Plays One Page 13

  LINDA. ’Fraid so.

  CAROL. Huh, I remember the time you pulled the tail off the mouse in the biology lab.

  LINDA. That was an accident. I remember you told me not to worry, it would grow another one, and you believed it.

  Both laugh. Then there is an embarrassed pause.

  CAROL. Don’t mention anything about cross-country running.

  LINDA. What cross-country running? We spent the whole time …

  CAROL. I said don’t mention it.

  LINDA. Mum’s the word.

  BETTY and ENID enter.

  CAROL (to LINDA. Put down). Funny how we haven’t got anything in common any more. (Then to BETTY:) Hello Mum, everything all right?

  ENID. Bleedin’ stupid nanas we’ve been.

  BETTY. Yes, we sorted it out.

  ENID. Take me the rest of my life to sort Bob out though. Thanks to you, madam.

  LINDA. He started it.

  ENID. And you, you had to retaliate didn’t you, couldn’t keep your trap shut.

  LINDA. When someone bellows in your lughole, ‘You filthy bleedin’ perverted …’

  ENID (cuts her short). Yes well, your father’s tolerance of you has been stretched to the limits.

  LINDA. So has mine.

  BETTY. Let’s all have a cup of tea.

  ENID. You’re on the road, Bet, it starts with cups of tea at meetings.

  LINDA. What you on about, Mum?

  ENID. Never you mind.

  BETTY. Tell her, Enid, she might know something about it.

  ENID. Here we go. Have you heard of the women’s peace camp at Greenham Common?

  LINDA. No, what’s it about?

  ENID. You must have. Everyone has.

  BETTY. Been on the telly, everything.

  LINDA. Yes, I have.

  ENID. See, that’s typical of her, contradiction is her middle name.

  LINDA. I wouldn’t choose a middle name with dick in it, thank you.

  ENID. Well, what did you say no for then?

  BETTY. Enid, don’t carry on at her.

  ENID. Typical Betty that is. (To LINDA:) Well you know something, Betty’s possessed by it.

  BETTY. I’m only interested.

  ENID. And I became the research worker. In fact, I reckon I should apply to the GLC for a grant.

  BETTY. Oh, Enid.

  ENID. What that means, is, I went to get the high class papers. What Betty was too embarrassed to.

  LINDA. What do you think about it?

  ENID. Me? Well, you know me, Linda, I think people what value their lives are worthless.

  LINDA. I weren’t aware you thought your life was insignificant.

  BETTY. Take no notice, Linda. Even Enid’s admitted to thinking.

  CAROL. What I want to know is why there are no men there?

  BETTY. Oh, I’d never thought about that.

  CAROL. Why does it have to be women only? That’s a bit sexist isn’t it, Linda?

  ENID. Oh, the men would only spoil it.

  LINDA. It was set up on women’s initiatives, Carol. There are very few things women can call their own in this society.

  BETTY. Because of the patriarchy.

  CAROL. The what?

  ENID. Ah, don’t you know what that means?

  CAROL. Do you?

  ENID. We know all about it and we know what the opposite is an’ all; matriarchy, and even though that’s been extinct for a few thousand years, me and Betty is raising it from the dead.

  BETTY. I wouldn’t say that, Enid.

  ENID. What would yer say then?

  BETTY. Well, it’s certainly buried round ’ere, but it ain’t exactly dead.

  LINDA (interested). What do you know about …

  ENID. All I know is, if I don’t get Atilla the Hun’s tea within the next two seconds I’m going to be a gonner meself. Now listen girl, don’t go leaving it another few thousand years before you condescend ter drop in again.

  LINDA. Mum, how can I wiv him? Why don’t you come and see me?

  ENID. I ain’t setting foot in no commie squat.

  BETTY. Oh, Enid …

  LINDA. Well, I’d sooner set foot in a piranha-infested swamp …

  BETTY. Hey, why don’t you two meet round here when Jim’s working late?

  ENID. Look at this eh, Carol. See what this lark’s set off. Betty’s now into bloody communes. Where will it end?

  LINDA. Sounds like a good idea to me.

  BETTY. Trouble is with you, Enid. You’re afraid of change.

  ENID. See! She’s even talking like one of them. Next we know she’ll be wearing an afghan.

  LINDA (eyebrows raised). Mum.

  ENID (smiles). It’s a dog’s life.

  BETTY. Wednesday evenings, Jim always works late.

  LINDA. What d’you say?

  ENID. I reckon it’s like a bloody James Bond film just ter see me own daughter. Shall we wear a red carnation?

  LINDA (gets up to go). Meet you by the lift at seven … I’ve got to go now.

  CAROL. How are you getting home?

  LINDA. Bus. (Slight pause. She smiles.) It’s a bit cold for a cross-country run.

  CAROL. I’ll give you a lift if you want.

  LINDA. Ta. See yer …

  ENID. Take care, love.

  CAROL. Bye Mum, Enid.

  LINDA and CAROL go out.

  BETTY. Listen, Enid, we ain’t ever going to get in this sort of mess again, right?

  ENID. From now on whatever spills outta Jim or Bob’s mouth we take no notice.

  BETTY. We make up our own minds.

  ENID (pause). Your Carol seemed a bit quiet.

  BETTY. I don’t really think she’s very happy.

  ENID. But she’s got everything she wanted. She thinks she’s got problems, could’ve turned out like our Linda.

  BETTY. It was strange seeing them both together. Linda seems so much younger, so full of life … I don’t know …

  ENID (pause). God, sometimes I could kill Bob.

  BETTY. Huh, you’re always claiming that when they made him they broke the mould.

  ENID. It was obviously cracked already, if you ask me. It don’t do going on about it but today, Betty, he was out of order … really out of order.

  BETTY. They must really rub each other up the wrong way.

  ENID. He’s only got ter ketch sight of her and he starts up. An’ yer know something, Betty, it was really good of her ter come over here, Christ knows how long this carry-on would have lasted. (Pause.) Come to think, how the hell did she know about it?

  BETTY. Well, don’t look at me.

  ENID. An’ Bob wouldn’t ’ave told her, that’s fer sure.

  BETTY. Strange like, the bond between mother and daughter, yer know, Enid.

  ENID. Oh Gawd, Betty, don’t go all psychic on me an’ all. That’s all I need.

  Scene Eleven

  12 December 1982. Four a.m. LINDA and FIONA dressed in dark clothing have just completed spraying a sex shop.

  LINDA (stands back to admire her work. Makes a gesture with her hand). Bellissimo.

  FIONA. Come on let’s get outta here.

  LINDA. What do you think of it?

  FIONA. Wonderful. Come on, make sure you’ve not left any evidence.

  LINDA. Oh yeah, didn’t I tell you? I’ve sprayed, ‘I did it really’ on your back.

  FIONA. Very funny. Leave the can and let’s get out.

  They start walking.

  LINDA. Just as well you let me do it. We’d have been here till the bloody shop opened, the polemic you wanted to inscribe.

  FIONA. Save your breath. We might get a few hours’ kip if we’re lucky.

  LINDA. You know something, your spelling is a discredit to your sex.

  FIONA. As long as that’s the only thing, I’m laughing.

  Both smile and FIONA puts her arm round LINDA.

  FIONA. Er, oh. (She lets her arm drop.)

  LINDA. Tomorrow’s bacon has made an appearance.


  A POLICE CONSTABLE enters.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. Good morning, ladies.

  FIONA. Morning, officer.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. What, may I ask, are you two girls doing out alone this late or early should I say?

  FIONA. We were er … just admiring Hackney’s architecture silhouetted against the dawn skyline.

  LINDA (mumbles). Huh, ketch me admiring no phallic symbols I don’t think.

  POLICE CONSTABLE (looking at watch). What dawn?

  FIONA. Moon. Against the pale glow of the moon.

  LINDA. Winter solstice.

  FIONA stifles a laugh.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. Been to a party then?

  FIONA. Yes.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. Not thinking of driving I hope.

  LINDA (mimes turning a steering wheel). No, just pretending.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. Don’t try and be funny with me, Miss.

  FIONA. We left our car. We thought it best to walk.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. Very advisable. Not on a yellow line I trust.

  FIONA. No a private road.

  POLICE CONSTABLE. Glad to hear it. Good morning.

  POLICE CONSTABLE goes out.

  LINDA. Morning all. Have a nice day.

  FIONA. Shush.

  LINDA (warmly). No officer, yes officer, we parked our nonexistent car up a lamp post, officer.

  FIONA. Tut, Winter Solstice.

  LINDA. Dawn skyline.

  FIONA. When we get round the corner we run right? Cos he’ll be about to view your handiwork any minute now.

  LINDA. S’okay. It’s open to the public.

  FIONA. You’re so cool.

  LINDA. He won’t even notice it. Thick as shit. (Then.) For fuck’s sake run.

  Scene Twelve

  Later the same day. BETTY’s living-room. BETTY and IVY. JIM enters.

  BETTY. Jim?

  JIM (irritated). What is it, Betty? I’m late for work.

  BETTY. Have you … I mean, would it … ?

  JIM. Spit it out.

  BETTY. I was wondering …

  JIM. For Christ’s sake, woman, I haven’t got all day …

  BETTY…. if I could lend ten quid off next week’s housekeeping.

  JIM. What? Now?

  BETTY. Oh no next Christmas. What d’you think?

  JIM. For what?

  BETTY. Shopping.

  JIM. Shopping? Betty, my love, it’s Sunday. The poxy shops are shut.

  BETTY. Not all of them.

  JIM. You never go shopping on a Sunday.

  BETTY. Well … I was thinking of popping out … for some fresh air.

  JIM. Things are bad, Betty, but they ain’t that bad. Fresh air don’t cost a tenner.

  BETTY. I meant … fresh air, not a lung-load of lorry fumes …

  JIM. What? Where have you got to go …

  BETTY. Er … Our Carol’s …

  JIM. They got an air filter in Islington then?

  BETTY. Please Jim …

  JIM. That don’t cost ten quid.

  BETTY. Five then, could I have five … ?

  JIM. Blimey, Betty, since when did it cost a fiver to git to Carol’s? And anyhow if they want you to babysit they can give you a lift there and back.

  BETTY. Jim, I would like five quid.

  JIM. I daresay we all would. (He looks at his watch.) But not until you tell me why and you’d better be quick about it.

  BETTY. I’m your wife.

  IVY. For God’s sake, Betty, tell him, stand up fer yerself.

  BETTY. Keep outta this, Mum.

  JIM. Don’t tell me let me guess. You both been invited to the Palace. (Pause.) Well, I gotta go.

  BETTY stands between him and the door.

  BETTY. I want to get a cheap-day return somewhere.

  JIM. You’ll be getting a one-way ticket to the funny farm if you don’t make sense in ten seconds flat.

  BETTY. I just thought I’d go for an outing.

  JIM. Yeah, I grasped that much but WHERE?

  BETTY (pause. Mumbles). Newbury.

  JIM. Who bury? That rings a bell. Betty a joke’s a joke. Now, what do you really want to do?

  BETTY. Really, I thought I’d go …

  JIM. Just knock these daft notions outta yer head once an’ fer all. God Almighty, where did you git that idea?

  BETTY. I got this letter inviting me.

  JIM. Oh, how nice fer you. What did it say. Dear sister Betty, We hear you are a genuine East Ender what actually trod the same pavements as the Pankhursts …

  BETTY. Jim!

  JIM. Don’t you Jim me. You’ll be right here when I git back. D’you hear me, and we’ll sort it out then. I can’t waste no more time gabbing about it now.

  BETTY. Please …

  JIM. No way, Betty. No way. Gawd woman, I know you ain’t bin hundred per cent lately but it’s about time you tried to act normal.

  He goes out.

  BETTY (to IVY). Why did you have to blurt it out?

  IVY. He wouldn’t have given it to you anyway.

  BETTY. No thanks to you. The one time it would have bin welcome and you didn’t open your mouth and take sides.

  IVY. Waste of time. Git more results reasoning with a brick wall, anyhow I got the money.

  BETTY. I can’t take it off you.

  IVY. Yes you can. And you will, girl. (She gives her two five-pound notes.)

  BETTY. Ta, Mum, I wish you’d come with me.

  IVY. It’s brass monkeys out there. It’d finish me off. Shame Enid can’t git her act together.

  BETTY. I s’pose I’d better git me stuff together.

  IVY. Whatever you do, git a move on love.

  BETTY (from the kitchen where she is preparing a packed lunch). Mum, did you ever get fed up?

  IVY. Course I did! Why d’you think I had a different man every week.

  BETTY (sneers). Humph.

  IVY. You never forgave me for that one time, did you?

  BETTY. I forgot that incident a long time ago. But you’re right, Mum, I never forgave you. I’m sorry, honest. By the way, I’ve borrowed one of your thermal vests.

  Pause.

  IVY. I was on the game, Betty. It was the only way to get money, but I’m not making excuses, other women seemed to manage. That night, before you came home and he came round to court yer, I’d just shown a fella out and he got the wrong idea. Believe me, because this is the truth. I know I can’t call it rape because I was in no position to, everyone would have laughed at me, but I did everything I could to stop him. Betty, it was totally against my will. He proved stronger than me.

  BETTY. Why didn’t you tell me at the time?

  IVY. I tried to.

  The doorbell rings.

  BETTY (crossing to the door). Oh, Gawd what now?

  IVY. Don’t worry, it’s probably the Sunday Times come to do an exclusive interview.

  BETTY (opening door). Carol, what are you doing here?

  CAROL enters, looking as though she has been crying.

  CAROL. Oh, were you going out?

  BETTY. Well … I …

  IVY. Yes she is.

  BETTY. Did you want something, I mean special?

  CAROL. No … no … It doesn’t matter.

  IVY. Is Darrel with you?

  CAROL. No. No.

  BETTY. What’s he doing?

  CAROL. His nut. If you must know, we’ve run out of Alpen.

  Well it was the third time this year but the way he went on … (She is on the verge of tears.) Oh … Mum …

  BETTY (takes CAROL’s hand then starts to take her own coat off). Come on, tell me what happened.

  IVY. Git that coat back on, girl … You can both sort it out on the train. (To CAROL:) Your mother is going to do her bit fer peace. I suggest you go with her while that husband of yours does his pieces in bits, ha ha let him sweat.

  CAROL. But what about Joe-Joe?

  BETTY. About time Darrel learnt to look after his son for a whole day, don’t you think?

 
; CAROL (pause). Yes I suppose it bloody well is. All right then.

  BETTY. Good. (Slight pause.) You know, I think the last thing we did together was buy the material for your wedding dress.

  IVY. And it still will be if you two don’t get a move on and stop jawing.

  The doorbell rings.

  CAROL. Oh, God help me, that’s probably Darrel.

  BETTY (crossing to the door). High time you got your own back then. (She points to the kitchen.) There’s a tin of tomatoes in the cupboard. (She opens the door. ENID enters with a suitcase.) Enid, you changed your mind?

  IVY. Gawd, Enid, that must be some packed lunch. What you got in there, half a horse’s carcass?

  ENID. Didn’t you know, Ivy. I just stabbed the rag and bone man to death.

  BETTY. Be serious, Enid.

  ENID. Just landed the chip pan over bully boy Bob’s bonce didn’t I.

  BETTY. Is he all right?

  ENID. Talk sense. When has he ever bin all right?

  CAROL. Is he badly hurt?

  ENID. Made no difference. No sense. No feeling.

  BETTY (looking at suitcase). Here, you’re not planning to stay down there?

  ENID. Do me a favour. I ain’t going down there.

  IVY. So, what you got in there, Bob or a dented chip pan?

  CAROL. She’s joking. You’re coming with us, aren’t you?

  ENID. Am I hell!

  BETTY. Where the hell are you going then?

  ENID. Bognor.

  BETTY. Bognor! Enid, it’s the middle of bloody December.

  ENID. I didn’t have a stand-up fight with super gut so I could wallow about in mud all day.

  IVY. You won’t notice the difference on that beach.

  BETTY (to ENID). That’s just typical of you that is. We set this up to do something important fer a change but you, oh no not you. You take the opportunity to enjoy yourself.

  CAROL. Don’t be too hasty. Who ever enjoyed Bognor?

  IVY (gently). Knock me down with a feather. Our Carol’s made a joke. Quick, write it in your diary.

  CAROL. Thank you, Nan.

  ENID. Depends what you mean by important. (To BETTY:) So you go down there for a day. Right, fine. Come back. Nothing’s changed. Big deal.

  BETTY. So you go down to Bognor for a day. That’s really earth-shattering, I must say.

  ENID. Not fer a day. I’m going ter stay wiv me sister.

  BETTY. Pardon?

  ENID. I’ve left that stupid big wally.

  BETTY. But Enid … Enid, what about the children?

  ENID. The children? The children are practically fucking geriatric.