GARY
seventeen (m)
FRANCIS
late twenties (m)
LOUISE
mid-twenties (f)
MANDY
fifteen / sixteen (f)
MARK
fifty (m)
Osama The Hero was initially written and developed as part of Paines Plough's Wild Lunch 2004. It was first produced by the Hampstead Theatre on 5 May 2005 with the following cast:
MANDY, Christine Bottomley
GARY, Tom Brooke
FRANCIS, Ian Dunn
MARK, Michael Mears
LOUISE, Rachel Sanders
Director Anthony Clark
Designer Patrick Connellan
Lighting Designer James Farncombe
Sound Designer John Leonard
GARY, FRANCIS and LOUISE, MANDY and MARK. GARY talks directly to the audience, FRANCIS and LOUISE to each other, MANDY and MARK to the audience as though talking to camera.
GARY: I'm not stupid.
FRANCIS: Dirty fucking pervert.
LOUISE: Francis –
FRANCIS: Dirty. Fucking. Pervert.
LOUISE: Look, Francis
FRANCIS: Do you like perverts?
LOUISE: No, of course I –
FRANCIS: Do you like dirt?
LOUISE: I don't like dirt.
FRANCIS: Then why are we having this discussion?
GARY: I'm definitely not stupid. People say I am, but that's probably a jealous instinct. If you don't understand something you just become jealous of it. I don't understand myself sometimes. But I'm not jealous of myself.
Sorry, that's confused me.
LOUISE: We have to have this discussion.
FRANCIS: No we don't.
LOUISE: We do.
FRANCIS: We don't.
LOUISE: We do.
FRANCIS: No we don't.
LOUISE: We do, because –
FRANCIS: Why do we?
LOUISE: Because, we do because, I'm telling you why, actually –
FRANCIS: Why do we have to have this discussion?
LOUISE: if you'd listen, listen, if you'd listen Francis, I'm telling you why –
FRANCIS: Well tell me fucking why, then.
LOUISE: I am telling you fucking why, if you'd listen, if you'd please listen I'm telling you fucking why
GARY: I once imagined a world where you could buy a synthetic form of love which was inserted into the anus and you could just buy this, everyone could just buy this and be in love if they wanted and it was a positive, when you think about it it was a positive thing, but then I couldn't remember whether it was something I'd seen on TV and maybe I hadn't imagined it after all. I'm thinking of becoming a terrorist.
LOUISE: We have to have this discussion because you're likely to get yourself into trouble again.
FRANCIS: I'm older than you, Louise, and please don't say things like that, because that's just really fucking stupid.
LOUISE: You're likely to go off.
FRANCIS: You're not Nelson Mandela, Louise
LOUISE: You're likely to get some idea in your head
FRANCIS: Kofi Annan, you're not Kofi Annan, Louise
LOUISE: and someone is likely to get hurt because of your brain.
FRANCIS: And what about you? What about your brain?
LOUISE: What about me?
FRANCIS: Are you going to help me or not?
LOUISE: Are you going to calm down.
FRANCIS: I'm calm, I'm calm, this is calm…
GARY: I watched things on telly, American things, and I'd think that's what I wanna do, I wanna be a pathologist, or I wanna go skiing and then the programme would end and I'd turn and look at my mum and in my heart I knew that she was sitting in her own urine again and I'd have to admit
FRANCIS: I'm not going to hurt anyone.
GARY: I'd get a funny feeling
FRANCIS: I'm not going to use violence
GARY: I have to admit that I'd get a funny feeling in the pits of my stomach
FRANCIS: I'm not going to be a bad person.
GARY: and then I would feel bad.
FRANCIS: I'm going to kick the fucking shit out of him.
Pause.
MANDY: and, for us it's not really about the money
MARK: or the fame
MANDY: or the glamour and the
MARK: the cruises
MANDY: the Oscars, the adulation, it's not really about that ‘stuff’
MARK: record contracts
MANDY: it's more about saying
MARK: signings, jets, dinners with religious leaders
MANDY: saying something to people out there
MARK: wealth and glory
MANDY: saying something to ordinary people, just
MARK: because that's what we are, ordinary is
MANDY: that's what we have is an ordinary
MARK: to be honest
MANDY: our appeal
MARK: if that's what we have, if appeal is
MANDY: oh we do
MARK: oh we definitely do, yes, alright
MANDY: we do
MARK: we do have that, that appeal, but the point is
MANDY: the point we'd like to make
MARK: is that we are just ordinary, an ordinary
MANDY: we sit in front of the television and eat
MARK: chips
MANDY: fruit
MARK: fruit, yes, though sometimes, but yes, we sit there with our little boy
MANDY: little Armistice
MARK: we sit there with our little Armistice
MANDY: beautiful little
MARK: beautiful little Armistice, yes, just like any ordinary couple anywhere in any world
MANDY: and the point we'd like to make is that it's easy to look at us and think
MARK: you know
MANDY: look at them
MARK: envy
MANDY: well…
MARK: you know, look at them
MANDY: but we are you
MARK: and that's why we'd like to be a beacon
MANDY: a beacon of hope and dreams that shines out across this world and says
MARK: and says
MANDY: and says it's possible.
MARK: If it's possible for us,
MANDY: If it's possible for us,
MARK: It's possible for you
MANDY: It's possible for you too, to be like us.
Pause.
MARK: Though not all of you.
MANDY: No
MARK: because
MANDY: no, not all of you
MARK: that would not be possible
MANDY: not everyone can be like us
MARK: that wouldn't be right.
MANDY: at all
MARK: And there's nothing wrong with being you.
MANDY: Fuck, no.
MARK: Don't say fuck, darling.
MANDY: Sorry.
MARK: Which is the message we'd like to
MANDY: Sorry about that.
MARK: which is the message we'd like to give.
MANDY: I am sorry.
MARK: It's okay to be yourself but use us as an example. If you want to.
MANDY: Yes.
MARK: Yes.
MANDY: Yes.
Pause.
MARK: Can I touch you?
Beat.
MANDY: You can't say that.
MARK: Sorry. Sorry.
Can I? Can I though? Please?
GARY: I'm the sort of person that likes to think of my weaknesses as my strengths.
I heard someone say that on television once and I thought that's good, I'll have that, that's good.
MARK: Just let me touch your sleeve.
MANDY: No. No touching.
GARY: I see what's going on, I think things through.
MARK: I can't stand this feeling, it's like someone has injected my body with an extra two pints of blood.
MANDY: I'll go.
MARK: Please don't go.
GARY: Bins have been blowing up on our estate this summer and that's not me. Just so you know, just so you know and are aware that that's not me. I'm walking home suddenly there's this pop, like a twenty foot bag of crisps being stood on, millisecond of intense silence, rush of air. Twenty feet away there is a fire in what's left of a bin, which is now nothing but twisting snakes of metal attached to the ground and I'm looking around thinking who's done that and were they deliberately trying to get me and then I notice the first twitch. Second twitch. Third twitch. Spin round, the entire estate, curtains twitching, every window, curtains twitching at me and for a second I see the view from thirty or forty different perspectives, looking down at me, suddenly I'm looking down at me from thirty or forty different perspectives at me twenty feet away from a burning bin and I can feel them all thinking one thought, one thought in all their brain, ‘him’ they're thinking, ‘him’.
FRANCIS: What do you think of an old man inviting a young girl into his garage?
LOUISE: She's not a young girl.
FRANCIS: She's younger than you.
LOUISE: She's younger than you.
GARY: I have a fantasy where I ask a girl out. She says yes. I take her to Heathrow airport and we spend the entire day watching the planes taking off and it's a beautiful day, the sun's shining, she's laughing at my jokes, I think she has blonde hair, but I could be wrong. And what's strange is that when it ends I often feel that an organ in my stomach has disappeared. Funny, eh.
I'm not stupid.
FRANCIS: What do you think of an old man walking out on his wife of twenty-two years?
LOUISE: I think you're getting angry.
FRANCIS: What do you think of an old man walking out on his wife of twenty-two years and inviting an underage girl into his garage? Someone no-one likes.
LOUISE: I like her.
FRANCIS: Not too bright, vulnerable, what do you think of that?
LOUISE: I think you need to get out, get a job, get moving.
FRANCIS: What do you think of that?
LOUISE: sitting in here watching
FRANCIS: What do you think of that?
LOUISE: curtain twitching, it's not healthy, that's –
FRANCIS: WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?
LOUISE: I THINK IT'S BAD!
FRANCIS: Thank you.
Thank you.
LOUISE: But that doesn't mean you have to start losing control.
FRANCIS: that your answer to everything, get a job? money, status, worlds falling to pieces, terrorists and fucking perverts, you've changed, Louise, it's just a office job but you've really changed. You're different.
LOUISE: I'm not different.
FRANCIS: You're gonna leave me.
LOUISE: Francis, –
FRANCIS: I don't care, leave me, I don't –
LOUISE: Francis –
FRANCIS: Please don't leave me, Louise.
LOUISE: I'm not –
FRANCIS: Where's your garage?
Beat.
Have you got a garage, Louise?
MARK: I like your shoes.
MANDY: Don't say shoes, darling.
MARK: Sorry.
GARY: I never know when things are funny, so what I do is I wait until someone else starts laughing and then I join in, quick as I can, hope I haven't got in too late because there's nothing worse than being left out in the cold with a laugh hanging. People laugh a lot nowadays. I think that's fear.
LOUISE: I'm not answering that question.
FRANCIS: It's a simple question, where's your garage, Louise.
LOUISE: I told you, I'm not answering –
FRANCIS: Where's your garage?
LOUISE: I haven't got a garage.
FRANCIS: Where's my garage?
LOUISE: You haven't got a ga–
FRANCIS: I have got a garage. I have got a garage, Louise.
LOUISE: (Beat.) It's burnt out.
FRANCIS: Like all the other garages on this estate except for one.
LOUISE: He didn't burn out the –
FRANCIS: I know he didn't burn out the garage
LOUISE: kids or something, he wasn't here when –
FRANCIS: I know he wasn't here when, that's the point, that's the point I'm making, he wasn't here, he's new and yet he's got a garage?
LOUISE: He pays for it!
FRANCIS: You seen his wife wandering around? Wandering around Louise, looking for him, while he's in the fucking garage. Imagine what it's like to realise you lived with a pervert all these years and then they give him the garage…
LOUISE: He pays for it.
FRANCIS: Dollars. That all that matters? Dollars and fucking perverts?
GARY: Examples of weakness that are also a strength; my non-acceptance of the world. I do not accept what I'm told. I do not believe things just because I've been told things. A strength because, because I get to question things and a weakness because it singles me out as different from them. Further back? You want to go further back…?
MANDY: and in the past there has been great media attention on us, on our family
MARK: Little Armistice.
MANDY: beautiful little
MARK: And people want to know
MANDY: They do, they're very curious.
MARK: they want to know how he's doing and is he taking his first steps,
MANDY: teeth come through
MARK: was it a cold or chicken pox, and you know, we can't just ignore people
MANDY: The fan base.
MARK: though we'd like to sometimes…
MANDY: No we wouldn't.
MARK: Well, sometimes
MANDY: Well, we wouldn't because we love our public.
MARK: Yes, of course, but –
MANDY: We love them and we understand so we wouldn't.
MARK: Alright we wouldn't then.
MANDY: But sometimes we do wish that the media would back off.
MARK: Which is all I was saying.
MANDY: No, not really, but yes we do
MARK: we do
MANDY: we do sometimes, don't we
MARK: we do sometimes ask for our privacy
MANDY: And it's good when that's respected.
MARK: And it's bad when it's not.
MANDY: But it's good when it is.
MARK: Because sometimes I just wish I could kiss you.
MANDY: (Nervous laugh.) That's a little…
MARK: Without the public, I mean, you know, but sometimes I sit alone and I close my eyes and I imagine what it would be like to brush my lips against her hair, to breath in the air that was once trapped in the fibres of her skin, to take the moisture from her breath deep into my lungs and eat it, digest it, and part of me feels like cutting a piece out of myself.
Beat.
MANDY: But most of the time we're very happy with the media. We think you do a great job.
Beat.
MARK: Yes.
GARY: This one boy comes in wearing trainers, new trainers, really nice trainers, showing off his trainers to the entire class, not a friend but not an enemy so for me that's a friend, they break his legs, getting the trainers, they break his legs didn't have to, misunderstood the complexities of the social structure and his place within it, I remember sitting for an hour looking at my trainers trying to understand the complexities of the social structure and my place within it. No idea. No idea at all. On the way home Mum stopped me in the street and asked me for some spare change. Breath like pickled death. Gave her some, went home, had fish fingers and pop tarts.
FRANCIS: Dad left me that garage.
GARY: Points of view, it's all about points of view; killing two thousand people's not wrong, it just all depends on what two thousand people it is.
Said that in maths, got detention, said it in media studies and I got an A; she thought I was quoting Orson Welles. Said it in games and I was asked to leave the gym. Teacher looked like he might cry. Didn't say it again.
FRANCIS: Dad left me that garage.
LOUISE: I know!
FRANCIS: It's nothing now.
LOUISE: I know.
FRANCIS: Burnt out piece of shit.
LOUISE: I know.
FRANCIS: I hate this place. But it's our place. It's our fucking place, Louise.
Pause.
(Singing.) Every breath you take…
LOUISE: Francis…
FRANCIS: (Singing.) Every move you make…
LOUISE: Stop it Francis…
FRANCIS: (Singing.) Every bond you break, every step you take…
LOUISE: Shut the fuck up.
FRANCIS: I'll be watching you.
LOUISE: SHUT UP.
FRANCIS: That's a beautiful song, Louise. Dad used to sing that. He used to stand there looking down at you and sing that entire song holding my hand, he'd be holding my hand and we'd both be looking at you and he'd sing every single bar of that song to you.
Copy of Loot in your bag.
Beat.
LOUISE: Just looking.
FRANCIS: What for?
LOUISE: Computer.
FRANCIS: Yeah?
LOUISE: Yeah.
FRANCIS: Really?
LOUISE: (Beat.) Yeah.
FRANCIS: I love you, Louise.
LOUISE: I love you, Francis.
GARY: We do a project on crimes against humanity. I bring in a copy of Hello magazine. They're laughing. I don't understand. Did my presentation, celebrities, breast implants, super rich mansions, quite impassioned, I may have spat once or twice, accidentally and at the end of it I finish and I look up and they're all staring at me. Just staring. Silent.
I remember going to Alton Towers with my mum and that was nice, she didn't drink, not one drink for the entire day. Only thing was she kept putting me on the children's rides, fifteen years old and sitting on a pink elephant with a top hat.
Last week I'm standing outside Dixons watching the news through the shop window and I found that even without the sound I knew exactly what to feel because my body had become conditioned to its emotional structure which was embarrassing because I'm always in tears by the end. It was raining. No-one noticed.
Remember when I was eleven going to church, every week, on my own just going in, but I soon stopped. I think I made them uncomfortable. Mediocrity; that's another example of a weakness that's also a strength. I'm fairly average at everything so that means I manage to survive, but it also means I'm fairly average at everything.
MANDY suddenly laughs extravagantly. MARK realises and joins in, slightly unsure. GARY is about to laugh but gets it wrong, misses the moment and remains silent.
MANDY: Well, that's a very interesting question, but let me answer that first by saying that we believe it's important to find a sense of purpose.
MARK: Absolutely
MANDY: Does that answer your question?
MARK: A sense of direction.
MANDY: Maybe?
MARK: Because without a sense of direction
MANDY: sense of purpose
MARK: What have you really got?
MANDY: Your family, yes
MARK: oh, yes, definitely
MANDY: which is more important to us
MARK: family
MANDY: than anything in the world
MARK: little Armistice
MANDY: anything for that boy
MARK: everything, all of it
MANDY: just to save one of his kidneys
MARK: if we needed too, yes everything
MANDY: without a thought
MARK: if it was absolutely necessary
MANDY: without a heartbeat's hesitation
MARK: because you can live on one.
MANDY: (Beat.) What?
MARK: one kidney, you can live on one, is all I'm
MANDY: We'd give everything.
MARK: Yes, yes, everything, but you can buy them for
MANDY: we'd give everything.
MARK: Everything, yes, definitely, everything.
FRANCIS: We can sit here in this and fester or we can aspire, Louise.
MARK: She has the most perfect breasts and if only I could touch them you could shoot me in the back of the head and watch my brains spill out of my face and onto the pavement and I wouldn't mind.
I'm in love with you.
MANDY: Cunt.
MARK: Don't say cunt, darling.
MANDY: Fucking cunt.
MARK: Armistice has a beautiful smile…
MANDY: Beautiful – you fucking – beautiful, yes he does have a beautiful smile.
GARY: Find a hero, a living hero, presentation on a contemporary hero, but it has to be someone who's truly heroic, someone who's an inspiration to millions, a determined individual who'll sacrifice wealth, life and happiness for what they believe in and I scrabble around, I try, I try really hard, no-one, nothing, celebrities, politicians, sportspersons, but to be honest there's nothing, there's nothing, there's nothing and suddenly I find one: BANG! Inspiration, lightning bolt, epiphany, perfect sense. I'm standing in front of the class and I read out the title of my project:
‘Osama the Hero.’
FRANCIS: Do you want to aspire, Louise?
LOUISE: Yes.
FRANCIS: Is that what you want?
LOUISE: Yes.
FRANCIS: You're a very beautiful woman.
LOUISE: No, I'm not.
FRANCIS: You are.
LOUISE: I'm not.
FRANCIS: No, you're not, but you are. This is what we have, here, each other. This is our life. This is what we know.
LOUISE: Yes.
FRANCIS: Is there a point to trying to change that?
Louise?
LOUISE: No.
FRANCIS: No.
Please don't talk to me about garages. D'you know why he's put a door in the garage?
LOUISE: To get in and out –
FRANCIS: FUCKING HELL, LOUISE, HE CAN GET IN AND OUT THROUGH THE GARAGE DOOR, THE FUCKING BIG DOOR AT THE FRONT, IF THAT'S –
Pause.
He's put a door in that door, the big door, he's put a little door in the big door so he doesn't have to open the big door and no-one can see inside.
MANDY: We like our privacy.
MARK: Yes, of course.
MANDY: It's an important issue.
MARK: As is love.
MANDY: Respect is important.
MARK: But love is more important.
MANDY: Well, respect is –
MARK: just let me touch your shoes, the soles of your fucking shoes, I don't care, just something
MANDY: respect is
MARK: just something
MANDY: respect is
MARK: just something
MANDY: respect is
MARK: just something
GARY: And I'm telling them, I'm telling them, I'm telling them about a boy, as a young man, twenty-two years old rejecting his family's vast personal fortune, three billion dollars and off into the mountains of Afghanistan to fight the communists, but really, not fight in the way our leaders fight, but really fight and get wounded, not fight like a president or a prime minister, sending boys off to slaughter each other while you eat in the best restaurants and go to concerts and think about what you'll spend your money on when you retire, but go out there with a gun and fight yourself, bleeding, injured, I tell them of a quiet man who rarely laughs but often smiles, who lives simply, eats simply, dresses simply, according to those who have met him a man of impeccable manners who is known never to lie, I explain how despite being on the run in one of the world's poorest regions this man is so well loved that no-one has turned him in to claim the fifty million dollar reward, I explain how this man survived a war against the greatest powers on earth with only a few hundred fighters and little resources and then I look up. And I see the faces. Staring at me. They're just staring at me. Worse than before. This time. This time. This time I know I've really done something.
FRANCIS: What your father did for you.
LOUISE: Don't, Francis.
FRANCIS: He went to prison for you.
LOUISE: Please don't.
FRANCIS: Alright, I won't, but he did, he did do that and you know that he did that, he went to prison to keep you safe and you're just going to let a pervert walk around?
LOUISE: Francis –
FRANCIS: Just walk around as if nothing fucking matters? As if we have no morals?
GARY: Sometimes I get visions of the future. Sometimes I can see myself aged forty, bald, fat, and drunk, thinking of me aged seventeen and the me aged forty is crying and the me aged seventeen is laughing and my head begins to hurt because I'm not sure which one's real.
FRANCIS: If you think I'm going to let that happen you've got another think coming.
MARK: One touch, one touch, of your ear, your arm, the back of your hand, what can it mean to you? it means everything to me; I'm a fifty year-old man and look what you're doing to me.
MANDY: and as long as people can look at us
MARK: I'm grovelling, you've got me grovelling
MANDY: as long as people can look at us and feel
MARK: grovelling in my own shit
MANDY: like they know us and feel secure
MARK: I feel like I've fallen asleep and woken up in my own sick
MANDY: darling, as long they see the family unit
MARK: your hair or your, or your finger or your cheek, I could touch your cheek
MANDY: us with Armistice
MARK: I could touch your chair or your chin or
MANDY: That beautiful boy
MARK: or
MANDY: Alright!
Beat.
MARK: What?
MANDY: One touch.
MARK: Really?
MANDY: One. Just one.
Beat. Very slowly he reaches out his hand. He cups her breast. She stands it as long as she can and then pushes his hand away. He stares at her, hurt, and continues to do so.
GARY: Bins blow up, more bins and always near me and you can feel them thinking. I consider being a priest, a lighthouse keeper, a policeman, a taxidermist, a soldier, a tramp, an undertaker, a dancer in a gay bar, a footballer, a tube driver, a drug dealer, a surfer, an accountant, a carer for a person of disability, a lorry driver and a Buddhist, but I find myself wondering how much it costs to get to Afghanistan because maybe then
FRANCIS: This is our place.
GARY: maybe then
FRANCIS: We live here
GARY: maybe then
FRANCIS: We've always lived here
GARY: maybe then
FRANCIS: We always will live here.
Won't we.
LOUISE: Yes.
GARY: maybe then I'd have something to believe in.
MARK: (Looking back to the audience.) which of course was how we felt when little Armistice died.
Beat.
MANDY: What?
MARK: Little Armistice
MANDY: Little…
MARK: yes, little Armistice, little Armistice darling, who died of only one kidney
MANDY: little Armistice isn't
MARK: yes, yes he is darling, he's dead
MANDY: dead?
MARK: poor little dead Armistice
MANDY: no, that's not
MARK: dead, yes, dead, and we cried so hard because he fought so hard, brave little, but he only had his one little kidney
MANDY: One…
MARK: one lonely little kidney, couldn't survive
MANDY: his
MARK: poor little dead Armistice who died of loneliness and neglect
MANDY: no…
MARK: Yes. Yes he did.
And we would like to thank everyone
MANDY: everyone
MARK: everyone, the public, for their support
MANDY: everyone
(Almost crying.) everyone for their support.
She gets up and leaves.
MARK: M –?
Mandy
GARY: because word has got around and I can feel…
I can feel the hate.
Oh dear.
FRANCIS: I'm going
to fucking
kill someone
There is a massive explosion.
Inside the now burnt out and blown up garage. GARY sits on a charred chair, hands tied behind his back, gaffer tape over his mouth. FRANCIS stands, staring at him. Walks around him, behind him. Pulls out a single white-bread sandwich in clingfilm. Eats it, thinking. Folds up the clingfilm and puts it back in his pocket. Sits around in front of GARY on a box. Stares at him. Somehow, through his fear, GARY manages to feel embarrassed and looks away.
FRANCIS: D'you know who I am?
No answer.
Oi.
Oi.
Oi, you.
S'alright, I'm just asking you a question.
GARY looks at him.
D'you know who I am?
GARY shakes his head.
Seriously, d'you know who I am?
GARY shakes his head.
Seriously, d'you know who I am? Have you heard of me?
GARY shakes his head.
Look this isn't –
I'm not gonna –
I'm just asking if you've heard of me, that's all.
GARY shakes his head.
Don't shake your head coz that's just winding me up.
GARY doesn't know what to do.
I'm just asking if you've heard of me.
Now, don't give me the answer you think I want, because the answer you think I want is not the answer I want. Okay? It's not a test, I'm not gonna hurt you, it's not loaded, I'm just asking you a simple question d'you know who I am.
Do you know who I am?
GARY doesn't know what to do. Eventually he shakes his head.
What you mean, you don't know who I am? How do you not know who I am? So you've got no idea?
GARY shakes his –
Don't shake your head.
So you've got no idea who I am?
Beat.
No-one ever said anything to you about me?
Beat.
I know who you are, a piece of shit like you, I know all about you and your little presentation, yes, that's right, we know all about that. We have ears, Gary. And you're saying you haven't even got a fucking clue who I am, like no-one on this estate has ever said a word to you about me, ever?
Pause. GARY nods.
So no-one on this estate ever talks about me, no-one ever –
Beat.
You see what happens when you give the answers to questions that you think people want? You get it wrong. You get it wrong, Gary. Honesty is always the best policy.
Pause.
D'you know who my dad was?
Pause. GARY nods.
Whose dad, Gary? Whose fucking dad?
No answer.
I'm gonna tell you a story about my dad. This one time I brought home a dog, scruffy little mongrel, half staf, my dad never trusted stafs, I'm about eight, never ever trusted stafs, found him up the field, brought him home and my dad says – that's a staf: that's a staf, that'll turn – but I begged and begged to keep that dog and he says – alright – because he loved me, Gary – alright, you can keep that dog but if anything happens – and he didn't finish his sentence, just if anything happens and that's it. Week later that dog tears into my sister, tears into her, you can still see the scar, you ask her, in here on her upper arm, you ask her, blood…blood…takes her up the hospital, carries her up the hospital, and I'm at home, hours going by, fucking shitting, dog as well, both shitting it. He comes home, says nothing. Gets the dog, gets me, gets a knife. Goes upstairs. Into the bathroom. Dog in the bath, shaking. Takes my hand, puts it on the dog's jugular, says – feel that pulse? – puts the knife into my other hand. Blood hit the fucking ceiling. Took me forty-five minutes to cut the head off. Another hour to cut the legs off, through the bone. Put it in a binbag, took it up the field, chucked it in the lake. My dad loved me. He loved my sister. D'you understand that? Gary? Do you understand?
GARY nods.
I'm my father's son.
Don't ever doubt me. Don't ever doubt my ability.
LOUISE enters with MARK. Pause.
MARK: Jesus.
Beat.
Jesus.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: No, I mean –
FRANCIS: What?
LOUISE: Have you been talking to him?
MARK: No, I don't mean –
FRANCIS: You don't mean what?
MARK: Nothing.
LOUISE: I told you not to talk to him.
FRANCIS: I haven't said…
You're not in charge, Louise, you don't tell me –
LOUISE: I told you to watch him.
FRANCIS: Louise, you're not the boss.
MARK: Jesus fucking Christ.
FRANCIS: Yes, Jesus fucking Christ, and what do you mean you don't mean nothing?
MARK: Sorry?
FRANCIS: You said you don't mean nothing which means you mean something.
MARK: What?
FRANCIS: I'm asking you a question.
MARK: I'm just saying.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: Fuck.
Jesus.
Beat.
No, good. Good though. No, I mean good though.
FRANCIS: This is him.
MARK: Yes.
FRANCIS: You see?
MARK: Yes.
FRANCIS: I got him.
LOUISE: We got him.
FRANCIS: We got, yeah, we got him.
LOUISE: His hands are hurting.
FRANCIS: Not the police, Mark; us, me and my sister.
LOUISE: Ropes are too tight.
MARK: This is the one?
FRANCIS: This is the one, this is the one.
LOUISE: Look like they're gonna bleed.
MARK: So what are we gonna do?
LOUISE: I said let them fucking well bleed.
Beat.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: What are we going to, you know.
FRANCIS: Are you taking the piss?
MARK: I'm just asking.
FRANCIS: The police are doing nothing, Mark.
MARK: I know, I'm just asking because –
FRANCIS: I thought you said you wanted to be involved.
MARK: I do, I do wanna be –
FRANCIS: I thought you said you was interested.
LOUISE: We got him.
MARK: No, no it's just a question, I'm just, I'm just –
FRANCIS: Are you not interested?
LOUISE: Of course he's interested.
FRANCIS: Are you not bothered?
MARK: Of course I'm bothered.
FRANCIS: Because if you're not bothered or interested about things around here…
MARK: I said good
FRANCIS: This was the last garage on the estate, Mark, you had the last garage on the estate and now it's been blown up, what sort of people are we if we allow this to happen?
MARK: I said good, didn't I say –
Louise, didn't I say, the first thing I said was good.
Beat.
LOUISE: You can still smell what he did here.
MARK: I know.
LOUISE: To you, Mark. This is your garage
FRANCIS: Your fucking garage, Mark.
MARK: Yeah, I know.
LOUISE: Can still see the blood, he blew up your garage.
MARK: We know that?
FRANCIS: Exactly.
MARK: No, I'm asking.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: I'm asking if we, you know.
FRANCIS: What's the matter with you? We know.
MARK: Okay.
FRANCIS: You know, you fucking know.
MARK: Yes.
FRANCIS: We live here, we know, do you live here?
MARK: Yes, I live here
FRANCIS: Then you know, don't you know?
MARK: I know, yes I…
Little…sod.
FRANCIS: Yes, yes, little prick, little cunt, little fucking cunt.
We've been here longer than you, Mark.
MARK: What's that got to do with –
FRANCIS: I'm just saying we've been here longer than you.
LOUISE: Don't start with that, Francis.
FRANCIS: We've been here longer.
LOUISE: I thought we agreed to leave that –
MARK: We agreed to leave that –
LOUISE: I thought –
FRANCIS: I'm not attacking him, I'm just saying.
LOUISE: Calm down, Francis.
FRANCIS: You calm down.
MARK: We're standing here in a burnt out garage with a tied up boy.
LOUISE: Your burnt out garage.
Your burnt out garage, Mark.
MARK: We know it's him?
FRANCIS: Of course we know it's him.
MARK: How do we know it's him.
LOUISE: We know what he's been saying.
FRANCIS: presentations
LOUISE: We know what sort of person he is
FRANCIS: explosions, bins, presen-fucking-tations, Gary
MARK: Because if it wasn't
LOUISE: It was him.
Beat.
MARK: We should talk to him.
FRANCIS: Oh we're going to talk to him.
LOUISE: That's what I said.
FRANCIS: We're going to talk to him alright.
LOUISE: I said we should talk to him.
FRANCIS: Louise, please don't do that.
LOUISE: What?
FRANCIS: Try and make me look small.
MARK: His hands are hurting.
LOUISE: Fuck his hands.
MARK: His wrists are bleeding.
LOUISE: Fuck his wrists.
FRANCIS: And stop swearing so much.
LOUISE: (To MARK.) Where's your wife?
No answer.
Where's your wife?
No answer.
(To GARY.) Do you know where his wife is?
MARK: She's in hospital.
LOUISE: You put her in hospital. He put her in hospital.
FRANCIS: Doesn't that make you feel anything?
MARK: Of course it does.
FRANCIS: For fuck's sake.
MARK: I'm saying it does.
FRANCIS: People like us, walking around, in danger, my sister in danger, we shouldn't be walking around in –
MARK: She's doing a bit better.
She's –
Beat.
No, I'm just saying, she's doing a bit better, she's off the drip and –
LOUISE: Mark, whose side are you on?
MARK: Yours, I'm –
LOUISE: Because things have changed.
FRANCIS: Yes.
LOUISE: You have to pick a side. You cannot walk around saying and doing certain things, we cannot let people walk around saying and doing certain things and he has been saying and doing certain things.
FRANCIS: Fucking bastard.
LOUISE: Read the papers. I've got a gas mask.
FRANCIS: She has.
LOUISE: I'm getting ready.
MARK: I know, but –
FRANCIS: Ninety-three year-old woman raped last week.
LOUISE: That's got nothing to do with –
FRANCIS: I know, I'm just saying.
LOUISE: Yeah but don't say.
FRANCIS: Two blocks down. Broke in, stole sixteen pounds fifty, raped her and left. Ruptured her bowel.
LOUISE: Francis, it's nothing to do with that.
FRANCIS: I know, I'm just –
LOUISE: What? You're just what, what are you just doing?
FRANCIS: What about him? Don't shout at me, Louise, what about him? His wife was looking for him.
MARK: What?
FRANCIS: She was looking for you.
MARK: Hey –
FRANCIS: And where were you?
MARK: Yes, I know –
FRANCIS: You were out chasing
MARK: Don't start with all that.
LOUISE: You were nearly in here, Mark.
MARK: I know, I know
LOUISE: Nearly blown to –
MARK: Yes, I know
LOUISE: Lucky escape
FRANCIS: Wife wasn't so lucky.
MARK: Don't bring my wife
LOUISE: We have to bring your wife
FRANCIS: Looking for you
MARK: Don't start with that
FRANCIS: crying her eyes out looking for you and you with a girl
MARK: Hey!
FRANCIS: chasing some child
MARK: Don't start with all the – Louise, don't let him start with the
LOUISE: Shut up, Francis.
FRANCIS: Don't tell me to shut up.
MARK: It's him we should be
FRANCIS: You keep doing this, Louise!
MARK: He did it, he's the one who hurt me, I'm hurt, I'm the, it's me that's hurt!
FRANCIS: Which is what were saying to you Mark!
MARK: Which is what I'm saying, it's me that
FRANCIS: I thought you wanted to do something?
MARK: I do want to do something.
FRANCIS: I thought you we're sick of this shit.
MARK: I am sick of this shit. I am sick of this shit and I do want to do something, just don't bring that into this, because that's my feelings and that has nothing to do with, that's not this.
LOUISE: I heard her crying when they put her in the ambulance. You'd expect her to be screaming or moaning, but she was just crying like a little girl.
FRANCIS: Alright.
MARK: And don't say child.
Pause.
FRANCIS: Show him your scar.
LOUISE: What?
FRANCIS: Show him your scar.
LOUISE: Why?
FRANCIS: Just do it.
LOUISE: No.
FRANCIS: Louise, show him your –
LOUISE: No, why?
FRANCIS: Louise, show him your scar.
LOUISE: Why?
FRANCIS: Because I want to prove a point.
LOUISE: What –
FRANCIS: Louise, please.
Beat.
Please show him your scar.
Pause. She shows MARK her scar.
Not him, him.
LOUISE: You didn't say.
She shows GARY her scar.
FRANCIS: That's who you're dealing with.
LOUISE rolls her sleeve back down. Pause.
So what do we do now?
MARK: We should ask him something.
Make sure.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: I want to hear him say he did it.
Fair…trial.
FRANCIS: Fair trial?
MARK: Because we should make sure.
FRANCIS: Fair…? He's a fucking terrorist, Mark!
MARK: I want to hear him say it.
LOUISE: We know he did it.
FRANCIS: Yeah, we know he did it.
LOUISE: We should hear him say it, though.
FRANCIS: No, Louise –
LOUISE: Prove he did it.
FRANCIS: No.
LOUISE: Show we're not like him
FRANCIS: No.
LOUISE: Show we're not animals.
FRANCIS: No.
Beat.
MARK: Alright, take the tape off.
FRANCIS: No way.
Beat.
No way.
MARK: You have to take –
FRANCIS: No –
MARK: There's no point if you don't –
FRANCIS: No way, no fucking way.
LOUISE: There's no point if you don't –
FRANCIS: Shut up, Louise, you're supposed to be on my side.
MARK: He can't answer.
FRANCIS: You're my sister.
LOUISE: Take it off.
FRANCIS: No, he'll…he'll scream.
MARK: No-one gives a shit about him.
FRANCIS: No way, you can't take the tape off, that's one thing I know you do not do.
MARK: How's he gonna answer?
FRANCIS: He can nod.
LOUISE: He needs to do more than nod.
FRANCIS: Dad wouldn't take the tape off.
LOUISE: Dad would definitely take the tape off.
FRANCIS: Whose side are you on?
LOUISE: Yours.
FRANCIS: What if he starts screaming? This is not a sane world. Terrorists, rapists, perverts all walking the fucking street and we are the ones who'll get done for this. Don't take the tape off, Louise.
Pause.
MARK: Threaten him.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: Threaten him.
MARK starts looking through the debris.
FRANCIS: What are you looking for?
MARK finds a slightly charred ball-pin hammer.
MARK: Threaten him with this.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: Listen, Gary, we're going to take the tape off…
FRANCIS: No –
MARK: We're going to take the tape off and ask you some questions, alright.
Alright?
GARY nods.
And if you scream, I'm…
I'm gonna tap you in the face with this hammer.
Understand?
Beat. GARY nods.
Okay.
(To FRANCIS.) Go on.
FRANCIS doesn't move.
Go on.
FRANCIS: Louise –
LOUISE: Go on, Francis.
Beat. FRANCIS goes to GARY.
FRANCIS: If he starts any shit you smack him in the face.
MARK: I will.
FRANCIS: And if he says things that aren't, you know, or against us or something, stupid, you smack him in the face with that hammer.
MARK: I will, I will.
Pause. FRANCIS pulls the tape off.
GARY: Can I go home, please?
MANDY appears, suddenly. FRANCIS puts the tape back on GARY. They stare at MANDY.
MANDY: What?
Beat.
FRANCIS: What the fuck is she doing here?
MARK: Mandy?
FRANCIS: Did you bring her here?
MARK: No.
FRANCIS: This isn't a party!
MARK: I said no.
LOUISE: 'Lo Mandy.
MANDY: Louise.
What you doing with that hammer?
MARK: Just…
Holding it.
FRANCIS: What are you doing here?
MANDY: What are you doing here?
FRANCIS: None of your business.
MARK: Mandy –
MANDY: I know him.
MARK: What are you doing here?
FRANCIS: You forget him.
MARK: Did…did you follow me?
MANDY: No.
FRANCIS: I can't believe –
MARK: Have you been watching me?
MANDY: No.
MARK: I'm not angry, I mean I'd be very –
I've missed you.
MANDY shrugs.
Why haven't you called?
MANDY: Dunno.
MARK: How are you?
MANDY: Alright.
MARK: How's…
Everything?
Your dad?
MANDY: Still a cunt.
FRANCIS: What the fuck are you doing here?
MARK: Don't talk to her like that.
MANDY: He goes to my school.
FRANCIS: Forget him, what the fuck is she doing here?
MARK: She followed me.
MANDY: Didn't follow you.
MARK: It's alright, Mandy, I mean, it's good, if you've been watching –
MANDY: I haven't been watching.
MARK: I missed you.
FRANCIS: Don't you fucking start.
MARK: You could've called.
MANDY: What for?
MARK: To talk to me.
MANDY: Goes to my school.
FRANCIS: You forget you've seen him.
MARK: How've you been?
FRANCIS: Go home. What are you doing here? Did you bring her here?
MARK: I told you –
LOUISE: Gary blew up the garage, Mandy.
MANDY: How d'you know that?
LOUISE: He's said certain things that point solidly in that direction.
So we're defending ourselves.
Beat.
MANDY: He's a freak.
LOUISE: What are you doing here?
MANDY: Just come here sometimes. Used to like it here.
MARK: With me.
MANDY: Used to like it here. I come here sometimes. Get out.
Can I stay?
FRANCIS: No.
MANDY: Louise, can I –
MARK: She can –
FRANCIS: No.
MANDY: Don't wanna go home.
FRANCIS: You can't stay.
MANDY: Hate it. Just wanna stay here.
MARK: Let her stay, you can stay –
FRANCIS: No!
MANDY: I'm not his friend. He's a freak. I fucking hate him. He's got no friends. People like me don't mix with people like him, Louise. I've got loads of friends.
FRANCIS: Why don't you go and see them now, then?
MANDY: What, like you go and see yours, you mean?
FRANCIS: Don't start with me, you don't know anything about me.
MANDY: Know enough.
FRANCIS: Get home and keep this buttoned or –
MARK: Don't threaten her.
FRANCIS: What?
MARK: I'm just saying.
FRANCIS: Or what?
MANDY: I know loads of people. Not like him. He has to sit on his own at breaks.
FRANCIS: Or fucking what?
MARK: Look, there's no point in being contrary.
MANDY: On the bus.
FRANCIS: Contrary?
MANDY: I'm not like him, Louise. He's shit.
FRANCIS: Contrary?
MANDY: I think he might be mental.
MARK: I don't think this is the time –
FRANCIS: Who's being fucking contrary?
MANDY: Says funny things.
LOUISE: What things?
MARK: Don't start this isn't the time
LOUISE: What things?
MANDY: Said a load of stuff about God last week.
LOUISE: What did he say?
MANDY: (Beat.) Stuff.
MARK: She's a young girl, is all I'm –
FRANCIS: Yes, exactly, exactly, Mark, she's a young girl.
MARK: I know, I'm not denying –
LOUISE: What stuff?
MANDY: No God or something.
FRANCIS: You can't deny.
MANDY: That's what's wrong with us.
LOUISE: What's wrong with us?
MARK: I'm not denying that she's young, or that –
FRANCIS: Or that you're a pervert.
MARK: Hey!
MANDY: Said we're all going to die because we haven't got souls or God, or something.
LOUISE: He said that?
MANDY: Something like that.
MARK: Hey, now!
FRANCIS: Chasing some –
LOUISE: She can stay.
FRANCIS: What?
LOUISE: She can stay.
MANDY: Yes!
FRANCIS: Louise!
LOUISE: Let her stay.
FRANCIS: This isn't a game.
LOUISE: Let her stay.
FRANCIS: Yeah, but you're just –
You can't do that, you're just –
LOUISE takes the tape off.
Louise!
GARY: Can I go home now?
LOUISE: No.
FRANCIS: Louise, you can't just…do that.
LOUISE: We wanna ask you some questions.
GARY: I didn't do it.
LOUISE: Do what?
FRANCIS: He's lying.
GARY: Blow this garage up.
FRANCIS: Look, he's lying.
MANDY: Hello, Gary.
LOUISE: Who did it then?
FRANCIS: He doesn't know.
LOUISE: What do you mean, he doesn't know?
FRANCIS: He doesn't know who did it.
LOUISE: Of course he knows. He did it.
FRANCIS: What?
LOUISE: He did it, Francis, of course he fucking knows.
GARY: I didn't do it.
Beat.
FRANCIS: Yeah, yeah, that's what I mean, I mean, he knows, he did it.
GARY: I don't know.
FRANCIS: You're a dirty fucking liar, Gary, hit him in the face with that hammer.
MANDY: Hello, Gary.
FRANCIS: Just put the tape back on, Louise.
LOUISE: We're asking him questions.
GARY: I didn't do it, I honestly didn't do it.
LOUISE: We think you did.
GARY: Why? I don't understand.
MARK: Why did you blow up my garage?
GARY: I didn't blow up your garage, honestly.
FRANCIS: He's just lying.
MANDY: Aren't you gonna say hello, Gary?
GARY: Alright, Mand.
MARK: Don't talk to her, talk to us.
GARY: She said –
LOUISE: What did you say to her?
GARY: Just said hello.
LOUISE: Before, what did you say before, last week?
GARY: Don't remember.
LOUISE: Yes you do.
FRANCIS: Hit him in the face with the hammer.
GARY: I don't –
LOUISE: About God and we're all gonna die?
FRANCIS: He's giving us shit, hit him in the face.
LOUISE: What was that you said?
MARK: What does it matter?
LOUISE: It matters, what did you say?
FRANCIS: Go on.
GARY: I don't remember.
LOUISE takes the hammer from MARK and hits GARY in the face. He reels back in pain but is silent.
FRANCIS: Fucking hell, Louise, what did you do that for?
LOUISE: You said!
FRANCIS: Yeah, but, fucking – !
LOUISE: What did you say?
GARY doesn't answer. She hits him again.
FRANCIS: Louise! You're hurting him!
LOUISE: What did you say?
GARY: we have to believe in something because if we don't believe in something how can we believe in the future and if we don't believe in the future how can we have a future, not God not Allah not lightning or maybe or maybe me, us or something, forward, a forward, the Egyptians were around for two thousand years it can't be just this, things and, around us, and if you believe in God that's okay but if you believe in the Devil that's the problem because then you can believe others are evil and you want to hurt but maybe there's no good and evil just mistakes and not mistakes.
Pause.
FRANCIS: What the fuck was that?
LOUISE: Was that what he said?
MANDY: Something like that.
FRANCIS: What was all that about?
MARK: Did he blow up my garage?
LOUISE: Did you blow up Mark's garage, Gary?
GARY: No.
FRANCIS: What the fuck are you on, Gary?
LOUISE: Are you a terrorist, Gary?
GARY: No, I am not a terrorist, Louise.
LOUISE: Don't use my name, why've you been saying these things?
GARY: Dunno, they're just things.
LOUISE: Do you hate us?
GARY: No.
LOUISE: Do you despise us?
GARY: No, I don't.
MANDY: He does.
FRANCIS: He doesn't, he looks up to us, someone like him.
MANDY: You don't now him.
FRANCIS: Who the fuck invited you here?
LOUISE: Did you see Mark's wife?
GARY: No.
MARK: No-one invited her, she followed me.
LOUISE: There was part of a carrier bag stuck to her face.
MANDY: Didn't follow you.
LOUISE: Tesco's bag, only the heat had shrunk it, like you used to do with crisp packets, putting them under the grill.
MARK: No, but you came back to be here.
MANDY: So?
LOUISE: You could still see the name, but really small, it was shrunk really small.
MARK: Thinking of me, thinking of us.
MANDY: No!
LOUISE: Just as they lifted her into the ambulance it fell off.
MANDY: Thinking of here, not you.
MARK: We can still –
MANDY: Not you, thinking of being here, thinking of being
MARK: we can –
MANDY: someone else.
LOUISE: Just lazily drifted off. Took her skin off. All down the side of her face. Eye socket to lip.
MANDY: You're just creepy.
MARK: Mandy –
LOUISE: Just lazily peeled off her face. Could see the eye-ball sitting into the bone.
MANDY: This is all gone. Dirty old creep. Like sick.
MARK: Mandy –
MANDY: All. Gone.
Okay?
Beat.
LOUISE: Meat and bone. It was like looking at a living face of meat and bone.
Beat.
Tell us why you did it?
GARY: I didn't do it.
LOUISE: Mark, hold this.
Tell us why you did it.
GARY: I can't because I didn't do it.
FRANCIS: He don't look well.
LOUISE: Mark?
MARK takes the hammer.
GARY: Honestly, I didn't.
FRANCIS: Maybe he's had enough.
MARK: Little…sod.
GARY: I didn't –
MARK: Little prick.
GARY: Honestly.
MARK: Little cunt, little fucking cunt.
LOUISE: Tell us how you did it then, little cunt.
GARY: What?
MARK: This is my home.
GARY: How can I tell you how when I didn't do it?
LOUISE: Gary, we're not going to hurt you if you tell us.
GARY: Really?
LOUISE: Yes.
MARK: My wife, my fucking wife!
GARY: But…
LOUISE: What?
MARK: This is where I live, in my own home!
GARY: But…
LOUISE: But what, Gary.
GARY: But I didn't do it.
MARK: Don't say you didn't do it.
GARY: But I didn't –
MARK: DON'T SAY YOU DIDN'T DO IT!
LOUISE: Gary?
GARY: What makes you think I did it?
FRANCIS: Those ropes are hurting him, you see.
MANDY: We know you did it.
GARY: You don't, you don't know, you need evidence or –
LOUISE: You don't need evidence.
MARK: Stop pissing around.
LOUISE: You don't need evidence for terrorists.
If you say you did it we'll let you go.
GARY: Will you?
LOUISE: Yes.
Pause. GARY looks at them. Looks at FRANCIS.
GARY: But I didn't.
Beat.
LOUISE: Lie the chair down.
They look at her.
Lie the chair down, back against the floor.
MARK lies the chair down, GARY's head upstage.
FRANCIS: Watch his hands, Louise watch his –
MARK and LOUISE kneel at his head.
MARK: Twenty-two years of marriage, twenty-fucking-two years!
LOUISE: Put the tape on him, Mandy.
Mandy?
GARY: Honesty's the best –
MANDY puts the tape back on.
LOUISE: Gary? I want you to nod that you did it. If you don't Mark's going to smash you in the teeth with his hammer. D'you understand?
GARY nods.
FRANCIS: Louise –
LOUISE: Make sure his skull's against the floor.
FRANCIS: Maybe he's had enough.
MARK: Filthy little
LOUISE: Did you do it?
MARK: pervert,
MANDY: He's really scared.
MARK: filthy pervert
FRANCIS: Louise?
LOUISE: Gary, did you do it?
Shakes his head.
Hit him.
MARK smashes the ball of the hammer into the front of his mouth.
MANDY looks away.
FRANCIS: Fuck!
MARK: Pervert.
LOUISE: Gary, did you do it?
Gary?
GARY shakes his head.
Hit him.
FRANCIS: Don't hit him!
MARK hits his teeth again.
MARK: dirty
FRANCIS: Stop!
MANDY: God.
FRANCIS: Louise, stop, please, he's –
LOUISE: He's a terrorist.
FRANCIS: He's –
LOUISE: Don't be weak.
FRANCIS: I'm not weak.
LOUISE: Did you do it?
GARY shakes his head. MARK hits him in the mouth again, choosing a different angle to get at teeth that haven't been smashed.
MARK: filthy
FRANCIS: He's had enough!
LOUISE: Hit him.
Again, a different angle.
MARK: fucking
MANDY: God.
LOUISE: Hit him.
Again, a different angle.
MARK: pervert.
Pause. FRANCIS is crying now, away from them, cannot watch. MANDY is unable to take her eyes from GARY's mouth. LOUISE takes the hammer from MARK. MARK sits back. GARY is still silent.
Oh dear.
MANDY: Jesus.
MARK: Oh dear, then.
MANDY: He's choking.
LOUISE: What?
MANDY: He's choking on the blood.
LOUISE: Then…take the tape off.
MARK: Oh dear, then.
MANDY begins to take the tape off.
MANDY: Jesus.
MARK: Oh dear.
MANDY: His lip's stuck…it's hanging, it's…
LOUISE: Just pull it.
She pulls. Rips his lip off.
MANDY: Jesus Christ!
LOUISE: It's alright. This is…
Beat.
Won't do his…
Now, won't do his…
It's alright –
FRANCIS: It's not fucking alright!
LOUISE: won't do his
presentations
again. Eh?
No, it's alright, we were…
We were…
MANDY: His teeth…
LOUISE: it's alright.
MANDY: His teeth are all…
LOUISE: It's alright.
MANDY: I think a piece of his gum's missing…
MARK: Oh dear, then.
LOUISE: No, it's, it's alright. It is, it's
MANDY: Where, has he swallowed it?
LOUISE: It's alright.
MANDY: Jesus.
FRANCIS: Shit, shit.
LOUISE: It's alright. It's alright, Mandy. It's alright, Francis.
MARK: Oh dear.
Oh dear, then.
Oh dear.
Beat.
Well that's…
That's
LOUISE: Francis?
MANDY: Louise?
MARK: That's
MANDY: Louise?
MARK: that. Then.
Pause.
LOUISE: They moved a paedophile to this estate. My dad waited for him. Smashed his feet with a baseball bat. He did that for me. I was fourteen. He went to prison. Died in there of stomach cancer. That paedophile walks around today.
MANDY: Louise?
LOUISE: I love you, Francis.
No answer.
Gary's an agent of terror.
MANDY: Louise?
LOUISE: Francis, I love you.
MANDY: Louise?
LOUISE: We did a good thing here today.
We did…
We did a good thing.
MANDY: Louise?
MANDY, MARK, FRANCIS, LOUISE, isolated from each other.
MARK: So I'm standing there cooking this Salmon Teriyaki – which is a lot easier than it looks, it's actually a really easy dish, I mean really, the trick is to get the right rice, you get the right rice and the whole thing, you get this Japanese rice, that's the key, you have to get this Japanese rice, but you can get this in supermarkets these days, it's rounder, this rice, Tesco's or, they use it in Sushi, or Sainsbury's probably and the shape is, I think the texture is, you know the difference immediately, rounder maybe a bit sweeter, I'm not sure, but you get this rice and what I do is I have these bowls and once it's cooked I pack the rice into these bowls, tip it onto the plate, give it a twist then take the bowl away, and because this rice is sticky you have this dome, this little dome of rice, it's really very easy but it looks, you know, it looks, and then it's just salmon steaks which I fry in the pan in a little olive oil and sprinkle a bit of flour, this isn't rocket science I know, but I sprinkle a bit of flour before putting it in the pan because it takes the moisture from the flesh which crisps up the skin, I know, I know, I fucking know, that's no revelation, I mean this isn't, it's a very easy thing and it's cook the salmon and at the last minute it's in with the Teriyaki – which comes in a bottle and usually I feel, a bottle, you know, some celebrity chef's sauce in a bottle, it feels like cheating, usually, but this is, and you can do better than this cunt yourself, but this is, it comes in a bottle that's how Teriyaki comes, it's like soy sauce, this is how it comes, so at the last minute you splash in the Teriyaki into the hot pan, just for a minute, and then serve, salmon next to the rice, which is in a dome and drizzle the fish with the sauce and a little on the rice, which doesn't break apart because it's a sticky rice, it looks fantastic, and maybe a hint of green, spinach or, or, I do these beans, Japanese style green beans, but that's not important, it always looks fantastic but, it's really a very easy thing to cook and I'm standing there cooking, and I say cooking but I mean watching, because honestly this is so fucking easy, and I'm standing there cooking this Salmon Teriyaki and I hear the door open and I know she's home. And she comes into the kitchen. Not a word. I carry on watching my Salmon Teriyaki. Hitting the meat of the fish with my spatula, no reason, just, you know. She puts something down; bags; shopping-bag, the sound of apples hitting the table through the plastic of the carrier-bag: keys on the table. And then she's behind me. Peering over my shoulder. And this is a big gesture – much bigger than it looks because she always used to come up behind me and rest her chin on my shoulder and watch me cooking and though she hasn't rested her chin on my shoulder, she almost has and this is a big gesture. And I can feel her belly pressing into my back. And I'm very happy with that. I'm very happy. And yes, I'm not going to, to lie, there's a part of me, yes, that thinks, yes alright, I did get to a point when I couldn't…stand to look at that belly, and all – I'm not proud of this – and all that it represented or whatever, but, I'm not going to pretend what has happened hasn't happened and maybe, yes, in three months, a year, I don't know, no-one knows the future, but right now I'm very happy to feel that belly in my back thank you, and I'm almost tempted to lean back into her, but I know how delicate this moment is and I know not to do that yet and I know that all of this is up to her and she's perhaps, I don't know, testing? I don't know, or something, so I don't lean back and her chin isn't on my shoulder but this is, you know I can feel something being said here so I just stand there cooking – watching my Salmon Teriyaki and after maybe thirty seconds of this she looks up at me and says ‘You've always been a lucky cunt.’
And I have to laugh.
Because it's true.
I have.
I have always been a lucky cunt.
Pause.
FRANCIS: So I'm standing at this bus-stop and my feet are in concrete, they're made of lead, ice, and all around me the high street is flowing, buses coming and going and I can't move, don't get on them, people washing around me, flowing around me and I have no idea how long I'm there because things outside seem speeded up but things inside are moving slower than continents and I am terrified to the core of my body because I can feel the concrete creeping up my legs, I can feel the lead claiming me molecule by molecule, I can feel the ice slowly taking me over and I want to scream for help, cry I want to cry, I am shitting it in case it reaches my chest and I stop breathing, and I cannot move and I'm praying that it doesn't reach my lungs but I'm powerless to stop it and this small bloke bumps into this big bloke and knocks over his ice-cream. Just like that. Just bumps into him, no-one noticing, really, he just bumps into him and the ice-cream, it sort of topples, it topples into the gutter. And splats, comic really, this big bloke's ice-cream toppling off into the dirt. And this big bloke, who's with his girlfriend, and she seems very nice, this big bloke turns to the little bloke and, he's smiling the big bloke, but you can tell he's gutted, I mean you are aren't you, if something like that happens, you're gutted, and he's saying that the little bloke has to get him another. And the little bloke is saying no, because the big bloke wasn't watching where he was going, which is fair enough because I saw this, and the big bloke who's gutted is screaming at the little bloke, shoving him, and the little bloke is standing his ground but you can tell he's not up for this and the big bloke's girlfriend is shouting at the big bloke, telling him to stop, begging him, and I feel sorry for her because she's nice enough, and the big bloke now is shoving the little bloke, bouncing him off this plate-glass window. And now everyone has noticed. And the entire street has stopped. And the girlfriend and the big bloke start a massive row. And the little bloke sees his chance and he gets out of there. He just walks away. He hasn't bargained for this, he's on his way to work, meet some friends or something, a coffee, a drink I don't know, and this big bloke notices he's gone and he's chasing after him and suddenly I'm behind him, I'm behind this big bloke because there is a panic in my guts and it's broad daylight, but I've seen the look in the big bloke's eyes and it is pure fire, pure fury and he reaches the little bloke who doesn't know he's there and he runs up behind him and shoves him with all his might – and again this is comic because it's like he's in the playground – and this little bloke who doesn't know he's there goes flying into this concrete post, the side of his head straight on the edge and what is most shocking is the noise. It's like this crack. Like you'd hit that concrete with a hammer. And he's on the floor and there is blood pouring, pumping out of this gash just above his temple and he is grey, he is suddenly the colour of the concrete. And we just stand there. Me and the big bloke and his girlfriend. And I look up at him. At his face. And I feel so sorry for him. His face. I wanted to almost hold his hand, because he hadn't, this wasn't what he'd…
Second hangs in the air like breath.
And then they're off, him first, her still staring until the pull, because he has her hand, until the pull yanks her away and I just have time to see that she's terrified before she's gone. Terrified of that grey face pumping blood, terrified of that sound, that crack, and I'm on my knees and I'm sitting him upright because somewhere in the back of my mind I remember that if he bleeds into his brain he'll go into a coma and I don't know how I know that but I do and he's coming round and he's trying to get up and I get him to stay where he is and I'm trying not to let him see the shade of grey that he's become reflected in my face, and I keep talking to him while the ambulance is on its way and I've got no idea, no idea at all what I said, I can't remember, but I do remember that after a while he's began to realise that he does need an ambulance after all, coz at first he just wants to get up and go to work but now he's realised and he's sitting quietly and I'm talking away to him and I've got no idea what I said and he thanks me.
He's thanking me.
And I'm thinking what are you doing? Thanking me? Me?
D'you know what I am? But he's still thanking me.
He's
thanking
me.
And I want to cry. I want to cry my eyes out like a little baby and hug this grey man through all the blood because he's sitting there with a cracked open head and he's thanking me, but I know that I don't deserve to even touch, to even think about touching this man's blood. And I'm in the ambulance with him. And I'm holding his hand. And he's got an oxygen mask on him and I explain to them that I shouldn't be there, that I'm nothing. I was just around, and they smile and say, ‘keep hold of his hand,’ and I do. And I think that my heart is breaking into two distinct pieces. I think that it is cracking. And I think that it is emptying of blood and that I might die in this ambulance because of an emptied heart. And I look at my feet. And there's no concrete. And they're not made of lead. They're not made of concrete. And I just hold his hand. I just hold his hand.
Pause.
LOUISE: So I'm watching this man cutting this other man's head off. And he's doing it with this knife that looks like a kitchen knife or something, which is completely inappropriate, so he's having to put a lot of work into it, he has to push hard down, and he's sawing but that's no good really, because the knife has no teeth, and he's pulling the head back and sawing with the knife and sort of twisting it every so often and it's taking ages and I'm eating Chicken Kiev with peas, potatoes and gravy and it tastes pretty bad because it's one of those ready meals, and I'm eating it off my lap because I'm in my bedroom at my computer watching this man cutting this man's head off and this is the fifth time I've watched it because I feel I'm very close to understanding something and the potatoes are stuck justifies together and I hate that and the TV is on and there's an interview, it's this documentary I recorded and they're interviewing these American soldiers and the chicken is, it's sort of re-constituted so it's a bit spongy which makes me feel a bit queasy. And I burn my tongue on the butter, which is really hot. And there are four men around this man, all dressed in black and wearing masks and you can tell that they're wondering if they should give him a hand because he's really having to hack to get through and there's white writing going along the bottom, a translation into English of a statement read over the top of this and I smell a bit. I do, I do smell, because I haven't had a wash in a few days, in fact, I haven't been out in a few days but I'm close to something, I can feel that I'm close to an understanding so I click on the rewind and start again and peas fall off my fork because I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing justifiesthe and I sort of wonder, absently, while it's rewinding because this is streaming and you have to wait, if this isn't wrong and if I'm not using all this as, as entertainment, which would be sick, but I don't think I am because I think I'm close to something meanstheendsjustif and I pick up the peas from the plate with my fork and put them into my mouth.
Beat.
MARK: And yes, alright, I admit it, I serve with a slight flourish, a flourish, alright, because I have decided to serve it with these beans, green beans, like those French beans I think they are and it looks, it looks, and these are fantastic, because the way I do them is I dip them in a sieve in boiling water and the moment they're back to the boil I pull them out – blanching, this is blanching, I'm blanching them – the moment they're back to the boil I whip them out and run them under the cold tap and then, and this is so fucking easy that it makes me guilty almost it's so easy, I sprinkle them with a little brown sugar, some roasted sesame seeds, which come in a bag, I mean they come in a fucking bag, I mean it's not as if I'm sitting here roasting them myself, and a little bit of Cajun spice – and the Japanese use something else which I don't know what the fuck it is so I always use Cajun spice which means with the spice and the sugar and the sesame seeds these beans are sweet and spicy and crunchy, so you have the pink of the salmon, the green of the beans, it looks fucking, the rice in a little dome and the Teriyaki drizzled, and so yes, there is a bit of a flourish when I lay these plates down and the look on her face – it's only slight – but she's impressed. And I know it's all worth it. And we sit down to eat. Chopsticks. We eat with chopsticks because why the fuck not?
LOUISE: And the beeping is the beeping of my answer machine and I know there are about ten messages on there and I know that they're all from work because I haven't been in for the last few days because, well I've been here. The peas aren't too bad actually and it starts again, the man having his head cut off and the man sort of stabpushes into the man's neck, into the side of the man's neck and at that moment fiesthemeansends one of the men in black sort of lifts a foot, just sort of lifts a foot a little and then puts it back, and the man's hacking away and I can hear a new soldier on the telly and he's saying that he keeps a picture of the planes hitting the buildings on his locker to remind him why he's here, which seems a bit silly, the peas aren't too bad and I look around the room and there are headlines everywhere. Everywhere, papers. Guardian. Daily Mail. Express. Sun, Mirror, Standard, Times, Telegraph, Financial Times. Independent. Tons of headlines, all over my room, hundreds; six dead in Najaf, Brits held without access to lawyers, terror plot failed, House of Saud denies terror links, Mullahs must denounce terror, American troops rescue buffalo, refineries no longer a target and then…
then
I sort of see myself from the outside, d'you know what I mean? I sort of see me stinking and eating Chicken Kiev watching this man having his head cut off surrounded by headlines with the TV on white words streaming across the bottom of the monitor and it's as if I'm seeing it in slow motion, it's as if the sound has taken on a different quality in my ear, far away, / everything's far away endsjustifiesthemeansendsjustifiesthemeansendsjust and I turn my head
to
the
computer.
Because
FRANCIS: And I'm standing inside the curtain, I'm inside the curtain while he sits on the side of the bed and the nurse and doctor, they do things to him, he's so grey and I'm thinking any minute now they're going to tell me to get out, but they don't, they don't tell me to get out, they just tend this man and he's, honestly, he's smiling at them, he is, he's in this room smiling at them, not like I mean he's not mad, or it's not shock, he's just smiling his thank you to them and I'm thinking, ‘Yes, yes, thank you,’ and I want to pull the doctor away from him and thank her, I want to say, ‘Thank you, thank you, this is what you do, this beautiful thing is what you do and I didn't even know this was happening, I didn't even know that this was here,’ but I don't say anything because, look, because I don't even know this man and here I am on the inside of the curtain and they know I'm there, d'you see? they are moving around me knowing I'm there and getting on with their work / and they're not asking me to leave, d'you see? I'm on the inside of the curtain. And this man with the blood all over his clothes, he, he, he's looking at me and he's smiling that, he's smiling that… smile, and, and
MARK: Fucking, fucking, easy, easy fucking peasy, the flesh is breaking apart and I have to say it's cooked well, pink all the way through with perhaps a hint of a darker seam right through the centre, like wounded muscle, perfect and when you break this apart, I mean it's easy with chopsticks, when you break this apart it's like your eyes are eating, that's how, alright, that sounds stupid, but it's like you've tasted with your eyes and she's impressed. I know she's impressed. She's trying to be, all nonchalant, Miss Fucking-Nonchalant, but you know, I know, I can see and I'm not even, because this is such an easy dish and she's lifting, and this is it, she's lifting a piece of salmon with her chopsticks, and she's not very, I've always been deft with the old chopsticks but she's not, and, she's, it's almost to her mouth, it's, with her, the mouth, her lips pursing, reaching out as if she's going to kiss, almost, and, and, and it…drops. It drops with this splat onto her plate. And she's left there looking like she's going to kiss her chopsticks, and her face, her face is
a picture.
And suddenly I'm laughing. Because this is funny. This, you should see this, this is funny. And she looks at me, all sort of hurt, I mean not really, but like a child who's dropped her sandwich in a puddle, that second when they're almost deciding whether to cry or not and it just makes me laugh harder and there's a slight pause and then she starts laughing
LOUISE: and he sort of stab-and he sort of stab-pushes the knife into the side of the neck and the man sort of raises his foot and puts it down again and I rewind and the same thing happens and I rewind and the same thing happens endsjustifiesthe means endsjustifiesthemeans endsjustifiesthemeans endsjustifiesthemeans and I
swing
my
head
to the
TV
because suddenly it's coming from outside of me, it's the soldier and he's just said it he's just said the ends justify the means. On telly. He's just said it and I realise, very slowly that I heard someone earlier say it, politician or, and maybe it's running through my mind because of that and I turn back endsjustifiesthemeans to endsjustifiesthemeans the endsjustifiesthemeans man endsjustifiesthemeans and I'm very close, I'm very, very close
MARK: and we're laughing
LOUISE: in the white writing
MARK: uncontrollably
LOUISE: I see in the white writing along the bottom of the screen
MARK: there are tears, there are tears running down
LOUISE: sort of stab-stab-pushes the knife into the man's
neck and the man sort of
raises his foot, he
and in the white writing it's saying that force is justified by their ends the means
sort of
raises his foot
and I experience this moment
FRANCIS: and the nurse is telling me not to worry
LOUISE: of
FRANCIS: and that he's going to be fine, they just need to keep him in for observation and suddenly I'm
MARK: running down our cheeks
FRANCIS: crying
LOUISE: wondering how many of these stories
MARK: tears
LOUISE: these headlines I would find this phrase in, or variations of
FRANCIS: there are tears running down my cheeks
MARK: and it suddenly occurs to me that I'm not laughing at all
LOUISE: because I'm looking at this man and he's a bit, it was a surprise and it made him sort of step back, but he didn't want to step back but it was a surprise so, so he sort of, he lifts his foot
MARK: it suddenly occurs to me that I'm
FRANCIS: crying
MARK: crying
LOUISE: And it's such a human thing to do.
d'you know what I mean? To be surprised and then to try and cover it up, but not quite to be able to, this man, this man, this person and I experience a moment of
MARK: tears of pure ice, I'm crying ice
FRANCIS: and I feel
MARK: I feel, and this is just for a split second, I feel
FRANCIS: a moment of
MARK: absolute
LOUISE: shock
MARK: devastation
FRANCIS: hope
MARK: absolute devastation
LOUISE: washes over me
FRANCIS: flooding down my cheeks, these tears of hope, this is
MARK: absolute devastation, just for that split second, like a frame of a car accident inserted into a film, just that split second and it's as if I'm in death,
LOUISE: ends justify the means ends justifies the means ends justifies the means but
FRANCIS: this is
MARK: as if I'm living – just for that second – inside a scream, d'you know what I mean? inside, around me, inside me
LOUISE: this…boy
and my peas, my Chicken Kiev, my potatoes are spilling onto the floor because my muscles have gone slack, and part of me can feel the garlic butter scalding my leg but
FRANCIS: this is
LOUISE: this boy
because that's what he is, this boy raising his foot because he's…shocked, and I
can
not
move
FRANCIS: and this is
LOUISE: because I suddenly realise the complexity
MARK: a frame of absolute devastation that undercuts everything
LOUISE: the complexity of each individual
FRANCIS: hope
LOUISE: human and maybe they don't
MARK: and then it's back to the laughter
LOUISE: maybe they never do
FRANCIS: and I don't even know this man's name
LOUISE: maybe they never justify and it's the means that's important and the garlic butter is burning
MARK: back into the laughter and we're laughing and she's right
LOUISE: this boy
FRANCIS: this man
MARK: she is right
FRANCIS: this man's name, I don't even, but I
LOUISE: this silly boy.
FRANCIS: but I
MARK: I am a lucky cunt.
Pause.
MANDY: Afterwards I went for a walk. Didn't wanna go home. Him sitting there. Talking bollocks. I walked for miles. I wasn't scared. I just walked and walked and walked. And I could feel the night around me, brushing my skin, it was like it was brushing my skin. And all that's going through my mind, for some reason, is this thing my dad used to say when I was a kid. And for some reason I remember this, and this is from before he was a cunt, when he was a man, when he was a real, big man. He used to say that the reason the Soviet Bloc fell was because in nineteen eighty-nine there was a global nuclear war that killed every single man, woman and child on this planet. But it was such a massive shock that we didn't realise we was dead, so we just carried on with our lives. But our hearts knew there wasn't any point. That's why everything's so shit. Imagine saying that to a little girl. But I loved it. I thought it was so clever. And now, walking through this night, it's the only thing going through my head, again and again and again; we're all dead, we're all dead, we're all dead. And I'm in this park. And I don't even remember getting in, I mean I must've climbed over a wall or a gate, and they're big walls as well, but this park is huge. There's like whole hills in it, and woods, and all sorts, and I'm just wandering round this park, two, three o'clock in the morning, I don't know. And everything's old in here. And on top of this hill there's these old buildings and you know that in the day those buildings are open and that this is an important park and in the day those buildings are open to the public and it's tourists and stuff, but right now it's just me. Me and the park. And I sit down. But the place I sit in is no good because I've got a view of the buildings on the hill. So I move. I carry on walking till I find somewhere else, but that's no good coz I can see the gates. So I move and find somewhere else, but that's no good coz there's a view of Canary Wharf, so I move, but that's no good coz I can see some shops on the high street so I move but that's no good because I can see the wall of the park so I move but that's no good coz I can see a crane so I move but that's no good coz there's this office block and flats so I move and that's fine. That's fine. I can see no trace of civilisation whatsoever. And I just sit there. And I begin to think that I would like to live in this park. I begin to think of it, but I begin to think of it as a real possibility. And I'm thinking about how I could build a shelter here, and during the day I could hide out here and in the night I could wander round the park and I'm thinking I could catch squirrels or something, but I mean this, this, this is such a strong feeling, I mean this feels like a real possibility. And I feel alright. And the sun is coming up. And I realise that from where I'm sitting I can see people after all, now there's light, through the trees I can just, like, shops, the backs of these shops, and some parked cars and it's the city. It feels like the beginning of the city. But now I feel alright. I feel good now, I feel like maybe we're not dead after all. And this is, this is gonna sound silly, alright; but coz of how I'm feeling now, I pour my love into the city.
To help.
I try to help. Like it's a liquid. And I'm sitting there with the sun rising, pouring my love into the city.
That's what I'm doing.
And then I remember.
I remember.
Pause.
I always used to think there was grown-ups somewhere. D'you know what I mean, though? Someone in charge. Running the show, who knows what's best. I always thought there was grown-ups. Now I know there are no grown-ups. There's just us.
End