. Yer give me the coat! Why? If yer ain know ’oo I – Postern Look! (Seizes Someone’s hand. Puts it to his chest.) A wound! ’Ere! Feel it! What more yer want from me? Someone Yer knew me when yer give me the coat – ! Postern No! Someone Yer must ’ave! Postern No! Someone Then why yer give me the – ? Postern I dont know! Someone Yer dont know? Postern I was sick. It come out a’ the fever. Dont know ’oo yer are. Know all the rest. Know too much. Someone (pauses) Then I’ll give it t’ ’er! She ’as it! (Takes coat to Lambeth.) Yourn! Postern No no! – yer cant – ! (Drags himself to his feet. Crashes towards Lambeth. Snatches the overcoat. Throws it at Someone.) Yours! Yours! I give it! Keep it! (Falls over.) ’E’s killin me! Someone What do I do? ’E’s mad! I try t’ make ’im tell me – I make it worse! Do I ’ave t’ kill ’im t’ find out! (He runs up to the rim. Shouts off.) Len! Len! ’Elp me! Len! Margerson – on ’em. Bare trees on the edges. The men was – Margerson goes towards the slope. Stops. Aims the gun at the rim. It shakes violently. Someone (turns to look down at Margerson) Yer know somethin about me!

Margerson – stood there waitin for ’im on the far side. Some stamp or thrash their arms cross their chests count a’ the cold. Even from there ’e knew which one was chose. ’E never look direct. Body twist – Someone ’Oo did yer think I was! Why cant yer speak? Why d’yer tell me that instead? Margerson – a bit t’ the side. Neck twist. This mornin it’d be routine. Nothin fancy that early in the day. When it was over ’e be served ’is breakfast. The young ’re always ’ungry. ’E couldnt say ’ow many ’e bin called upon t’ do. Never concern ’im. Bin laid down in – Someone Why did yer run away from me! Someone comes down the slope. The gun waves violently. Margerson – the trainin. ’E never look in the faces or see if it were man or woman. After the first ’e knew it never was a dog. Dog whimper. Claws scrape the tarmac as it shy away. People never did. ’E never shot bare flesh. Shot the clothes. ’E reach the – Someone Shoot me! Least I’ll know that’s ’appen t’ me! The flash a’ the pistol ’ll show me ’oo I am before I’m dead! The flash of a pistol! (Angry disgust.) I ’ave t’ ask for the light a’ that t’ show me ’oo I am! Postern (mutters) Do ’e know ’oo ’e is? Do she? Do I know if I’ll be dead by t’night? I dont even know why I got a ’ole in me chest. If anyone knew ’oo they was they wouldnt believe it. ’E thinks yer out a’ ’is story. Someone ’e met when ’e was a kid. Someone ’is own age then. Look at ’im now? Look at yerself? ’Ow could yer be the kid out ’is story? (Empty laugh.) Be grateful for the lot yer dont know. Yer shouldnt be ’ere. ’Ere ain good for yer. Go away somewhere proper ’n live while yer can. I dont know ’oo yer are. I know much more ’n that. Know what yer are. Now go. Someone Dont understand. Tell me that. Postern Dont know ’ow. (Wince. Hand goes to his wound. He doesn’t touch it.) Dont know them kind a’ words. Ain used in my sort ’a life. Too late t’ learn. Someone But yer give me the coat.

Postern Yeh. I did. (Flat.) Now it cant be left as it is. (To Margerson.) Give me yer gun. Margerson (still aiming at Someone) – waitin men. Man give ’im a rifle. ’E lift the – Postern No! – Margerson – rifle. ’Is finger feel the trigger. ’E look at – Postern – ain time for that. Gimme. Quick. Margerson – the face. It was ’is own age. ’E couldnt kill ’im. Never kill ’im. Not ’is own age. Postern (to Someone) Stand. ’Elp me. Someone No – yer bleed – Postern ’Elp me. Soon’s it’s done I rest. Someone helps Postern to stand. Postern (to Margerson) Give it. ’S all right. Be like last time. Lambeth goes to Margerson. Takes the gun. Goes with it to Postern. Lambeth ’E’s bin livin with the dead. ’Is sweat stinks a what they died of. Glad yer past ain mine. (To Someone.) Give me the coat when ’e’s dead. Thass got a past too. Dont carry it on yer back. I can live with it. Yer cant. Take nothin from ’im. Lambeth goes back to her sack. Postern Yer wont give it t’ ’er. Someone ’Ow’d I know what I’ll do? Postern Listen. Do what I say now. Dont waste words like ’im. Take the gun. Margerson goes up the slope. Postern Stop! Stop there! Watch ’n see! I’ll show yer all yer need t’ know. Get this sorted! (To Someone – the gun.) Take it. (Someone doesn’t move.) Cant stand ’ere long. (Coughs.) Fever come back. ’Elp me if yer want t’ know.

Someone goes to the slope. Sits away from Margerson. Postern (to Lambeth) Give it t’ im. Lambeth goes up the slope. She carries the sock. She looks out from the rim. She comes back. Throws the sock to the rags. Postern half slumps to the ground. The pistol hangs from his hand. Lambeth takes the pistol from his hand. He doesn’t look up. She goes to Someone. Stands by him. He looks at the ground. Postern Take it. Then there’s still time – I can get away. Yer can ’elp me. I’ll show me gratitude. (Someone doesn’t move.) Yer got it? Lambeth (holding the gun) ’E ’as. Postern Point it at the old git. (Someone looks away from Margerson.) Pointin? Lambeth (holding the gun) Yeh. Postern (bowed looking at the ground) ’E still kill yer if yer give ’im ’arf ’a chance? Shoot ’im. Save yerself. (Silence. Quiet.) See. ’E thinks yer a killer. Yer ain. Cant. Cant even kill a mad ol’ male-tart like that. Anyway – the bullet ’d turn back when it see where it’s goin. (Empty laugh. Tries to straighten.) ’Elp me – Lambeth walks back to her sack. She has the gun. Postern turns his head. He sees Someone stock-still looking away from Margerson. Postern Liar! Liar! Liar! I got t’ end dead in a pit a’ liars! He lurches to his feet. Stumbles towards Lambeth. In panic she reaches the gun to him. He takes it. Sways. Turns to Someone. He hasn’t moved. … Yeh. Sit. ’S all the same thing. No more effin ’n blindin (To Margerson.) Tell ’im yer bedtime story. (To Someone.) Yer ain ’is killer. (To Margerson.) Tell ’im. ’E can see the joke now. Stay close by ’im. It’s the safest place in the world. No ’arm will befall. I could die next t’ ’im ’n it wouldnt show. (Shambles a few dance steps.) Dance. (Coughing fit.) There was dancin ’ere once. All this floor was for dancin. If I ’ave t’ die ’ere – I could sit ’ere in peace ’n put this place in me ’ead – bury it inside me – ’n rest – Someone ’E knows ’oo I am –

Postern ’E dont! Someone Knows somethin this Ken done! – ’Ow ’e know that – ? Postern (to Margerson. Through clenched teeth) Yer mad buggerin stupid bastard git! Yer fill ’im with yer poison! Yer sort ruin the world! I’d wipe yer off the earth! Kill yer – but I cant! Cant … (Mutters.) Cant … cant … cant kill t’day – I could die t’day – ain let yer drag me down t’ that – (Shudders.) ain kill on me last day on – Someone Yer give me the coat. Postern Dont torment me no more! … I stood by open pits. The gas – the waste gas in the pits – shove the dead so they fidget – try t’ get settle. ’Eads follow ’n drag their eyes with ’em. One stood up – in a cloud a’ methane. Feet wedge under the bodies. Movement a’ standin empty the blood out ’is skull. Trickle down ’is face in ’is mouth. I saw ’is throat swallow. The gas worked ’is muscles. Saw it clear under the sky – before they was cover in earth. Me mates call the dead cannibals. Let me rest for the last time. If I die again I wont come back. The dead are worse when they’re still. Someone Why yer give me the coat? If I know that at least! Postern I dont know. I forget. Coat? Coat? I want t’ know ’oo yer are more ’n yer do yerself! Thass why I showed yer everythin. T’ see it too. Yer saw it. The rest’s nothin. Someone (quiet) Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. ’Oo was ’e? Nobody know ’im! Postern ’E cant ’elp yer. Forget ’im. Someone I should a throw meself in the river. Postern None a’ that talk in front of a dyin man. Dont work. Go away while yer can. (Fit of coughing.) I’d go if I could dig meself out a’ this grave! Margerson is creeping towards the rim. Postern Stop ’im! Stop ’im! He stands. Crashes up the slope. Grabs Margerson. Hurls him down the slope. Stay! Stay! I’ll get this sorted! Ain I said? Finish it!

A sudden stream of blood vomits from Postern’s mouth. Falls over his clothes. He steadies himself. Stands still. Margerson Never should a look at ’is face. Y’ad a killer’s face. Eyes was ’oles punch in the ’ead. Knew straight off. ’E’d met ’is killer. The one ’e bin call t’ kill ’d kill ’im one – Postern What more must I do? I’m dyin cause yer ask ask ask – ! If I lay quiet a bit – I could a’ live –. (Brushes his hand through the blood on his chest.) I died – as good as. Look. (Stares at his bloody hand.) – P’raps yer never know ’oo yer was. Never get it in yer ’ead. Dont matter. Yer ain bury in the past. Make yerself someone new. Ain that what they all want if they ’ad the chance? If yer cant do it I can – I will. Every time I shot someone it was you. Now I’ll give yer a new life. Give yer a life again. Take the gun. Someone (half somnambulistically) Why yer give me the coat? Postern (holding out the gun to Someone) Shoot me if I torment yer – but yer will take the gun. Someone (as before) Ken. Ken. Ken. Postern Point it at ’im. Thass all. Put yer ’and out. Out. Margerson (terror) – day. The rifle drop. Men watch. ’Is breakfast ’d be cold. They never kep it on a ’ot plate. If ’e was a novice never kill before the system was still in place. The men ’d train ’im ’ow t’ kill. ’E was train. Killin was routine. Like breakfast. Now ’e refuse. The system fall t’ pieces. Postern takes Someone’s arm. Points it at Margerson. Postern Out! – I do the rest. Postern puts the gun in Someone’s hand. Someone (to himself) Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. ’S all I got – a name. Margerson (terror) No one trust no one. Tarmac glisten. They lock ’im in a cell. Said yer got till mornin. Yer kill ’im or ’e kill you. Think. ’E knew already. ’E couldnt kill ’is killer. Never. If ’e bin a kid or old. Not ’is own age. ’E knew everythin. In the night ’e went mad. In the mornin the men led ’im out. ’Is killer’s – Someone pulls away from Postern.

Postern ’Ow can I show ’im? ’E wont let me! Someone (to himself) Ken. Ken. Ken. ’Oo is ’e? Call ’im. Call ’im t’ ’elp yer. Postern (jeering. Violent) Then kill ’im! Yer kill once – always kill! Shoot ’im in the back. That ’ow yer do it? Choose ’ow yer want! Someone (to himself) Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. ’Oo is ’e? ’Oo is ’e? Why dont it tell me more – Postern lurches at Margerson. Knocks him down. He squirms on the slope away from Postern. Margerson (terror) – waitin on the square. Men put a rifle on the ground. One-weapon duel. They mark out twenty paces each side the rifle. ’Im there – ’is killer there. First t’ get the rifle kill the one ’oo aint. Man say fifty paces. ’Undred. Must ’ave their joke. Someone wanders lost to the rim. Comes back. Someone (to himself) Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. If I ’eard meself. If I come ’ere – Postern grabs Margerson’s squirming legs. Pulls him back. Jerks him upright. Stands holding him facing Someone. Postern Kill ’im! Do it! ’E cant ’urt yer! – ’E try I break ’is back! If yer was a killer yer’d kill me for sayin that! Yer ain kill! Listen t’ what yer know! I made yer see it! Ken! Ken! Ken! – yer cant kill! (Pushes Margerson face down to the ground.) Try it! Do it professional! Back a’ the neck! Someone finds the gun in his hand. He takes it to Postern. Margerson (terror) Stood ’em either side the square. ’E cant move – Postern Yer do it the mad nutter’s way? (Twists Margerson round face up.) Margerson (terror) ’S killer ’s runnin. Jumpin. Do a cartwheel – Someone stares down at Margerson’s face. Postern Piss bullets in ’is eyes! Someone I killed! I killed!

Postern falls unconscious. Margerson twists and drags away. Someone Grub. Lambeth None ’ere. Got none. Someone Crumbs on yer mouth when I come. (Points pistol at sack.) Lambeth takes out the bread wrapped in a cloth. Gives it to Someone. He takes the bread. Throws the cloth away. Eats ravenously. Margerson creeps away. Someone (points gun at Margerson) Oi! Margerson stops. Someone (chewing) Breakfast. (To Lambeth.) Yer got bread – yer got water. (Lambeth takes water bottle from sack. Gives it to Someone. He unstoppers it and drinks. Grimaces but doesn’t spit.) Piss. – (To Margerson.) Drag that offal back there. Where it belong. He eats and watches. Margerson drags Postern back to the patch of blood. Someone ’Ow many yer kill? (Silence.) ’Ow many? Dont mean since yer run. ’Ow many before when yer was ’n army kid? Margerson Pick up the rifle. ’E ’eard the grit – Someone No no not that! None a that! I’ll enjoy blowin yer story out yer brains! ’Ow many! (Silence.) ’Ow many yer kill? In proper words! Yer dont know? Yer forgot? He goes to Lambeth. Takes her sack. Empties it. Throws it to Margerson. Seen that? She stole it! What is it? Body bag. She empty it before she took it. Get in it! Dont worry! – soon they’ll be normal daily wear. Move! Save me the bother a’ cleanin the mess up when I shoot! Margerson gets into the body bag. Someone Up! Up! Round yer neck! Up! (Margerson pulls the body bag higher.) Now – ’ow many yer kill? Tell me. In proper figures. Silence. Margerson – crunch under ’is killer’s boot –

Someone sits on the slope. Silence. Someone ’Ow many? Margerson (pauses) – ’n the racket a’ ’is own … (Pauses.) ’eart. ’E cant run away … Someone (pauses) Ain yer know? Margerson (pauses) … t’ live a moment longer … (Pauses.) ’E pass out. Someone (pauses) Use proper words. – Y’ ain got none – the dead stole ’em when yer shot ’em. Silence. Margerson dances a few steps in the body bag. Slow. Awkward. Bent. Kangeroo. Pause. Dances a few more steps. Stops. Someone and Margerson stare at each other. Lambeth sorts and mends rags. Someone Anyone can dance in a body bag. Yer cant tell ’ow many yer kill. Yer lock in yer story. Never get out. ’S all yer ever know. Never learn any different. ‘Cant kill. Cant kill.’ Yer go round killin. Callin people t’ the slaughter’ouse. Yer the bait death drops be’ind it in the street. ’Ow many Lens yer kill? Leave ’em pile up in the doorways. I’d rather watch the dead rot ’n watch yer dance. Yer didnt even cover yer ’ead. Yer what’s wrong with us. (Gesture to Postern.) Yer more dangerous than ’im. I think yer the most dangerous man in the world. Yer story’s always ’ungry. Yer can go. Yer cant be kill. Yer cant be kill like ’im or me. It wouldnt be a proper killin. Wouldnt count. I dont know why. If I did things ’d be different. P’raps it’s ’cause yer suffer more when yer alive. But yer dont know yer suffer. Thass worse’n not knowin ’oo yer are. Yer more lost ’n I could ever bin. (Points gun at Postern.) I kill ’im. (Margerson turns to stare at Postern.) Kill ’im instead a yer. (Face sets.) ’Ave t’ do some bastard in now I got meself back. ’S my right. It’s ’oo I am. Cant find meself then refuse t’ be what I am. Ain be lost again. Ain survive that a second time. Kill ’im ’n remember the satisfaction it give. Find a purpose t’ live. Suddenly Margerson struggles out of the body bag. Clutches it to him for protection. Takes a few steps. Stops in uncertainty. Throws the body bag back to Lambeth. Goes out over the rim. Someone goes to Postern. Crouches. Listens for his breathing. Puts the pistol to Postern’s temples. Thoughtfully whistles a few notes. Stands. Kicks Postern once. Takes a swig of water. Lambeth sorts and mends.

Someone Yer wake? I’m meditatin on yer death. ’Ave a good sleep soon. (Kicks Postern once.) ’Ear me? Do what I’m ’ere for. (Kicks Postern twice. Postern draws back.) D’yer ’ear? Postern Yer come with me mates? Someone Remember me? Postern Get back t’ me mates – trouble out ’ere – must find me mates –. (Sees the water bottle.) Water. Someone Ain waste water on you. Piss anyway. Postern (tries to move) Me mates – Postern passes out. Someone pushes the bottle between his lips. Someone Glug! Glug that down yer! ’Ave yer awake. Ain slip off till I say! Postern Uh. Uh. Someone Drink it! Dont waste! Postern The mornin was wrong. That started it. The lorries come t’ the gate. (Tries to get up.) Must go – me mates ’re lookin for me – … Listen. Listen. Drop the prisoners at the gate. Camp full. Need the lorries. Lorries. See? Lorries needed. Chief said shoot ’em in the gateway. Forty. More. ’Ostages. I give the order – told ’em stand. (He takes the bottle. Drinks.) Stood up. They thought they was goin t’ move. Go in the camp. No – easier t’ shoot ’em standin. Cost less ammunition. Man stood up. Dress in a coat. ’E did ’is buttons. Got t’ the collar –. (Realises.) I give yer the coat. Yer coat now. Must wear it. (Tries to stand.) Must get t’ me mates. Bigger target. Save ammunition. Fire at the chest – Someone (pulls the water bottle from Postern’s hand. Water slops) Another story – ! Postern (remembers) Yer – the one ’oo came. Y’ain know. Ain kill. Ain never there. Ain never seen the dead lie at yer feet like yer shadow turn t’ stone. The lorries was needed. Man in the coat – did ’is buttons. The lorries revvin. I lift the rifle. The man knew. Saw in ’is eyes – the shock a death. Our eyes met. I wink. I wink. I wink. I wink. I wink. Terrible thins ’appen in war. But let that pass. (In silence examines his wound.) Still bleeds. Where’s all the blood come from? Wish I could wear the ’ole earth as a

mask. – I pull the trigger. ’Is fingers fly about. Scatter in the air like shrapnel or moths. ’Is button left undone. We was off routine. Dead lie there all day. Posted me as sentry. No relief. No grub. No drink. Afternoon was longer ’n the day. Kep countin the dead t’ keep me mind in sanity. Then I start t’ say it in me ’ead. Do yer button up. Dark come. Skive off t’ the canteen. A pint. Got drunk. Came back t’ me post. Dead still there. Do yer button up. Shouted. Rampage up ’n down. Do yer button up. Drunk – but I said it first when I was sober. Shouted at the ’eap. All a’ ’em. Make ’em do it for ’im. They dont. Then I crep in among ’em. Dont like the dead. Crep in on top. Do it meself. Get the button done. Then rest. But they was cold. Not the cold yer know. A different sort a’ climate. I stole ’is coat. Slep in it. Woke in the dark. Still drunk. Drunk on duty. I ran away. Next day me mates come after. They said I stole the rifle. Bandit. Someone The ol’ git’s dead. I shot ’im. Postern (empty laugh) Said the coat was a disguise. Someone Not ’ere. Did it outside. Ain ’ave ’is stink ’ere. Postern Clear night. Saw bodies in the frost. Light from the stars. Blood black – red rims. Drunk. Told ’em do yer buttons up. Someone Finish ’im an’ ’is story. Wont ’ear that no more! Postern Yer never kill. Someone If yer could move I take yer out ’n show ’im t’ yer! Postern Yer never kill. I saw yer with the gun. I kill. Aint ’ave yer shit on what I did! It werent playin games. Someone Surprise the shot ain wake yer. Margerson (off, calls) Len. Postern (takes water bottle. Drinks) Yer do yerself no favours. Yer take what’s serious ’n make yer lies out a that! The dead ’ave a right t’ their selfrespect – be told the truth ’oo shot ’em! Werent no lyin brats ’oo done it! That you before yer lost yerself? Be glad yer did! Mix lies with the solemn truth! Ain nothin serious ’n sacred t’ yer? Someone What yer mean – ? Yer think I ain – ? (Goes towards the rim.) I’d show yer ’is body if yer could move. ’E’s out there where I shot ’im!

Postern I ’eard ’im call! Someone ’Eard ’oo call? ’Oo? O! – yer mean yer think – ? ’Allucination! Yer ’eard yer fever – Postern Lyin little fool. Yer think I’m took in so easy – think I fall for – ? Someone Do yer button up! Do yer button up! O yeh? Yer tell the dead t’ get dress proper but yer ain ’ear voices! Postern tries to rise. Someone Yer wont see ’im from ’ere. ’E’s right out. Yer’d never make the – Postern Ain there. Ain waste me time lookin. Short on that. Ain stay ’n listen t’ yer degrade yerself. It’s petty petty petty! Yer bring yerself down! Ain right t’ do it! Yer mocked by what’s out there! (He starts to go left.) Chriss yer open me wound! I bled listenin t’ yer … ! – Yer never kill! Someone I did, I did. Before. What can I do about it? – it’s ’oo I am. Lie? Thass the lie! Kill meself because I begun t’ live! Postern Yer never kill! I swear it on this earth! (Clutches up earth. Shows it to Someone.) Wont have my last days – all my life – shit on by a fake! Look – I’ll be buried in it. I swear! I swear! Margerson (off. Calls) Len. Postern stares a moment at Someone. Turns and goes left. Someone Fever! ’S yer fever! (Points the gun at Postern.) Shame! Shame yer wont see when I kill yer! Shame yer wont never know me! Postern (slows. Looks over his shoulder.) If yer did – it wouldnt be you. I goad yer. Anyone can be goaded. Yer shoot me – it’s me ’oo kills not you. (Turns. Stands as if presenting a target. Empty laugh.) Kill? I’m ’arf dead now – yer call that a killin? Yer fall downstairs yer call yerself ’n athlete. (Points.) The sky’s up there, the earth’s down there. We’re the fillin in between. Yer never kill. (Turns to go.) Someone Yeh. So. That’s what it is in the end. It always is. The weakest ’n the smallest. It’s ’er.

Postern stops. Someone goes to Lambeth. Puts the pistol to the nape of her neck. She hardly reacts. Margerson comes over the rim. Clasps his hands. Edges closer. Cranes forward to watch. Lambeth sorts and mends rags. Then carefully refolds them and packs them into her sack. Lambeth I ’ad two sons. One was good ’n one was bad. The good one was always good. Fair ’air. Blue eyes. Never lie. Always smile. Never dirty in mind or body. Never broke things even in accident. Always kind. The bad one was very bad. Dark. Both eyes squint. Stole from me tin. Always angry or mockin. Never wash. Animals back away from ’im. Smelt theirselves on ’im. ’Umans shouldnt smell of animal. (She reaches to gather rags further away.) ’E torture ’em. Like t’ ’ear ’em whimper more ’n scream. (Raises her voice a little. Half looks round.) Gang came t’ our streets. Army gang. Burnt the ’ouses. Broke. Looted. Kill the men. Did violence on the women. Soldiers took me sons. Stood ’em in the doorway t’ the ’ouse. Saw the notches on the doorposts where I measure ’em when they grew as little uns. The soldiers point their guns. I did a bad thing. Since then I live as yer see now. Strip bodies after shootins. Make me livin off the remains. (She lifts her sack on to her back. Looks round to see that no rags are left on the ground.) I told the army gang give me one son. Kill the other. P’raps they liked the novelty or saw the joke. Killin must get monotonous. They said yeh – which one lives? Choose. I chose the bad one. Postern lies down to sleep. Lambeth pays no attention to him or the others. She puts her sack on her back. She goes out over the rim. Someone I shot ’im in the neck. ’E was my age. Tell from the back. Wore the gear my generation wore t’ school. Not on tarmac. Edge a’ pit. ’E was pissin. Like ’n old man. Silent. No ’iss. I wish things werent like that. Wish they just ’appen. I pay for me life with ’is life. Look round once when I made ’im wait. Side a’ ’is face. Eye. ’E was ordinary. I thought put ’im out ’is sufferin. Back a’ the neck ain big. Warmth come off ’is skin. I thought not in the bare skin – in ’is ’air. I wouldnt see the ’ole. Then I saw what I was lookin for. ’Is ’air’s shave off. Prisoner. Not straight off the street. The ‘lefts’ of ’is ’air stood up in fright. Damp smell a’ torture on ’is clothes. Then the ’ole spat blood at me. I ’ad one leg straight down the pit. Men laugh – thought I slip on the piss. Slip ’cause I was tryin t’ catch ’im when ’e fell. Live my life like that – ’oldin ’im up between the edge an the bottom

a’ the pit. Thass why my mind was emptied. I was walkin along the river tryin t’ carry ’im cross the water. Lambeth comes back over the rim. She starts down the slope. Lambeth Too late. Go t’morrow. (She puts down her sack.) When I chose I shut me eyes. Not ’cause a’ the killin – the good son looked at me. I ’eard the shot. Smelt the smoke. ’Eard the body fall in the doorway. Look. They shot the bad son. The good son never forgive me for choosin ’is brother. Looked at me when ’e ate. Looked all the time. Look ’e ’ad when I chose ’is brother t’ live. It was branded on ’is face. ’E turned into the bad son. Worse ’n ’is brother. Everythin ’e did was bad. ’E could spill ’is drink on me skirt ’n put all the evil a’ the world in that. One day ’e’d kill me. One night I crep out the ’ouse. ’Eard the door be’ind me in the dark. ’E follow me. Thought yer was ’im when yer came ’ere. Could a’ bin. ’E changed once. Could change again. Nothin’s what it is now. P’raps ’e join ’n army gang. The one that shot ’is brother. Could be dead. Could a’ strip ’is body in the dark. Carry ’is stuff in ’ere. Me stitches on it. Wouldnt know. What world did I think I was in? Should a’ know they’d kill the one I never chose. (She arranges her sack for the night. Sits.) Yer ain carry the dead in yer arms over the river. ’E fell on to the bodies shot in the pit before ’im. Someone I remember me life now. All a’ it. Before. ’N when the gang took me in the army. Lambeth Take the coat. ’E give it yer. Someone ’Ow did ’e know I was in ’is story? Lambeth Everyone’s in it. The world’s gone small. Someone But ’e got what I did wrong. Lambeth The story’s still the same. Everyone’s in it one way ’n another. Someone When they said kill ’im I wanted t’ say no. I didnt. I was afraid. It was ’im or me. Ain even know ’is name. I paid for me life with ’is piss. Was I overcharge? Where d’yer find it in yer t’ say no? If yer dont nothin’s left in the world except piss. The army gangs do what they like – we live in ruins. Ain no reason t’ walk by the river any more. The bodies in the water go downstream faster. – Ain ask t’ be forgiven. Ain – (Stops.) There’s no

button. It’s missin off the collar. (Shows Lambeth.) The man tore it off as ’e was shot. ’And jerk – rip it. Lambeth Shall we tell ’im? Someone No. He puts on the overcoat. ’Is gang may come maraudin. We cant stay ’ere. Lambeth (to Margerson) I’ll take yer with me. Yer a danger t’ yerself out on yer own. Yer can take turns carryin the sack. Gets ’eavy on me back. Lambeth gives the sack to Margerson. He puts it on back to front. It hangs down his chest. Postern (stirs. Feverish) The dead send notes ’n wave. But they’re dead. There’s nothin. Ain afraid of it. But I dont want t’ lie in the grave a’ the dead – yer understand? – when the world’s a grave where everyone in it live like I ’ave. Afraid t’ lie in that for ever. Yer understand? I must ’ave ’ope when I’m dead. Werent none when I lived. I ain know then – dead cant. Must know now – or never know. When yer come I knew. Knew yer straight off. Yer was more ’n ’ope. The pits overflow – the bones buried under the tarmac ’owl – dirt dont touch yer. Yer never kill. So it’ll be. One day when I’m dead the world’ll be … like I was before I kill. Before I smelt the gun on me ’ands when I wash me face every mornin. When I was young like you. When I’m dead I’ll wait for that. I give yer the coat out a gratitude – it was rob off a dead man – it was all I ’ad – good quality stuff – it’ll last yer out – Someone I killed. Postern No no – Someone I killed when they tol’ me t’ kill – Postern No no no – Someone Ain lie t’ meself now I am meself! I killed ’im! Postern (terror. Stares emptily) If that’s true the whole world’s the bottom of a grave … everythin … Why d’yer torment me? (Violent.) Yer ain kill! Never! Never! Liar! (Stretches his arms. Draws his nails across the earth.)

If this was yer face I’d claw it off! (Collapses half conscious. Muttering, moaning.) Someone (to Lambeth) Yer right – gestures ain ’elp. Yer still got each day t’ live. We better go different ways. Safest. Lambeth puts the sack the right way round on Margerson. They go out over the rim. Someone goes out right. Postern (low) Do yer button up. (Stirs.) Do yer button up. (Half sits up. Head bowed.) Do yer button up. (Looks up.) Do yer button up. (Stumbles to his feet.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Wanders. Staggers. Points. Gestures.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Crashes. Rages on the floor.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Crawls.) Do yer button up! (Gets to his feet. Pleads in tears.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Sees the patch of blood. Spits on it twice.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Fist at the sky.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Staggers halfway up the slope. Screams.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Stamps and screams at the ground.) Do yer button up! Do yer button up! (Thrusts both arms out in front of him.) Drahhaahhhaaaa! (Dead.)

Chair

Chair was first broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on 7 April 2000. The cast was as follows: Alice

Maggie Steed

Billy

Chris Pavlo

Soldier

Andrew Wincott

Welfare Officer/Prisoner

Jean Heywood

Directed by Turan Ali Studio Manager Mark Smith The first stage production of Chair was at the Avignon Festival on 18 July 2006. The cast was as follows: Alice

Valérie Dréville

Billy

Pierre-Félix Gravière

Soldier

Abbès Zahmani

Welfare Officer/Prisoner

Stéphanie Béghain

Directed by Alain Françon Designed by Jacques Gabel Costumes by Patrice Cauchetier Lighting by Joël Hourbeigt Sound by Gabriel Scotti Setting City 2077.

First Picture A small living room on the second floor of a converted block of flats. Table and some chairs. The wall is largely covered in coloured crayon drawings. They suggest a child’s work. A door leads to a communal staircase. Another door leads to a bedroom. When the door is open part of a bed may be seen. The single window is covered in thick net and there are heavy curtains. The curtains are open and the net closed. Billy sits on a chair at the table. He draws. Beside him there are sheets of blank and filled paper. Boxes of crayons. Alice stands at the side of the window and looks out. From time to time she briefly edges the net aside to see more clearly. Billy (drawing) Why’re you at the window? (No answer.) What are you looking at? Alice Do your drawing. Billy (sing-song) Tell me – tell me – tell me. Alice Draw me the jungle with the wild animals. That’s a good drawing … (Her voice trails away.) Billy What’re you looking at? Alice Nothing. Billy Then why you looking? You’ve been looking ages. Tell me – tell me – Alice A soldier at the bus stop. Billy What’s he doing? Alice Waiting. Billy For a bus? Alice Draw the sea. You’re good at that. Billy You said draw the jungle. I shall put big trees in. The people are giants but the trees are bigger than them. Who’s with him? (No answer.) Who’s

with the soldier? Alice He’s escorting. Billy O. (Draws.) What’s escorting? Alice He has a prisoner. Billy starts to leave the table. Alice Stay there. Billy goes towards the window. Alice stops him. Billy Let me. I’ll be careful. I’ll look through the curtain. Alice Go back to your drawing. Billy Dont want to draw! Draw all morning! (Warning.) I’ll get in a state. I’ll get my hiccups. Dont want that! It’s nasty! Please! Alice Dont touch the curtains. Billy (looking down through the window) O yes. A soldier at the bus stop. He’s got a gun. Why’s she in uniform? She’s a prisoner not a soldier. Alice He’s got more buttons. Billy And she hasnt got a gun. Alice You’ve had a look. Sit down and finish your drawing. I’ll make some tea in a minute. Billy goes back to the table. Draws in silence. Billy I’m drawing the lion now. (Draws.) I’m getting on. (Draws.) Why’re you still watching now you’ve seen? You’ve been watching ever so long. (Draws.) It’s only people at a bus stop. Alice I thought I’d seen her somewhere. Billy The prisoner? (No answer.) Before today? Alice Yes. Billy Had you? (No answer.) Have I seen her? Alice No. Billy I could have seen her down in the street. (Draws.) Going somewhere.

Alice You’d remember. You’ve got good eyes. Billy Where did you see her? Alice I dont know. Billy You must – you must – you must! Tell me – tell me – tell me – Alice leaves the window in agitation. Billy You must remember! Alice (calming herself) I thought I’d seen her. (She looks out of the window again.) I was wrong. Billy Then why’re you still looking? Alice (leaves the window) Show me your drawing. Billy Shant! I cant look out of the window. You never let me look out when I want. I shant let you see my drawing. It’s a good one. Alice You might be seen – Billy I’d be careful. Alice – then there’d be trouble. Billy Dont care. Alice Let me look at your drawing. Billy No and it’s my best drawing ever. I’ve put birds in the nest. (Draws.) She looks like you. Alice What? Billy The prisoner looks like you. Alice She doesnt! – Why d’you say that? Billy Cause it’s true. Only she’s old. Ever so. I’ll draw her like a witch. Will the soldier shoot her with his gun? Alice Dont be silly. Billy He might if he gets fed up waiting for the bus. She’s cried a lot. It’s washed all her face away but left the dirt. She hasnt cried for a long time. Alice You’re talking nonsense.

Billy I’m not. I can tell. (Draws.) Where d’you think you saw her? Alice Not answering any more stupid questions. Billy Shouldnt have secrets. They’re bad. You dont like it when I have secrets. Shall I look to see if she’s still there? Alice No. Billy The bus’ll go away for ever. Alice What does that mean? Billy If the bus takes her away you wont see her again. If the bus comes back it wont be the same bus. The windows will be empty. You could go down and ask her if she’s met you. I expect she’d tell you. Alice She hasnt met me. Billy I’m drawing you being gobbled up by a crocodile. It hasnt eaten for weeks so it’s making a good meal of you. Your legs are dangling out its mouth. Your face is all ugly cause you’re screaming. You look like the lady in the street. (Draws.) She’s been standing there a long time. If she stands much longer she’ll fall down. The soldier should let her sit. (Draws.) They were there ages and ages ago when I had breakfast. Alice You looked! Billy (smug) When you were in our other room. Alice How many times must I tell you! You’re not to go to the window when I’m not here! Billy No one sees me. I’m careful. I dont touch the curtains. Alice One day you’ll forget! People will know you’re here! Billy Dont care! Dont care! (Cries.) Alice You will when they take you away! No good crying then! Billy Dont like it here! Dont like you! (Crying.) Why cant I go out? I want to play in the street! If you let me play in the street I’d get better! You never let me do anything. Never never never. You never take me shopping. You put nails in the window so I cant open it. Will I never get out? Alice Stop it! Stop it! – Billy I cant go through all this this morning.

Billy (grates his teeth) I’ll break the window! Billy sulks in silence. Alice You’ve got your drawing. Billy O yes I’ve got my drawing. That’s what you always say: you’ve got your drawing. Dont like drawing. Alice You do. You draw lovely things. Billy (stares at a drawing) … Yes … But I’d like to see real things. That’d be nice. They wont take me away will they? Alice No. Silence. Billy You could go down and ask her her name. Then when I draw her I’ll put a little bubble in her mouth and she says ‘My name is –.’ But I dont know what to put. The drawing’ll be spoilt. Alice You’re not allowed to speak to prisoners. Billy She might speak to you. Alice Prisoners arent allowed to speak. Billy She might to you because you look like her. If you went down and walked past you could have a good look at her. Then you’d see. Alice The soldier wouldnt let me. Billy Why? Alice You’re not allowed to look at prisoners. D’you want a biscuit with your tea? Billy You could take a chair down. Alice What? Billy The old prisoner could sit on it. Then you could have a good look. Sometimes I draw an eye and put everything in it. It’d hurt really but it’s good. Alice Prisoners arent allowed to sit.

Billy The soldier could sit on it. You could say: O excuse me I didnt know prisoners arent – then the soldier could sit on it – as you’d brought it down. I should think he’d like to sit. He’s been standing since I had my breakfast. Silence. He makes a few marks on his drawing. Chocolate digestive please. Alice Would you behave if I went down? Billy O yes I’d get on with my drawing ’cause it’s really good. Alice I’d only be gone a minute. That’s all it’d take. Billy Well anyway I expect you’re not allowed to take chairs down. I should think that’s forbidden. I bet soldiers like standing. Alice Perhaps I met her once. If I saw her close to I’d –. It’ll stay on my mind if I dont know. Billy I’ll squiggle all over the paper – squiggle her out. Gone – gone – gone. (Holds up page.) Look. Now you dont have to go down. Alice I’ll only be gone a minute. Billy She doesnt look like you. I made that up! And you fell for it! (Laughs.) Alice You promised to behave. Billy You’re not allowed to speak to prisoners. Or to look at them. Not allowed to go near. Alice I’m just taking a chair for the soldier. Billy No no! Don’t go! If you go I’ll get lost! Alice You cant get lost in two little rooms. Billy I can! I can! I get lost in my head! You dont understand! Dont go! O dear! (Sobs.) I’m naughty! It’s my fault! I shouldnt have said about the chair. (Wail.) The soldier wont let you come back! He frightens me! Alice picks up a chair. Billy (panic) No no! Dont! Dont!

Alice (steady) What am I supposed to do? If I dont go, in a minute it’ll be ‘Go – go – go.’ When the bus takes her away: ‘Why didnt you go?’ You never stop. Billy I cant help it! I dont want to be like I am! Alice Dont spoil your drawing. Billy ’Spoilt! ’S all wet! Your fault! Alice I’ll come straight back. Lock the door. Dont open it to anyone. Billy O dear. O dear. Alice When I come back I’ll make the tea and biscuits. Alice goes out and shuts the door. Billy locks it. He hesitates between his drawing and the window.

Second Picture Street. A few passing cars. A Soldier and a Prisoner. He wears work fatigues and a beret. His rifle is slung on his back. He is tired and bored. The Prisoner is old. Her grey hair is shorn. Her head and thin face are skull-like. The reddish bone seems to shine through the skin and turn her face into a living mask. It is marked with black dry blood. She has no shoes. Her uniform is thin, filthy, torn. Her head is bent down to look at the ground. Soldier (looks to the side. Calls) What yer want? Alice (off) You’ve been waiting a long time. Soldier (calls off) What yer want? Alice (off) This service gets worse. You can wait a whole day. Soldier (calls off. Not over-anxious) Stay there. No closer. Alice (off) There used to be a pull-down bench on the side of the shelter. Vandals took it. Soldier (calls off) Whass that chair? Alice (off) I live up there. Second floor. I brought the chair for you.

Soldier (calls off) Why? Alice (off) Not right you standing so long. If it’s not allowed I’ll take it back. Soldier (calls off) No. Give it ’ere. Alice comes on. She gives the chair to the Soldier. The Prisoner does not look up. Soldier Considerate. (Sits.) Civvies’d pinch the body bags off the dead t’ do their shoppin in. Alice The bus service isn’t the government’s fault. Soldier Yer can go indoors now. Alice It’s the bandits. They hold the buses up and break open the – Soldier Yeh – now ’op it. Alice What’s she done? Soldier Dont ask me. I just deliver ’em. Yer’d better go. Alice She’s asleep on her feet. Soldier No. Keeps ’er eyes down per order. She knows ’ow t’ look when she wants to. Soon looks if she thinks it’s ’er bus. Cant trust none a’ ’em. Sly bitches. Alice I dont know why people cause trouble. We’ve got all we want. Why must some take it from others? Soldier I’ll leave yer chair in the porch when the bus comes. Alice Some people are never satisfied with – Soldier Listen. It’s an ordinary day. No sun but nice. I do me job. Yer’ve got yern t’ see to. Go indoors. Not allowed t’ frat on duty. Alice I thought while I was down you’d like to – Soldier Whass goin on? Alice Nothing. I just thought as –

Soldier I bit watchin yer. Yer been stood at that winder all mornin. I saw yer be’ind the curtain. What yer come down for? Alice She’s looking up? Soldier (stands) Take yer chair ’n scarper! Piss runs from the bottom of the Prisoner’s uniform. Alice O she’s – the poor – Soldier Chriss why did I get involved with – Alice She’s wetting herself – Alice tries to go to the Prisoner. Soldier She’s always pissin ’erself – ’n I ’ave t’ stick the stench a’ the – Soldier pulls Alice away. The Prisoner stands, pisses and points a long bony arm and finger at Alice. Alice She’s pointing at – Soldier (takes rifle from his back. Violent hiss) Take yer chair – take yer chair ’n go. (He looks round at the buildings to see who watches.) Alice But she’s pointing at –. (To Prisoner.) What is it you – ? Prisoner leans forward, tries to take a step towards Alice. Alice starts to leave. She hesitates. Alice She’s going to fall on the – Alice comes back. Soldier Yer chair – take yer – ! Prisoner falls over. Reaches out towards Alice. A car passes. Alice Help her! She’s crawling on the – Soldier Enough! Enough! That car slowed down – looked out the winder – ! Yer’ll git us both in the shit – Alice (going) Yes yes – I’m sorry – I didnt want to – Soldier Yer chair! The Prisoner is still on the ground. She grabs hold of the chair.

Soldier Take yer – ! (He tries to drag the chair.) O my god the bitch’s – ! Let go – ! The Prisoner clings to the chair, crawling in between the struts. The Soldier drags the chair with one hand. His other hand grips his rifle. Soldier Bitch! Bitch! Alice (coming back) No no dont drag her on the – her knees are – not to drag her on the – ! Soldier (panics) What is this! Why wont she – ! Let it – ! Bitch! (Kicks the Prisoner.) Bitch! Bitch! Alice (pummelling the Soldier) Stop it! Stop it! Dont – Soldier (to Alice) Yer cant – I’m on duty – cant ’it a – (Bewildered – he can’t get the chair from the Prisoner.) What is this? ’Oo is she? ’Ow can she – ? (He looks up at the buildings. Through his teeth.) Jeesus – thass all I need – witnesses – a bloody audience! (Calls.) Off! Off! Shut yer curtains ’n –. I’ll shoot! (Goes towards the houses.) There’s nothin ’ere! Nothin’s ’appenin! Nothin t’ see! Gawpin shite-’ounds! Shut them curtains! Shut it! O god why do I always get ’em – ? The Soldier turns to Alice. She is kneeling by the Prisoner trying to make her speak. The Prisoner glares at her through the chair. Alice (quietly to the Prisoner) What is – I cant – Soldier (horrified) Dont talk! Dont talk! ’S criminal! – worse ’n – ! Dont talk! Up! Git up! Alice She’s trying to speak! She wants to say – Soldier (tugging at chair) Give me the – ! Alice Let her! Let her be – she’s an old – Soldier (controlling himself) Yeh – yeh – calm. Keep it in order. ’S nothin. She fell over. ’It the chair. Normal accident – type a’ thing that – nothin t’ – Alice Let her speak – she – Soldier (outburst) No! No! (Struggling.) Give me the chair! Or – ! (Sees faces in windows.) I tol’ yer t’ – (Goes towards houses. Waves rifle.) Git! I tol’ yer! I got yer numbers! – I know ’oo yer – ! I’ll – ! (He has frightened

them from the windows.) Yeh! Thass it! Stay there! – out a’ sight! (Sees someone at a window.) An’ yer! I know yer be’ind that curtain! Believe me the less yer see the better. (Looks along the houses.) All a’ yer! Prisoner Uh – uh – uh – uh – Alice I cant – my dear – I cant understand what you – try – try – Prisoner Uh – uh – uh – Alice My dear – tell me – please – (The Prisoner grasps the chair struts. Alice tries to fondle the back of her hands.) Put your hand through the bars – Prisoner Uh – uh – Soldier (turns. Sees Alice) She’s kneelin with the – ! Up! I cant ’ave that – no thass –. They’re all there. Watchin. Be’ind their bloody winders! Witnessin the – ! Yer get us all shot! Alice (weeping, to the Prisoner) Tell me – tell me – Soldier (yells to windows) Yer all in this. Yer put ’er up t’ the – ! I’ll flatten this street with you under it! (Tugs at chair. Rages. To Alice.) ’Old the – ! Drag ’er out! Wont shoot! Wont shoot! Nothin’s ’appenin! No inquiry – make – still get it sorted – nobody knows nothin’s ’appen – ! (Stamps on Prisoner’s hands.) Bitch! Bitch! (Stops. Looks up.) Is – ? (Steps back.) Thass the – ! Alice (to the Prisoner) I cant understand – Prisoner Uh – uh – uh – Soldier Bus! – Thank chriss for – ! He pulls Alice away from the Prisoner. He turns to look down the street towards the bus. The Prisoner stands. Her head is trapped in the broken chair. Her hands reach out to grasp Alice’s head. She draws it towards her. The Soldier goes towards the bus. Chriss! – if ’e sees this – the driver ain stop – not get involve in the – (Yells.) Stop! Stop! Stop! ’S ’n order! Alice (to the Prisoner) Forgive me – forgive me – forgive me – I cant help you – I dont know what to –

The bus passes. Soldier (half follows it) Stop! Stop! Bastard! I’ll shoot yer blasted tyres off the bloody – no chriss – cant! It’d crash! (His rifle hangs from his hand. Almost tearful.) Useless. Useless. (Half to himself, half to Alice.) There’d be ’n inquiry – the worst thing that could – yer must tell ’em I – (Yells after bus.) Stop! Bastard! ’S round the corner ’n I yell! (Half rehearsing his evidence.) – driver drove on ’n I yell ’im t’ – called upon the driver t’ – (Yells after the bus.) Bastard! Bastard! (Turns to the buildings but turns back to yell at the bus.) Yer’ll be in shit one day ’n want a – Prisoner (leaning towards Alice) Uhuhuhuhuhuh – The Prisoner bites Alice’s face. Alice Oach! Soldier comes back to Alice and the Prisoner. The Prisoner stands, her head still in the chair. Soldier (to Prisoner) Down! Down! Look at the ground! (He looks round taking stock.) Right. (To Alice.) You did this. Brought the chair. (Shouts up at windows.) They ain saw nothin! ’Ad no reason to – nothin ’appened! Anyone say otherwise – yer’ll be visit. Not official. Me mates! Own mob. We know when t’ do each other a good turn. (Slings his rifle on his back.) Worse ’n an inquiry. They’ll skin yer alive ’n put it back on backwards. (To himself.) Yeh, yeh … (Glances at the buildings.) Will they listen? (Through his teeth.) Will they ’ell. Alice has gone off back to her house. The Prisoner stumbles after her. The broken chair clatters to the ground. Soldier Thass it! The Soldier runs off after the Prisoner. He snatches up the pieces of chair as he goes. Prisoner (off) Uh – uh – uh – uh – Off, a shot.

Third Picture

Living room. Billy sits at the table. He draws. The door is unlocked – Alice comes in. She locks the door behind her. She goes to the window. She looks out. Billy goes on drawing for a while. Billy I’ve been good. I’ve been drawing a story. Shall I tell you? Look – the man got up one morning. He said ‘Today I’m going to the furthest place in the whole world.’ Which is a long way to go. If our window was ten times bigger – a million million times bigger – you couldnt see the furthest place in the world. Well the man went down the road till he came to a big ditch. He looked over the edge. It was so deep he couldnt see the bottom. He heard the ditch growling and grinding its teeth. Look – I’ve put the teeth in. (Growls.) The man said – I havent thought of his name yet – ‘I’m not going down there. I must jump over the ditch.’ He jumped and the ditch reared up and snapped at him. Snap! Snap! He just managed to reach the other side. It was his lucky day. But he lost one of his two shoes. D’you like the story so far? It’s good isn’t it? It gets better. Shall we have our tea and biscuit now? I’ll finish the story first. The man comes to the mountain. It’s so high it’s got a hill on top like a hat. The man has to climb the mountain or he’ll never get to the furthest place. It’s hard work. He’s sweating so hard the sweat rolls off him and gets under his feet. It makes him slide backwards. He keeps going up and down. Having one shoe doesnt help. (Draws.) That’s the skid marks on the side of the mountain. That’s the blobs of sweat. Ugh! That’s good isn’t it? It looks as if a great big giant has clawed the side of the mountain with his claws. That’s how he loses his next shoe. Why were you sweaty when you came in? Dont look out the window. Come and see my drawing. You’ll like the story better then. You can see it. Guess what comes next. The man gets to the sea. It’s big. It goes far out and runs away under the sky. The man says I must cross the sea or I’ll never get to the furthest place. He looks round for a boat. The pirates have taken all the boats. That’s the man on the shore. He’s tiny because – O I forgot the forest. I turned the pages too fast. That’s where the man lost his way. He had to ask a – no I wont go back. I’ll show you the forest later. Where’s our chair? Why did the soldier fire his gun? (No answer.) The sea’s the exciting bit. The man says – I’ll think of his name soon – ‘There arent any boats. I’ll walk.’ You cant walk on the water in the bath. There isnt enough water to get started. There has to be a lot. And you cant walk on the water unless you take your shoes off. The man doesnt know that. It’s a secret. That’s why I made him lose his shoes. Dont look out the window. Listen to the story. You’ll feel better. The

man walks miles and miles. All day. When he looks round all he sees is the sea. He cant tell which way to walk any more. He could be walking in circles. No boat comes sailing by so he cant ask the sailors. The fish dont know. They go round in circles all the time. He’s lost. I’ve drawn a little dot-thing in the middle of the page. That’s him. I’ll call him Mr Dot. Hello Mr Dot! What happens next is really good. Guess. Try! Mr Dot says ‘I’ll go all the way back and start again.’ So he turns round and follows his footsteps. That’s his footsteps on the water. That’s Mr Dot walking on them. Mr Dot wasnt lost after all! You’ll never guess what happens next. I’ll have to tell you. Whoosh! Woo! Swish! Bang! Wallop! The big black storm comes up. The storm’s the lines. Slash! Slash! The water’s chucked up everywhere. Mr Dot’s thrown up and down. Bouncing like a ball. Then the storm’s fed up with being a storm where it is. It goes off and be’s a storm somewhere else. Mr Dot’s on his own again. He sits up on the water – that’s because the storm knocked him down. He’s glad the storm’s gone. He looks round. The sea’s calm. Flat as a pancake that’s been sat on by an elephant. He gets to his feet. He turns round to go on with his walk. And what does he see? The storm’s washed out his footprints. All of them. Gone. Poor Mr Dot. He’s lost. (Sucks breath through his teeth – ends in a harsh little giggle.) Phew! What a story. The man didnt get to the furthest place in all the world. It doesnt matter. That’s where the storm came from. Alice goes from the window to the table. Billy Look at Mr Dot in the middle of the – Alice takes the sheet and tears it in half. Billy Dont! What’re you doing! Tearing my drawing! Dont! Dont! Alice tears more drawings. She pulls drawings from the wall and tears them. Billy No! No! Leave them! Dont! Alice You cant be a child all your life! Billy Dont! Dont! Alice Help me! Billy I’m not a child! They’re my drawings! Not yours! Dont! Dont! Dont!

Alice Help me! Billy No! No! Why! You’re cruel! Wicked! Alice (tearing drawings) They must all be torn! Burnt! Billy No! Leave them there! Alice stands on a chair to get the highest drawings. Alice Help me! Tear them! Billy No! No! Not that one! I like the – No! (He snatches a drawing from her hand.) Alice Someone will come. Be sent. There’ll be an inquiry. Billy No there wont! You’re making it up. Alice (tearing) Because of the chair. If they see the drawings they know you’re here. Billy They wont! No one will come! Alice (tearing) Burn them. Burn them and put the ashes down the toilet. Billy Tell them you did them. I dont mind that. When they’ve gone they’re mine again. Alice (his signature on a drawing) I’m not called Billy. Billy I’ll rub my name out. Alice (tearing) They’re a child’s drawings. Billy I’m not a child! Alice (tearing) You draw like a child. Billy Dont! Dont! Dont! Leave them! Please! They’re all I’ve got for me! Alice Help me! Billy No! No! Not that one! Please! O please! Is it because I said about the chair? I didnt mean it. You didnt have to do it. My parks and trees and stories. Alice pulls the drawing from his hand. It tears. Billy (howls) Ow! Look what you’ve done! Torn! Torn!

Alice takes the last drawings from the wall. She tears them. She puts the pieces in a bin liner. The bare wall is a utilitarian grey. Billy (bewildered, mourning) … why – why – why – why … Alice When the inquiry comes you must hide. Billy Dont want to hide. Wont. Alice And keep very quiet. Billy What inquiry – ? Alice I told you. Billy (tearfully) Where can I hide? There’s nowhere to – Alice Under your bed. No one will know you’re there if you’re quiet. Billy Will it be like our hiding game? Alice Yes. Only this is a real game. Billy (still tearfully) I’m good at hiding arent I? You never find me. Remember when I stood on the sideboard. You walked by lots and lots. You couldnt see me. I stood still. I wanted to laugh. I had to push my fist in my tummy to stop. It was fun! Alice This time you must be even quieter. Billy Wow! What’s a real game? Alice When you mustnt lose. Billy We’d better practise. Silence. He sits in his chair. He rocks with excitement. He giggles. Mustnt! (Rocks.) Alice You’ll have to keep still – not – Billy Sh! Sh! (Silence. Whispers.) Can I take some drawings under the bed? Alice No. Billy Whisper. It’s a real game isn’t it? When the inquiry’s gone I’ll do the drawings again. All of them. That’ll be a big work. Take ages. I’ll make them even better this time.

Alice (quietly) Yes. Billy Sh! Sh! Why did the soldier shoot his gun? (No answer.) Why are there so many secrets? (No answer.) Where did I come from? How did I get here? Alice I thought it was better you didnt know. If you were ever asked you couldnt tell. It would be better for you. Billy Yes. (Pause.) I should like to know one day. Then I could draw it. Silence. Alice I found you. Billy … Gosh. Where? Tell me. Alice In the street. There was a heap of empty cartons on the pavement outside a store. You were in one of them. Billy How did I get there? No dont tell me. Let me guess. (Thinks.) Um. It’s hard. Alice I heard you in the box. The first sound a mother hears from her child: crying. I walked by. Then I saw a woman watching in a shop doorway. She was waiting to see what happened to you. Billy (boast) That was me. Alice I went back and took you out of the box. You were wet and cold. Billy I’m in a story too like Mr Dot. Alice I took you to the shop doorway. It was dark. The woman put out her hand. I thought she was going to take you. She hit me with her fist. Pushed me away. Billy O lor’. Alice She went to the back of the doorway. Kicking out. Kicking the air. Jabbing with her leg. Billy Then? What came next? Alice I put you on the floor. Billy Wow!

Alice She came out of the corner. Edged past me. Her back to the wall. She went down the street. Looked back to see if I was following. (Stops as if she has finished.) Billy Then what happened? Alice I went back to the cartons. They were empty except for strips of the sticking tape they use to seal them. And delivery notes. There was a stain in your box. Billy What did the woman in the doorway look like? I’ll put it in my drawing. Alice (shakes head) I told you it was dark. She was thin. Her hair was in her face. I remember her kicking the air. She had a black dress – you can put that in the drawing. Billy Yes. (Pause. Still whispering.) We’ve practised long enough havent we? Alice You must be very quiet when they come. Billy Like I am when I sleep. Alice More than that. Quieter than you’ve ever been before. Billy (normal voice) Yes! I can hear how quiet I’ll be. (Slight pause.) Finish the rest of the story. Why was I in the box? Alice I picked you up. Brought you here. I was going to hand you in. Billy Where? Alice To the authorities. That’s what your mother was supposed to do. Billy Why didnt she? Alice Perhaps she couldnt. Billy If I drew the doorway – and that: the cartons and black dress – one day she might see the picture – I’ll put Billy on it so she’ll know. Why didnt you? Alice What? Billy Hand me in?

Alice I meant to. I left it a few days. Then it was too late. I’d’ve been charged with concealment for not handing you in straight away. Billy How long ago did the story happen? Alice You’re twenty-six. Billy Why dont I grow up? Alice Because you’ve never left this room. Billy I’m going to practise being quiet under the bed. (Goes to door to the other room.) If you hear me shout. He goes out and closes the door behind him. Alice starts to tear the drawings into smaller pieces. Billy (off) Can you hear me being quiet?

Fourth Picture The living room. The Welfare Officer has just arrived. She wears a grey uniform that might just pass for civilian clothes. She has an office case in which are a recording device and a laptop containing files. Officer We’ll use your table if that’s agreeable. Alice sits facing the window. The Officer sits with her back to it. She arranges her laptop and recorder on the table. Officer The procedure is formal but designed to be non-intimidating. Should you not understand anything stop me and I’ll explain. First I record the formalities. (She switches on the recorder.) Welfare Department Inquiry 7PR11 held at the domicile of the examinee Alice Acromby second floor 2376 Goose Green Street London Z02M by Welfare Officer Fourth Class VK74K on 18 July 2077. Ms Acromby do you accept my adjudication in the aforementioned Inquiry? (Switches off recorder.) Say yes if you do. (She switches on the recorder.) Alice Yes. Officer I am required to inform you that you may call independent witnesses – though the department sees itself as best able to protect your interests. The incident is described in the report file VYD-74KE. The

soldier’s deposition is verified in all relevant respects by independent witnesses. Statements attached. The incident occurred on the street outside this building on 15 July 2077. In the course of the incident the soldier’s tunic (fatigues) sustained three tears. An elderly escortee was shot once. Terminal. No known next of kin. A chair sustained damage. Can you confirm you were the owner of the chair? Alice Yes. Officer The chair was deemed unsalvageable. The department does not accept liability for replacement. The cost of repair to the soldier’s uniform falls below the recovery minimum. Accordingly the department lodges no claim for damages. The female escortee had already forfeited her civil rights. I deem the incident to have resulted in no significant material damage. I turn to the question of cause. Are you comfortable? Alice Yes. Officer Tell me in your own words what happened. Alice The soldier was at the bus stop. He’d been waiting – Officer The time is not material. (She turns off the recorder.) In point of fact it was three hours forty-seven minutes. In the present permanent state of alert passengers are happy to cooperate by waiting patiently. (She switches on the recorder.) The soldier states that you observed him from – it would be this window – for three hours two minutes. (Switches off the recorder.) At a time of unrest when all movements must be monitored three hours forty-seven minutes is not overlong to wait for a bus but (she switches on the recorder) three hours two minutes is a long time to keep watch from a window on a quiet street. You would agree. Alice I was just watching. Officer But you went down into the street. Alice Yes. Officer Why? Alice To take the chair down. Officer In fact the soldier confirms that you entered the street carrying the chair referred to in the opening of this report. Why?

Alice To offer it to the soldier. Officer Why? Alice To sit. Officer Quite so. And it was your judgement he needed to sit? Alice I thought he might like to. Officer Why? (Slight pause.) The examinee shrugs her shoulders. Did he appear tired? Alice No. Officer Forgive me – then I fail to see why? Alice He’d been waiting for – Officer Keep to the point. Alice It seemed longer than – Officer Did you feel he was inadequately prepared for escort duties? The department welcomes frank expression of public opinion. Alice No. Officer Then …? (Changes tack.) The soldier says you were unknown to him. Alice Yes. Officer You had not spoken to or seen him before the incident? Alice No. Officer So you took a chair into the street for a soldier unknown to you to sit on while on duty though you did not consider he needed it? Alice It was silly. Officer You had noticed the soldier was on escort duty. Alice Yes. Officer Did you perhaps know the escortee? Alice No.

Officer The soldier asserts that the escortee immediately recognised you. Alice No. Officer That you held a whispered conversation with her. He was particularly questioned on this point. I am minded to believe him. After all the fact for him was grave. Unauthorised communication with escortees is strictly forbidden. I ask you again. Did this whispered communication take place? You may take your time. Perhaps you will recollect. Alice No. Officer You did not kneel to her in the course of it? Alice I wanted a – she seemed to be talking – I tried to hear what – Officer And did you? Alice No. Officer Nothing – though you knelt? Alice She made a noise. Officer Could you say what sort of noise? Noises have meaning. Was the escortee communicating by ‘suggestion’? Even code? The idea will seem risible to a member of the public. It should not. Even eyelids have been used on occasion. The number of blinks is enciphered. Messages of fatal consequence had been passed in even more recherché forms. (No answer.) Could you help me by imitating the noise made? I am trained in ciphering. Pause. Alice Uh uh. Silence. What did she do? Officer Beg pardon? Alice What offence had – ? Officer Why do you ask? Alice Perhaps it would tell me – us – what she was trying – if – Officer I dont see the relevance of –

Alice What did she do? Officer The details are in another file. I have no access to it. The department’s rescript is limited to the incident. (Silence.) The escortee was an NC7. A minor category of non-aggravating but persistent offenders. More nuisances. Old biddies who roam the streets between public houses throwing bricks at windows – they usually fall short – and lifting their skirts. Sad for the most part. I want to go back to your earlier responses. You agree the soldier was not fatigued. (Pause.) Yes? Alice I’m sorry – I didnt realise you wanted an – Officer The prisoner was of course. Fatigued. Alice I didnt notice. Officer Yet you were at the window three hours two minutes. Alice It’s forbidden to look at prisoners in transit. Officer (slight pause) I’m sure that in three hours two minutes your eyes would have strayed? Even if not till three hours one minute. (Silence.) In any case her exhaustion would have been reasonably assumed. An elderly female convict – let’s call her that – in transit to the PrisCit Blocks – you knew them to be a stop on this bus route – you had seen others escorted there. Alice Yes. Officer These people have ways of drawing attention to themselves. Your awareness would have been understandable. The crushed hand from which blood seeped. The soldier reports that some of the blood had become smeared on the base of the column of the halt sign where dogs piss. Not noticed? Alice No. Officer Criminals are public enemies. They cannot be tolerated. You would agree if you knew the harm and suffering they cause. Pity for them is an insult to the law. It is a conspiracy with the criminal to aid and abet the crime. You see what I am suggesting. You took the chair down to the prisoner out of pity.

Silence. The Officer opens her case. She takes out a photograph in a transparent cover. It is tagged with a blue strip. She holds it out to Alice. The examinee is shown exhibit 15. Please hold this photograph in your hand. (Alice takes the photograph.) Taken in the morgue – where often even the weariest features compose themselves into an expression of peace. Here not. You see the fatigue. Haggard even. Please hold it steadily so that you may see clearly. Notice the dry blood on her beard. (Uses pencil as pointer.) What you see there are chips of teeth adhering to the surface – perhaps embedded over time. (She takes a magnifying glass out of her case.) This will give you the benefit of forensic exactness. (Alice takes the glass. Looks through it at the photograph.) From the second storey the details might not be noticed. Close to – the position in which you put yourself – they would. What you saw changed your mind. You took the chair down for the soldier. You gave it to the prisoner. Alice No. The Officer takes a small transparent packet out of her case. It is tagged with a yellow strip. She holds it out to Alice. Officer The examinee is shown exhibit 49. The pathologist removed these hairs from the old woman’s nails. Alice What did she do? Officer The hair is from your head. Alice What did she do? Officer You are entitled to ask for a DNA confirmation. The department has a policy of avoiding expense in minor inquiries. Alice I didnt know her! I couldnt know anyone in that state if I’d lived with them for the whole of my life! Take your photograph off my table where I eat! Officer The examinee shows signs of excitability. Your cheek is scarred. That is where the prisoner bit you. Alice Bit! – she tried to kiss me. Officer The soldier has it: (reads) yanked her head down and bit her cheek.

Alice She tried to kiss me. Officer Why? – if you were two unknowns. Alice How long had the soldiers had her? Did they – what did they – ? They gave you a picture of it! Officer If she had been in her right mind she would not have disputed the army’s duty to question her. She cooperated as best she could. Accepted sentence. Her conduct was exemplary till she saw you and became violently agitated – Alice What did they do to her hand? Officer You tell me why an old woman – physically stretched under questioning – who frittered away the last chances offered her – en route to the PrisCit Blocks which she certainly knew to be her last journey – would kiss a stranger of whom she knew nothing except that she owned a chair? Alice What did she do? Officer If you have no explanation I shall remand you in custody for further questioning. This place will be closed and sealed. I have soldiers waiting downstairs. Silence. Alice (flat) I brought the chair for the soldier. She thought it was meant for her. Officer She saw pity in you. That’s why she kissed you. Alice She bit me. Officer … I dont see how you can say that if you maintain … Alice She’d forgotten what pity was. She wasnt used to it. I was the only person who didnt hit her. She took that for a sign of kindness. It was the kindness that frightened her. She bit me. The Officer stands. She goes to the bedroom door. Opens it. From the doorway she looks into the room. Sees no one there. She turns. Office (reflectively) ‘Uh. Uh.’ Just the two vocalisations? (No answer. She leaves the door open. Goes back to the table. Switches off the recorder.)

D’you mind if I pour myself a tea? (She takes a flask out of her case.) Some people offer but I prefer to drink my own. The Officer unscrews her flask. Pours tea. Alice What will happen to the soldier. Officer PrisCit. (Sips.) I dislike these visits. The questioning goes nowhere. There’s so much to attend to. The welfare of the young – the aged – the many needy categories. However your explanation is novel. The department will be interested. Perhaps there is a mutation in public sentiment. (She turns on the recorder.) I am minded to bring this inquiry to a close. I deem the soldier to have been mistaken. The escortee did not communicate with the examinee. She had nothing to communicate. The examinee’s excited outburst indicates to me emotional instability. Perhaps brought on by living alone. In all probability it is why she took the chair down to the street. (To Alice.) I shall issue a non-custodial supervision order on your behalf. You will receive regular department visits. It will help you to cope. (She switches off the recorder. Sips.) PrisCit is not what it is in the public mind. The department provides a choice. A tablet or an injection in a friendly clinic. Without cost to the individual or any intimate circle or organisation. Cremation is provided and a short ceremony offered. There is a list of approved readings and musical items. Choices may be ticked. The list is not mandatory. If there is a favourite poem or tune it may be substituted. The official in charge speaks only of the good. The former sadness and bitterness go. Each is given a block of marble resin and a thornless rose bush. The garden of remembrance is landscaped to be a haven of tranquillity. The wardens eat their lunchtime sandwiches there. The department also provides a floral tribute. Personalised floral offerings encourage emotional excess and other vulgarities. They draw attention to the few surviving social inequalities. In death democracy – or where! (Sips.) I’m sure we agree. (Screws top on flask.) I have a busy day! (She packs her case.) You have a second room. Your file has you down as a single. The former administration was slipshod over details. Space is an ecological priority. I’ll reclassify you as a single. I’ll resettle you near the department. It will be convenient. (Taps into laptop.) Not to overlook a bus stop. It’ll take a day or two. Be patient. Shall we shake hands? (Handshake.) The department thanks you for your cooperation.

The Officer lets herself out through the door to the staircase. She closes it behind her. Alice shuts the bedroom door. Alice (whispers through the door) Wait. She goes towards the window. Stops before she gets to it. Goes to the door to the staircase. Listens. Comes further into the room. Waits. It’s all right. The door opens cautiously. Billy looks through the opening. Alice She’s gone. Billy goes to Alice. He puts his arms round her for protection. He is making a mechanical, grating sound of repressed crying. Billy Make it stop. Make it go. Alice Sh. I must talk to you. Billy Dont like her. She smells like my crayons when I spit on them to make them wet. (He still makes the grating sound.) Make it go. Cant stop – Alice Sh! Sh! Billy (hiccupping) She scares me. Alice (comforts him) Sh. Let me think. Sit down. Billy sits at the table. She sits facing him. Alice I must go away. Billy I dont like that lady. Billy gets up and goes to Alice. Alice No. Sit. You must listen. Billy sits. Alice I must go away – Billy What’s it mean? Alice The lady has made an order to … (Her voice trails away.) I must go away. Billy Where? Where to?

Alice Wait. I will – I will write it all down – Billy No! No! Why’re you funny! (Realises. Shock.) You mean for ever. (Window.) Like the bus –. You’ll take me with you. You must! Promise! Alice It’s not – I cant! The lady – ! Billy You must! You must! Dont leave me! Cant! I cant be on my own! I’ll get lost! You never let me sing! Cant sing case someone hears! Take me! I wont get in a state! I promise! It’s the drawings! I’ll smash the – ! Smash my – ! He breaks his crayons. All the – all the – (Sees a crayon.) Not the – can I keep the red one I – let me. The rest! All the rest. Look! I’m doing it! All the rest! Alice watches him. Billy stops breaking the crayons. He has a violent attack of hiccups. Alice doesn’t help him. Billy Cant stop. It’s me. I do everything bad. I make it bad for you. That’s why you’re going away. Dont leave me. Why am I different? Alice You’re not. Billy I am. I know that. Alice Yes – but you’re a good boy. Billy I want to be a man. Alice You will be. You’re going to be good and help me. Billy I’m not good. I dont know how. Alice Billy I dont choose things. I have to deal with them as they are. You have to do that now. Then you’ll grow up. Billy Will I? You promise? Alice You cant stay here any more. Billy (shocked) I – go – ? (Points to window.) Alice I’ll write everything down for you – Billy I – you take me –

Alice No. Billy I cant! I cant! He runs into the other room. Slams the door. He is heard crying. For a moment Alice stares into space. She takes a piece of crayon and paper. Writes. Billy (off) Has she gone? (Waits. Sobs.) Gone yet? You’re jealous you cant draw! Alice writes. The door opens. Billy comes out. Stares at her. Billy ( flat) I thought you’d gone. Alice You must do exactly what it says in the paper. If you get it wrong – Billy I do want to be a man. Alice I will post a letter. You wait. Billy With you? Alice I wont be here. Billy No – no – dont keep sayin that – Alice Sh. When they get the letter some men will come. You must give them an envelope. Billy Will they know where you are? Alice Give them the envelope. They will know what to do. They’re used to it. You must give them the envelope. If you dont it’ll be very bad. It has their money. Billy I cant. It’s too hard. Alice Keep to what’s written. The men will go away. Make sure you eat and wash. The next day – or the one after – a man will come. Billy To take me with him? Alice You give him an envelope. I’ll prepare two. He will give you a box. Not big. Put on your overcoat and scarf – Billy Like when we play dressing up?

Alice Go down in the street. (Billy groans and turns to go to the door to the other room.) You must help me Billy. Billy (stops) … Go down to the street. Alice Dont look back. It might frighten you – and you’d come –. Just walk. Billy Where? Alice Keep walking till you find a car park. You know what that is. You’ve seen the newspapers. Not a small one. You must walk till you come to a big one. Then hide till it’s dark. Billy Why? Alice People drive away then. The car park will be empty. Walk to the middle. Billy Yes – in the dark – ’cause no one will see me. Alice Open the box. Inside there’s a canister. Unscrew the lid. Take out the dust. Throw it on the car park. On the ground. Scatter it. Dont get it on your clothes. Billy Why cant the men do it? Alice They’d break their word. You have to do it for me. Billy What do I do with the box next? Alice It doesnt matter. Drop it in a rubbish bin. Billy If I get it on my clothes I’ll brush it off. Hard – like this! (Brushes his clothes.) Then I’ll wash my hands. Like I did when we burnt the drawings and got rid of the ashes. This is a big story isn’t it! What happens next? Alice In the morning the cars come back. The wheels will pick up the dust. When they drive off that night it’ll be on their wheels. They’ll spread it on the streets. All of it. Everywhere over the city. Till nothing’s left. Dont wait for that. Walk away. Dont try to come back here. You wouldnt find it. Anyway it wouldnt be here. Locked. Disinfected. Just walk. Forget me. Forget my name. If you ever say it the welfare will take you. Forget my face. Forget you were here. No one will remember me. No one will know me. Strangers will take me away. Strangers will put me in the furnace. A stranger will bring you the box. There’ll be no flowers. No music. No

speaking. No people standing in lines. No grass. No stone. Nothing they can get their hands on and say it’s theirs. Nothing. I was never here. I was never anywhere. I never was. I was nothing. Not even a piece of dust. Billy I’ve got a splinter in my hand. Alice You must walk. Billy I’ll be a man then? Alice Yes. Billy I’m afraid. I wish I hadnt broken my crayons. Alice You wont need to draw. You’ll have real things. Billy You’ve changed since the lady came. If I was little again and you found me in a box – would you pick me up? Alice No. It’s not the time. Billy I wish my mother was here. Alice Walk. If anyone talks to you dont stop. Walk and see everything. There’s so much for you to see. You’ll have such a good time. (Slight pause.) Remember the envelopes. Billy I’ll keep them under my pillow till the men come.

Fifth Picture The living room. Alice hangs in the open doorway to the bedroom. Billy sits at the table with his back to her. Screwed papers on the table and floor. He draws. Billy (screws up a drawing) Cant do the feet right. They’re the wrong way. (Draws.) Why dont the men come? He picks up the handwritten list. Reads it. Puts it back on the table. If I hadnt broken my crayons. Makes it hard. Wont break the new ones. (Draws.) The lady with the chair’s got your face. (Picks up two drawings. Compares them.) Only hers is a puddle. (Puts the drawings down. Draws.) P’raps she was your mother. Might’ve been.

He stops drawing. Stands. Goes towards the door. ’Scuse me please. He edges past the body. He touches it accidentally. It sways slightly. He goes into the other room. Pause. He comes back. Squeezes past the body. Doesn’t touch it. ’Scuse me please. He goes to the table. He turns a chair to face the window. He sits and stares at the window. He doesn’t go to it. I checked. Envelopes ’re under my pillow. Counted them. Two. Am I becoming a man? He stands. He goes to the body. Edges past it. Doesn’t touch it. ’Scuse me please. He goes into the other room. Pause. He comes back. He carries an overcoat and scarf. He squeezes past the body. The overcoat knocks against it – it twists slightly. Billy looks at it. Says nothing. He puts the overcoat and scarf on the table. Pause. (Half sing-song.) Why – why – why – why – why – He thinks. Then he moves the overcoat and scarf nearer the door to the staircase. Picks up a chair. Goes to the other door. He puts the chair by the body. He adjusts the chair’s position. He tilts the body on to the back of the chair so that it takes the weight. Uncomfortable watching you. (He sits on the chair facing away from the body.) It’s hard. Couldnt sleep last night. Door open. Billy leans forwards. His elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He sighs. He sits straight upright. His head is turned away from the body. He has fallen asleep. A hammering on the door. He sleeps.

Sixth Picture Billy stands in the morning light. He wears his overcoat and scarf. He carries a pale-coloured carton. His expression is rapt but blank. The sound of children playing in a school yard.

Billy stands at noon. The same expression. Industrial sounds over suburban roofs. Hollow bangs. Scaffolding. A hooter. A lorry backs. Billy stands in the afternoon. The same expression. A city river. Ship’s hooter. Cranes moving containers. Birds. Voices calling on the shore. Billy half turns. His free hand gestures towards the river. Billy stands at dusk. The same expression. He is hot. He has taken off his scarf and unbuttoned his overcoat. He looks down from a bridge. Monotonous pulsing traffic. Billy stands in the dark. City nightlife. Music. Parties. Pub choruses. Traffic. Yobs. Police siren. Billy stares. He makes his grating sound. He walks away. Emptiness. Billy in the car park. He stands in the middle. Floodlight in the darkness. Silence. He opens the top of the carton. Puts his hand inside. Unscrews the container lid. Looks inside the container – doesn’t take it out of the carton. Puts the lid in his overcoat pocket. Puts his hand in the container. Takes out a handful of dust. Stares at it expressionlessly. Drops it experimentally on the ground – running the last of it through his fingers. Takes out a handful of dust. Scatters it more widely. Watches it fall. Tilts the carton slightly. Cranes his neck sideways to peer in to see what’s left. Takes out a handful of dust. Throws it in the air over his head. Stares expressionlessly as it floats down. Puts the carton on the ground. Crouches. Digs both hands into the carton. Brings out two fistfuls of dust. Stands and at the same time hurls the dust high into the air. Voice (off, calls from edge of car park) Oi! What y’ on? Billy looks towards the voice. A shot. Billy falls dead next to the carton. The dust floats down on him.

Existence

Existence was first broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on 8 April 2002. The cast was as follows: x

Jason Flemyng

Tom

Andrew Wincott

Directed by Turan Ali Studio Manager Mark Smith The first staged production of Existence was at the Théâtre-Studio Alfortville, Paris, on 28 October 2002. The cast was as follows: x

Vincent Ozanon

Tom

Rémi Pous

Directed and designed by Christian Benedetti Lighting by Dominique Fortin Sound by David Jisse x, an ordinary young man Tom City, now.

City inner suburb. A room in a large Edwardian house converted to flats. Right, a door to communal stairwell. On the back wall a door right to bathroom, a door left to kitchen. A window between the two doors. It opens on to the street. It is covered by a black heavy utility curtain. When it is drawn the blank wall opposite is seen and at night neon light – it does not flash and the source is not seen. Simple solid furniture. A bed between the window and the bathroom. A bedside table. On it writing pads and blank paper and pencils in a jar. Against the left wall a wardrobe. At an angle between it and the kitchen a table covered with a cloth. On it a plate and cutlery from a finished meal. Two chairs at the table. A chair between the table and the bed. TV set. None of this is seen. Total darkness. Silence. The handle of the outside door is gently tried. It is locked. The handle is tried again. Silence. The sound of a metal bar inserted between the door and its frame. It is carefully levered. The wood cracks. Silence. The bar is levered again. The door judders. Gives. There is no light on the landing outside. Silence. The door is carefully pushed open a little. x squeezes in through the gap. Door grates. x (low. Flat. Self-admonitory) Hsss. x carefully closes the door behind him.

It grates. Silence. x taps along the wall by the door. Reaches the sideboard. Taps – opens top drawer. Rummages in the things. Half closes the drawer. Opens the drawer below. Rummages. Stops. Taps his way into the room. Tom sits motionless in the chair between bed and table. Crash. x stumbles over the chair. x violently attacks Tom. Tom tries to defend himself. x throws Tom against the wall. Silence except for breathing. Chair feet scrape. x suddenly lunges – thuds against Tom. Grapple. x throws Tom against the wall. Tom slides to floor – unconscious. x Where yer – ? Huh. (Gathers breath. Flat.) Get up. x crashes into a chair at the table. Chair spins and topples. x Bloody –. x kicks chair aside. x (groping) Up! Where’s the – ? Kick yer bloody ’ead t’ –

x kicks Tom four times. x Pulp. (Crouches over Tom.) You – are yer – ? (Controls himself.) Right. One peep – yer dead! ’Ear? Tom’s heavy regular breathing – unconscious. x ’S out. (Looks round.) Rope. Rope. Anythin. x stands. Gropes. Finds cloth on table. Rips strips. Gropes back to Tom. Stumbles over chair. x Bloody chair! x kicks chair away. It hits the table. x (tying Tom) Settle you. Little surprise when yer come round. Wont see it. Be gone. x stands. Searches. Opens sideboard doors and drawers. Scatters the things in them. Chaos. Tips over the chair. x That bloody soddin – ! Tom’s regular breathing falters – chokes. x (stops searching) You. Oi. Yer ’ear? x goes to the table. Rips cloth. Goes to Tom. x Open yer –. Get that in yer –. Open. Gob. Chew that. Keep yer –. You ’earin?

The cloth gag distorts Tom’s regular breathing. x searches in the scattered chaos. x Be somethin. Somewhere. x kicks a space clear. x Bloody drawers! Bloody chair! Tom’s breathing stops. x Oi. Yer come round. Yer ’ear. Yer ain kid me. x kicks Tom once. x On account. Lay there. Move yer dead. Torch. Where’s yer – ? Speak English? Torch. Point. Use yer ’ead. Silence. x Yer smoke? Matches? Keep matches in the – ? Silence. x Git up. Git on the – x gropes for chair. Finds it. Drags it to Tom. Slams it down upright. x Sit. x jerks Tom on to the chair. It topples over. x Bloody chair! Bloody soddin – ! x slams the chair upright. Jerks Tom on to it. x Git –. The. Up. x goes to table. Rips more cloth. Ties Tom in chair.

x Tie yer in the –. Sit. Keep yer –. Still. (Chair legs twist violently once.) Keep – ! (Finishes tying.) Money. Yer ’ear? Where yer keep yer – ? Point. Use yer ’ead. Silence. x slaps Tom. x Money! Silence. x Money! x slaps Tom. Silence. x On yer tod? Live on yer tod? x slaps Tom. x This yer pad? Silence. x Got a woman? Shag? Rings. Bits ’n pieces. Jewelry items. Small. Nothin big. x slaps Tom – the chair rocks. x Turn yer chair on its back. Jump on yer face. Yer say then. Ain wearin slippers. Over yer –. (Starts to push chair backwards. It creaks. Chair feet jerk.) – ’S goin –. Yer – Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x tips chair upright – front chair legs thump on floor. x Door? (Looks across.) That door? x crosses room. Opens door – no light inside. x goes into bathroom. x (tile echo) Bathroom? Money in bathroom? x comes back.

He kicks the chair out of his way. Chair clatters. x Money! Dont try t – ! Where? Where? Tie that tighter on the – feel that? (He jerks a strap.) Money! Boot yer face inside out! Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x That door? x goes to kitchen door. Opens it – no light inside. Looks through the doorway into kitchen. x That where yer cook? Kitchen? ’S a cupboard! x closes the door. x Three rooms? That it? Just the –. Silence. x You expectin? Waitin this time a’ night? Too late. No one come. Yer werent in bed. Sat in the dark. Why ain yer put the light on when yer ’eard me on the landin? Yer slep? Silence. x Yer got money. Everyone ’as. Make me look, smash what I dont take. Wont ’ave nothin left. Point. Silence. x gropes round the room. Finds vase on sideboard. x Vase. Ain in there. x smashes vase. x gropes round room. x Telly. Shite-box. (Kicks in screen.) Do yer a favour. Never nothin on. x gropes to table. x ’Ad dinner.

x picks up plate in two hands. x brings down plate on Tom’s head – smashes it. Bits drop to floor. Chair jerks. x Cut yer ’ead. Save washin up. Silence. x Ain leave without. Yer smart bastards. Go up t’ ’em in the street for the –. Dont listen, even look. They wont give yer the time, nick their watch. Yer think the noise – the vase ’n breakin – that wont bring ’em. Yell out the winder they wouldnt come. ’Ung yer out on a rope they wouldnt cut yer down – they empty yer pockets. This city, clown’d stuck ’n apple in yer gob. (Suddenly.) ’E’s sittin on it! Wallet! Sittin on yer – ! x jerks Tom up in the chair. x Turn yer – ! Soddin little – ! Git yer – git – x rips Tom’s side pockets – empty. x Up! Lift yer –. Chair feet whine. x searches Tom’s hip pockets – empty. Dumps Tom down in the chair. Silence. x Yer got somethin t’ keep yer quiet. Few quid, yer’d ’and it over git rid a’ –. Struck lucky. Begun t’ thought I broke in some derelict pad. Pathetic DSS git. Longer yer ain say, more yer tellin me. I carry a gun. Ain flash it – scare yer permanent speechless. Got a silencer. For occasions when –. Home-made it. Cardboard tube. Off a kiddies’ firework. Ram it on the end. x pats his pocket. x Pick ’em up cheap now. This city, never go out without it. Didnt bring it on purpose. Yer’n off chance. Saw the street door. Flats – tell, numbers painted up the entrance. Street door open. Invitation. People ain poor in this city. Do yer good t’ go without. Listen? Nip in. Up the stairs. Doors. Eeny meeny miney mo: you. Broke door. Metal bar. Nick it off the roadworks.

Must’ve ’eard ’em. Drill all day. Little did yer know: later. Yer listenin? Met someone on the street, could a mug ’em. Then I’d never bothered you. Tip ’em in the workman’s ’ole. Or give ’em a few quid. Depends. Got me own money. Not some nutter on the rampage like tormentin people. Ain bin drinkin. Few with the lads. Not serious. Said goodnight – shouted up the street. Walk ’ome. Miss last tube. Miss it on purpose. Dont do the tube at night. Winos. Drunks. Little yobs pretendin they rule the world only they know they dont. Harry Krishni pretendin ’e’s ’appy. Sick on the carriage floor. Animal wouldnt do it in its cage. Yer payin attention t’ me? Nod – I can see yer in the dark. Silence. x If yer was slep in bed yer’d never knew I bin till yer woke up ’n saw the door. In your shoes I’d ’and it over. Be off. Leave the door open – wont shut anyway. In the mornin someone on the communal stairs ’d look in – see yer gag ’n tied in the –. Y’ave t’ make a statement t’ the law. Couldnt give a good description. ’E never put the light on. Few days’ upset. All over. Finish. What yer save it for? Ex-wife ’n kiddies? Put ’em on the game. Mummy in the nursin ’ome? Tell ’er t’ get a move on ’n die. ’Oliday in the sun? HP? Trash. Garbage. (He kicks the debris.) Garbage. Garbage. x takes from his pocket a pistol and silencer – a thick cardboard tube. He rams it on the barrel. He goes to the window and carefully goes behind the curtain without opening it. Neon light falls to the ground round his feet. He looks down at the street. x Moon full. Sometimes yer see more at night. In the empty streets. (Turns back to room.) No maraudin coppers rushin t’ the rescue. Comes from behind the curtain – light goes from the floor. Goes to Tom. x Gag ’urt? Does now. x crams the gag tighter into Tom’s mouth. The chair feet squeak. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Stick it down any further yer drown in yer own gob. My choice, do it civilised. Yer wan’ it nasty.

x goes to kitchen – no light inside. Opens the door. Goes in. x (off) Wont take long this size. x destroys the kitchen. Totally. Crockery, glass smashed. Pans thrown. Sink hammered. Food scattered. Kitchen roll tugged – spins out. x comes back into the room. x Know what? One cup. Bloody cup. Left on the end a’ the soddin rack. Sod me. x goes back to the kitchen. Short silence. x throws the cup against the wall. Shatter. Silence. x comes back into the room. x Yer disgust me. Stupid thick –. All that damage. If yer said – I’d a’ bin took it ’n gone. I’ll rip yer face off like a rubber mask ’n smear it on that winder so yer spent the rest a’ yer life lookin at the – (Sudden scream like a fast wail.) x dives aside to the floor. Fires twice. x What the – ? O god ’e dont – x fires third shot. x ’E dont drop! ’E’s floatin in the air! Silence.

x stands. Crosses through the debris to the wall by the wardrobe. A suit hangs from the rail on a coat hanger. x (awed) Yer suit. On the wall. Suit. ’Angin on a ’anger. I shot yer suit. ’Angin on the rail. Silence. x jerks the suit from the wall. Flails it on the table. Hanger clatters. x I shot a suit! Three times! Shot a – ! (Crushes the suit in his hands.) Stinks a’ you! (He throws the suit away.) Get off! – Shall I trash this room now? Silence. x This dump. Stay ’ere I’ll top yer. Do life for a corpse! Little runt not swingin that on me. I’m off. Stay there tied till they find yer. Tap yer feet t’ celebrate. x kicks the debris aside. Opens the outside door – it rasps. There is no light outside. Off, x’s footsteps clattering down the stone stairs. Silence. Rasp. Harsh. The broken door pulled to. x has come back into the room. x Got halfway down. Rasps – x shuts the door with a final jerk. x Make a monkey a’ me. x pushes the sideboard against the door – feet squeal. Piles chairs, drawers, broken TV on top of sideboard. x leans against barrier – rams it tighter with his back.

x Barricaded in. Ain go twice. Till yer pay double. Silence. x They abandoned yer. Shot three times. No one come. Not even turn over in bed. Get what I come back for now. Not money. Somethin personal. Everyone’s got somethin. Must ’ave. Logic. Somethin yer’ll miss. What the dead or some tart give yer. Souvenir t’ keep for –. No replacement. Could be anythin. In this room. Know it when I see it. Everyone would. It’s different things but they’re always the same. Dont try t’ kid me with some – laugh yer ’ead off t’morra yer kid me with crap yer ’ld give the dustman. I’ll ’ad time t’ study it. ’Old it in me ’and. I’d know. I’d come back. Yer listen now, I can ’ear: yer dont like it. When it’s mine – know what I intend? – drop it in a drain. ’Ole in the gutter. Yer wont get it back. I’ll never think of it. Never be bothered. Yer’ll regret it every day a’ yer life left t’ live. Ashamed yer couldnt nurse it. I’ll tattoo it inside yer. Not red ’n blue like yobs ’ave. Black. All the way through yer. Like letters in rock. Silence. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Chat’s too late. Nothin yer say’s worth ’earin. I took yer gag out, yer’d just offer me money. Pass that. Thass gone. I choose what I want. It’s in this room. Point. Use yer ’ead. Know it when I see it. Silence. x Why was yer sat in the dark when I – ? Yer ’eard the door crack. Must ’ave. What yer do ’ere? What goes on? When I shot the suit – the second shot – I saw a face on it – I swear – white face on the –. x crosses to the window. Goes behind curtain. Neon light falls to the ground round his feet. He looks down at the street. x Street still empty. Too early for –. If I did the tube. Took another turnin. Wouldnt be ’ere. Stuck with you. Wanderin round this scrap’eap. (Whistles two notes, flat.) We could go for a walk. Better at night. Empty streets. Yer couldnt say if someone pass. Couldnt give a sign yer was ’eld under duress. Me gun in yer side. No time. Late. Get light. Stay in.

Silence. x We’re Siamese twins. Never met. They must wake up every mornin ’n find they’re –. (Violently.) Tell me what it is I want! x picks up the suit jacket. Goes to Tom. x No dont turn yer – ! Yer suit! Look! The ’ole I shot in the – thass yer gut – where yer gut ’d be –. That ’ole could be in yer –. My fingers pokin through the – larger when – (Rips cloth.) – larger when it’s flesh ’n – yer guts! Look my ’and’s come through – wrigglin in yer guts – when yer dead! Yer sat ’ere in the dark – yer not prepare when someone come – anyone – t’ ask – for what? Yer bit a’ scrap – yer bit a’ tin! Yer cling t’ that as if yer life was on it! I seen yer in coroner’s pictures – tied up ’n gag! Clutchin yer empty ’ands! Give it t’ me ’n let me go! I do yer a service! It’s already ruined! Under this mess! – ’Ow can I make yer understand? – yer sort – the confusion – the mess yer live in – Silence. x I’m sorry. I scared yer. Listen. Yer understand what I said? It’s simple. Easy. Nod. Nod. Yer understand what I want? A piece a yer life – Silence. x I’ll take yer gag out. Silence. x Dont try t’ shout. No one’ll –. Say what I want. Tell me. I’ll go. Finish. Over. x starts to remove Tom’s gag. x Keep –. I’ll take it out for – Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Twist ’n turn! Still! Gag out. x tosses it to the ground. Silence. x Tell me. Quick.

Silence. x ( flat. Terror) There’s nothin’ is there? O god there’s –. Nothin. Nothin. Everyone ’as t’ ave –. ’As t’! Not nothin! O god pity ’im – or be angry at the – ? ’Oo are yer? What are yer doin ’ere? What ’appens in this room? What’s it for? It’s ’ell! Silence. x Gag ’urt yer mouth. Cant speak. Wound. When I took it out – rough – I should –. x goes into the kitchen. x (off) Drink the –. I’ll get – (Kicks debris – searching.) Cup. Cup. Cup. Broke all the –. (Finds broken cup.) This. Tap on. Water splashes on floor. Tap off. x comes back into the room. x Careful. Edge. Broke. x slops water into Tom’s mouth. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x drops cup. Breaks. Water spills. x (screams) ’E’s dumb! x runs away from Tom. Knocks the table. Table feet grind in debris. x (screams) ’E’s dumb! Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x (screams across the room) Liar! No! Open – ! Open! Show yer – x comes back to Tom. x Open! Open! Put my ’and in yer –. Down in the – !

x puts his hand in Tom’s mouth. x ( flat whimper) Stump. Feel it. Back a’ the –. Stump where the –. No tongue. Silence. x … Why did I – where is – ? Sat in the dark. Came in. Shot the suit. When I gagged ’is – put the rag in the – I knew it was strange. Not right. An empty –. I went down the stairs – t’ get away from it – Silence. x Kill me. Silence. x Kill me. Silence. x Kill me. Gun loaded. Take it. Easy. Simple. Just pull the –. Yer seen it on the –. Silence. x I dont ’ave t’ leave the room. Not even leave –. Walk through the mess. When it’s light the broken – all the broken –. Dont want t’ go down t’ the street –. Dont make me stay. Silence. x Easy ’ere. This room I dont know. Nothin t’ leave ’ere – miss – remember in me ’ead while I die. This is as good as dead. Kill me. Silence. x ’Ow did yer lose it? Born with no – so yer never –. Or doctors. See huts in the mud. On photos. Lined up like pieces a’ dominoes – never touched. No ’and in that world. Mud or dust. Or accident. Bit it out while – came round it’s in yer mouth. Yer spit it out. Silence. x ’Ave t’ be very angry t’ bite it out in a rage. Yer ’ole mouth’s a wound. Silence.

x Yer see everythin in black ’n white. Yer’ll do what I ask. Ah. Tied up. Cant ’old the gun. I’ll undo one ’and. T’ point ’n –. Which ’and are yer, left or right? This one: it’s worn. x unties Tom’s hand. He gives him the gun. It drops to the floor. x Drop it. Take care. Accidental discharge. ’And’s numb. Move the fingers. Let me – x rubs Tom’s hand. x Cold. I scare yer. There’s the ’ole the knot dug in yer wrist. Take it. (He gives Tom the gun.) Good. Steady ’and. No shake. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x No. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x No. Nothin. Nothin. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x (realising) What? – where the – ? (Sees bedside table.) Jar a’ pencils. Pencils in a –. O. Yer write down –. Pads. No. Nothin t’ say. Bits ’n pieces. Names. They confuse the –. We’re strangers. Know everythin about each other. All there is. In a minute there’ll be nothin. All gone. Why scribble when it only lasts a minute? Silence. x (empty snigger) Must be nice for the dentist. Silence. x Does it tickle? When the stump wiggles up ’n –. Mouth full a’ laughter all the time. Cant let it out. Lick yer lips. Yer must know many ways a’ talkin. Expressive facial –. A torch goin on ’n off all the time in the dark in broad daylight. Japanese ain in it. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh.

x No. Yer wont be in trouble. My gun. Broke in. Scrap. Gun went off. Got ’is just whatsits? Rid society of ’n enemy. ’Ve got form. Law know me. Nothin serious. ’Obby. ’Nough t’ put yer in the clear. ’Appen every day. Petty crook shot with ’is own weapon. Do it now. Yer make me wait, I start t’ –. Think. Blame. Soddin. Dont want t’ git upset – let it git t’ me ’n – the waste – why dont they – no one – yer see, yer see it gets t’ me – the soddin – look at all the – could a’ bin, could a’ bin – spread out like another –. (Picks up the fragment.) This bit a’ cup. (Drops it.) ’Ow can I leave this room? I dont belong ’ere now. Every time I’m on a bus – or in a – I’d know I’d bin ’ere – take out the gun or throw myself off the –. Cant live like that. Let me go while I’m quiet – sure. Y’ave to. Got no choice. ’Less yer shoot yerself. People dont, not for that. An’ why? No one believe yer shot yerself. ’S me. Yer dead, me down for life. – Give me the gun. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Give me – ! x struggles with Tom. Gets pistol. x Dont need the silencer. Rid a’ the – ! x throws the silencer across the room: cardboard rattle. x goes to the window and behind the curtain. Opens window. Soft sounds of the city at night. x Town lit up. x fires a shot over the roofs. x (shouts) Yghah-hargh-hergh-hargh. (Waits. Turns into the room. Lifts curtain. Flash of neon light.) Nothin. No one cries. No one comes. (Turns back to street.) Woooooooooo! That wall! x fires a second shot. Off, the thin ricochet off the wall. x No one! (Turns back to room. Quiet.) Man. Winder opposite. One ’ouse down. Sat with a book. Could shoot the light out over ’is ’ead. ’E wouldnt look up. – Cant. One bullet left.

x closes the window. Turns back to room. Leaves the curtain slightly open – a thin shaft of neon light falls across the room. x I shot the city. x comes back to Tom. x I know what yer say. Heragh. Heragh. Heragh. Yer think I shot the ’ouse t’ start ’n alarm. I knew no one’d come. Take the gun. Yer’ll do it soon now. In a minute. It’ll ’appen. Natural. Things do when they start. Silence. x Yer scared what’s after. Sit there till it’s light. My blood runnin out on the floor. Rat race in yer ’ead. Wont stop when it’s light. Stuck there – yer watched too long. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Rat in a maze. Treadin down the earth in yer ’ead. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Cant. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Heragh-hraghaghahg-hruhhgh-hragh. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh. x Haragh-heraghaahgahagugh. Hahyargh. Hahyrrarrgh. Heraghghghughuah. Heragh. Hhagh. Hgaghgh. Hagh. (Pause.) Hgrrha erya. Silence. x Twist – turn yer –. Heragh. Heragh. x turns Tom’s chair a little. Chair feet scrape. x Light on the floor. Left the curtain open. Street light. Wont move. If it was off the moon it’d cross the floor while the night went. Fade out when it’s day. Go.

Silence. x I wanted yer t’ shoot me when yer was tied in the chair. If yer was free yer’d ’ave more control when yer –. Better untie yer. Be best. Take the gun. x unties Tom. x After, dont wait. Go. Say it’s for ’elp. They take me – remove the – trolley – it’s gone when yer come back. Yer never seen me after. Stand. Tom stands. x Dont fall! Chair feet scrape. Tom half falls against x. x Off me! Get – ! (Calmer.) Control. Steady. ’Old the gun. Still. Good. Steady ’and. Stand close. No slip. Now. Silence. x Dark. Scare yer miss. x crosses the room. x Do the curtain. Wide. x opens curtain. The shaft of neon light on the floor widens to a square. Faint reflection just catches the edge of things in room. Tom dashes to bedside table. Tom grabs paper and pencils. Disappears behind bed. x turns back to room. x Light. Better now. See me t’ –. (Stops. Shocked.) Where’s ’e – ? ’E’s gone! Gone! Where’s ’e – ? (Calls.) Bastard! Bastard! – ’Ow’s he do – got away – ? (Sees Tom. Flat. Shock.) ’Im. Crouchin on the – ! (Realises. Flat.) Writin. ’E’s writin. (Violent.) Gimmee! Gimmee! No! Dont put it – ! Dont put it – ! Writin! x grabs the paper from Tom. Rips it.

x Pencils! x hurls the jar of pencils – it breaks – pencils rattle like a wooden machine gun. x Paper! Paper! x searches – tears papers. x Which one? Which one ’ave yer – ? Which one yer scribble – ? (Tears pads.) Wont! Wont! Put down for them t’ read! Tom has climbed on the bed – his back to x. x My God ’e’s diggin through the wall – climbin through the – ! (Flat.) ’E’s writin on the wall. Words. Scrawlin words. On the wall. x goes to Tom. x drags him down from the wall. Unreadable marks on it. x Get off the – ! Leave it! x throws Tom aside. x tears and batters at the wall. x Pull the wall down! Bury the – ! Bury the words! Bury the – ! Kill me! Kill me! Let me go. Silence. x Where yer put the gun? (Sees it.) On the table. Where I can –. What an innocent little man you are. Angry now. Dont feel it but I am. I ’ad yer tongue in me pocket I’d take it out ’n strangle yer ’n drag yer on it through the street. Yer’re alone in the world for me. Yer dont ’elp. I ask ’n yer dont give. Thass not ’ow we should live. I ’ad two bullets I’d kill yer. Silence. x Cant kill meself. Not scared. Wrong t’ you t’ make yer see me do –. Best if yer –. Easier t’ kill. Yer’d see me put the gun t’ me ’ead. Pull it. Thass normal. But then yer’d see me face. The loneliness. While I waited for the bullet t’ pass through me ’ead. Yer’d be so glad when the pain came. Juss pain. Laugh. Laugh. Glad. When it wiped off what was on me face before –.

I spare yer that. Glad. It’s easier for yer like this. I’m ’appy for yer. What else? – turn yer face t’ the wall while I do it? Go out the room without turnin round? Die like kids playin games. We should die in a better way. Silence. x I’ll do what I can. x crosses through the debris to table. Picks up pistol. Goes to Tom. x We’ll share it. x puts the pistol in Tom’s hand. Guides Tom’s hand with his hands. x Put yer ’and round the gun. Mine on yours. Lift the nozzle t’ me ’ead. Point. Bit more t’ the –. ’S all right. I’m alone now. Put yer finger on the trigger. (Guides Tom’s finger.) In. Curl yer – yeh. I’ll count yer breath. Yer dont even ’ave t’ choose when yer –. Tom breathes. x One. Tom breathes. x Two. Tom breathes. Silence except for Tom’s breathing … five … seven … x Aches. Finger. World’s stood on it. ’Ouse. ’Oldin yer finger on the trigger. Cant let it drop out the –. Aches. Cant do it for yer. You ’ave. Ache. Ache. Praps I’m bone now. The bone aches. Did yer pull the – ? Is the bullet passin through my ’ead? Kill me again. T’ make it sure. Silence. x (sighs) Still alive. Last ’elp I can –. Walk t’ the – t’ –. x walks a step. Stumbles in the debris.

Topples. Crawls on hands and knees. x ’Ands ’n knees – crawl t’ the light on the – on the – x falls on to his side. x Drag meself t’ the – will – x drags himself through the debris. Stops. Gathers his breath. x Get t’ the – x reaches the square of light on the floor. Pats the floor once. x See me now. Light. Clear. Square with no corners. If I could stand. (Tries.) Last ’elp. (He falls.) No. Sit still. Put me finger on me ’eart. (Touches spot with finger.) Where? – where? There. Feel it under the –. Shoot. Where I point. Shall I look away? x looks away. x There’s – Tom shoots x once. x’s body flops over. Silence. Tom Yghah-hrahuh-hergh.

Note on radio version The radio version began with this introduction: Large London pub interior. Weekend. Late night. Chaos of voices and live band. Mass singing heaves like waves over the general noise. Words unheard. Fade. Street outside the pub. Busy late-night traffic on main street leading out of the city. Pub doors crash as drinkers leave. A very distant siren. Distorted hubbub of drinkers’ voices. Voices Hrgegh! Huhhrrahh! Hrraagh! The voices fade. x (close to, calling back to the voices) Wooooooo! Voices (answering) Hagghh! Woo! x (shouting back) Woooo! A lorry roars past – x’s feet scampering to avoid it. x (yells at lorry) Yah! Bloody – ! Fade. Long empty street. Silence except for x’s footsteps. He starts to whistle – tuneless, not doleful – self-comforting. x stops abruptly. A little silence. A few steps. x pushes on a street door. It opens smoothly.

The Under Room For David Davis

The Under Room was first staged by Big Brum at Roade School, Northampton, on 12 October 2005. The cast was as follows: Joan

Joanne Underwood

Dummy Actor

Adam Bethlenfalvy

Jack

Ian Holmes

Directed by Chris Cooper Designed by Ceri Townsend Stage Manager Emma Cutler City suburb, 2077. A bare cellar. A wooden chair with arms. On the floor a lidded tin box. It is some 18 inches by 14 inches and 16 inches high. To the (audience) right a flight of stairs. The treads are some four feet long and broad enough to be sat on. At the top of the stairs a door. The Dummy Actor speaks the Dummy’s words. Usually he stands upstage left. He wears blue jeans, brown suede shoes and a bright, deep-red shirt buttoned at collar and cuffs. The Dummy is a basic human effigy: trunk, arms, legs, head. It has no other features. It suggests stuffed white pillowslips or bolsters. It is about half the size of the Dummy Actor.

One The Dummy Actor stands up left. The box lid is shut. Joan comes down the steps. She pushes the Dummy before her. She speaks to it and not to the Dummy Actor. Joan Wait here. (She puts the Dummy in the chair.) Dummy I was not stealing. Joan You expect me to believe that? Dummy Yes. Joan Then why did you break into my flat? Dummy If I had come to steal I would not have let you stop me. I am stronger than you. Joan Sit there. Dummy You are going to fetch the soldiers? Joan You cant get out. There’s only one door. It’s too strong to break. Dummy I have told you I was not stealing. Joan You were upstairs in my room. You had broken a window. Undone the catch and climbed in. Dummy Yes. Joan And you did not intend to steal? Dummy I told you. Joan You were a burglar who broke in to give me money. Dummy If you like. The Dummy Actor takes out banknotes. He holds them in front of him. He does not try to give them to Joan. She looks at the Dummy, not the Dummy Actor. Joan You stole it from someone else.

Dummy Not from someone. Joan But you stole it? (No answer. She goes towards the stairs.) I shall call the soldiers. Dummy Please. I climb through your window because soldiers came in street. Joan There were none when I came home. Dummy Then they had gone. Joan If you hide from the soldiers you were up to no good. Dummy I can give you more money. Dummy Actor holds out more money. Joan Your money is stolen. If I took it I would be involved in your crimes. Joan begins to go up the stairs. Dummy (calls) I have been involved in shoplifting. Joan hesitates. She comes back to the cellar. Joan You said shoplifting. Dummy If the soldiers stopped me in the street they would take me away. I have no papers. That is why I broke your window. It was the nearest window. I give you money to buy a new window. You may keep the rest if you wish. Joan Why did you say shoplifting? Dummy It is the truth. Joan It isnt called shoplifting any more. That’s what our parents called it. It’s shoplooting. Dummy Yes. I know. I forgot. Looting. Joan You were not born here? Dummy When the soldiers took me away they would see me on CCTV from the shops. They would check because I have no papers. Joan You broke into my flat to steal. I came back before you had time.

Dummy You do not believe me. If I knew the soldiers had left the street I would have left your house. I meant to pay for the broken window. Joan You expect me to believe that? Dummy I do not want to prove you wrong. It is not polite. I put the money on the shelf over the fireplace. Joan starts to go up the stairs. Dummy (calling after her) It is under the little blue pot. It is a nice pot. Joan goes out. The Dummy Actor puts the money in his pocket. After a few moments she returns and comes down the stairs. Dummy I hope it is enough money. You do not have to repair all the windows. I would have written a note to say I am sorry. I could not find a pencil. Joan You have a weapon? Dummy A knife. Joan Not a gun? Dummy I do not even like to have a knife. I will show it to you. The Dummy Actor takes a knife from his pocket. He holds it before him. He cleans it obsessively but not rapidly with a cloth. Dummy I would not have hurt you with the knife. I let you bring me down to this under room. Knife would be used only to stop you going to soldiers. Joan You had better give it to me. Dummy I cannot do that. The Dummy Actor puts the knife in his pocket. Dummy The knife is my papers. You must have weapon when you live on street and have no papers. I am a good shoplooter. That is why I have money. Many shoplooters wear dull clothes. They do not attract the eye of store detectives. So they think. If they have to run-like-streak-lightning-gethell-out-here-bloody-quick they are not seen so easy in the street. I do not have to run. I wear bright clothes. Then no one suspect me. My disguise make me vanish. My grandmother say you cannot see the bit of dust in your

eye. Maybe camera see me steal. Then it is too late. I have gone. I steal my clothes from shop. I steal everything of me. Outside and inside. The knife was given me. It is a gift. Joan It’s a cellar. Dummy Pardon me? Joan It’s called a cellar. Not under room. Dummy O. I have learnt a new word. My visit to your house is not wasted. Thank you. Some words I forget. I shall remember this word for sure. Cellar. But I have nothing to sell. I steal. I am bad. Joan How long have you been here? The Dummy Actor looks at his watch. Dummy Fifty-six minutes. Joan In this country. Dummy It is better I dont say that. It is better to know nothing. Then when you are asked it is easier to be silent. Joan You cant go back to …? Dummy My country. One may always go back. For sure they welcome me. I am bright boy. First I have to say sorry. Then I do what they want. They give me good papers. Maybe later they send me back here. I know the language. (I must learn a few more words.) Cel-lar. They give me nice job. Maybe chauffeur. Chauffeur make good spy. I get to drive nice car. But I do not want what they want. I am better on run looting your shops. When I have more money I buy papers. Next I pay for guide to take me on underground route to North. There it is safe. It is a racket of course. Run by gangs. It is expensive. If you try to cross on your own they shoot you. In the North life is more easy. They do not shoot you for shoplifting. They could not shoot you for shoplifting here. It was not nice. They change the name. They shoot you for shoplooting. That is nice. People like it. Not only shopkeepers. Joan You had better stay here for the night. Dummy No.

Joan Till the soldiers have gone. They may still be in the area. If you go now they’ll pick you up. Dummy I do not want to give you some trouble. I pay for broken window and go. First I ask you to check no soldiers outside. That would be kind. Joan If I was questioned I’d say I didnt know you were in the cellar. I didnt know you had broken in. Dummy You are nice but innocent. They would ask you why you didnt notice your window was broken. Joan The soldiers were searching for you? Dummy No. I am nothing. Not big shot. I am little shot. Sometimes little shot count for more. It is more perfect when even little shots are not safe. Then no one get away. There is no hope. So I am careful. – I will go. I break your window. I do not want – as you say – to pull your house down round your ears. Joan You are an illegal immigrant. You loot shops. If the soldiers catch you you will be shot. I do not want you to walk out of my house into that. Dummy You are a stupid lady. Pardon that is not polite. But it is true. Do not bother with me. I am nothing. I make myself nothing. It is better. Since a long time I am not real. I listen to myself and I say who is that who is speaking those stupid things? You are a good person. You do not cause trouble for the authorities. When I climb through your window I say ‘O – a respectable person lives here.’ A good hideout for a crook. The soldiers do not look in such a place. I was sorry I broke window in such a nice room. I go. You want to be a heroine? My grandmother say God dont give medals. You do not know what trouble is. Trouble is complicated. Joan I will not let you walk out into the street to be shot. Pause. Dummy If you wish it so. When you came in your shopping bag was full. I have not eaten today. If I am to stay perhaps you would share the food with me. It would be nice.

Two

The Dummy is in the chair. The box is under the chair. The lid is shut. Joan comes down the stairs. She enters the cellar. Joan He’s late. Something so important. I dont understand. I’ve been watching from the window. Dummy He will not come at the time he said. It could become known. Then it might be a trap. Joan I think he just wants to appear important. What does he look like? Dummy Anyone. Joan We mustnt tell him the rest of the money’s here. We’ll say I’ll fetch it when he brings your papers. Dummy Money of this sort is not kept in banks. Joan How long will it take him to arrange? Dummy It will be soon. They will choose to be busy. Joan It will be strange. Dummy You will miss your man in the cellar? Joan You will vanish. I shant know if you’re safe. If you’ve arrived somewhere. You cant even send a sign. It’s too risky. Nothing will change here. Dummy I will be amputated from your life. It is better that way. You have been foolish to hide me in your cellar. You will go back to your normal life. You will be safe. You will have the comfort of what is normal. Joan When you’re safe you’ll make a normal life for yourself. Dummy No. You live in the before. I live in the after. Nothing is comfortable there. Or normal. Joan After what? Pause. Dummy I killed. There is a before and after. Before – the army gang came to our houses. They came out of the morning mist. Even that. They took the women behind the houses. They do not want the grown men to live. There are many shootings and shouts. I am thirteen. Some boys were younger.

They led my father and mother against the wall of our yard. What they explain is quick and simple. They say it many times already. They put knife in my hand. They say kill one. Choose – so other live. My parents look at me. Not at each other. I wish them to look at each other. To make choice for me. They didnt think of it. It is too quick. I say not knife. Give me gun to shoot. Soldier say knife. It is better so for you. Harder is better training. Make you soldier quicker. I say you choose. Soldier say you soldier now. Soldier choose target. I say let me look away. Soldier say soldier look at target. My father is a good man. He say ‘Kill me.’ Then my mother make a sound. It is like a stone breaking in her throat. She tries to say it too: ‘Me.’ She loves me. Joan Which one did you …? Dummy If you ask question I cannot go on. I see something so clear. It is as if letters are printed on the ground. As if the ground is a big book. To the horizon. I am standing on the page. At one part the words read: ‘My mother say “me” because she choose not to live in world where her son is killer.’ Another part I read it says: ‘The father say “me” so he does not have to see son stand by his dead mother.’ Then I see our dead dog lying on the page. There the words say the blood of the dog runs away like a river because it does not want to be with people any more. It is black blood. Printer’s ink. There is no time to read the many other things. The soldier checks watch. The world ticks like a bomb in my head. It is still before so I thought: kill the soldier – kill me. Like in game you play trick. Cheat. The writing on the ground – I see it clear – it lay there and said no. It would be worse. Soldiers would turn it into their joking. I wish to turn page – to see if on the other side is written. I cannot turn the world. So I did it. It was easy. I am surprised. When you cook meat you put knife in to see how the cooking is. Yes? It is like that. I thought the skin would not want to give. It would push back like a stone – twist my hand – throw knife out of it. No. There is the knife. In. I start to pull it out. Soldier grab my wrist. He holds the knife in. The knife throb because the heart is beating. You see? It is like the body sobbing inside. Or perhaps the knife is sobbing. It blushes red as if ashamed. It is the blood. I do not feel I am killing. I feel nothing – then why am I crying? It is not tears on my cheeks. It has been splashed – I am crying my parent’s blood. I bite the soldier’s hand. He let go. Pats my head. He is speaking. Words as if the sky was stone and breaking. Soldier say: ‘My

soldier now – good life with comrades.’ The knife has drop. I bend to take it from the ground. When I am straightening I see my other parent dead. A soldier kill that one too. When does he do this? When I am holding the knife in the – ? Or when I read the words on the ground? This is after. Since then I have never seen such words. But there is something I do not remember. It is in my head but I do not remember it. Doorbell rings. The Dummy Actor takes out the cloth he wiped the knife on. He wipes his hands and forehead. He puts the cloth away. Joan I’m so sorry. Which one did you choose to …? Dummy I wont tell you that. I am allowed my shame. Without that there is nothing. Love can betray. Shame – you say it – is faithful to the death. Joan It would help you to tell me. Dummy I will tell you something more interesting. It will help you as you go about your day’s affairs. I was glad the other parent was also dead. No one is left to know what I have done. No one that is mattering to me. The others there would not notice where murder was so busy. I became nothing. Next – it is long after – I have a sudden pain. In my mouth. And here. (The Dummy Actor does not indicate.) It is the first laugh of my after. It comes up like a stone. I vomit my laughter. I laugh because my other parent dead too. Doorbell rings. Dummy He does not like to be seen standing on doorstep. (Joan goes to the stairs.) Wait. I will finish my story. (Joan stops.) Seven years I am soldier. It is like dominoes. Not letters on the ground. Dots. Those are the ones I kill. They are dominoes in my head. Joan I think I understand. I have nightmares about the changes. The new laws. Soldiers instead of police. Dummy O really? That is nice. You had better go to the door. Joan I want to hold you. Dummy No no. That is not necessary. He will go away. Joan mounts the stairs. The doorbell rings. She goes out. She returns and comes down the stairs. Jack follows her. Halfway down Joan stops. Turns

to Jack. Joan I should warn you. He’s upset today because he’s leaving. He’s been telling me about his past. Jack Right. Joan He’s very level-headed. You’ll find he’ll do exactly what you tell him on the crossing to the North. Jack Yer done this before? – this thing. Joan O no. There’s only been him. Jack ’Ow’d that come about. Joan He broke in while I –. (Stops.) It’s better to know nothing isnt it. Then if we’re questioned we cant say anything. Jack (shrugs with one shoulder) Wondered. We was in contact before ’e come ’ere. Then the trail went dead. Joan and Jack go into the cellar. Joan This is … Joan stops. Stares at Jack as he rapidly checks out the room for devices. Jack No other in ’n out? (Joan is nonplussed.) Man’oles? Concealed exits? Joan Only these stairs. Jack (to Dummy) Yer vanish. Though yer give me the slip. Dummy Yes. I was lucky. Jack You were. Jack takes out a camera. He photographs the Dummy’s head from the front and sides. Joan How long will it take? Jack Lap a’ the gods. Joan Will flash photos do? Jack Filter adjusts light. (Snaps Joan.) One a’ the lady for ’im t’ take down memory lane. ’Ow about the two t’gether?

Dummy We dont want that. Jack What yer got under yer chair? Dummy Personal things. Joan gives Jack a small sealed envelope. Joan His physical description. Jack (to Dummy) Thought yer ’ad a bomb. (He opens the envelope. Takes a small list from it. Glances at it. Puts it back in the envelope and into his pocket.) Yer’ll get a new self. Match up with yer mugshot. Photo of wife ’n kid. Did yer know yer ’ad mumps as a kid? Yer give up smokin. No nicotine fingers. Wristwatch bought local. All new kit. The couriers dont go for technicolour. Joan I’m proud there are still people like you who take this risk. Jack I do it for the money. Makes me reliable. Jack makes a mock-impatient hand gesture. Joan gives him a larger envelope. Joan You may check it. Jack No need. I’ll come back if it’s short. (Warning to the Dummy.) You – ready at a moment’s notice. They dont give advance warnins. Joan and Jack go out up the stairs.

Three The Dummy is in the chair. The metal box has been moved. It lies on its side on the floor. The lid is open. It is empty. Joan I still cant believe it? … Are you sure? (No answer.) You might have put it somewhere else. It’s easy to do when you’re under pressure. Dummy I have nowhere else to put things. Joan Please not self-pity. Dummy ( factually) There is nowhere. Joan I’m sorry. I shouldnt have said that. – What will happen?

Dummy We shall see. Joan We cant just wait. You’re sure it was there? I’m sorry – I have to ask. There’s no sign of breaking in. Nothing taken from upstairs. Dummy I shall go. Joan Where? The street. I shant let you go. But we cant just wait. No one else has been here? You’ve had no visitors while I am at work? You heard nothing in the night. Dummy I have comfort here. I am lax. I tell stories from the past. I forget what is now. Joan It’s my fault. I should’ve hidden the money outside the house. Where? I cant involve friends. I would have to tell them too much. Doorbell rings. I dont understand the world. These things have been going on round me all these years and I didnt see them. The streets arent real any more. I’m helpless. I feel like an immigrant. Dummy Answer it. Joan O it doesnt matter. I’m not expecting anyone. I cant talk to anyone. – You’ve told me everything havent you? Trust me. I wouldnt blame you for anything. Dummy It will be him. Joan (uncomprehending) Who? Dummy I think so. Joan (realising) But why? Stupid question. It’s all we need! If you’ve got one problem you’re bound to get more. (Goes to stairs. Stops. Reassuringly.) I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand. Dont worry. Whatever happens I’m here to help. She goes out up the stairs. After a few moments Jack comes down them. Joan follows him. Joan Wait. I have to speak to you. Jack (stops on stairs) Trouble?

Joan I’m afraid so. Jack I see. Yer goin t’ muck me about. Joan (not understanding) I beg your pardon. Jack Can we cut the shite? Yer wouldnt do it convincin. Joan I dont understand. Jack I put me life on the line for ’im ’n you. They catch ’im ’e ’as it easy. They shoot ’im. They cut me up ’n feed me t’ their Alsatians. Joan You think I knew? He deceived both of us. Jack Deceived? Joan He said he had all the money. He only had the money I gave you. He told me he made money shoplooting. You dont make that much shoplooting. I should’ve asked to see it. He’s so plausible. People like him dont live in the real world. He persuaded himself he had the money. Or it would turn up. I know that sounds unbelievable. If you knew what happened to him when he was a child – you’d believe him. Jack Yer ain even original. Joan I promise you it’s the truth. He sees writing on the ground. Jack Yer promised me dosh. Joan O god why do there have to be people like you! I’m sorry. I didnt mean it. You try to help. Even if it is for money. You take risks. The people you have to deal with must destroy your faith in human decency. Jack ’E in there? Joan You cant talk to him till I know what will happen. There never was any money. He didnt deceive you. He deceived himself. Think how terrible that is for him! We must get him to a place where he can understand himself. Lead a good life. Jack D’yer know ’ow many I ’ave t’ bribe t’ get ’im ’is piece a’ paper? Ain just crooks. I bribe the law. That comes expensive. They say the next man up the chain wants more! They dont double-cross. They double-doublecross. Dosh! – that’s the only reality – ’n arf the time that’s forged.

Joan When he gets over the border he’ll work and send you money. Jack Ha! – the times I ’eard that! Once they’re over – I dont exist for ’em! I tell yer somethin lady – if ’e gets over – which ain likely – ’e wont get a job. ’E’ll go on lootin. Once yer got the ’abit yer cant break it. ’E cant send much dosh from prison. Joan He groans in his sleep. Jack ’E’s lucky. I ’elp people ’oo cant groan when they’re awake! They ’ad their tongue cut out. ’N their limbs saw off. It’s a merry ol’ world ain it! The pain dont stop when the torturers stop. They torture themselves – their wounds do it for ’em! Joan What d’you intend to do? Jack I got ’is pass with the dosh yer give me. Now I ’ave t’ settle with the couriers. They dont do it for nothin. They ’ave t’ buy off the border guards. I ain walkin round with ’is pass in me pocket. Might as well smoke a stick a’ dynamite. ’E finds the cash by this evening or ’is pass is ashes. Joan I cant give you that amount of money. I dont own my flat. I rent. I have a few pieces of family jewellery. Nothing of value. Jack I ain a pawnbroker. Joan My savings at the bank wouldnt – Jack Chriss! – ’ow’d I get involved with these bleeding ’eart amateurs! Yer fancy man – Joan He is not my – Jack Yer toy boy – Joan How much d’you want? Jack Fifty thousand eurodollars. Joan You frighten me. Jack Yer can beg borra ’n steal like everyone else. Joan I cant. I dont understand such things. Jack Yer lecture me about sufferin. I ain understand what a nasty time ’e’s bin through! I’ll tell yer something for nothin: I dont like talkin t’ you. Yer

make me sound like a cheap crook ’n not a respectable ’andler a’ ’uman cargo. Yer know why I sound like that? It’s ’cause I ’ave t’ spell out t’ you what passes unsaid in polite circles. I ’ave a deep self-respect inside me. A deep deep respect. George Washington never lied to ’is dad. I go one better. I never lie t’ meself. It gives me my right t’ a place in the world. Dont lecture me. Get the money. Joan When d’you want it by? Jack Now. Joan Yes but how long can I – Jack Now. I ain dealin with one illegal wog. I got a team t’ look after. Yer aint pay up – the ’ole business is threatened. What use am I t’ the sufferin ’n needy if I end up gift-wrapped in concrete at the bottom of the river? Joan goes towards the cellar. Jack Leave that. I dont think yer realise ’ow serious the situation is. Get the cash. Now. I’ll tell ’im the good news. Joan goes back up the stairs. She stops. Joan I cant. I’m sorry. I dont know how to beg or steal. I cant borrow so much. (Flat.) You’re a monster from somewhere I dont know. We speak the same words but they have different meanings. Jack ’E’s incurred obligations. ’E leave ’ere without payin ’e’ll ’ave a knife through ’is ribs. Joan goes out. Jack sits silent and motionless for a while. Then he twiddles his thumbs and whistles for a few moments. Then he picks his teeth with a matchstick. He stands. Looks round for somewhere to put the matchstick. Puts it in his breast pocket. Goes into the cellar. Goes to the box. Shuts the lid. Sits on it. Jack She says yer a con. Bin tellin porkies. She thinks yer never ’ad the money. She cant think straight. Yer ain stupid. Yer must a’ ’ad the money t’ come t’ me in the first place. Dummy You came through the front door. Jack I’d’ve come through the wall if necessary. Yer narked?

Dummy Narked? Jack Angry. Dummy It was my fault. I should not have put the box under the chair. I didnt know you would come that day. But I make excuse for myself. I am too comfortable here. I could kill you. I have a knife. I am quicker and stronger than you. You have minders. Someone will know you are here. Your body would be a problem. The little box is too small for your coffin. Beside – I came from my country because I did not want to kill any more. Why should I kill here? Jack Yer talk in yer sleep. Dummy I am not surprised. Jack Yer spoke t’ me. In yer lingo. Jumped out a’ me skin. Drop the lolly. ’Ad t’ grovel round for it on me ’ands ’n knees. Dummy What is your plan now? Jack She’s gone t’ ’er bank t’ raise a loan. Dummy What will you do? She will not get it. Jack Never underestimate the ladies. Dummy That is a stupid remark. Pause. Jack She’ll get somethin. I could screw the rest out of ’er in instalments. Put ’er on the game. Nice little regular income. Dummy What will you do if she will not do that? Jack Grass yer t’ the army. Yer wouldnt be the first. I do them a favour – they do me one. Dummy Perhaps the friends of the people you betray will take revenge. Jack The sort I betray – I’m their only friend. Dummy Why do you do these things? Jack Yer want another stupid answer? Dummy Perhaps you will say something interesting.

Jack Because they’re waitin t’ be done. Dummy That is a stupid answer. Jack Because someone ’as t’ do it. Dummy That is another stupid answer. Silence. Jack (low) It was a stupid question. I’ll get yer over the border. But dont push yer luck. Dummy You think I am lucky? Jack Yeh. It could run out. (Stands.) Nothin ’gainst yer personal. Let’s keep it like that. Jack goes out up the stairs. The Dummy Actor takes off his shirt. Under it he wears a plain white T-shirt. He puts the shirt on the Dummy. He has no expression. He goes back to his place.

Four The Dummy and Joan. Joan They said come back. They wouldnt give me a loan today. Why should they tomorrow? Not as much as he wants. I shall play for time. Tell him I can get the money. The formalities will take weeks. We’ll have time to think. We must. I cant now. I’m numb with shock. Dummy My grandmother said a man went to hell. When he came back he had lost his taste. That is all. Joan We need a miracle. Dummy She did not believe in miracles. She said if she saw Jesus walking on the water she would throw him a lifebelt. Silence. Joan He’ll have to wait. If I cant find the money – he’ll have to vanish and leave us alone. What else can he do? He wont do anything that will draw the attention of the authorities. But then there wont be a pass. Or couriers to take you over the border. You cant go back to the streets and shoplooting.

Your luck will run out. You must stay here. I earn enough to keep two. But what life is that for you? You’ll pass your best years in a cellar. You’ll grow old quickly. You wont speak. You wont want to. There’ll be nothing to say. (Pause.) You’ve changed since this morning. What did he say to you? Dummy He said he was wicked. Joan Did he use that word? Dummy It was clear. He is an evil man. Joan Is there a special language of evil? Dummy It was what he did not say. My grandmother said the language of evil is silence. Joan He said horrible things to me. We must not be unfair to him. He tries to help. Where did you meet him? Dummy He saw me looting shoes in a shop. He followed me. I had to give him the shoes. But they were too small. He sent me back for another pair. Joan You still live in the past. Dummy My grandmother said only dead people live in the past. She screamed terrible curses to the soldiers. It was magnificent. They shot her. Joan One day the –. (Stops.) Someone is upstairs. She goes to the stairs. Waits a moment. Jack comes on to the top of the stairs. Why’re you here? You said – Jack Sooner it’s sorted the better. Joan How did you get in? Jack comes down the stairs. Goes into cellar. Jack Yer ain got it. See from yer face. Joan I lied at the bank. I told them I wanted the deposit for a house. Jack (snort) Yer give details a’ the property a’ course! Joan I said it was a preliminary enquiry. I needed to see if I was creditworthy. He said he –

Jack ’Oo said – the manager? Joan An assistant manager. The manager was at an area development conference. I was glad. You cant expect to walk in and be seen. He’d have turned me down. An appointment is necessary. You have to give me more time. Jack In my part a’ the world time ran out before clocks was invented. Joan How did you get in? I double-lock the door now. Jack Yer ’ad the ’ole afternoon ’n yer come back empty-’anded! Waste it on chattin t’ ’n assistant manager! Joan Yes empty-handed! What else did you expect? Jack (to the Dummy) Tell ’er she cant muck me about ! – I put my neck on the line for ’im! Jack takes out the pass. Joan The pass? (To the Dummy.) He’s brought your pass! Your new life! Your freedom! (To Jack.) Thank you! I didnt believe I could trust you. I will find the money. But I have friends. They must help me! There are resistance groups. I saw pamphlets at a friend’s house. Jack (puts the pass in his pocket) I am the resistance group. Joan No – proper organisations that help people for good reasons. O I didnt mean to disparage you. But you said yourself –. (Breathes heavily for a few moments.) If you take his pass away you might as well cut out his heart. I followed you one night in my car. I know where you live. Since then I’ve driven by several times. I know the people who come to your house. Jack Yer surprise me. Joan I pretended to be a Muslim woman. I wore a scarf. Jack Yer astonish me. Joan I’ll do whatever I need to protect my friend. You can tell your friends to wait. When he’s in the North he’ll earn. He wont be like the others. He’ll send you money for my sake. I’ll be here as your hostage. If that wont do I’ll take it further. He’s broken the law – so have you. I’ll go to the army. Jack You’re there now. I am the army.

Joan You’re what? Jack The army. A modest part. They pay me. They supplied the pass. They sent me ’ere t’day. (Takes out mobile.) Report in every ’our when I’m on a job. They like t’ know I’m safe. (Taps in code. Puts mobile away.) I could ’ave a squad round ’ere in ten minutes. Yer can forget the army. They ain bother us. Worry about me. Yer both in me pocket. There ain no couriers. No underground. No route. ’S all spin. The army shut it down years ago. The newspaper photos a’ refugees caught crossin the border – fake. They put ’em out t’ cause panic. Panic is good for public moral. The assistant manager phoned the army soon’s yer left the bank. I’m the world yer live in now. Yer take care a’ me – pleasure me – ’n ’is problem’s solved. I can tell the army I suspect ’e’s got contacts. Keep ’im under surveillance. Drag it out. When they come round – which they’ll ’ave t’ in the end – ’e’s vanish. Your problems ain even started. Yer cant stay ’ere even when yer get the money. Yer a criminal. A public enemy. Yer life this far’s come to its end. Yer got two choices. ’N army cell or be a citizen a’ the streets. Yer choose the streets. Yer got me t’ guide yer. If yer dont learn fast yer’ll end in the gutter. Dead. Yer think it dont ’appen? I see it. The dogs walk pass ’n piss on yer. Joan I’d rather go to the army. Jack Yer wouldnt. Yer too sensible. – Double-lock the door be’ind me. Jack makes Joan go in front of him. They go up the stairs. The Dummy Actor takes off his jeans. Under them he wears white boxer shorts. He puts the jeans on the Dummy. He stands by it. He is expressionless. Joan comes down the stairs. Joan We’ll go tonight. I have some money. I drew out all I had today. It’ll keep us for a while. I’ll cover my head again. Dummy We stay here. Joan He’s taking over our lives. We must go. Dummy We stay. Joan (despair) I cant argue. (Goes. Stops at the foot of the stairs.) We cant stay! It doesnt make sense. I’m so tired. Today’s been longer than the rest of my life.

Joan goes out up the stairs. The Dummy Actor takes the knife from a slip pocket in his T-shirt. He is expressionless. He polishes the knife on the cloth. He looks at the blade. He polishes it again. He puts the knife in the pocket of the Dummy’s shirt. He goes back to his usual place.

Five Night. The Dummy is in the chair. Joan comes down the stairs. A scarf covers her hair. She holds a lighted torch. Joan Are you awake? I couldnt sleep. I cant even switch the light on. The army may be watching. Or perhaps everything he said was a lie to get more money? We must go as soon as it begins to be light. Not together. It’d look suspicious. If the army doesnt watch the house the neighbours will. I’ll wear the scarf. There’s a cap and mac upstairs for you. You go first. Wait for me at the coach station. I’ll leave half an hour after you. Dummy Mnches. Mnches. Vczxq bzcvxc. Joan It’s better I dont tell you where we’re going. We’ll be safe in the country with my friends. (She sits on the box.) I took you in. Now I have an obligation to you. I wont abandon you. If you got to the North it wouldnt be different. The North will become what we are. Everywhere will. I know that now. When you’re not free you lose everything. I’m an immigrant in my own country. This house is my prison. This is the last night I’ll spend in it. I was so proud of my little flat. Now I long to leave. I was proud of my job. Yet I was afraid to read the papers that passed through my hands. The things you told me haunt me. I cant get the pictures out of my head. You dont answer. It doesnt matter. We’ll talk all day when we’re away from here. Silence. Dummy Mvacds brads navzcs resdfa. Bacxad gfsda vavsda fgdwg mvanavczx. Nabcxvxas hgweads dfasczxs. Joan I dont understand. Dummy Barcaxzsd bavzcsd vacxdsf vxaczds vbzvcx bcaxzs bvacan bvag mar dsf. Manxvw nancs bxv das. Mabbvsc bavcxads vzcxbvc –

Joan You know I cant speak your language. Joan stands. She goes slowly to the Dummy. Stares down at him. Dummy – mbaczad xaesdwq wasd cav decfs afsadwgers naeds fads adzxsv. Gav manxvcaf – Joan You poor poor … Dummy – mabsvd acsvac vczxdafs dafs czx … bvacan bvagchreus bvacan bvag brasdghes … Joan (gently shaking the Dummy) You frighten me. Wake up. We have to go in the morning. We have to arrange it now. Dummy Hshdavca brazxcgzca brs chavsa hadfs czxa – Joan Wake up! Please. Help me! (Shakes the Dummy violently.) I cant go on like this! I cant go through any more! (She hits the Dummy’s face.) Wake up! Why doesnt he – ! You cant be asleep! Wake up! Why cant you wake up? Walk! (Tries to make the Dummy walk.) Walk! If you walk you must wake up! Walk! Try! (The Dummy falls down.) Get up! We’ll be here when the soldiers come! Is that what you want? Who are you? I know nothing about you! I have to run out of my house like a criminal! Then you take it over! Work for the army! Do that man’s filthy work! (Slides the Dummy along the floor with a kick.) Move! (She walks to the other side of the cellar.) Walk! March! Didnt they teach you to march in the army? Or just to kill the innocent? Dummy (screams in his sleep) Brach! Brach. Joan Murder! Knife your family! Dummy (screams in his sleep) Brach! Brach! Brach! Joan You’re warped! Warped! The things you did’ve warped you! Get up! The people you killed cant! What are you screaming for? Celebrating? Dummy (screams in his sleep) Brach! Brach! Joan (walks further away from the Dummy) He’s still asleep! What have I done? O god. Dummy (screaming in his sleep) Brach! Brach! … (Quieter.) … grdsvo nevcs …

The Dummy’s screams die away. Joan sits. Silence. Joan (low) I’ve killed him. (Turns to stare at the Dummy.) If you shock sleepwalkers you kill them. He didnt wake when I shook him. Why – why did I do …? It was like shaking a stone. He wasnt asleep. It was a trauma. Coma. I’m too scared to go to see if he’s dead. What shall I do if he is? (To the Dummy.) Help me! I cant sit here and wait till – ! O god I shall die in this house. Dummy Bvacan bvag. Joan (looks across at the Dummy) Thank god. (Pauses. Goes to the Dummy.) Did you hear what I said? Dont wake up. Let me speak first – tell you. I said you betrayed people. I hit you. (She kneels by the Dummy.) Forgive me. Everyone has anger in them now. It’s like black pus. It’s because we’re afraid. No –. You killed your parent. You confessed. Now I’ll confess to you. I attacked you because I’m jealous of your innocence. It was the last pus coming out of me. Now I’m as innocent as you. Pure. I’ll sit with you till you come round. Sh – I’m not going to hurt you. (She takes the knife from the Dummy’s pocket.) This is the knife you killed your parent with. The wound hasnt healed in you. You sleep but you dont rest. Your coffin is inside you. You sleep in it. In the morning you get up. But you dont wake up. This morning will be different. When it’s light we’ll go away. I’ll always be with you. I’ll do whatever you want. You’ll wake. I’ll give you a new life.

Six The Dummy Actor sleeps in the chair. The Dummy lies where it was left on the floor by the chair. Joan sits on the box. Silence. The Dummy Actor puts his hand to his pocket. Joan You’re awake. Dummy Where is it? Joan I couldnt wake you last night. Dummy You have taken it. Joan You were in a coma.

Dummy I’m sorry I frightened you. Please may I have my knife? Joan It’s almost midday. I wanted us to leave when it was light. Dummy Leave? Joan You dont need to take anything. I’ve put out a cap and a mac. What were you trying to tell me in your dream? You spoke to me in your language. Dummy I never dream. Joan I’ll go with you. I cant let you go on your own now I know you have these attacks. Dummy They are nothing. Sometimes it happens. That is all. I want my knife. Joan No. Dummy It is my wish. It is my knife. Joan You’ll harm yourself. That man will drive you to it – Dummy No. Joan How can you say that? Dummy I want my knife. I have told you. I am nothing. Nobody. One day I could forget what I have done. Then I am this nothing with no past. The knife is to tell me who I am. It is my pass to myself. Joan I understand. You can have it when we’re in the country. When we’re at peace. Not now. You could get angry and attack that man with – Dummy You do not understand. It is a special thing to me. My mother gave it to me. Joan Gave it – ? But you said – (She stops.) Dummy Yes. (Half pause.) That is also true. Jack comes down the stairs. Jack Got it? Joan How could I? I told you I need time.

Jack Ain no time. Joan But I – Jack No! Joan Then you’ll get nothing. The army wont pay you much for betraying us. Jack Yer stupid bitch! Yer insult every word I say! Yer stupidity’s an insult to my intelligence! Yer think I’d let yer go just because yer coughed up? Yer wouldnt reach the end a’ the street. I’d count the dosh – then bomb yer with the army! (To the Dummy.) She still dont get it! Tell ’er! I’m a swindler! I double-cross everyone! Thass why the army uses me! They give me a medal if they could think up a name nasty enough for it! I tol’ yer – yer was finish the moment yer took ’im into the ’ouse! Yer stupid bitch! Jack goes towards the stairs. Dummy No! Jack (still going. Ironic) What? – yer suddenly remember yer got a stash a’ cash somewhere? (Stops. A slight possibility.) Yer ain, ’ave yer? (Realises.) No – yer ain! The army’ll be ’ere in ten minutes. Dummy She has taken my knife. Jack What? Dummy She has taken – Jack I dont intervene in domestic disputes. Dummy It was the knife I have to kill my parent. Jack (eyebrows. Breathes out softly) …Yer kill yer parent? Dummy I was a boy. Jack Give it ’im. Let ’im ’ave it if ’e want it. – Parent? Which one? Joan He doesnt tell anyone that. Dummy My mother. Joan (quick pause. Nausea and fear) God.

Dummy We had come to too much pain. It was time to end it. They kill my father. Jack ’Oo did? Dummy The others. Jack Yer mates? – they kill yer father? Dummy They were not my mates till later. When it was after. Jack (mechanical chuckle) ’Is mates kill ’is father? (Drily.) What a giggle. Dummy I did not see it. I was in a shock. Sometimes that is better. I would like to have my knife now. Joan You have an emotional disease. I cant put a knife in your hands. Dummy It is my comfort. Joan You’ll never be well while you cling to it. (To Jack.) The whole world cant be given over to cruelty. Let me take him away. You see how he suffers. His dead parents are still lying at his feet! My god if he moved he’d stumble over them. The world’s full of suffering people waiting for you to torment! Their state is worse than his. Doesnt that excite you? Give you your itch? Hurt them. I dont care about them. Yes I’m a bitch! I only care for what I can see. For what’s mine. Give him to me and let me care for him. You can afford to lose one victim. Dummy That is kind. I am grateful that you say these nice things. But I will not go with you. Joan Why not? If he lets you – if he’s human enough or I pay him – Dummy (to Jack) I will not go with her. I will go with you. That is what I have chosen. Joan With – ? The army will shoot you. Dummy There will be no army. (To Jack.) You will not work for army any more. You give all that up. We go away. You are a clever man. You know where it is safe to hide. Jack ’E ain lost ’is knife. ’E’s lost ’is marbles. Dummy You will live another way now.

Jack Me go with you? Dummy It is a good idea. For the best. Jack ’E’s mad. Dummy It is different that is all. It will take you a little time to be used to it. Jack Is this a proposition? Yer got the cash – not ’er? The deviousness a’ these wogs! What figure ’re we talkin? – exact and when. I live again! Me cup floweth over. Dummy I have nothing. I will not sponge on you. When we are away I will loot the best shops for our daily bread – Jack Yer little perisher! Yer waste me time – yet stand there ’n brag yer con me! ’E’s like an idiot ’oo thinks ’e’ll gain time by teachin the ’angman t’ tie knots. Yer worse ’n ’er! If I ’ad the knife I’d stick it in yer more times ’n a dartboard ’as ’oles! Dummy When we are away you will see – Jack ’E means it! O god I cant stand these nutters! Get out a’ my road! Yer ought ’a be exterminated at birth. Dummy Wait! Jack Chuck it! Dummy Wait! Wait! … (Joan and Jack stare at him. Half loud:) Brach. Brach. Grdsvo nevcs … There are soldiers. My mother says ‘Me.’ I am standing before her. I hold knife in my hand. I look at her. Soldier takes knife from me. Now. He takes it. My hand is empty with nothing. He kill my father with knife. In the heart. I do not see this. I look at my mother. Soldier put knife back in my hand. I do not see it. I see nothing till now. Now I see it for first time. My knife has killed my father too. (To Joan.) That is why I do not dream. When I sleep I look where it is too deep to dream. It is too deep to wake me. Jack ’E’s ’oldin a bloody seance! Dummy (to Jack) You help me already. I knew it would be. To see is like a good confession. I shall be well now. We go today. It will be – you would

say severe? – but magnificent. Jack (to Joan) Yer mad ’cause yer shack up with ’im. I’m gettin out! Jack starts to go. Dummy Do not bring too many clothings. Too much is not necessary. My grandmother say if you bring the cross, the nails come with it. Jack (at the stop of stairs. Screams) Shut up! Stop ’im! (Dashes down the stairs. Goes into the cellar.) Give ’im ’is knife! Joan No! Jack I’ll bloody get the – Jack roughly body-searches Joan. She does not resist. Nothing. He steps back. Joan (low, through her teeth but not whistling) You can have everything else but you wont get that. Jack (wipes his forehead) She’s ’id it. The bitch. I know where they ’ide things. I’ll take the place apart. I’ll dig up the street! Dummy (calm) It is not necessary. I dont want it now I have remembered. I am so happy. If you find it please give it to charity. Jack stares at the Dummy Actor. He raises an arm and then points at him. He is going to speak. Instead he goes out up the stairs. Joan It was true? Dummy That he – Joan Concerning your parents? Dummy One cannot make up such things. One forgets. Then if one is lucky one remembers. Joan He thinks the game you’re playing is so clever he cant understand it. He’ll go to a café to get himself together. Then he’ll come back with his thugs. We must go. She goes out upstairs. After a few moments she returns. She carries a mac and cap.

Put these on. Dummy You dont understand. I have told you – Joan You’re not serious? You cant be so stupid. He’ll drink half his coffee then call his mercenaries – his killers – and come back here to get you! Dummy It may be! I cannot be sure. Joan (slight pause) You’d go with him if he said you …? He’s wicked. Dummy I have killed my parent. Joan Forced. Dummy There may be reasons for his wickedness. Joan Shut up! I will not listen to this holy claptrap! He’s evil! A butcher! Dummy I cannot disappoint him. It will cost him a hard struggle. It is not easy for him to give up his work – his connections to – Joan You broke into my house. I listened to you. Pitied you. Took you in. I grovelled to that disgusting man. I gave up everything. Made myself a criminal. I dont know what will happen to me. I offer to go with you. And you choose that evil filth! Dummy Yes it is strange. Joan Why? You think I couldnt manage? I’d abandon you when it’s difficult? Dummy No – you are an efficient lady – Joan Even if I did – it would still be better to die with me than prosper with that evil thing. Dummy I did not wish to make you trouble. If I knew I would not have broken your window – Joan Window! Window! You broke my life! Dummy I have crossed a frontier. Perhaps many people must cross it. It is between where I am now and all other places. The disturbance – would you say turmoil or turbulence? – I have brought to your life has made you strong –

Joan I will not be patronised by a warped aberration! You’re dangerous! Dummy If I do not go with him I must kill myself! Joan (throws the cap and mac at him) Put those on. I’ll wait upstairs. Joan goes out up the stairs. The Dummy Actor strips the jeans and shirt from the Dummy. He dresses himself in them. He goes back to his usual place.

Seven The Dummy lies by the chair where it was left. The Dummy Actor is in his usual place. The mac and cap lie untouched on the floor. Joan comes down the stairs. She wears a headscarf. She carries a lighted torch. Joan Why hasnt he come? I watched the street all day. He’s preparing something terrible. (She turns the empty box upside down. Shakes it.) If I could have paid him. (She stares at the Dummy.) He’s in his coma again. He’s a corpse with something. (Picks up the Dummy. Shakes it.) Wake up! (Drops the Dummy. Goes back to the stairs.) They’re conspiring behind my back. He meets them when I’m at work. (She takes out the knife.) I will be calm. (Counts the steps as she treads on them.) One. Two. Three. Four. Immigrants. (Stops.) That’s why they come here. Aliens. They want to take my house. Take our land. Loot the food from our stores. He doesnt work for the army. The army works for him. (Goes back to the cellar.) You killed your father and mother. That’s easy! It’s an offence against nature! It’s harder to kill strangers! That’s an offence against their community! They stick together! I’m alive after all your plots and schemings! … I watched all day … You’re evil! (She moves a knife over the Dummy as if searching for a place to stab. Goes back to the stairs.) You must be calm! Try! I am calm! (She walks up and down the stairs.) Seven. Six. Five. Four. Four. I counted four! Five. Six. He’s a suicide bomber. I must escape from the house. I cant. His soldiers are on the street. They’re not soldiers. They’re terrorists. He’s keeping me hostage! Two. Three. Five. Three. Five. Where’s four? There’s a step missing! (Counts frantically in silence.) He’s stolen a step! He cant! You were standing on them! They’re stealing my house bit by bit! They came to drive me out of my house! They’re driving me out of my mind!

One. Two. All day – I watched all. Three. No four! (Goes back to the Dummy.) You steal the ground from under my feet! (Goes to the stairs.) Missing! (Goes back to the Dummy.) Confess! (Stabs the Dummy.) Wake up! (Stabs.) Wake up! (Stabs.) Wake up! He wont! He’s in his coma! (Stabs.) Hiding! It’s a ritual – not coma! (Stabs.) Secret rituals! Deep! He dies so he can set the dead against me! … (She wanders around the room.) … the mice come out of the skirting to play leapfrog and eat each other … (She picks up the Dummy. Drags it behind her.) They come here … follow you in the streets … they used to be our streets … (Turns to face the Dummy – dragging it as she backs away from it.) Go away! Stop it! Following me! Following! Stalking! Go away! (She drops the Dummy. Goes to stairs. Counts them silently – jabbing her finger.) Missing! Missing! (Goes back to the Dummy.) Confess! Confess! (She stabs the Dummy. Stamps on it. Rips. Slashes. Tears.) Wake up! Slice the sleep off your face! Cut it out of your eyes! Shred your tongue! Cut the vrgs kvricks blotch blotch off it! (The Dummy is destroyed. The stuffing explodes and spills out. Long strips of yellow plastic rubber two or three inches wide scatter and litter the floor.) Get up! (She pulls off her headscarf. Rips it. Slashes it.) Hraxczsvzc! Bratschwig! Wroksccxvs! Tell your grandmother! (Headscarf.) It’s hers! (Rips and slashes.) She’s here! All coming here! (Slashes.) Get rid of the evil! Where is it? (She searches the strips and rags.) Evil! Wickedness? Where? (She drops the knife. She sits in the chair. She fiddles with strips hanging from her hands.) … I gave you everything to … I would have taken care of you … I was happy … I watched the sky through the window … all day long … I became pure … innocent … you are warped … evil … (She stands. Searches the strips and rags.) … Where? … Where? … Where is the evil? (She kneels. Stares at a strip. Twists it on the knife, screws the knife in it.) His evil is everywhere. His shadow smells of it. (She stands. The chair falls on its side. She collects strips.) I must show the people what I’ve done. (Collecting pieces. They roll from her hands.) … Hang his body in the window … (She goes up the stairs. Strips trail after her.) … Show them they’re free now … The soldiers will see. (Quavering like a child.) They’ll punish me … Must hide it. (Goes back to the cellar. Collects strips and rags. Tries to stuff them in the box. They spill.) Hide it. Hide it. She collects a few more strips. She is deliberate and does not rush. She sees the overflowing box. The pieces in her hand fall to the ground. She goes to

the box. Treads the lid down with her foot. Wanders to the stairs. Looks back. The debris is more scattered than it was before she collected it. She sees a strip. Goes to it. Picks it up. Drops it in the box. Walks – almost drifts – up the stairs and goes out.

Eight The floor littered as before. The chair on its side. The Dummy Actor in his usual place. Jack comes down the stairs. Stops halfway. Jack Why’ve I come? ’E’s got somethin on me. Must ’ave. Found out somethin the army ain even got on file. (Sits.) Everyone ’as their worse secret. Someone find that out they can screw blood out yer wallet. ’E thinks ’e’s on to mine. (Thinks.) Some murder I forgot? Some kid? Some decrepit ol’ bastard ’oo stuck ’is nose in? … Is that why I come? (Stands.) Get it sorted. Settle it. (He stands. Goes into cellar. Stares at debris. Goes back to stairs. Sits.) ’Er. She got ’ere first. It’s a relief yer dead. I can talk t’ yer easier. Yer almost got me. Last night I thought I’d chuck it in. Go with yer. Get the pack a’ khaki-shites off me back. Teach yer t’ survive. Is that what yer wanted? Needed? (Finds a strip dropped on the stairs. Picks it up. Stares at it. Drops it.) The dead ’ve got their proper place – a grave or where their ash is spent – even the wind or sea – where they belong by right – their ’ome. Must yer die before yer can enter the ’uman race? (Silence. Strikes his knuckled fist on the stair. Silence.) … Stupid. It wouldnt last. Couldnt stand ’is voice. I’d flat ’im in a week. (Pause.) I never turned t’ crime out a’ weakness. I ’ad a different reason. Hope. (He stands. Goes into the cellar. Moves debris with his foot. Searches aimlessly.) Why? Why? Why? (Sets the toppled chair upright. Moves a strip with his foot.) Why? He picks up the box. Turns it upside down. It empties. He glances inside it. Puts it down. He goes towards the stairs. His shoe strikes the knife. It rattles a little way along the floor. He picks it up. Feels the blade with his thumb. Puts it in his pocket. Goes out up the stairs.

Nine

The Dummy Actor walks into the debris. Looks down at it. Half moves a strip aside with his foot. Then another. Dummy Actor Brdriczs … Brdriczs … Brdiczs.

Freedom and Drama Kant created the crisis in modern thought. He divided free will from the determinism of nature. Without the former we are not human. Yet freedom is still beyond our reach. Since Kant, philosophy has wandered, sometimes wisely, sometimes lost in the wilderness. Only drama can resolve the crisis. It can do this not by teaching but by clarifying what human beings are and in this way creating humanness. Humanness is understanding. Greek philosophers were largely undemocratic. Greek drama was fundamentally democratic. If we do not resolve our crisis we shall physically annihilate ourselves or scientific reductionism will replace humanness with political hygiene and rational barbarism. Humanness is not created (or defended) by thinking. It is done by judgement. Judgement includes thought but is more complicated. Only drama can elucidate human judgement. It depends on the logic of imagination, which is also the logic of humanness. To simplify this brief account, complex things will be described almost diagrammatically. Stages of development will be described without regard for the exact times they take to occur and for the blurring that involves. The ‘singularity’ which I shall describe is an exception. At whatever time it occurs there must be a moment of recognition. Another simplification is the use of technical words – such as ‘neonate’ for ‘newborn baby’ – to clarify the account by disentangling it from common assumptions. There is a difference between theatre and drama. We need to understand what drama is: its origin in ourselves and in society. Some things change and others do not. Since the beginning of time a circle has been a circle and a square a square. We could not exist if this were not so. But we could not be human if other things did not change. History is change. Theatre may – in fantasy – act as if a circle were a square. Drama cannot – but without drama we cannot change. Yet in drama there is something as permanent as the square. This determines the logic of imagination, which is as necessary to us as the logic of reason. Humanness comes from two logics. The logic of reason comes from material reality: a circle is a circle. Theatre has no logic of imagination – it is random, driven

by wishful thinking and inspired by evasion. The logic of imagination is expressed in drama. In fact, it is drama. This truth reveals strange facts that may be expressed in strange ways. Paradoxically, their strangeness makes them obvious and simple. A cup has a handle. I hand you the cup and you do not notice the handle. If I hand you a cup with a hundred handles you become aware of ‘handle’ – and that handles are extraordinary. When you use your hand to lift the handle the movement contains all the determined necessity of the natural universe, and – more remotely – all the logic of human freedom. If events that otherwise pass unnoticed are described in drama in strange ways, then we see that the ordinary conceals unseen danger and potential. Seeing this is vital in our troubled times. The handle may reveal matters of life and death. In fact, dramatic fiction is a form of death that creates our reality: it is as if we died so that we can give our reality to the stage. Reality is always that site where human logic is enacted most rigorously. This paradox will become clear. Drama comes from the foundation of our lives and penetrates all reality. The young of some animal species play. In fact, their play is training. They train to be – stay – what they are: as if a circle trained to be a circle. Human play – and drama – is different. It concerns change. You cannot imagine two tigers in a play in which they pretended to fight over territory. Still less, a wolf and a lamb in a play in which the wolf pretends to devour the lamb. In drama, pretence is a reality. Enmity between people is often greater than that between wolf and lamb – it is said ‘man is a wolf to man’. We create plays in which we act at the extremes of our behaviour. It is not enough to say we behave differently to animals. We and they occupy the same space and time: but our reality is different. Drama changes our reality. We cannot change reality without drama. How and why must this be so? We must reconstruct an early stage in all our lives which later we cannot remember. The neonate has no knowledge of the material world of circles and squares, no conception of the polarities we must rely on to understand anything: time and space, inside and outside, self and other, subjective and objective, life and death. The neonate is – itself – the world. It does not know there is a world outside it. It sees someone who is – we know – outside it: but it has no outside. It is its own inside-outside. If the ‘outside’ figure smiles – it smiles. If it is fed it not only feeds itself, it is the food. It is the world – a monad, a being enclosed within itself, the entirety of everything. I do not say how long this state lasts

– only that there must be such a state. Later we cannot re-enter this state – though it, by another route, may enter our later state. It is obvious but repressive to say the neonate doesn’t know our ‘real’ reality. It is its ‘own’ reality. Can we say ours is not? The neonate’s experience is not as limited as its knowledge. The reverse is true, conceptually and probably biologically. If we use our words to describe the neonate’s state we could say it is in infinity and eternity, its feelings and emotions stretched to cover these things. It is a passionate world of dread, rage and joy. The neonate passes backwards and forwards between what we call life and death. It does not know the parameters and structures that establish our existence. This puts its existence in reverse. That is a foundation of humanness. The neonate lacks only the severity of the earth on which we tread. The neonate is what we would call God – though it needs no God because the world – it itself – is already there. In order to be, God would have to step out of this world. That the world – it, the monad – creates this ‘God’ is the first act of human creation. It is the creation of judgement, and that day is the first day not the last. Later, when earthly authority owns reality, it will establish the ideology which reverses this order of things. We might say that ideology infantilises our existence – but that would not honour the human passions of history. It is the reversal of the direction of the neonate’s existence into that of the adult that moves us from evolution into history. It makes history necessary. Humanness is the reversal back of ideology to the creativity of the neonate – but then the creativity is freighted with the severity of the earth. I describe the neonate-monad-world in detail because when its strange reality is understood, the rest is still strange but simple. Many complications and contradictions are resolved, and existence is explained by its paradoxes. The circle cannot ‘change’ into the square because natural reality is constant. When the neonate becomes the child in the adult world, the change in its self-identity is consequential – but the fundamental change is that its change changes all reality, the meaning of all reality. It is as if, in nature, all circles became squares. This is the chaos in history. In this simile, humanness is the logic that seeks to turn the square-circle back into a circle – seeks because humanness is a relation of mental to material. So humanness is not determined, it is chosen. It is the object of drama. In the monad-world the neonate and God are one. This explains what happens in, to or of the neonate. It has no discourse of experience. In it each

event is known only by its effects. These are pleasure and pain. Some events will be extreme, and all may be. We cannot know. Perhaps it’s as if the desert felt the weight of each grain of sand. It is a world of drama without characters. If it chose as we would, the neonate world would choose pleasure and not pain. Yet the neonate is the world – and there is pain in it. (No theology can explain why there is ‘evil’ in God’s world. The development of the neonate explains it.) The neonate is its pain as well as its pleasure. We assume that it would move towards pleasure and away from pain. But the neonate cannot ‘move’ from pain because there is nowhere else to go. If it could move it would have to ‘move’ towards pleasure and pain. Both are its being. The neonate’s pleasure and pain occur randomly and in patterns. It is responsible for both in the sense of being (as the world) their cause – but it is responsible, also, in the sense of accepting responsibility. It is responsible in both senses for the pattern. Pleasure and pain are sensations. Pattern is an intellectual thing. At first the neonate has only a brain. How does the brain turn itself into a mind? Its brain ‘registers’ pattern because neurologically it evolved to be able to do so. Perceiving pattern is the first mind event. It is as if a light is switched on in a room and touches everything in the room. All events in the monad now exist in two forms – in the body and in the mind. A feeling is strong or weak. But a thought is a thought. You cannot have a bit of thought, you think or you don’t. A sensation is not autonomous – a thought is, it authors and authorises itself. The first thought creates the mind and the mind creates the self. It is the singularity. It is as if in one stride the neonate crosses from one side of the universe to the other. Only a self has a mind. The creation of the self is the first act of creation. It is the structure of all later creation. The threefold self is created by three events: pleasure, pain and the pattern which exists – as pleasure and pain already do – only by being cognised. The latter is an intellectuation, the use of reason. This changes reality. Pleasure and pain are sensations that exist in the body. What is in the mind is not a sensation but a concept. It denotes another reality – that of pattern, meaning. Later, we name the neonate’s first concepts: pleasure and pain become the Tragic and the Comic. The new self has only these three elements: the Tragic, the Comic and the intellect. They are the necessary elements of all creation. At the moment of the singularity the self has all the

necessary elements of drama. The self is a dramatic and dramatising structure. We are the dramatic species and the first drama is the creation of the self. Creation is not manufacture or the act of science. They function through linear reason alone. Linear reason makes, it does not create. Humanness is neither manufactured nor thought. It is created by the forms of drama. For the sake of simplicity I shall call this first self the ‘core self’. It does not really exist as such, because later it is changed by all the self’s later experience. But it remains the core dramatising structure. Any situation which has in it elements of the first situation, which made the first act of creation necessary, will re-enact the core self, bringing it into creativity. Creativity enacts human reality because although drama uses fiction it activates the core self which is the foundation of our reality. Drama is not fiction – it works on the border between fiction and reality. In any serious understanding, drama is reality – not because it takes its subject from street reality but because it enacts the core self, which is the means by which we entered into reality. Theatre, theatrical literature, ritual, performance and all the other forms of theatre use only one or two of the three elements of the core self and so imagination cannot enact its logic. Only drama uses the three elements. That is why it does not just discern meaning but creates it. When the neonate creates the self the monad ceases to be. The self knows the gap between sensation and concept, body and mind. The gap becomes the concept of nothingness. Nothingness is the only thing you cannot imagine. If you try you imagine a place for it to be in. But nothingness cannot be anywhere. Nothingness becomes the site of the self. It is why you cannot know the self – the self knows. Nothingness divides us from the predetermination of nature yet relates us to it. So nothingness is the site of our freedom. We are predetermined – but only to choose. The self enters the objective world which is outside it – first into the family, then society. But it brings into them the human universe. The core self’s subjectivity is the universe because the neonate was the world. The mark of the human is the Tragic and the Comic. In the neonate, as it was everything, this was coterminous with ‘what?’ In the self it changes to ‘why?’ The life of Helen Keller helps us to imagine the neonate’s monad-world. She was blind and deaf. She had a self because she had more experience

than the neonate. But as a young girl she still thought she was the entire world. Whatever came to her from our world she thought came from herself because she willed it. There was no one else because she did not know what a person was. Some ‘arms’ functioned differently but they were ‘her’ as much as her (own) arms. Her silent darkness was as absolute as a circle or square. Her guardian would tap messages on the palm of her hand. One day she recognised that the taps made a pattern. In a flash she knew there was someone outside ‘her’ contacting her. There was another being like herself. This was the singularity. She left the monad and entered our world. The monad was responsible in its self-world. It related actively to pain and pleasure even before it conceived them as the Tragic and the Comic. This activity shows what can be described as its need to be at one with itself, to be at home in the world. In the monad’s infinite-eternity its pains and pleasures have extreme depths and durations. The need to order them, relate to them, is a consuming, implacable, unwavering imperative. The imperative is synonymous with its being. It is in the world in order to be at home in it – and the imperative to be at home in the world is the imperative to be human. It persists into the core self. To the original primal sensations of pleasure and pain, the self adds (with the Tragic and Comic) the intellectual precision and intransigence of thought. The self is the imperative. It still has no knowledge of our later discursive thinking. For it, the first thought in the universe is that the thought (and so the thinker) had the right to be. This right is implicit in thought. An object – a cup or circle – has no ‘need’ of a right to be – they are. But a thought has a right to be, which – as it were – it reveals, in the act of thinking, to the thinker: thinker and thought are one. It is not a question of what is thought but of the act of thinking. Thought carries its own necessity – it is the objective in the subjective. In the core self it joins with the self’s self-justifying need of the right to be. This is saying no more than that thinking, also, makes humanness necessary. If the vicissitudes of experience deny this right, the self is traumatised and cannot function. It is not a psychosis because there is not yet enough experience for opposition to distort. It is a state of induced autism. The core self of the Tragic, the Comic and reason form the imperative of its right to be. As the right is implicit in thought, the self must express it, and doing so is its radical innocence. The relations between the imperative

and the objective, outside, material world form the logic of humanness. But of course in society the objective is saturated with the subjective. This is the subject and object of drama. The core self is not an ‘essence’. It is a structural function, a module, in which are the determinants of humanness. Humanness cannot be reduced to biological drives. The mind is not the brain. It must be autonomous. The promptings of Freud’s unconscious and preconscious belong to the logic, the reasoning, of drama. Freud had no theory of Tragedy. Instead he had a theory of Thanatos, the death instinct. Death is the clinician’s final cure. But the problem of humanness has no cure. Drama makes the problem creative. Drama is concerned with justice and injustice, not good and evil. Evil is the pathology of injustice. Drama is not a form of psychoanalysis because in psychoanalysis radical innocence is guilt. Psychoanalysis is tainted with ideology because, like it, it reverses the process of humanness. At best it is a therapeutic form of law, but if the theory of Thanatos is valid society should reward its murderers. Even history doesn’t go so far – it rewards them but only temporarily. Freud cannot deal with the Promethean in humankind, yet without the Promethean we are not even decent. Only drama can make the human problem creative. Its subject is society, and so not people in society but society in people. The self’s problem as it enters society is simple. Its human imperative seeks to be at home in the world. Later we call this the imperative to justice. But society is unjust. Radical innocence cannot be at home in society unless it is corrupt. But then the self cannot be at home in itself. It is the human paradox again. Radical innocence is not goodness, and evil is not an inevitable presence. The corruption of radical innocence produces in the psyche the pathology of injustice, and society describes this pathology – in its raging or catatonic forms – as good or evil. Which, depends on the needs of its ideology. All forms of morality are necessarily immoral because they are used to support unjust societies. Morality is the ideological device administration places like a grid over the human imperative. It distorts the meaning of radical innocence. Historically, society had to do this so that it could function. It is the lie/truth. We only have truths – such as ‘it is human to help your neighbours’ – at the cost of lies – such as ‘it is human to kill your enemies’. In the lie/truth enmity is necessary because injustice brings about the conditions it is used to repress: an enemy is dangerous, we do not

want to be robbed in the street even if society is more unjust than the robber. It is not the law’s task to give justice but to administer injustice. If the law were to be just there would be chaos. We cannot live with justice because society is founded on ideological fictions. We live these fictions on the street just as actors play fictions on a stage. The difference between them and us is that we are attached in different ways to economic, material reality – the actor earns differently. We are fictions because we live the logic of ideology and not the logic of imagination. The former is the corruption of the latter – the logic in which the core self and reality form each other. The tension between the core self and the daily self, between the human imperative and the social lie/ truth, is constant. Administration cannot resolve or even accommodate the tension because it serves unjust society. How can we describe this state of being? – we are ghosts haunted by the living core self. Ghosts who kill themselves each day to try to find peace. Our fictional lives would fall apart if we did not bind them together with violence, sentimentality and money. We cannot share our lives without violence, we turn violence into a blessing. This essay seeks to explain these paradoxes and their consequences. Together the Tragic, the Comic and the intellect form the human imperative. Imagination seeks reason – which is saying no more than that, to enact itself, value seeks understanding. This creates the logic of imagination. Without imagination there can be no self-consciousness. Imagination is often anodyne and wishful-thinking. But in crisis it becomes urgent. Then the intellect seeks to describe, and the Tragic and the Comic to evaluate, exactly. It may be a crisis of thought in an armchair or a physical crisis in the street. In a dangerous street accident the mind works faster in seeking the surest way to survive. It sees more of the relevant and the irrelevant. What seems irrelevant may become most relevant of all. In drama this is the devastating play of the relevant and irrelevant which reopens the ideologically closed world. Then the cup may ‘contain’ the universe because it is cathected with it. This extreme perspicacity is a neurological provision in extreme situations. In it subjective time slows down. This is the ‘accident time’ which is at the centre of the Tragic (the pure Comic quickens time as it ‘leaps over nothingness’). Even in a physical accident – which raises the questions of ‘what’ and ‘how’ – the mind may find itself facing the question of ‘why’ – of the meaning of the ‘what’ that seeks to

survive. These are situations of drama, on the street or in a play. They are situations in which a choice must be made. A dramatist must be an extremophile: drama creates extreme situations which impose choice. Even if the choice is reduced to compliance, the nature of the compliance must be chosen. What choice did the gas chamber victims make for us as they died? The question seems bitterly ironic, but it must not be avoided. Drama must report the choice. In the extreme of the Tragic the protagonist accepts responsibility for the godless universe. The choice gives meaning to the meaningless and words to the silenced. The tragic protagonist is always innocent. The burden of innocence is harder to bear than the burden of guilt. In the extreme situation the self is returned to the core self, to be confronted by the human imperative. That is, we become the human imperative, which was the first act of creation. We are confronted with our radical innocence. In the Tragic, audience and actors are one in this confrontation. The audience must still judge the actors’ choice (given in text-with-performance, or: play-with-the-‘invisible object’, which is the actor precisely in situation). The choice defines the self – and this creates the self: because the core self is the only means of human creation. To be precise, the core self does not create the ‘chosen self’, the ‘new self’ that the self chooses to be in the presented situation. The core self remains existentially untouched. It does no more than enforce a choice in the present self. The present self recreates its self – as innocent or corrupt – by its choice in the drama’s situation. But the core self has percepted the situation – and so the self must take responsibility for itself. For that moment the universe becomes the self’s monad. Nature and mind cannot be closer than they are in drama. It is the confrontation of necessity (fate) and human freedom. Tragedy is the opposite of Aristotle’s catharsis. Fundamentally, Aristotle the philosopher is justifying slavery. Euripides is its early critic. Brecht’s attempted alienation puts him on the side of Aristotle. The core self is the threefold unity of the Tragic, the Comic and reason, the discernment of the intellect. At first reason cannot be detached from the other two. Implicit in self-consciousness, in thought conscious of itself, is the right to be and – to put it at its most abstract – that being, existence, is the right place to be. Existence entails the world which is the site of the self. The self enters unjust society. This is the paradox of humanness and drama. The paradox must be analysed into rigid formulae in order to understand its inevitability. Justice can be conceived only in imagination. Imagination is

the ‘longing’ for justice, for the just world. The imperative to justice is the cause of the need to create the just society. The imperative is the origin of all human creativity. All creation requires choice. Choice is made at the boundary between creation and destruction. There are two causes of injustice. First, radical innocence is egotistic. That is as inevitable as the determination of nature. But radical innocence is outside nature, is not an object but in the mind. A child must impose its imperative on others. It does not understand its guardians’ need to subordinate its needs to their economic and social obligations. To them it is often selfish and egoistic. Ideology even says that it is sinful at birth. Yet it bears the imperative to justice – and for it justice must be synonymous with meeting its own needs. Its innocence is radical because its tears, laughter, rage and elementary movements all come from its need to be in the world home. In the monad, pleasure and pain were both necessary to being. Now with ruthless logic the child uses the Tragic and the Comic – in action and reaction – to be at home in our world. Its situation is always extreme. It has not acquired the politeness, indifference, cynicism, faith and corruption which allow its elders to survive in society by accepting the lie/truth. It has not learned the agony of generosity which is called love. It cannot yet share its human imperative with the imperative of others. Its guardians’ just restrictions will seem to it unjust – and, as they are human, many of their restrictions will really be unjust. Every child is wounded before it may become human. Later, it will be corrupted into a law-abiding citizen – or its radical innocence will become a radical, severe care for the world. But the only origin of altruism is egotism. History is the second cause of injustice. There was no past golden age. All societies organise to survive scarcity and catastrophe. Nature is never beneficent for long. All societies are stalked by disease and death. Ignorance causes fear and the ignorant always seek to placate their fear by sacrifice. And the child is already prepared by its wounds to enter this society. The problem lies in our imagination. Animals have no self, and so they can have no imagination. A fox would not set out to hunt for its prey on the stars – but we imagine we can find the meaning of our lives on the stars or in the universe, which is as absurd! The universe is indifferent. ‘Everything’ paradoxically has the fearsomeness of ‘nothingness’. So imagination inhabits it with human purpose. This gives ideology its violent, coercive power. Whoever owns nothingness owns everything, including

human beings. The owners of nothingness create the sacred gods and so they themselves become the profane gods that are our rulers. Imagination reaches beyond knowledge to explain everything – even, Hamlet says, what is beyond imagining. The nothingness-of-everything gap which is the universe is also the nothingness, the gap, in the mind. When authority owns the universe – through religion and in other ways – it invests the gap in the mind. Quite simply, it owns our reality. This is the human paradox in another form. It appears in all our dealings. We walk on traps. We understand history when we remember that animals have no gods. The minds of early humans were superstitious and dark and their sacrifices cruel. It could not be otherwise, because history is ‘living with death’. But their cave drawings are made by the threefold mind. Their barbarity totally expresses our human imperative. Their art is no less plangent, hopeful and discerning than ours – often more so, because at that time technology had not yet alienated chaos. They drew their images for us. The paradox of the lie/truth on which all societies depend is this: we have truth only at the cost of lies. It is the origin of the fantasies of ideology – the gods, devils, myths, fanaticisms and superstitions – which corrupt us yet paradoxically support our humanness. The paradox of history is tragic: we have humanness only at the cost of inhumanness. The inhumanness of injustice is historically necessary to the human ordering of society. This ordering is equivalent to well-being in the neonate. The lie/truths may be economically adequate and even efficient. Our biological drives easily adhere to them – for instance, patriotism describes the nation as a person and so an object of love even, as Horace said, unto death. But you die for country and home – and so the lie/truth is validated on both sides of the stroke, on one by efficiency and on the other by fidelity. Ideology works because it is parasitic on the human imperative. You kill your enemies because you love your neighbours. The paradox works because it is a paradox. Unjust social structures bring about the conditions administration claims to remedy. The enemy is threatening and we must go to war. The fanatic will kill us if we don’t kill first. The poor are more likely to steal than the rich (they are poorer). The rich are more cultured than the poor (they buy more education). But the lie/truth is under pressure from changes in technology and the economy. The ratios of the lie/truth change. Culture becomes epicene and decadent. Efficiency becomes

destructive. Law becomes desocialising – and this anomaly is the most revealing of all. The imperative to justice originates in the neonate. But justice has no description. It is not even pleasure in the place of pain. A Utopia without suffering would be hell, a clinic of grinning post-humans. The neonate becomes human when it conceives the Tragic and the Comic. This leads to the imperative for justice. For the neonate, justice is bodily comfort and the integration of the Tragic and the Comic in the egotistic mind. Later, the imperative becomes the need for altruism and justice in society. But society is in history not the cradle, and its description of justice is – necessarily – in justice. Again, the human paradox. When the neonate enters society its world is turned upside down. If it were not we could never create a just society. Justice has no description, no transcendental origin – it is the bare imperative to be at home in the world. How can the imperative to justice ‘be at home’ in unjust society, where naked inequalities and the tensions of the lie/truth are enforced by violence? The imperative to justice must enact itself, in part, through in justice. There is nothing else it can do. The imperative is not a psychological motive. Its effects are more drastic because they are more directly related to material reality. And if the imperative were simply a motive, then the motive to be just could be fulfilled only by being unjust, and the need to be innocent only by being corrupt. This is because the imperative would not enforce the burden of social change. If we do not understand this and its consequences, history must revert to evolution and we will destroy humanness. Evolution has no place for humanness, that is why it turned into history. What we have to understand is this: the imperative remains constant but the act changes. This surprises us because we take the mind to work in the way material cause-and-effect works: the consistency of the universe requires that the same cause always has the same effect. Because it is not so with us, we are the dramatic species: we create our reality. All unjust societies are maintained by corrupt moralities. Of course, sustained society has in it the necessity to change. To create a more just society we must not only fight injustice but also use injustice to fight injustice. Idealistic attempts to leap over this paradox end in greater injustice. We know that, in another corner of our reality, a stone cannot float on water. There is a continuum between this material fact and the human mind’s highest aspirations, because we are also part of the material

universe. We are not subject to the necessity of cause and effect, but our humanness depends absolutely on logic. It is the logic in which the human imperative relates to administrative necessity, and radical innocence to social, material reality. In this logic the lie/truth may in time give way to the truth/truth. The logic of humanness is also the logic of imagination. Just as the human imperative must, in history, be encumbered with injustice, so imagination must be open to fantasy and distortion. This is the threshold of corruption, crime and drama. To enter drama we need a better understanding of corruption and crime. Corruption comes from the conflict between the imperative to justice and the practical necessity of living in an unjust society. In this conflict the imperative to justice readily becomes the need for injustice. Because the need for injustice is self-conflicting, it turns the need for justice into the lust for revenge. Lust because the reversal of the need corrupts the existential mind. Revenge is the pathology of injustice. As I have argued, ideology describes this, according to its classifications, as either evil or righteousness. Reductive science describes it as aggression and destructiveness, both innate. Such explanations foster injustice and are forms of violence. As the self is the site of the human imperative, the self must seek justice. In unjust society crime may be the expression of the need for justice – just as the child’s destructive anger may express its need for justice. The criminal commits his crime to express his innocence. This is a cliché in the trials of martyrs under tyranny. The martyr is on the side of truth in the lie/truth. The cliché becomes a raw truth when unjust democracy convicts and punishes criminals – and we do not like to admit it. The criminal does not have a martyr’s conviction and cannot justify himself by a philosophy. We can see what is at stake by comparing the criminal and a soldier. The soldier kills for his country and for justice. So he acts on the human imperative. But society stands between him and his killing. Its ideology corrupts justice, so the soldier kills for injustice. But he obeys ideology and is called an idealist. The criminal commits his crime in an unjust society. If he obeys his society he commits its injustices. But he can express his imperative to justice by disobeying his society and committing crimes. The relation of soldier and criminal to the imperative for justice is the same. What stands between both of them and their acts is ideology – but its effects are different. The soldier obeys and the criminal disobeys. But if to kill out

of duty is called idealism – then what the criminal does must be described in the same way: crime is an act of idealism. It comes from what was once called the soul. This goes unnoticed because society judges by motives. Motives are artificial. They arise from the conflict between the imperative and social practice. They are tainted by the pathology of social injustice and its corruption of innocence. Instead of the motive for acts we must understand their meaning. But the lie/truth is concerned with the pragmatics of administration, not the meaning of justice. Neither soldier nor criminal may understand their own motives if they do not know the meaning of their acts. We do not live in a culture of understanding. A criminal may be motivated by inarticulate, resentful outrage at society’s injustice, and a soldier by public outrage at fascism’s injustice. But ironically, fascism flourishes because we do not understand the meaning of the criminal. The third element of the threefold-self – reason – malfunctions. Only imagination – the Tragic, the Comic and reason – can amend the pathology of reason: pathology because human reasoning depends on the Tragic and the Comic. They are not emotions but are in part attached to them. Administration imprisons criminals because we do not want to be robbed on the streets. That is efficient but it is not justice. The law administers society but cannot give justice. If it were just it would open the prisons tomorrow. There would be chaos. It would be very foolish to be just. The paradoxes are too complex for law to resolve. So violence is used to hold together a meaningless culture, but still it falls apart. The words used in morals, ethics, theology, aesthetics are corrupt. To give one example, Aristotle’s hubris is said to be pride which causes the tragic protagonist’s downfall. This is taken as a cliché so irrefutable it would be believed even by the dead. In fact, hubris is insubordination against authority, either divine or state. It asserts the Promethean imperative to be human – and that is why Aristotle, the owner of slaves, needs to destroy it. Then justice is given only in fiction? Even if this were true (it is not) it is not a reason for despair or repression. Drama is a reality, it changes its audiences’ reality. The audience may be small, and may even deny the drama’s effects. But drama does not merely convey ideas and is not propaganda. It creates understanding and this changes the understander. It re-reverses the human process, which ideology has parasitised and deformed. It is as if in the paradox the written words created the pen. Ideas cannot disentangle the mind from ideology because the words we would use

to do this are themselves ideologised. Injustice corrupts, in the present self, the threefold relation in the core self. It isolates reason from value and turns it into linear thought. Linear thought corrupts value, turning the TragicComic into revenge. Humanness is postponed. So thought alone cannot penetrate ideology. Ideology intellectualises the crisis and turns its contradictions into deeper repression. This barbarises intellect but ideology cannot notice this. Medicine, law, social engineering cannot resolve the crisis. Because they do not understand its meaning they worsen it. Only drama can unravel the chaos because only it can create human meaning. Drama must be extreme so that it drives the contradictions beyond the point where ideology can control them. Then the self confronts the core self. This produces the paradox – which appears as non-reason because ideology has made reason irrational. The paradox comes from the confrontation of humanness with ideology, radical innocence with corruption. In the Tragic humanness always prevails. We cannot create a culture of understanding without using drama, but not all ages can create drama. In quiet times convention and custom take its place. Or religion may do so by reifying fiction-reality into street-reality. This divides the imagination from its material origins in the threefold self. Then imagination loses the logic of humanness. In its place is the logic of administration’s relation to the natural world. Religion seeks to etherealise the human mind but is the grossest form of vulgar-materialism. In religion even matter dies because it loses its logical relation with the human. Once religion was part of the lie/truth. Now it is just a lie. Drama presents the human imperative. Each age must create its own ways and means of doing this. Only the imperative is constant. Our means may include the latest technology. But if technology uses the actor it is theatre, not drama. This is because technology cannot be cathected with meaning other than its own. Or we may use only the simple space, actors and objects used by the first humans. Then the danger is fake ritual. To avoid both dangers we must use drama devices such as Theatre Event, Invisible Object, Accident Time, site before character, centre before story, human logic not transcendence. These are not aesthetic gimmicks but means without which drama could never create a culture of understanding to replace our culture of organisation. The core self created the human imperative out of the neonate’s crisis. The same self is the basis of drama. Its structural function is to respond to the most critical danger of the times.

For us the crisis is war and so war and its causes are the necessary subjects of our drama. It is the only way it can enact the human imperative. Our greatest danger is nuclear weapons, used by states or conspiracies of fanatics. It will remain the greatest danger, perhaps for lifetimes ahead. That is the reason for The War Plays and the plays that followed. Can radical innocence be irredeemably corrupted, the human imperative destroyed? History records our increasing humanness. Talk of ‘unchanging human nature’ is part of the frightening stupidity that ideology propagates. The problem is that technology magnifies the effects of our diminishing inhumanness: the past did not have nuclear weapons and radio that reaches further than the voice of God. So the problem is compounded. Ideology encourages us to think like madmen. Our culture is haunted by gods, zombies, phantoms, hysteria, superstitions, racism, patriotism, fanaticisms, zealotry and clinical madness. All are impediments to humanness. Perhaps self-conscious, practical life cannot survive in the universe and we are stepping stones for mindless evolution to pass over, first on animal claws and then in iron boots. This is the Faustian trap. Science emancipated us, now administration could use it to dehumanise us. Our danger may be fatal. It is not a crisis of culture but of our species. The need for understanding becomes more urgent. It is said that nothing can stop an idea whose time has come. This is not so. Many such ideas lie in prisons or mass graves. History does not give up the past easily. But drama does not present ideas. It creates understanding. Through drama the human imperative comes to understand itself. The understanding stretches to all of us. And then justice must still be created in social and political terms. But drama must first free the mind from the prison it makes for itself. The problem comes down to us from Kant: ideology seeks to impose the determinism and necessity of nature on us, the human imperative seeks the freedom it does not have. Athens created modern drama. No other city did – other cities only staged the dramas Athens created. That is odd. As odd as if football were played only in Marseilles or in Manchester. One of the greatest artefacts of civilisation came from one small city. The reason is clear. Athens created drama because it had created the first democracy. It protected its democracy against all attempts to destroy it. After two hundred years it failed. It fell to powerful tyrants. And by then it had reached the limits of its material

conditions – it could not function without slavery. Freedom comes only from justice. That is the greatest lesson to come from Athens.

Methuen Drama Student Editions Jean Anouilh Antigone • John Arden Serjeant Musgrave’s Dance Alan Ayckbourn Confusions • Aphra Behn The Rover • Edward Bond Lear • Saved • Bertolt Brecht The Caucasian Chalk Circle • Fear and Misery in the Third Reich • The Good Person of Szechwan • Life of Galileo • Mother Courage and her Children• The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui • The Threepenny Opera • Anton Chekhov The Cherry Orchard • The Seagull • Three Sisters • Uncle Vanya • Caryl Churchill Serious Money • Top Girls • Shelagh Delaney A Taste of Honey • Euripides Elektra • Medea• Dario Fo Accidental Death of an Anarchist • Michael Frayn Copenhagen • John Galsworthy Strife • Nikolai Gogol The Government Inspector • Robert Holman Across Oka • Henrik Ibsen A Doll’s House • Ghosts• Hedda Gabler • Charlotte Keatley My Mother Said I Never Should • Bernard Kops Dreams of Anne Frank • Federico García Lorca Blood Wedding • Doña Rosita the Spinster (bilingual edition) •The House of Bernarda Alba • (bilingual edition) •Yerma (bilingual edition) • David Mamet Glengarry Glen Ross • Oleanna • Patrick Marber Closer • John Marston Malcontent •Martin McDonagh The Lieutenant of Inishmore • Joe Orton Loot • Luigi Pirandello Six Characters in Search of an Author • Mark Ravenhill Shopping and F***ing • Willy Russell Blood Brothers • Educating Rita • Sophocles Antigone • Oedipus the King • Wole Soyinka Death and the King’s Horseman • Shelagh Stephenson The Memory of Water • August Strindberg Miss Julie • J. M. Synge The Playboy of the Western World • Theatre Workshop Oh What a Lovely War Timberlake Wertenbaker Our Country’s Good • Arnold Wesker The Merchant • Oscar Wilde The Importance of Being Earnest • Tennessee Williams A Streetcar Named Desire • The Glass Menagerie

Methuen Drama Modern Plays include work by Edward Albee Jean Anouilh John Arden Margaretta D’Arcy Peter Barnes Sebastian Barry Brendan Behan Dermot Bolger Edward Bond Bertolt Brecht Howard Brenton Anthony Burgess Simon Burke Jim Cartwright Caryl Churchill Complicite Noël Coward Lucinda Coxon Sarah Daniels Nick Darke Nick Dear Shelagh Delaney David Edgar David Eldridge Dario Fo Michael Frayn John Godber

Paul Godfrey David Greig John Guare Peter Handke David Harrower Jonathan Harvey Iain Heggie Declan Hughes Terry Johnson Sarah Kane Charlotte Keatley Barrie Keeffe Howard Korder Robert Lepage Doug Lucie Martin McDonagh John McGrath Terrence McNally David Mamet Patrick Marber Arthur Miller Mtwa, Ngema & Simon Tom Murphy Phyllis Nagy Peter Nichols Sean O’Brien Joseph O’Connor Joe Orton Louise Page Joe Penhall Luigi Pirandello Stephen Poliakoff

Franca Rame Mark Ravenhill Philip Ridley Reginald Rose Willy Russell Jean-Paul Sartre Sam Shepard Wole Soyinka Simon Stephens Shelagh Stephenson Peter Straughan C. P. Taylor Theatre Workshop Sue Townsend Judy Upton Timberlake Wertenbaker Roy Williams Snoo Wilson Victoria Wood

Methuen Drama Contemporary Dramatists include John Arden (two volumes) Arden & D’Arcy Peter Barnes (three volumes) Sebastian Barry Dermot Bolger Edward Bond (eight volumes) Howard Brenton (two volumes) Richard Cameron Jim Cartwright Caryl Churchill (two volumes) Sarah Daniels (two volumes) Nick Darke David Edgar (three volumes) David Eldridge Ben Elton Dario Fo (two volumes) Michael Frayn (three volumes) David Greig John Godber (four volumes) Paul Godfrey John Guare Lee Hall (two volumes) Peter Handke Jonathan Harvey (two volumes) Declan Hughes Terry Johnson (three volumes) Sarah Kane

Barrie Keeffe Bernard-Marie Koltès (two volumes) Franz Xaver Kroetz David Lan Bryony Lavery Deborah Levy Doug Lucie David Mamet (four volumes) Martin McDonagh Duncan McLean Anthony Minghella (two volumes) Tom Murphy (six volumes) Phyllis Nagy Anthony Neilsen (two volumes) Philip Osment Gary Owen Louise Page Stewart Parker (two volumes) Joe Penhall (two volumes) Stephen Poliakoff (three volumes) David Rabe (two volumes) Mark Ravenhill (two volumes) Christina Reid Philip Ridley Willy Russell Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt Ntozake Shange Sam Shepard (two volumes) Wole Soyinka (two volumes) Simon Stephens (two volumes) Shelagh Stephenson David Storey (three volumes)

Sue Townsend Judy Upton Michel Vinaver (two volumes) Arnold Wesker (two volumes) Michael Wilcox Roy Williams (three volumes) Snoo Wilson (two volumes) David Wood (two volumes) Victoria Wood

For a complete catalogue of Bloomsbury Methuen Drama titles write to: Methuen Drama 50 Bedford Square London WC1B 3DP or you can visit our website at: www.bloomsbury.com