Going nowhere here

A play in one act

Richard Homer

© Richard Homer 2008

Cast of characters
JAKE, KEN, CHLOE, and ANNE: c mid teenage, poor social backgrounds, ready to finish school, bored by education, discipline, the whole country, and their life in general, but nice people.

The play takes place in the present time.

Opening music: ‘Cum on, feel the noize’. Chorus, half minute.
Closing music: ‘Coz I luv you’. The beginning, half minute

At rise: The four young people are in a deserted classroom; Jake is leaning back in a chair, hands behind neck, looking at the walls. Ken is by the whiteboard, writing nothing in particular, Chloe is examining her hands and nails, stroking her hair, and Anne is half reading a magazine. Music, half minute, then fade out.

JAKE: I am, I think I can tell you in truth, bored; I am bored, people; I’m bored with everything.
KEN: Yeah, Jake, I agree with you.

CHLOE: I’m looking at my fingernails, so I’m not one hundred per cent bored, at least not yet.

ANNE: I think I’m half bored, but this magazine’s got some interesting articles about pop music and fashion. It says here you can have a hair transplant. It costs about four thousand pounds. I can’t afford that.

CHLOE: Me, neither. I don’t want a hair transplant. I like my hair.

JAKE: Me too. I like my hair. What about you, Ken?

KEN: Yeah, Jake, I agree with you.

CHLOE: He always agrees with you, Jake.

JAKE: Because he likes me, and has respect, you see.

ANNE: I respect you, Jake, and I like you you’re my best pal, with Ken and Chloe of course.

JAKE: Yeah, Anne, you’re my best pal, with Ken and Chloe of course.

KEN: We’re best pals, aren’t we?

CHLOE: Yeah, that’s right, we’re inseparable. I like that.

ANNE: What’s ‘inseparable’ mean?

JAKE: It means we’re inseparable, like we can’t be separated or we become homesick, something like that.

KEN: That’s right, Jake. You got the right idea there. I like all of you guys, that’s the truth.

CHLOE: We like you, Ken, that’s the truth.

ANNE: I got no one except you people. We’re best pals, aren’t we?

JAKE: You said it, Anne, We’re best pals. We’re with each other.

KEN: Yeah, we watch out for each other, we take care of each other, and we don’t care what the other people think.

CHLOE: That’s cool, Ken, you’re funky and cool, Ken.

ANNE: Yeah, Ken, cool and funky, that’s you, Ken, and Jake and Chloe and me.

JAKE: Right. What are we going to do tonight?

KEN: I got to go home.

CHLOE: Home is boring.

ANNE: Yeah, home is boring. I agree with you. Hey, look at this. It’s Electrovamp. That’s a picture of them. I like them, they’re cool. What do you think of them?

CHLOE: Who?

KEN: They’re a group from London, I think.

JAKE: Not ‘The Who’; no, they’re from here, just down the road, like.

CHLOE: I meant who she is talking about, who Anne is talking about; I dunno what she was talking about.

ANNE: They’re two sisters from Caerphilly; they used to be called Kute, that’s K,U,T,E, not cute like a rabbit, that’s C,U,T,E. I like Kally, she’s funky. I like Tammy, too. She’s funky, too.

CHLOE: They’re good, they are. I like them both. I like their hair. Their hair’s nice; funky.

KEN: They’re pretty, they’re very pretty. I like them. Their hair’s nice, too. Chloe and Anne are pretty, too, but they don’t sing, not like that. But I like Chloe’s hair and I like Anne’s hair.

JAKE: Yeah, that’s right. But I think Anne and Chloe are funky, too. Yeah.

CHLOE: Thank you; I can’t sing; I don’t know how. I get out of tune.

ANNE: Yeah, me too. I don’t want to go home yet. Home is boring.

JAKE: If home is boring, where are we going to go? What are we going to do tonight? We can’t remain here.

KEN: No, we can’t remain around here.

CHLOE: We can go and buy fish and chips after this, go down to the fish and chip shop.

ANNE: That’s a good idea. I got a couple of pounds. We can get a piece of fish and three chips.

CHLOE: Three chips? Oh, you mean three packets of chips, is that right. Yeah, I get you.

JAKE: How can you get fish and chips now? They’re closed, it’s four thirty.

KEN: Yeah, you’re right Jake.

CHLOE: Well, we could go for a curry. I like curry, if they got chips too. I like curry that not too hot; I don’t like the stuff that burns your mouth, it’s like eating a volcano or something like that.

KEN: Chloe’s right; curry is okay when it’s not too hot. I don’t want to eat a volcano.

JAKE: Yeah, eating a volcano would be dangerous, as well as being pretty hot. I know what you mean, Chloe. The hot stuff makes your mouth burn like a gas fire on a winter’s night.

ANNE: How you going to find a curry at this time? The curry places open around eight o’ clock, I think.

JAKE: Then we got to remain here, if we can’t get fish and chips and can’t get a curry. We don’t want to go home.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. I don’t wan to go home. I hate going home; I loathe going home.

CHLOE: You loathe going home?

KEN: Yeah, I do.

ANNE: What’s ‘loathe’ mean?

JAKE: It means you hate something strong, like very hate them, or it, or anything. It’s strong language, that’s what it is, right?

KEN: Yeah, that’s right.

CHLOE: Why do you loathe going home? Is it your father?

KEN: Yeah. I hate him. He hits me when he’s pissed, that’s most of the time, but he isn’t there most of the time. I dunno where he is, I don’t care. I hate him. If he’s there tonight, I’m not going in the house.

ANNE: Poor Ken; then going home’s a no-no for Ken, isn’t it?

JAKE: A no-no for Ken?

KEN: I like that; a no-no for Ken. I want people to call me No-no Ken from now on. N, N, K, for short. Yeah, I like that.

CHLOE: You're nuts. Who wants to be called N, N, K?

KEN: Me.

ANNE: We could all have special secret name, then no one would know who we’re talking to, or taking about. I could call myself ‘Anne the Gan’. No, I don’t like that. What about ‘Anne the Ban’? No, that sounds stupid, I think.

JAKE: How about ‘Anne the Can’? That’s because you like drinking fizzy drinks and they come in a can.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right, that’s a good name for you.

CHLOE: Yeah, that’s cool.

ANNE: Okay, if everyone likes it, I’m Anne the Can.

JAKE: I’m going to call myself ‘Jake the Cake’. Anyone object?

KEN: That’s brilliant, Jake. I like it. We got Anne the Can, Jake the Cake and No-no-Ken. How about Chloe?

CHLOE: What about me?

ANNE: We got to find a rhyme with Chloe. How about Snowy, or Blowy?

JAKE: No, that doesn’t suit Chloe.

KEN: No, that doesn’t suit Chloe. Oh no, it doesn’t suit Chloe.

CHLOE: What suits me? I like fashion and my fingernails. What’s a good name for me?

ANNE: It’s tricky with Chloe. Not many things rhyme with Chloe. What about ‘Chloe the Hero’?

JAKE: That’s ‘Chloe the Heroine’.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. Chloe’s a girl, isn’t he, so she must be a heroine. A heroine is a girl hero. I read that in a book.

CHLOE: That’s right. I can’t be a hero coz I’m a girl. I’m a young woman now, though.

ANNE: That’s right; she’s a young woman now, just like me.

JAKE: That’s right; you’re both young women now; we can do as we please now.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. You can be who you want now.

CHLOE: No, we can’t. We can’t go to the pub for another year.

ANNE: Yeah, and we can’t buy booze.

JAKE: That’s no problem. We get someone to buy it for us.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. It’s no problem. What were we talking about?

JAKE: Getting a special secret name.

CHLOE: Right, so what’s my secret name now? I want a special name like you lot.

ANNE: Hang on; we’re working on it.

JAKE: Chloe Knowy.

KEN: That’s pretty cool, coz Chloe knows lots of things, and can spell better than the rest of us can.

CHLOE: I don’t know. It’s not that catchy, is it? You lot have catchy names.

ANNE: How about Yoyo Chloe?

JAKE: That’s cool, yeah.

KEN: I like it; yeah, Yoyo Chloe.

CHLOE: Okay, that’s me. I like it too. I want you to call me Yoyo Chloe from now on, okay?

ANNE: Right. We must promise not to tell anyone our secret names, okay. Hold hands, and repeat after me, ‘I promise to keep my secret name a secret and tell no one otherwise my secret name won’t be a secret if anyone knows it.’

JAKE: Right. We must promise not to tell anyone our secret names, okay. Hold hands, and repeat after me, ‘I promise to keep my secret name a secret and tell no one otherwise my secret name won’t be a secret if anyone knows it.’

KEN: Right. We must promise not to tell anyone our secret names, okay. Hold hands, and repeat after me, ‘I promise to keep my secret name a secret and tell no one otherwise my secret name won’t be a secret if anyone knows it.’

CHLOE: Right. We must promise not to tell anyone our secret names, okay. Hold hands, and repeat after me, ‘I promise to keep my secret name a secret and tell no one otherwise my secret name won’t be a secret if anyone knows it.’

ANNE: Right. We must promise not to tell anyone our secret names, okay. Hold hands, and repeat after me, ‘I promise to keep my secret name a secret and tell no one otherwise my secret name won’t be a secret if anyone knows it.’ You were supposed to repeat the last bit, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.

JAKE: You were supposed to repeat the last bit but it doesn’t matter.

KEN: You were supposed to repeat the last bit but it-

CHLOE: Ken, Jake, I don’t think that’s what Anne meant. You don’t have to repeat everything.

ANNE: That’s right.

JAKE: Right, I get it.

KEN: Yeah, me too.

CHLOE: What are we going to do tonight? Where are we going to meet?

ANNE: There’s nowhere to go. We can’t get in a pub. There’s a coffee bar in town.

JAKE: Who wants to hang around a coffee bar? Only nerds and geeks hang round a coffee bar.

KEN: You’re right there. Look at the people in them. They’re old and grey, or students.

CHLOE: We’re students too.

ANNE: Yeah, but I think Ken means they’re different from us, like. They are swotty types, who talk about the general election or race or sport.

JAKE: Yeah, I can’t take those kinds of people. They’re boring.

KEN: That’s right, yeah. They’re boring and nerdy and geeky and …and… something or other.

CHLOE: Yeah, you’re right there, Ken.

ANNE: We could hang round the bus stop; that’s where we often go at the weekend. There’s no one there. It’s quiet.

JAKE: That’s because there are no buses in the evening until the next morning.

ANNE: If there was a bus, I wouldn’t use it; they’re too expensive. It’s fifty pence to get into town. I can buy a half load of chips for fifty pence.

CHLOE: That’s right. Then it’s fifty pence to get back.

JAKE: I can’t afford to get a bus two or three times a day. I’d have no money for anything.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. Nobody goes on a bus when the evening comes. There’s nowhere to go in town. Everywhere is shut except the pubs; they’re open at night. Let’s go there, to the bus stop. At least no one bothers us there. It’s cheap, too.

CHLOE: Most people don’t like to hang around a bus shelter in the evening, but we know better. It’s a good place. It’s cheap too.

ANNE: Yeah, it’s got a roof –

JAKE: It’s a bit broken.

ANNE: Yeah, but it keeps most of the rain out.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. It keeps most of the rain out, and the wind too.

CHLOE: Yeah, and we can read the timetable, if someone hasn’t torn it away.

ANNE: Yeah, let’s go there for the evening. That’ll be good fun up there. The weather’s not too bad; the rain’s not really pissing down that bad, is it?

JAKE: No, it’s okay, so long as we take a coat each.

KEN: Or an umbrella.

CHLOE: I don’t have an umbrella.

ANNE: Nor me. I don’t like using them. They blow around in the wind too much.

JAKE: I agree. I hate an umbrella. My mum’s hit me with an umbrella on a few times, on my arm. It stings like crazy, especially when the spiky bits get in you.

KEN: Your mum’s horrible. I hate her like anything. She always tells me to get lost, to bugger off. I don’t know why she hates me.

JAKE: I don’t know why she hates me, too.

CHLOE: My mum doesn’t hate me, but she doesn’t like me much. She doesn’t talk to me; she’s always on the phone to some bloke.

ANNE: How do you know it’s a bloke?

CHLOE: I can tell by the way she talks. You know it’s a bloke from the way people talk.

JAKE: You’re right. You talk to a girl a different way, like. Chloe’s right there. My dad used to talk to my mum real bad, swearing like, whacking her now and again, but he’s gone away now; I think he’s in prison, or something like that. I haven’t seen him for years now; I’m happy.

CHLOE: Yeah, you told me before. I’m not surprised, though. He had a real bad temper. I’m quite glad I don’t have a dad in some ways. At least he can’t wallop me if he don’t exist. That’s the way I look at it.

KEN: Yeah, I agree. I want my father to go away. I hate him. I don’t know where my mum is most of the time. She comes back late and she’s asleep when I go to school, so I don’t talk to her much. Most of the time when I get home, she’s not there. But I don’t care. There might be a cake on the table, and I make myself a cup of tea, so it’s okay.

CHLOE: My mum cooks some potatoes and I help myself; I might fry an egg or something. I know how to fry an egg. I like frying an egg.

ANNE: Yeah, me too. My mum tells me to help myself. I get a frozen pizza and stick it in the microwave. It’s enough if I ate fish and chips in town before I go home. My mum's out in the pub or in some crap nightclub, getting back about two in the morning. The police come quite often, people tell me. I mean, they come to the nightclub, not to the house.

JAKE: It’s a rough place, that one. I heard about it. It’s somewhere near here. I don’t know where, it’s near Market Square, one of those little roads going off the square, somewhere in there. I don’t go there often, you might get beaten up.

CHLOE: Yeah, Jake’s right about that; you can get beaten up by some bloke who half gone just for being on the pavement and you’re doing nothing.

KEN: A nightclub can be a rough place. My dad told me that; he used to get into a fight in one. He went to hospital once. That was good then. He was out of the house for about a week. It was good then. He’s away now, he’s not there. I’m happy.

CHLOE: That’s the advantage of not having a dad; you don’t get walloped, and he don’t come back pissed, to get into a fight. That’s what I think.

ANNE: But Chloe, you’ve got a dad, but you don’t know him, though. You can’t be born without a dad, can you? I get to see my dad from time to time, he's with another woman now, I don't know if they're going to marry, maybe they are, I don't know, don't care, too. He's okay with me.

CHLOE: Yeah, I mean I don’t have one now; he cleared off after I was born, or maybe before, I dunno. I don’t care. How about you, Jake, what does you mum tell you?

JAKE: My mum tells me go out and get what I want from the corner shop; I get a couple of quid and I get something cheap, like a doughnut so then I got money for some beer later on. I’m sneaky like that. I can get a pack of eight for a few quid; I know a bloke who works in the supermarket, and he gets me them through the rear, where the lorry comes to bring the new stuff, I get them there.

KEN: That’s clever, Jake. You’re bright to think of something like that. I wouldn’t be able to think like that even if I wanted to. The three of you are bright, that’s what I think.

JAKE: You’re a clever bloke too, Ken, don’t let people tell you otherwise.

ANNE: Yeah, Jake’s right, Ken.

CHLOE: You’re a good bloke, Ken.

KEN: Thanks, people, I like that. That’s why I like you three; you’re really nice to me.

JAKE: Chloe, you ever try to use the cake money to buy beer?

CHLOE: Yeah, I do that sometimes too. You can make quite a lot of money that way.

ANNE: Yeah, if you don’t eat much. Over a week you get quite a bit. It’s a good way to make money. That’s why I eat the slop they give us in school; just cram as many mashed potatoes in your gut and you’re full in next to no time.

JAKE: Yeah, the four of us do that everyday. It’s the weekend that’s the problem coz there’s no school lunch to fill us up. But I got a bit left from last night.

KEN: Yeah, it’s hard then. I don’t know what to do when the weekend is here.

CHLOE: Yeah, the problem we got is we live so far from each other, except Anne and me; we can’t meet you two that often. I hate that. I want to be with you guys all the time. You're the most important people in the whole world to me.

ANNE: I’m the same. You guys keep me going. I hate being on my own.

JAKE: Yeah, I know what you mean.

KEN: Me too. If I want to get to Jake’s place, I got to walk about twenty minutes; it’s okay in the summer, but when it’s cold I can’t be bothered. It’s not I don’t want to see you Jake, it’s just so cold. If I had a decent jacket it wouldn’t be so bad. But I hate cold weather.

JAKE: Me too; that’s why I can’t see Ken every night. You two are even worse; you’re even further away.

CHLOE: I hate being where I am; it’s so far from the town. I go back in the evenings and it’s like going to a prison. Once you’re there, you’re there. You ask Anne. There’s no escape. It’s horrible. And it’s dangerous to go out after sunset too. You might get attacked there. But at least Anne is there with me. We can see each other any time.

ANNE: I know what you mean. Our place is a no go area for the police, that’s what I heard people talking about in the local shop. I’m afraid to walk around there at night by myself. I just hang around Chloe’s house if her mum’s not there, or she comes to my place if my mum’s out.

JAKE: It’s okay for the rich people; they got cars and security, things like that. You got enough money for a taxi, you can go anywhere.

KEN: Yeah, you’re right there, Jake. You got money, you can do anything.

CHLOE: But the weekend’s different. We got no school; therefore we can hang out half the night.

ANNE: We got no school at all in our life soon; that’s good, that is. No school in the morning. I can’t wait. Then we can hang out together whenever we want to.

JAKE: You two are right. It’ll be real good fun then.

KEN: Yeah, you’re right again Jake. It’ll be good fun.

CHLOE: But when we finish school we got to find a job. We need money. Parents don’t give children money when they leave school. You’re supposed to be self-sufficient by then. We got to go out and begin to look for work.

ANNE: That’s right. We need money. Everyone needs money.

KEN: What’s ‘self-sufficient’ mean?

JAKE: It means you must have enough money to take care of yourself, not rely on your mum for money. You got to look after yourself by yourself, without anyone helping you.

KEN: Will you three help me though? I don’t know if I can look after myself. I’m not good at doing much.

CHLOE: You don’t worry Ken. We’re best mates, the four of us. We stick around with each other, and for each other.

ANNE: Yeah, that’s true

JAKE: You heard it, Ken. We’re with each other, through thick and thin.

KEN: That’s really good to hear. I love you people. I love you. You’re my best mates in this place, in the whole town, the whole of the country, in the world, anywhere.

CHLOE: We’re nice people, we are.

ANNE: Why is that?

JAKE: Yeah, why do you think we’re nice people?

KEN: Yeah, why?

CHLOE: Because we don’t do anything bad. We don’t steal things, or rob people, we don’t get into a fight, we don’t talk bad about other people, well, not real bad, we keep ourselves to ourselves, the teachers don’t bother us coz we don’t bother them.

ANNE: They ignore us.

JAKE: Yeah, but we ignore them!

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. It sort of works both ways. I don’t care.

CHLOE: Me too. We don’t use hard drugs; we don’t sell the stuff.

ANNE: How do you sell it? How do you get hold of it, the hard stuff I mean?

JAKE: I dunno. I suppose you ask around in pubs, but then the police can get you.

KEN: Yeah, they got informers who get paid for sneaking on you. Then you end up in prison.

CHLOE: Yeah, but it’s not for long, is it? You get out in a couple of years.

ANNE: I wonder what it’s like in a prison?


JAKE: You get locked in a cell half the time; you lie on your bed and smoke cigarettes, and read the newspaper,

KEN: I don’t smoke cigarettes. None of us do, do we?

CHLOE: No, you’re right, Ken. We don’t smoke cigarettes.

KEN: I don’t read the newspaper, either.

ANNE: Nor me. They’re a waste of money, I think. You get the news from people in school.

JAKE: What about news in other countries though? Where do you get that?

KEN: I dunno. Who cares about other countries? There are enough problems here. There are too many illegal people wandering around the place.

CHLOE: Yeah, you’re right there, Ken. I couldn’t care less what happens in other countries. I care about us four, and what we are going to do right here and now. The rest of the world can take a hike. I don’t bother them…it…whatever, and I don’t want it, or them, to bother me.

ANNE: Me too. That’s their business, their problem. I care about you three.

JAKE: Yeah, I think you’re right, the three of you are right. That’s their problem. We got enough of a problem trying to get a place we can hang about in without getting beaten up or the police nabbing us for illegal drinking, things like that.

KEN: You’re right, Jake.

ANNE: Then we world get thrown imprison, just for having a couple of cans of beer.

JAKE: You get free food in prison, that’s what I heard. I don’t think you pay for it.

KEN: That’s good. I think, if that’s true, the prisoners get better grub than me.

CHLOE: Yeah, I think they do. They don’t live on a doughnut or frozen pizza, and they don’t have to pay. They get everything.

ANNE: They don’t have to pay the electricity bill or the gas either. They get free bed clothes too. They don’t get a water bill. My mum keeps on complaining about the water bill. I think one of the pipes in the garden is leaking, that’s what I think.

JAKE: They get a uniform in prison, too.

KEN: They get a uniform, free? That’s cool. I wouldn’t mind a free uniform. Can they take it home when they leave prison? That would be so cool walking down High Street in the afternoon wearing a prison uniform. Everyone would look at you.

CHLOE: Yeah, the police would too, Ken, and throw you back in. They think you’d escaped or something like that.

KEN: Oh, maybe it’s not such a good thing.

ANNE: No, I don’t think you can take a uniform out of prison. I wonder what they eat.

JAKE: Better than we do, I think. They have a restaurant to go to. I haven’t gone to a restaurant in my life.

KEN What about the fish and chip shop? That’s a restaurant.

JAKE: No, I mean a proper restaurant, with proper food and waitresses in uniform, not the nose picking girls from form four working part time. I mean a place with soft lights and roast chicken and duck and lamb and all these kind of things. I’d like to go in one of those places, one day. Yeah, I would like to do that.

CHLOE: Me too. I went in a place once in some small town near Cwmbrân, I forget the name. It was really good. My mum’s boss treated us, oh a few years ago. I had ice cream with strawberries, yummy. I had ice cream with strawberries, yummy.

ANNE: Who’s your mum’s boss?

CHLOE: I dunno. It was many years ago. Maybe she’s got a new boss now. He came to the house a couple of times, but I didn’t see him after that. Maybe he had an argument with my mum, I dunno.

JAKE: Yeah, I want to go to a restaurant like you see on the box, with a chef in a white hat.

KEN: Me too. That’s would be good fun, real nice.

CHLOE: The problem is, people, you need money for that, and money is the one thing we don’t have much of. I can’t see where we can get money, either.

ANNE: You get money in the dole office. They give you money.

JAKE: That’s right, Anne, but it’s not enough to go to a restaurant. It’s to pay your bills and buy a bottle of milk and a loaf of bread and eggs and stuff like that.

KEN: It’s not much then?

JAKE: No, it’s peanuts, but better than nothing. I think my mum gets some money there.

KEN: Yeah.

CHLOE: I think my mum gets some money there too.

ANNE: We could get money if we turned to crime, you know, like becoming bank robbers, or hijacking a plane and getting a ransom.

JAKE: Yeah, we could, but we might get caught and go to prison for years and years. You don’t get a year or two if you hijack a plane.

CHLOE: How do you hijack a plane?

KEN: You go to an airport and get on the plane, pull out a gun and tell the pilot ‘take me to somewhere’, then you get money when you let everyone go. I saw it on the box.

ANNE: The films I know, the people who hijack a plane get shot, like bang, bang, and then they throw you off the plane to the ground, then take you away in an ambulance. I don’t want to do that.

JAKE: Nor me. There must be other ways of making money.

KEN: You get a job.

CHLOE: That’s true, Ken, but how many jobs are there around here. Half the population are unemployed. Most of the people we know don’t go to work.

KEN: Yeah, that’s true, Chloe.

ANNE: The jobs you get around here don’t pay good money, either. They’re called low paid jobs.

JAKE: Because they pay low wages, is that right?

ANNE: You got it. Who wants to work for nothing?

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. Who wants to work for nothing? Not me.

CHLOE: Hey, it’s getting late; it’s about five I think you want to make a move?

ANNE: Yeah, but where? At least here we’re out of the cold and the rain. It’s better than hanging round Market Square; we might get trouble there, too

JAKE: You’re right, Anne. Market Square can get quite rough when the shoppers have gone home. There are no police around, so no one can help you if you get trouble.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. The police won’t help because they’re not there.

CHLOE: Yeah, they’re arresting some harmless drunk or OAP who’s parked their car in the wrong place. I think that the police are afraid of criminals these days.

ANNE: Yeah, I think you’re right, Chloe. They get the unimportant people and charge them, the ones who can’t fight back. Get the tough ones, and the police run a mile.

JAKE: You’re supposed to ‘run a kilometre these days that’s the EU for you; everything going to be metric system.

KEN: What are the EU and the metric system?

CHLOE: The EU is the European Union; that’s a group of about twenty or thirty countries that make the laws for everyone in Europe. That’s why loads of people don’t like it. It takes away your own control over things, like they make a law in Europe and the government here has to follow it, even though they may not like it, but the people here got to follow it. It’s unfair and ridiculous, I think.

ANNE: It takes away our sovereignty.

JAKE: What does that mean?

KEN: Yeah, what’s ‘sovereignty’ mean?

CHLOE: It’s like your control over your own country. Is that right, Anne?

ANNE: Yeah, that’s what we were told in citizenship class; Mr. Preece told us, he’s okay; he’s quite interesting, better than some of the others. What’s the point of learning about how plants reproduce? Who wants to know rubbish like that?

JAKE: It’s okay if you want to work in a garden, but it’s not much use to me, same with experiments in the chemistry lab; what’s the point of seeing if ammonia stinks, or copper changes colour. It’s wasting time.

KEN: Yeah, you’re right; a waste of time. I want to learn how to write a cheque or use a credit card. I want to get one of those you can stick in the machine in the wall and get money, nice clean crisp money. I love the smell of it.

CHLOE: The EU wants to control everything we do, everything about our life, like what laws we follow, how big a cucumber must be, things like that. It’s horrible. Total control and we can’t do nothing about it?

KEN: How did we get into its mess in the first place? I mean, once upon a time there wasn’t an EU, is that right?

JAKE: You’re right, but the public voted for it years ago, but they didn’t know what they were letting themselves in for, that’s the problem, and once you’re in, you're in; tough if you don’t like it.

KEN: That’s terrible; that means we don’t have much freedom now,

CHLOE: You're right there, Ken. We don’t, and there’s nothing we can do about it.

ANNE: But if people voted to join, there must be some benefits?

JAKE: Maybe, but who knows what they are? I know you can go to many places with just one passport.

KEN: Yeah, is that right?

JAKE: I think so, that’s what I heard from someone who went to Europe for a holiday.

CHLOE: I keep hearing that the government tell us that the EU is a wonderful thing, good for this country, the people etc, but I can tell you one thing: I haven’t met one person who thinks it’s good or who likes it. Most people think it’s wasting money. It costs a fortune to be a member, you know that?

ANNE: Yeah, that’s what Mr. Preece told us; it costs millions every day or every week.

JAKE: But what do we get from it? As far as I know, we get nothing.

KEN: You’re right there, Jake. I think so, I think you’re right, but I dunno.

CHLOE: It hasn’t helped my mum or anyone she knows to get a job.

ANNE: Yeah, the same here; most people, when I hear them talking about the EU, think it’s useless, a bloody nuisance for the ordinary people of this country.

JAKE: Well, I look around the valleys here, and what do you see? There are loads of people without work, there’s litter everywhere, the place is rundown, half the shops are boarded up, the hospitals are filthy…you can go on and on.

KEN: The hospitals have got super germs, I read that. They got cockroaches in the food; they get sick after they go to hospital, too.

CHLOE: You’re right. It’s a sorry mess, that’s for sure. As Jake says, the place is rundown. Look at our situation here. The council closed the swimming pool, the recreation centre, there’s no skateboarding place for the young boys and girls, the schools are neglected, half the classrooms don’t have proper heating, the teachers couldn’t care less, and half of them leave every year.

ANNE: Yeah, I got three different mathematics teachers in one year once, and the last one told us the other two were teaching the wrong thing.

JAKE: The wrong course? How can they make a mistake like that?

KEN: They don’t get much money. I don’t want to be a teacher. People hate you, the work’s boring, there’s discipline problem with people swearing at you, sometimes you get hit, and you have to mark books at night, you got to mark examination papers, and at the end of the month you get little money. They work for peanuts. It’s crazy. I wouldn’t do it; it’s not worth it.

CHLOE: Yeah, I agree with Ken. I think they teach coz they can’t do anything else. I mean, if they were good at something, they’d do that; work in a bank, get real money, be a lawyer, they’re rich, or run a factory and get a big car. I think teaching’s for losers. That’s what I think.

ANNE: Yeah, you’re right, Chloe, that’s really well said, yeah, you got a good way with words, doesn’t she Jake?

JAKE: Yeah, it’s like poetry in motion when Chloe talks from time to time.

KEN: I think Chloe’s brilliant. I like the way you explain so clear like, it helps me a lot, you know.

CHLOE: Thanks, you two. I like both of you too. It’s nice talking to someone who appreciates you. When I open my mouth at home, my mum say ‘shut up, I’m on the phone’, or ‘keep quiet, I’m watching the box’. I don’t talk much in the house.

ANNE: It’s the same for me, especially if mum’s got a bloke round for the night. I don’t see her then. They’re upstairs most of the time. I just park my butt in front of the box and eat a packet of crisps…I eat three or four packets in one night; then I get thirsty. I got to get a couple of glasses of water, or a couple of cans of beer, if my mum got some in the house.

JAKE: Yeah? What flavour do you like, what’s your favourite? Mine’s lamb, I like them. I imagine I’m eating roast lamb with roast potatoes, that’s why I keep my eyes shut, then I can imagine it. If you open your eyes and you see the wall of the room, it’s clear you haven’t got real lamb. I pretend its lamb, but it doesn’t work every time.

ANNE: I know what you mean. I like cheese and onion, then smoky bacon. Cheese and onion are good with a beer.

KEN: I don’t like cheese and onion. My favourite is salt and vinegar. They go with a coke. I haven’t had cheese and onion with a beer. We could try that tonight.

CHLOE: I like cheese and onion too. Yeah, that’s a good suggestion from Ken. I think we each get a couple of packets of crisps, but they must contain a different flavouring in them, then we can swap them when we’re having a drink later on tonight.

ANNE: When we meet tonight at the bus shelter, we bring a couple of packets of crisps each, right?

JAKE: That’s a good idea, then we got something to nibble. That’ll be good; it helps pass the evening. I’ll get lamb and I’ll get… something else. Chloe can get another type.

CHLOE: I’ll get cheese and onion and bacon.

KEN: I’ll get something that not cheese and onion or bacon or lamb. How’s that?

ANNE: That’s good, Ken. I’ll get…what else is there? Half the time the shop doesn’t have to complete range…I could get some peanuts, or cashew nuts. We like them. Is that okay with you three?

CHLOE: Yeah, that’s okay. Ken, how about you…okay, Jake…okay with you? Right, that’s that, Anne. You’re the nutty girl tonight.

JAKE: Good girl, Nutty Anne, and Chloe is Crispy Chloe, too.

KEN: Where are we going to get some beer? They refuse to serve me coz I’m too short; they think I’m under age.

CHLOE: You are, you nutcase. They want to raise the age to twenty one, just because a few idiots can’t handle their booze. We drink, but we don’t get pissed out of our minds, we’re pretty good like that.

ANNE: Yeah, the four of us are, but I can get some from my house. My mum keeps beer and other stuff in, and if I take a few, she doesn’t notice.

JAKE: Yeah, I know one of my neighbours quite well, and he goes in and gets a pack for me, but he won’t buy the hard stuff, just beer. I promised I’d keep my mouth shut coz he said if I tell anyone, he might get into trouble, coz he’s breaking the law, and the police might be waiting by the shop.

KEN: Yeah, you got to be careful; the police are everywhere.

CHLOE: I know a woman who gets me some if I buy her a packet of cigarettes.

JAKE: You can’t buy cigarettes; you’re too young.

CHLOE: I mean I give her the money for a packet, then the money for booze, and she gets the booze for me; I get it away from the shop, in case they got one of those cameras. She’s a nice lady. She doesn’t yell at you.

ANNE: Yeah, I know her. She’s kind to the young people. I heard she was in prison once.

CHLOE: Me too.

KEN: What for? Did she butcher someone, or hijack a train?

CHLOE: dunno. She was only in there for about a month or two.

ANNE: I think she refused to pay tax.

CHLOE: Oh, yeah, that’s right. She’s a hero for that; a heroine; power to the people thing.

JAKE: I think half the people in this town have gone to prison one time or another, or at least they got into trouble with the police.

KEN: That’s right, Jake. I know loads of people who went brushing with the law.

CHLOE: It’s called social inequality. About ten percent of the population of this country own over ninety percent of the money, like housing, property, land, business, and banks, and so on. It’s immoral.

ANNE: Yeah, that's true, and people like us got nothing; it’s not fair, it isn’t.

JAKE: We want to have a revolution here; they did that in France years ago, and kicked out the king and queen. I learned about that in History class.

KEN: Why did they kick them out?

CHLOE: Because the people were fed up with the rich people who were having everything and poor having little or nothing. That was in about 1700, I think, years ago. It was 1789, that’s right.

ANNE: 1789…it’s not hard to get it, coz the numbers follow each other, the 7, then the 8, then the 9.

JAKE: That’s a good way to think of it Anne, I’ll try that myself in future.

KEN: Yeah, that’s right. The French Revolution 1789, is that right?


CHLOE: That’s it, Ken, well done, boyo. We educate each other when we hang about together here.

ANNE: They had a slogan too. The people were chanting in the street something like 'Liberty, Equality and…’ something else, I forget.

JAKE: It begins with F, but I forget.

KEN: Foreigners?

CHLOE: No, they didn’t go around talking about that.
ANNE: Frat something. Fraternity, that’s it, fraternity.

JAKE: What’s that mean? That’s the part of the hospital where women give birth, isn’t it?

KEN: That’s right; you can see the sign on the main road; the Fraternity Unit, something like that.

CHLOE: No, that’s Maternity Unit. Maternity means mother things, mother and baby things. No, fraternity is like everyone‘s your pal, you mate, kind of universal ‘I love you’ thing.

ANNE: We’re brothers and sisters thing.

JAKE: Yeah, that makes sense. But I don’t think everyone is my brother and sister. I haven’t got a brother or a sister back home.

KEN: Me neither.

CHLOE: I got an elder sister, but she left home a couple of years ago and I haven’t seen her since. She went to Newcastle in England, or somewhere near there. I think she went with some bloke who works in a chemical factory. I bet he stinks when he comes home at night. Probably got poisoned skin, stuff like that.

ANNE: Yeah, you’re right. I got a brother, but he left home too, after a blazing row with my mum, and we haven’t seen him since then, and that was four years back. I hope he’s okay, but we didn’t talk much to me. When I was in form two, he used to call me a slut, and at that time, I didn’t know what it meant.

JAKE: Why did he do that?

ANNE: I dunno. I think it was I used to mix with the boys, and wore a skirt, something like that. I don’t care if I don’t see him again. I don’t think we got the same father, I’m sure of that. My mum almost told me that. She used to talk about his father, and then my father like they were two different blokes. I don’t care. I’m not getting two different blokes with me. One is enough.

KEN: You’re right there, Anne, that’s good thinking. You can’t have two blokes coming home all the time.

CHLOE: Yeah, I agree with both of you. I know that from my place, when I see a different bloke hanging round for the evening or night. I don’t like it, and I don’t like them. Some of them are rich, you can tell from their clothes and they got a nice car parked out the front too.

ANNE: If you want to get rich, you can become a pop group. We got two boys and two girls; we could be like that group from Sweden, what’s their name?

KEN: Abba.

JAKE: Yeah, well done Ken, that’s right Abba. They made a fortune.

KEN: You think we could be like Abba? That would be brilliant. We’d get loads of money, get nice clothes, get a big car.

ANNE: But we don’t know how to sing, and we can’t play an instrument. So how we’re going to make a group?

CHLOE: Yeah, Anne’s got a good point there. We can’t sing, and we can’t play anything.

KEN: We can play the fool; we’re good at that!

JAKE: That’s right, Ken’s right. We know how to play the fool!

ANNE: Ken, you’re real funny at times, you know.

CHLOE: That’s funny, Ken, that’s funny, isn’t it?

JAKE: Yeah.

KEN: I like making jokes that make people laugh. I don’t see many people laughing round here these days, do you?

JAKE: No, you’re right there, Ken.

ANNE: Maybe Ken can get a job with a theatre group as a comedian.

CHLOE: Then people would come to see ‘The Ho, ho, ho show with No-no Ken’.

ANNE: Chloe, you’re brilliant!

KEN: I love it, I love you, Chloe!

JAKE: You’re a genius Chloe, I mean Yoyo Chloe.

CHLOE: Thank you, Anne the Can and Jake the Cake.

Anne, Jake and Ken fall around in hysterics, Chloe is chewing gum, looking at her fingers again

CHLOE: When you bunch have finished acting like crazy monkeys that are on drugs, we can talk about tonight.

JAKE: Crazy monkeys! Ah…

KEN: Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha…

ANNE: I feel sick; I’m a crazy druggie monkey!

CHLOE: I think you should come up to the bus shelter tonight, and then the three of you can sit on the top of it eating a banana, just like a monkey in a tree.

The three collapse again

CHLOE: There was a group called The Monkees once, four blokes, really good, they wrote some good songs too.

KEN: I ain’t heard of them.

JAKE: Me too.

ANNE: I heard the name, but I don’t know anything about them.

CHLOE: Me too. I bet they made a lot of money. What’s your favourite group, Jake?

JAKE: I dunno, I don’t have special group, I don’t listen to much music.

ANNE: Nor me. I mean, I listen to music but I don’t have special group. I like Westlife though, they’re cute.

KEN: I like them, too. My mum tells me to keep the stereo down, so I don’t listen too much. I like most things, I think. I don’t like anything that is quite loud, because my mum goes nuts, plus I don’t like noise anyway. I’m a quiet bloke. I like quiet.

JAKE: Yeah, you are, Ken. You’re a quiet bloke, and a nice bloke.

ANNE: I think we’re all quiet people. None of us is a big mouth.

CHLOE: That’s right, when we’re together, we keep it quiet.

A long reflective pause

JAKE: Hey, you see this map here, where are we?

KEN: That’s a world map. We’re too small to be on it.

ANNE: No, we should be there. Look for an island, people.

CHLOE: Yeah, we want an island near Europe.

JAKE: Up here I think.

KEN: Is this it?

ANNE: No, that’s Australia. We’re looking in the other place, up there top left, up here somewhere here….

CHLOE: There we are. That’s us there.

JAKE: We’re tiny. Most other places are bigger than us.

KEN: Why’s that?

ANNE: Because we’re…

CHLOE: Because we’re not big, that’s why. I don’t know why. It’s the way things are.

JAKE: But why do people tell us we’re important in the world if we’re so small?

KEN: That’s right, Jake. If we’re small, how come people think we’re important?

ANNE: That’s a good question, Ken, a good question. I don’t think people think we’re important, but the government likes to think that it’s important, and they always want to get involved in other people’s business, even when they don’t want you to come.

CHLOE: You’re right, Anne. That’s why we got so many problems with immigrants in this country. We bomb them to bits, then they flee and come here. Half the world seems to live here now.

JAKE: That’s right, Chloe. I think there’s going to be trouble in the future; too many people with too many different ways of life living in the same place will create problems for everyone.

KEN: I think that’s right, Jake, although not here, at least for now.

ANNE: That’s because most foreigners don’t come to this part of the country, but if you look at parts of England, there’s trouble there already; people are fighting, you can’t walk in some parts of the cities, the towns, and it’ll get worse, that’s for sure, don’t you think?

CHLOE: Yeah, Anne, you’re right, girl, there’ll be worse to come. But that’s their problem.

JAKE: Yeah, that’s their problem, although I feel sorry for a lot of the people who have to put up with it.

KEN: Yeah, I agree with you both, I mean with the three of you. It’s going to get worse.

ANNE: I read in one of the newspaper that there was a minister in the government, some woman, who said she wouldn’t go out at night because it wasn’t safe; but she expects the rest of the population to go out and put up with the trouble and the danger and all that; typical bloody politician, one rule for us, one for them.

CHLOE: They’re rich too. Let them come here and try walking around at night; they’d be on the first train to London. They make me sick.

JAKE: Yeah, you’re right, both of you. You get told that the country’s safe, but everyday you hear about someone getting killed, or raped, or beaten up or mugged. It’s a bloody awful place, but I think they don’t tell you the truth, not the whole truth. I think loads of people are migrating; I read about people who go to France or somewhere just to get away.

KEN: I don’t blame them. It’s a pity we’re too young to go at the moment. Maybe when we’re older, we could get a plane and disappear from here.

ANNE: That, I like the sound of, Ken. The four of us going somewhere, must be warm and peaceful, no fighting, and plenty of things to do in the evening.

CHLOE: Hear, hear.

KEN: What, you want to remain here?

CHLOE: No, I said; ‘Hear, hear’. It means I agree with what Anne just said about going somewhere, migrating.

JAKE: Oh, I get it. It’s like in the Parliament when they say ‘Hear, hear’, like that, is it?

CHLOE: That’s right.

KEN: I always wondered what ‘hear, hear’ meant. I thought it was like the teacher taking our names in the morning, registration like, taking the attendance.

JAKE: No, Ken, it’s not like that.

KEN: Right, I get it. I learn a lot from you three. You’re real kind to me. Not many other people are.

ANNE: We’re your best mates, Ken, don’t forget that.

CHLOE: Yeah, she’s right, Ken.

JAKE: You know that, Ken. You’re one of us. We’re with you.

KEN: Thanks, guys, I appreciate it.

ANNE: What can we do to be famous?

CHLOE: Why do you want to be famous?

ANNE: If we’re famous, we can make some money.

JAKE: Not always true, Anne. You can become famous for the wrong reason, then there’s no money.

KEN: Like what? Give me an example.

JAKE: Um, if you were to derail a train, let’s imagine you want to cause the Cwmbrân to Abergavenny train to go off the rails, you’d become famous when the police caught you, wouldn’t you? You’d get your picture in the newspaper, and the neighbours would interviewed about you, and everyone in school would know about you, and maybe the goggle box would have the story too, but… what about the money? You’re not going to make money from that. In fact, you might be worse off, if they fine you. You get a fifty pound fine for setting off the braking thing on the train.

ANNE: I see what you mean.

CHLOE: You wouldn’t just get fifty pound fine if the whole bloody train came of the tracks; that’s a couple of hundred, at least, and a couple of years in the choky too. No, that’s playing with fire.

JAKE: What if one of the passengers got hurt? You’d be in it then.

KEN: My mum would clobber me too.

JAKE: My mum would whack me with her bloody umbrella I expect.

ANNE: My mum wouldn’t notice, I don’t think.

CHLOE: Mine wouldn’t worry too much. She‘d go round boasting about it. ‘Hey, you know that train derailment near Abergavenny? That’s my girl did that, Chloe’s her name, I didn’t think she had the brains to knock a train off the track, I' m proud of her though, and there were no serious injuries, apart from a couple of amputations when they couldn’t release the trapped passengers, oh, Chloe, I said to myself, what a fighting temper you got girl, you got imagination I give you that, here’s ten quid, get yourself a couple of bottles, love.’ That’s what she’d tell everyone.

JAKE: At least you’d make her proud of you.

KEN: That’s true; you’d be famous, too.

CHLOE: I don’t want to be famous because I put people in the hospital and caused a couple of million quid’s’ damage to Arriva Trains, thank you. And I don’t want to spend ten years in a cell either, even if the food is free, and I can eat as many mashed potatoes as I like. No, thank you.

ANNE: I think Chloe’s got a good point. We’d better leave the railway network alone if we want to be famous.

CHLOE: Right.

JAKE: I agree.

KEN: Me too.

ANNE: We could become professional hit men.

CHLOE: You and I would be hit women though.

ANNE: Yeah, of course.

JAKE: But where would you get a gun?

KEN: We don’t have to use a gun; we could use poison gas, or a rope, or tie them to a concrete block and chuck it in the Usk. We’d get a lot of business these days. I seen that on films. They get paid a lot.

ANNE: Yeah, but it means having to kill someone; I don’t want to do that. What happens if they said ‘we’ll pay you a thousand quid, plus free lunch with drink, if to get rid of Mr. Preece, How could you talk to him? It would be embarrassing, at least.

CHLOE: Yeah, not nice. ‘Yeah, sorry Mr Preece; thanks for being a nice teacher, but we’ve got to dump you in the Bristol Channel in the next hour.’ No, I can’t do that.

KEN: If you dump someone in the water, who pays for the concrete? You have to pay, or the person who hires you gets the concrete for you?

ANNE: I dunno. I didn’t think about that.

CHLOE: We’ll try to find out. Who knows, it might come in useful one day, I don’t know.

JAKE: We could specialise; we just do people in England and Scotland that we don’t know.

KEN: Yeah, that’s good, Jake.

ANNE: No, I’m not into that sort of thing. I like watching it on a film, but not doing it in real life, that’s just me.

CHLOE: I agree with Anne. We have to think of something else.

JAKE: We should be thinking about making a move; I think the heating’s off, and it’s beginning to get chilly.

KEN: Yeah, you’re right, Jake. It’s beginning to get chilly.

ANNE: You got a jacket, Ken?

KEN: No, I didn’t bring one today. I can jog home, and then I can warm up. I’m not that cold at the moment.

CHLOE: Me too; I can manage a bit longer in here.

JAKE: If you lot want to carry on, I’m with you. I got nothing at home anyway. I’d rather be with you any day, that’s certain.

KEN: Yeah, me too.

ANNE: Me too. It’s better here than going home to a packet pizza and a coke.

CHLOE: I know what you mean. I hate going home.

JAKE: Me too. I don’t fancy a doughnut tonight. I want to get fish and chips.

KEN: Yeah, I’m the same.

ANNE: Right, I have a plan. We wait here until the fish and chip place opens, then we go down there –

CHLOE: Hey, you know what Anne just said? She said we wait till the fish and chip place opens, didn’t she? Well, they have plaice in the fish and chip place; get it…plaice and place; P-L-A-I-C-E and P-L-A-C-E; that’s funny.

JAKE: Yeah, that’s good Chloe; you’re quick on things like that.

KEN: I like that Chloe, yeah, plaice and place. That’s good, that is, it’s funny.

ANNE: May I continue? Thank you.

CHLOE: It’s not May, it’s July!

JAKE: Oh, Chloe.

KEN: I don’t get that.

ANNE: Yes, Chloe, very amusing. Right, we go to get fish and chips, then we walk up to the bus shelter. On the way there, we get some beer and other stuff if we can, and we spend a few hours hanging around there. It’s not raining, so shouldn’t be too bad up there. We phone our mothers and let them know we’ll be back late; we’re going to a party or something, not that they care anyway, but that keeps us in the clear.

CHLOE: Yeah, they can’t tell us later that they didn’t know we were out. And we’re not lying coz we are going to a party, but it’s a party for the four of us in a bus shelter. What’s wrong with that?

JAKE: Nothing as far as I’m concerned; sounds fine with me.

KEN: Yeah, me too. Then when we go home, Jake and I can walk you some of the way back, and then we split up, Jake and I go that way, Chloe and Anne go that way. How’s that?

ANNE: That’s fine with me. Chloe, how about you?

CHLOE: Yep, that’s okay with me. We’ll have nice evening together, no hassle, get a bit high, just got to watch out for the fuzz, that’s the main problem with the bus stop.

JAKE: I got an idea; why don’t we go around the corner and into the road by the primary school; we could clamber over the fence, and hang around in the yard for a few hours. Nobody can see us; it’s quiet round there.

KEN: That’s true.

ANNE: But what happens if we get caught? That’s trespassing; we’d be in big league trouble.

CHLOE: No one’s gonna catch us in there. Who goes down there at night? There’s no pub, no nothing there, just a few houses with old people; it’s a perfect place for us to hang out in.

KEN: I like that; ‘hang out in’. That’s funny.

JAKE: Yeah, it is. Chloe’s often funny. She’s the intellectual of the group, that’s for sure.

ANNE: You’re right there, Jake.

KEN: What’s ‘intellectual’ mean?

ANNE: It’s like very brainy, you like thinking about things.

JAKE: It’s the opposite of being as thick as two short planks, know what I mean?

KEN: Yeah, I get it. Chloe’s intellectual alright. She’s brainy, not like me.

JAKE: You’re not an idiot, Ken. You mustn’t let people put you down; you’ve got good things other people don’t have, doesn’t he?

ANNE: That’s right, Ken. You’re kind and honest, and you don’t swear…very much.

CHLOE: You can draw cartoons, too; that’s being intelligent. Most people can’t draw a cartoon, they can’t draw full stop. They’re thick, not you.

JAKE: Maybe one day Ken will become a famous cartoonist or make a film like ‘Ice Age’.

CHLOE: Yeah, an animated film; you think positive, Ken, you don’t let older and bigger people put you down or push you around, you hear.

KEN: Yeah, thank you, guys. You’re my real pals. You’re what are important to me in my life here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

JAKE: We’re here when you need us, Ken.

ANNE: Yeah.

CHLOE: Jake’s right, Ken. We’re with you.

KEN: Thank you, you’re real kind to me.

CHLOE: Anyone got anything to eat? I’m a bit peckish right now.

JAKE: I think I got an apple from lunch…here, take that. I don’t want any.

KEN: I got a half Mars bar here if anyone wants it? Anne, you like it?

ANNE: Okay, I’ll have a bite; I’ll share it with you, Ken. Jake, you want some?

JAKE: No, thanks. You two go and eat. I’m okay.

CHLOE: You always tell people that, Jake. You know what I think? I think Jake pretends he’s not hungry so that we can eat; if he wants to eat, there’s not enough to go round for everyone. Is that true, Jake?
JAKE: No, of course not.

ANNE: Tell us the truth, Jake. We promised not to lie to each other.

KEN: That’s right, Jake; you got to tell the truth.

JAKE: Well, okay, maybe I’m a bit hungry, but I’m bigger than you three, and I got extra body energy; I don’t want you guys to go hungry. I can last longer than you; I got stamina, I think. I try to manage without it.

ANNE: Oh, Jake, that’s kind of you, but you must eat, isn’t that right?

CHLOE: Yeah, thanks a million, Jake, but you got to eat too.

JAKE: I’m not that hungry, honest. I’m happy when you eat; I can see you need it. You go and eat. I’m not that hungry yet. I will be later when I small those fish and chips, though. I’ll be hungry then.

KEN: That’s nice of you, Jake. That’s real kind and generous and …nice. I’ll be hungry when I get to the fish and chip place, too.

JAKE: I eat lots of potatoes for lunch, too. That fills me up, lots of carbo…things in potatoes. You don’t worry about me, I’m okay.

CHLOE: Carbohydrates, that’s what potatoes are. They give you energy, they fill your gut up, then you don’t get hungry. Potatoes do that for you.

ANNE: That’s one reason why we like you so much, Jake; you’re kind to us, you take care, make sure we’re okay.

CHLOE: You’re a good bloke, Jake.

JAKE: It’s nothing; you’re my mates. We’re a group.

KEN: What they said is true, Jake. You’re kind and nice to Chloe and Anne and me; we like you for that. We’re a group of good mates; we’re a good mate group.

ANNE: Yeah, I like that; a good mate group. That’s a good way to talk, Ken. It’s like a poem. ‘We’re a group of good mates; we’re a good mate group.’

CHLOE: Yeah, you’re right, Anne; it is like a poem. It’s Ken’s poem.

JAKE: You must think of some other things too, Ken.

KEN: Yeah, I’m going to be a poet. I’ll make up some things for you. I have to think about it. I might be a long time…like a year or two.

ANNE: You can do it in less time than that, Ken. You’ve got a good way with words; I think you can make a poem.

CHLOE: Anne’s right, Ken. Go on, give it a try. I don’t mean this minute, but in the next week or two. You can write about our good mate group.

JAKE: Yeah, you’re brilliant, Chloe.

KEN: Okay, I’ll try.

Ken goes to a table away from the others. He takes a pen and paper and begins to write.

ANNE: I wonder what Ken can write. He’s working already.

CHLOE: If we leave him in peace, maybe he can write something nice.

JAKE: Yeah, he’s a good bloke. You can see him concentrating now, can’t you?

ANNE: Yeah, his dad’s a real bastard, isn’t he? How can a big man like that hit a
little bloke like Ken?

CHLOE: He’s a fucking bully, that’s how, and why. I bet if you got another big guy to fight, he’s run a bloody mile.

JAKE: Yeah, he’s a typical coward, that’s what I think. He hasn’t spoken to me when I go round to Ken’s house.

ANNE: That’s because you’re much bigger than Ken. He’s frightened of you, I expect. No one wants to pick a fight with you, Jake.

CHLOE: I think Anne’s right. You’re too big for most of them. They won’t take you on. Why don’t the three of us go home with Ken one day and see what happens. We let Ken go in the house first, and then go in a couple of minutes after that.

JAKE: Then we would be able to see for sure what was going on. That’s a good plan, Chloe.

ANNE: Yeah, Chloe’s right and you’re right too, Jake. We must find out what is going on, but not tonight. Ken’s father isn’t there at the moment.

CHLOE: That’s good to hear; he’s buggered off somewhere, meaning Ken can get a few day of peace and quiet. I’ll be glad when he’s able to leave home for good, get a place to rent.

JAKE: Me, too. That’s just a couple of years from now. Then Ken can be free and do what he wants to do without fear or worry.

ANNE: But we’ll take care of him, that’s the important thing.

CHLOE: You’re right, Anne. Each one takes care of the other one; that should be our motto.

ANNE: That’s a pretty cool motto, but it’s true. I think it will always be true.

CHLOE: You got it, Anne. Isn’t that right, Jake, we take care of each other, isn’t that right?

JAKE: Yeah, you two are like sisters to me. I love you both.

ANNE: I love you too, Jake.

CHLOE: Me too, Jake.

JAKE: We’re special, I think, because we’re so close, not like others who pretend they care about each other, but then go backstabbing and talking behind their back etc.

ANNE: Here’s the hero Ken, no-no Ken. What did you write? Did you write anything? Can we hear it?

CHLOE: Come on, Ken. I want to hear it.

KEN: Right, hear this, my new poem; well, it’s my first poem. Here we go:

My name is Ken,
they call me no-no Ken
coz I got nowhere to go.

When I go home, I walk there without being happy;
my dad, in the right mood, might beat me up
if he don’t like the look of me, or I drop grub on the table
or if I cry in fear when I spill milk from my cup.

I know my mate Chloe likes me,
I know my mate Anne likes me too,
then there’s my mate Jake,
they help me get through.

Jake is like the boss of our group,
he keeps us together, makes sure we’re alright,
when we finish school, and the evening comes by,
we go for fish and chips on a Friday night.

My name is Ken,
they call me no-no Ken
coz I got nowhere to go.

ANNE: Oh, Ken, I want to cry.

CHLOE: It’s beautiful, Ken. You are brilliant. It’s very…emotional, I think.

JAKE: Ken the poet. You’re a bright boy, Ken. I like it, and I like it when you talk about me taking care of you.

ANNE: Me too, Ken. I agree with Jake. You got it up here.

CHLOE: I agree with both of them. I’m…I think…the poem is very…touching.

JAKE: Ken the poet, Ken the artist, why not change your name to Ken the Pen?

CHLOE: Brilliant, Jake.

ANNE: Yeah, Ken the Pen; I like that. A name for a poet and a cartoon bloke.

KEN: Yeah, thanks, Jake. I'm Ken the Pen, and one day I'm going to make a cartoon film with the three of you in the film, too.

CHLOE: Go for it, Ken.

JAKE: Yeah, you go for it, boyo. You got to write a poem with Ken the Pen now, boyo.

KEN: Yeah!

ANNE: Hey, what’s the time now? It’s about five thirty, it must be.

KEN: Yeah, it must be about that.

ANNE: It’s five forty, people. We better get going. The caretaker will be along and he might kick us out, or report us to the principal. I don’t want to get into trouble with the principal; he might call our parents…I mean my mum.

CHLOE You’re right. We had better make a move. I want to go to get fish and chips in the town. I’m getting hungry now.

JAKE: Me too, Chloe. I think we better get our skates on, people, in case the caretaker pops in. Hang on, let me check.

Jake exit

KEN: Where’s Jake going?

ANNE: He’s checking on the whereabouts of the caretaker, just in case he’s near here. It should take him a minute or two. Maybe the caretaker won’t be in tonight, as it’s Friday. That might be the case on a Friday, that he doesn’t work.

CHLOE: Yeah, you might be right, Anne. I don’t think I seen him around on a Friday, I can’t think of when I saw him on a Friday.

KEN: Maybe the caretaker’s gone to get fish and chips too. We might see him in the fish and chip bar. I think he must like fish and chips; most people do after a day at work. I know I like fish and chips, we like fish and chips. Maybe the caretaker likes fish and chips too. Mind you, it’s quite early for a man to get fish and chips, they get fish and chips about eight o’clock, don’t they? Is that right, Anne?

ANNE: Yeah, I think so; you don’t see many adults in the fish and chip place after school. They come in later on. I know a girl who works in another place and she told me that, that the adults eat fish and chips at a different time to the children I don’t care though. I eat fish and chips when I want to, if I can get the money.

CHLOE: That’s the problem; if I can get the money. It’s always money, money, money. Why have some people got millions when other people got zilch? It makes me sick, I want to throw up when I think of the inequalities here. The rich got everything; the poor got bugger any thing. The rich don’t have to go out on a cold night in winter just to get fish and chips, watching the pence in their purses, oh no, they got a maid or something to do it for them, they eat the quality food, whilst we got to wait under a fucking bus shelter with a leaking roof just for something to do, that’s what we got. They tell us go out and do something, but you need money to do that. How are we going to go to the…theatre…a concert…a nice restaurant…etc…when we got nothing? You tell me how. I don’t know. They make me want to throw up.

KEN: You’re getting angry, Chloe, and don’t cry. I don’t like it when you cry.

ANNE: Come here, sweet pea, don’t cry, love. I know you feel about these things, but there’s nothing we can do, is there? No point in getting upset. I hate the buggers as much as you, you know that. Ken and Jake are the same, too, isn’t that right, Ken?

KEN: Yeah, I hate them too. They got the money and everything, we got nothing. I wish I had enough money to go somewhere nice, and get away from my horrible dad. I hate him , and I hate people with so much money.

CHLOE: I’m sorry, I just lost it there. I’m okay now. But I still hate them, for what they done to our people and our place here. They just left us, while they taker everything. The politicians are a fucking joke; they’re lining their pockets with gold etc, every single one of them.

Jake enter

JAKE: I’m back; you can take your time, there’s no one around…what wrong with Chloe? Chloe, come here, what’s up?

KEN: I think that she got uptight about the politician and things here, they taker the money and don’t get any for the people, something like that, is that right, Chloe?

CHLOE: Yeah, Ken is right. I got uptight and began to cry. I’m okay now. I can get it why we got nothing, ewe can just about get fish and chips a few times a week, while there are the rich bastards who have millions, and they do nothing to help people. I hate them, I hate the way things are, I hate this fucking country.

ANNE: Calm down, Chloe, it’s okay. We got enough for tonight. We’ll get a few beers and have a drink and then we’ll be okay, alright?

CHLOE: Yeah, okay. Come on, Jake, and Anne, and Ken, come on, let’s get out of here and go and get some fish and chips, get some beer and then we can have the evening together. That’s the nicest thing; you three. I got you three to be with in the evening. That’s what I look forward to everyday, just to be with you three.

KEN: Thanks, Chloe. I feel the same, too. You’re a nice young woman, Anne too, and Jake a good bloke.

ANNE: You’re nice people. That’s why I like you.

CHLOE: Yeah, Anne’s right there.

JAKE: Yeah, I agree; you’re good blokes; I couldn’t have better mates than you guys, no, I couldn’t.

KEN: Yeah, I agree with the lot of you. I love you people.

ANNE: Why? Is it because we’re brilliant?

CHLOE: Or that we’re intelligent?

JAKE: Or that we’re just a good bunch of people?

KEN: I dunno; maybe because of the three of them. I just love you.

ANNE: Hold my hand, here.

CHLOE: That’s nice, Anne. You take care of Ken.

JAKE: Yeah, she does take care.

KEN: Why?

ANNE: Coz I love you.

CHLOE: Hold my hand, too, Jake, coz I love you, too.

JAKE: Right. We’re good mates; that’s what we are. We’re a good mate group. I love each of you.

KEN: Yeah, I agree. We’re a good mate group. I love you, Anne, I love you, Chloe; I love you, Jake.

CHLOE: I love my good mate group. I think you’re brilliant, too. A brilliant good mate group!

JAKE: Right on, funky good mate group. Fish and chips, here we come.

ANNE: Me too, I love my good mate group. Thank you, Ken. I love you.

They embrace in a group, lights out, music ‘Coz I luv you’, curtain.

The End

Breaking apart

A play in one act

Richard Homer
© Richard Homer 2008

Cast of charactersGWEN c 40, a worker in a butcher’s shop

GWYN c 19, her son, just finishing secondary school

IEUAN c 17, her second son, finishing lower secondary school

GERAINT c 50-55, the father and husband, a worker in a factory warehouse

The play takes place in the present time.

Opening music:
Closing music:

At rise: The afternoon in the sitting room in Gwen and Geraint’s house, with coffee table, three arm chairs, sofa, book, trophy cupboard, painting, bookcase; on the table, newspaper, magazine, mug or two. Gwen is in one armchair, with a mug of tea, looking at a magazine. Quiet pop music on the stereo, Gwyn enters.

GWEN: Hi there, how are you? You finished school early this afternoon.

GWYN: No, usual time, but I was in the library reading, doing a bit of research. You’re early, though. Why aren’t you at work?

GWEN: Because I got the afternoon off. I got a bit of the morning off too, there wasn’t much happening, so the manager said I could go home, and I did just that. I didn’t want to hang around waiting for someone to suggest work for me, the manager might change his mind, so out I came, quick. I worked overtime last weekend, didn’t I?

GWYN: Come again? Oh, yes, that’s right, Mum, I’d forgotten.

GWEN: Turn the music off, there’s good boy. That’s better.

GWYN: I can hear you now. What are you reading?

GWEN: Woman’s Own; I don’t buy it every week, but I enjoy it now and then. It says here Shirley Bassey’s releasing another single. That’ll be good, must get that. It’s a bit expensive, but I’ll try to find the money. It’ll be worth it with her, I can tell you. What’s wrong with you now?

GWYN: Nothing’s wrong; it just that it depresses me when I see how little money there is to go round, especially at the end of the month.

GWEN: Right, next time, I won’t mention anything. But as we’re on the subject of money, welcome to the real world; we’re no different from many of the people around here, they’re all tight for money. At least we got this place, even if the mortgage has another twenty years to run. Keep your fingers crossed that your Dad doesn’t lose his job. Then we’d be in a right pickle.

GWYN: I know. Well, I don’t know, but I get the idea. What’s for dinner tonight?

GWEN: Our regular – fish and chips from Jones’, the same as we always get on a Friday evening. What’s the time, by the way?

GWYN: Four forty.

GWEN: It’s later than I thought; I lose track of the time when I’m reading.

GWYN: You want me to go and get them? I’ll pop out if you want. You can keep on with your magazine in here.

GWEN: No, you fool, it’s too early. Wait another hour or so. No point in getting fish and chips and then eating them cold, they’re horrible then.

GWYN: I wasn’t going to get the now, Mum; I was offering to get them for you, you know like run an errand for you, that sort of thing. I’m not daft enough to get them an hour before dinner when both Dad and Ieuan aren’t here. What do you take me for, a complete idiot?

GWEN: I’m sorry, my love, I didn’t mean it that way. No, you’re a bright boy, and I’m proud of you. That’s interesting; there’s this woman who became captain of one of these big planes, carrying passengers. I expect she got connections, though. You can’t be a captain of a plane without connections, that what I think.

GWYN: Maybe she was well qualified; plenty of women fly these days.

GWEN: In that case, how come I don’t see them on the box? Every pilot I have seen is a man. The man who crashed the plane at Heathrow a few months ago was a bloke and the captain was too.

GWYN: Well, if he was a bloke, he must be a man, and he didn’t crash it, he stopped it from crashing.

GWEN: Well, in the photograph I saw in the newspaper and the film on the box, it didn’t look like a complete plane to me; one of the wheels came off.

Gwen drinks tea, keeps on reading. Gwyn looks around, doesn’t know what to think.

GWEN: Right; how was your day, did you have a good time.

GWYN: The same as usual; of course I had a good time there. You know I like going to school. I’m one of the few that seem to enjoy work. To me, study is interesting. I don’t think of homework as work. It’s like a hobby.

GWEN: Yeah, we know that. But just studying isn’t going to get you a well paid job.

GWYN: You keep reminding me, Mum. Oh, we got our examination timetable today; we begin on the 20 May, and finish on 2 July. The papers I’m taking are quite nicely spread out, and I get the three tough ones early on, too. I’m pretty pleased with it. The Science practicals are first. They’re the ones to get out of the way. You make a mistake there, and you’re finished. You can’t erase anything, as you can in an essay, or change the answer. You mix in the wrong things, or heat them too much, and bang goes your result. If you’re not careful, it might go bang in real life colour, too.

GWEN: That’s good, then, isn’t it? Oh, I must read that later; it’s to do with getting a second bank account. Right, I suppose you’re still thinking about going to university, are you? I know your dad’s not to keen on that. He, like me, doesn’t see the need for it. You want to get a job round here, find a nice girl and settle down. Going to university now is expensive, and you’ll be saddled with a debt hanging round your neck like a concrete block for the next four or five years, that’s what I heard from people and what I read in the newspapers. Years ago they gave you a grant or something; now, you get the cash yourself; borrow from the bank or something. It was different years ago; it was different then. That’s what I think.

GWYN: Yes, I know what you and he think, but I think different. I want to go to university to study science; what, I’m not sure yet. I really want to see where my strength is before I commit myself. I think it’ll be life sciences, though. That’s my main area of interest.

GWEN: I can’t help you there, I don’t know enough about it, or going to university. I didn’t have the chance, and if I had, I wouldn’t have gone. University people are such bloody snobs too. You see them round here, strutting round as if they own the place. You try to talk to them and they don’t want to know you. It doesn’t bother me because I don’t want to know them.

GWYN: That’s a bit of a general comment to make. How many university people do you know? When do you mix with them? You don’t go to the union or any of the places the students go.

GWEN: Watch it, boy; don’t mock me.

GWYN: Come on, Mum, I’m not. I’m just asking how many university people you know to give you that idea that they’re snobs and don’t talk to you..

GWEN: Try walking round the city centre in the evening; you’ll hear plenty of snobbery then. I’m doing this course, I’m doing that course. They think they are high and mighty because they got a university scarf or something like that. They got enough free time too to hang round the bars and the pubs too. Bloody bone idle most of them are.

GWYN: That’s nonsense. Most of the people I know aren’t like that every night; maybe the weekend they go out. If they were like you said, most of the academics in this country would be alcoholics by now. Most of the ones I know, and others I have heard about, spend their time reading, writing, in the lab, the library; that’s exciting, and that’s what I want to be doing this October.

GWEN: You want to talk to your brother; he can give you some good advice.

GWYN: Is that all you can think about? Asking Ieuan’s advice on education is like asking the butcher about baking, or vice versa. He couldn’t care less about school, you know that.

GWEN: No one likes school, that's a fact. But he’s a sensible lad with a good brain between his ears; he’s not that interested in study, that’s all. He will do well for himself, make no mistake. he can get a good trade, and be earning a bigger wage than you in some white coat in a lab somewhere, getting poisoned or irradiated or whatever happens in those places; bloody dangerous line of work. Going back to your point though about school; you ask most of the youngsters round here, they’d drop out in a jiffy if they could. School’s a waste of time for most of them; I read about the teaching these days; there's no discipline, and half the things you learn are useless. What’s the point of French or… or… or…

GWYN: Or what? You can argue anything can be a waste of time if you look at things that way. You can get by in life with about two years of secondary education; you can manage, but you’re limited in what you can do. I’m ambitious, I want to –

GWEN: You’re a big head and a daydreamer, boy. You get back down to earth, see the sense in getting a job this July or August, and begin to earn money. That’s the most important thing for you, get that straight. In the old days, you’d be going down the mine with your father and the rest.

GWYN: One, the old days are gone; that’s why they’re called the old days, something that seems to be lost of many people. Two, I can’t imagine Dad going down a coal mine. The work would be too dirty and hard for him. He’s not exactly nature’s gift to exercise, is he?

GWEN: You be careful what you utter to me about your father, boy. He’s a good man, solid, reliable, and moral.

GWYN: Yeah, I have noticed his reliability in the morning after a few jugs down the pub. I heard they buy him a beer for lunch if he clocks in on time.

GWEN: That’s enough. You’re a horrible boy sometimes to talk like that. Your father’s the gentlest, most caring man I have met.

GWYN: How many have you met then?

GWEN: Don’t be funny with me.

GWYN: Talk of being gentle; he’s about as gentle as a bull in the proverbial china shop. That’s when he’s had a few beers, of course; any other time he’s too timid to take on anyone the same size, or bigger.

GWEN: What are you trying to imply about your father?

GWYN: I’m not trying to imply about anything; I’m implying that he’s good at being angry with people smaller and weaker than he is. That, he can handle. Put him up against someone bigger, and he doesn’t want to know.

GWEN: Are you suggesting he’s a coward? He’s a bigger man than you’ll ever be. He’s done something with his life too. He’s the assistant manager in the work area, and that don’t come easy, get that. You’ve got to be good at your job to get that.

GWYN: That I would agree with you; he’s done quite well in that way. Mind you, it’s taken him thirty years to get there, but better late than…

GWEN: Watch it, you little parrot. I’ll tell him when he gets in and he can take it from there.

GWYN: It’s hopeless trying to talk to you lot. You just don’t understand my position. I just don’t want to be in a fu…factory here in the valleys for the next forty years, that’s it.

GWEN: You’re ignorant, and ignorant because of fancy educational ideas getting you above your place, and your place is here, not where some ponce teacher thinks you can go because getting to university makes him look a good teacher, so he can get extra money.

GWYN: That’s not true; you can’t see it my way, or don’t want too.

GWEN: I see it the way I always seen it, boy, and for me and all the others around here, money is number one; you need a job to get money. You go to university and you’ll end up with, what is it, fifteen thousand pounds in debt? You need your brain looked at. No one in their right mind would do that.

GWYN: In that case, I’m not in my right mind, am I?

GWEN: You take my advice, well, our advice. Forget about studying, get a job and get some money under your belt. I better go and lay the table. You want another cup of tea, boy?

GWYN: No thanks, Mum.

GWEN: Right…oh, that must be Ieuan. Is that you, my love?

Ieuan enters, carrying school bag

IEUAN: No, it’s me, Mum! Hiya, how are you?

Ieuan kisses Gwen

GWEN: That’s what I mean; the three of you are ‘my love’ to me. How was your day in school? Your brother here has his timetable, he’s happy about that.

IEUAN: Yeah, well he would be. That’s what these so called brain boxes think about – study, exams, going to school, the library. What a bore. You want to get a real life, Gwyn, get yourself a decent girl, not that skinny creature you talk to in –

GWYN: You watch it, boyo. I’ll bloody talk to whom I want to. I like Kerin, she likes me, we work well together, we get good marks, what’s wrong with that?

IEUAN: What’s right with it? You look like a pair of weirdoes, going round together, holding a book, making notes; why don’t you behave like a normal bloke? Get out and enjoy life.

GWYN: I am enjoying life; I’ll mix with who I want to, not who you think is a suitable partner, right?

IEUAN: Oh, touchy, aren’t we?

GWYN: No, we don’t like interfering little brothers with nothing better to do than complain about and criticise others, that’s what we are. You mix with your type of people, I’ll mix with mine. She’s a good girl, very nice, and I like her, that’s it. We have the same kind of interests too. Maybe we’ll try for the same university too.

GWEN: Gwyn, Ieuan’s just joking, you’re too sensitive, don’t take things serious like. Who’s the girl, not that it’s my business…it is my business; she might be having my grandchildren who knows what might happen.

GWYN: Come on; we’re pals in school, we enjoy each other’s company, and we work together in science practicals. What wrong with that? I’m not interested in a family yet. I’m only nineteen, for goodness sake.

IEUAN: Have you gone to bed with her yet?

GWEN: Ieuan! Don’t be rude. That is none of your concern, boy. Well, have you?

GWYN: Brother, piss off, mind your own business; mother, that’s my business, but the answer’s ‘no’, okay.

IEUAN: I knew it. You haven’t got the guts to ask her.

GWEN: That’s enough, Ieuan. I think your brother, whatever his many useless attributes, if that’s the right word, is quite able to go to bed with some young woman. I mean, you’re not gay, are you, Gwyn? I hope you’re not. I don’t know what they’d think in the pub and the fish and chip shop if you were gay. It would be embarrassing for your Dad and me; we’d be laughed at every time we went out. You’re not gay, are you?

GWYN: No, mother, I’m not. If I were, I wouldn’t hang out with Kerin, would I?

GWEN: Right, I’m off to lay the table. Ieuan, you can go with your brother and pick up the fish and chips later, when your Dad’s back home.

Gwen exit

IEUAN: What kind of name is Kerin, anyway? It sounds like a disease.

GWYN: Yeah, well listen good, little mutton brain brother; Ieuan in English sounds like urine, doesn’t it?

IEUAN: Who told you that?

GWYN: No one, just try listening to it.

IEUAN: I’m going to tell Mum about you. Mum, he just insulted me; he said my name is …yeah, what are you looking at?

GWYN: Nothing, I was just thinking that if word gets around that people begin to think your name sounds like…then you are going to be pretty embarrassed, n’est-ce pas?

IEUAN: What’s ‘nessy pah’ mean?

GWYN: It means you’re a fool, that’s what. It’s Spanish for idiot, Swahili for moron, get it?

IEUAN: Bugger you; you think you’re such an ear wig.

GWYN: You want to wash your mouth, little boy. You should pay attention to your schoolwork, not what other people are doing in their free time. You might get into trouble.

IEUAN: Oh yeah, with who?

GWYN: With whom.

IEUAN: Yeah, I’d like to see it. You couldn’t take on one of the form three, wimpy.

GWYN: Wimpy, oh, what imagination. I don’t want to ‘take on’ anyone. I want to study, to get good marks, and clear off out of this place to university where I can continue my education, enjoy myself and get a job that pays a decent salary, but is a job I enjoy; I like using my brain. You don’t have one to use. That’s the difference between you and me. Get it in there, in the mess or mass between your ears, they’re the things there and there, good boy, he’s got manual dexterity too, register it on the Internet, click ‘don’t erase’, and then I don’t have to repeat myself again ad infinitum. What fun you are to be with, Ieuan.

IEUAN: Are you making fun of me? I’ll take you on.

GWYN: One, of course not, Ieuan. Who would want to waste a nice few minutes trying to make fun of you, and two, you don’t have the brains to take me on.

IEUAN: You annoy me, and I’ll get some of my mates; they play rugby. They can take you, or anyone else, apart. Some of them were going to be called up for an international trial; these boys are tough, you better get it. They’re tough, not like some little prick like you, a science boy with a scraggy girl thinking about going to university. They can rip you apart. I seen what they did to the form two’s a couple of weeks ago.

GYWN: They take on form two, and they are form four and five; bloody heroes, picking on little kids. Why don’t they try someone their own size? Going for a Wales trial? Get lost, you little jerk; they couldn’t find their way to the Arms Park, let alone play the game. The only international trial they might come up against would be in a law court. You and your mates, bloody pathos in living colour, full stereo, and as yet able to move without the aid of compute programmed input. Way hey, what a fucking bunch of grade one, zero intellect, useless pillocks you hang around with..

IEUAN: You watch your bloody mouth, I’m warning you. You’ll get your comfort…your com…your comimgupp…

GWYN: Comeuppance.

IEUAN: Right, you’ll get it one day, soon, in the near future, near now, not far away, like near now, know what I mean, right?

GWYN: Grow up, you little prick. Most of your mates can’t be bothered to get out and do any exercise; when they do, they kick a rugby ball and throw it to each other. That is not playing rugby. That is playing around with a ball. Ask anyone in kindergarten; they do it all the time, and at least they can catch the bloody thing most of the time. Your crowd couldn’t differentiate between the two teams playing. Oh, the white team is, um, er, what’s its name, oh, yeah, England, and the other one, um, er, isn’t, oh, that’s right, they’re our team, what’s the name of this country, I forget, what’s the first letter, can you give me a clue…Bloody cretins. Tell them to use their brain, they think you’re talking about the beer.

IEUAN: You…you…you…I’m going upstairs, and I’ll have something to tell when I come back. You wait.

GWYN: Check the dictionary.

IEUAN: What for, why do I need a dictionary?

GWYN: You might find ten words in it you can use. Try the monosyllables first; they’re not so tough to learn, okay? Bye.

IEUAN: Ha, funny boy.

Ieuan exit, doorbell buzzing

GWYN: Oh, Gwyn, you can be a heartless bastard, you can. Poor old Ieuan, I’m not angry with you; I feel sorry for you, pal. You get led astray by the others; you won’t listen to good advice. You’re going nowhere, boy, I see it coming. You’ll end up spending the rest of your life here doing nothing, wandering around, half unemployed, unable to hold down a decent job… Oh, hi, Dad, how are you?

Geraint enters, with Gwen

GERAINT: Hi, how was your day, okay?

GWYN: Fine, I got my timetable. We have the science practicals in the first week.

GERAINT: The sooner the exams are out of the way the better; then you can begin to look for a job, get some money. You can’t expect your mother and me to keep paying for everything. We’re on a limited budget here; you know the mortgage takes up a huge chunk of our wage. There’s not a lot to go round, you got to know that.

GWYN: I do; I hear it everyday. But you have enough to go to the pub every night of the week, then Sunday lunchtime too.

GERAINT: Watch it, boy, don’t give me any lip, okay?

GWEN: I don’t think he’s trying to rude, Geraint; I think he knows the situation, the money and all that.

GERAINT: Just as well, otherwise you’ll be getting the rough end of my fist, you got that?

GWYN: Thanks, Dad; I’m so proud to have father like you. You get this straight too; you lay one finger on me, and I’m down to the police making a report. You know the law; you lay a finger on me, and you’re off to the Bridgend hotel for three years, and bang goes your mortgage, and bang goes this house. Don’t forget that.

GERAINT: You cocky little bugger. Where did you find that out? Who told you?

GWYN: It’s called education; that’s what I learn, that’s what happens when people know their rights. Fifty years ago you could have beaten the living daylights out of me, and I couldn’t have done a thing, because people in those days didn’t know the law, and even if they did, the law didn’t help them that much. Things are different now, very different.

GERAINT: If I could thump you one, I would, right now.

GWEN: Cool down, love; cool down, both of you.

GWYN: Well you would; it’s the kind of man you are. Get in an argument, lash out. I would have thought you’d have learned your lesson a few years ago; the little bloke in the pub, the one you thought was a pushover, someone you could bully, but it turned out he was ex Army, combat veteran or something, made a mess of your eye, didn’t he? You forgot about that?

GERAINT: You shut up. This is my house, and you’ll do what I tell you to do, get that?
Ieuan enters

IEUAN: What’s going on? What’s up with the shouting?

GWEN: Nothing.

IEUAN: It must be something because Dad’s right worked up –

GERAINT: Your mother said nothing, so there’s nothing, get it?

IEUAN: There’s no need to be –

Geraint grabs Ieuan by the collar

GERAINT: I said nothing, get it? Nothing.

GWEN: Put him down, love and come and have a cup of tea. Your father’s had a hard day, boys, he’s a bit stressed, I think.

GERAINT: I’m not bloody stressed, get it? I’m just pissed off with bloody la-di-dah boyo here, who thinks he can push me around, that’s the problem. You don’t like it here, you bugger off and find your own place, okay. It’s my place; you follow what I want to do, when I want to do things, right? I SAID IS THAT RIGHT, ANSWER ME, YOU LITTLE BUGGER.

GWYN: No problem, I’ll give my notice now. I’ll move out tomorrow.

GWEN: Your father doesn’t mean that, Gwyn.

GERAINT: You shut up, you bloody interfering woman. I make the rules here, right.

GWEN: I’ll make a nice pot of tea.

GERAINT: I don’t want any bloody tea; bring my beer, now

GWEN: Um, alright, love, you sit down and I’ll get your drink.
Gwen exit

GERAINT: What are you looking at, you little moron?

IEUAN: Nothing.

GERAINT: Get out and bring the fish and chips.

IEUAN: They don’t open for another fifteen –

GERAINT: I couldn’t care less when they open, I didn’t ask you when they open, I told you to get out and get the dinner, that’s what you do, get it?

IEUAN: Yeah, okay. Gwyn, are you coming?

GWYN: Right, I could do with some fresh air. It stinks around here.

GERAINT: Get out, you little horror. Make sure you put a decent splash of vinegar on my chips, make that a double chips for me, I’m hungry, bloody hard day in the factory. You don’t know what work is like, you two. Go on, get out and get my bloody fish and chips, and don’t be all day getting them. You hear?

IEUAN: Yeah, I hear.

GWYN: We’re going. Come, Ieuan.

Gwyn and Ieuan exeunt
.
GERAINT: Bloody people. I don’t know why people want to upset me. I get it at work, I get it at home, I get it at the rugby, I get it in the pub. Bugger the lot of them. I hate this bloody place. I hate the bloody people, well, not everyone, but about fifty percent. Horrible little –
Gwen enters

GWEN: Here you are, love. There, a nice, cold lager from the fridge; you drink that, you’ll feel a bit better, my love, okay?

GERAINT: I asked you to get a beer; that’s lager, isn’t it? Now go and get me a beer, I don’t want lager; if I wanted lager, I would have bloody asked for it, wouldn’t I? You think I’m an idiot, that I don’t know the difference? Why is it when I ask for something, I get the bloody opposite, or something different; why I it a problem to follow simple instructions? I don’t get it. Oh, leave it, it’s too much trouble, Give it here.

GWEN: There you are. You’ll feel better with one of those in you, love. You’ll see.

GERAINT: I’ll feel better when I got a dozen of these in me. That’s better, yeah. Bring me another.

GWEN: You want the same or shall I get a beer –

GERAINT: Just get something, it doesn’t matter, get the same, no, wait, that’ll do for now.

GWEN: Right you are. How was your day, love?

GERAINT: Horrible, and then to come home to that big head and his talk of education makes me sick.

GWEN: You were proud of him in the early years, weren’t you?

GERAINT: Aye, that was before he got high and mighty, and began to look down on us. One of the managers today had a go at my group, told us our work wasn’t up to scratch like, said we’d have to restack the whole row again.

GWEN: What happened?

GERAINT: I dunno; something to do with the numbering on the boxes, the low numbers got to be at one end, the high numbers the other so they can keep track of stock, something like that. It’s bloody complicated; anyway he had a mouthful from us, I can tell you.

GWEN: What? You were shouting at the management, I hope not.

GERAINT: No, it was behind his back, after he’d gone; one of these bloody foreigners that are over here now, a Pole or Bulgarian I think. Why they want to employ people like that when there are loads of Welsh without work. It makes me sick. This bloody country’s going to the dogs, no, it’s gone to the dogs; they let anyone who wants to come in, come in. Half the native population here are out of work, and they employ foreigners, because they’re cheaper. They’ll pay one day, mark my words, they’ll pay.

GWEN: Who’ll pay? Are you talking about the foreigners or the people who let them in?

GERAINT: The people who let them in, of course. You can’t, in all honesty, blame the foreigners, they’re looking for work, the same as we are; it’s the government I blame. They’re loaded, they are; big salary, big expense account, free transport, huge pension, inflation linked, what ever that means; they make me puke.

GWEN: It means their pensions increase with the cost of living; prices go up, pensions go up…for them, of course. They do okay, don’t they? You read about the Speaker in the paper? I don’t know what the Speaker is, or what he does, but he’s important, and he wears real old clothing, like from a couple of hundred years ago.

GERAINT: Yeah, I read that, and I saw the picture; what a bloody joke, He is using taxpayers money…well, they all are, aren’t they? They use the taxpayers money so they can get free transport and stuff like that, that’s what they do, don’t they?

GWEN: You’re right there, Geraint. They’re horrible, most of them; there may be a couple that work hard, but I think most of them are in it for what they can get.

GERAINT: What a bloody shambles, this place. Hey love, get that beer. You want one too?

GWEN: Yeah, I think so; see, you’re a bit cooler now, aren’t you?

GERAINT: I always am when you’re around, you know that. You’re good for me, love, and good to me, too.

GWEN: Yes, I know, and I feel the same about you too, sweetheart. I’ll go and get another beer for you, and try to keep your temper in check with the boys; they’re a nice pair, be gentle with them. Well, Gwyn’s going off the rails a bit with the talk of university, but –

GERAINT: You don’t mention that, love. That gets me going again.

GWEN: Right, I’ll get another one for you.

Gwen exit

GERAINT: Go gentle on them, some bloody chance. They look down on me, and maybe on you too; we’re not high class enough for the big one with his bloody books. Where did going to university and borrowing books get teachers? They’re not that well paid. Most of them want to leave teaching; I mean, it must be a bloody daft job to go into if half of them want to leave it; you think a new person thinking about teaching would look around and think that, well, if so many are getting out of the profession…ha, a right word to use for that shower, too…if they thought about why so many are getting out, if they had any gumption, they’d give the work a miss, get something better with bigger money; that’s what I would be thinking. I don’t know anyone with a degree with any real money. What about doctors or dentists? I suppose they’re okay, but they’re quite useful in the community like, they do something, like take care of you and pull your teeth out and give you an injection now and then. What use are politicians? If you closed the Parliament down, most people wouldn’t notice a thing. You might find that the place worked better. You could make the Houses of Parliament a tourist attraction; then the building would do something useful, rather than being a bloody talking shop for the rich.

Gwen enter

GWEN: Here you are.

GERAINT: Thanks, love, cheers. Ah, that’s better.

GWEN: What were you moaning about just then? I didn’t get all of it. What are you closing, or what is closing?

GERAINT: I was just remarking that if you got rid of politicians, most people wouldn’t notice and the place might run better.

GWEN: You’re right; useless bunch of wasters, wasting taxpayers’ money, most of the time.

GERAINT: That’s my point. I think it would be better to make it a tourist attraction. Get some tourist money in the country. What are you thinking about?

GWEN: I’m thinking that I care about you.

GERAINT: I know you do, you’re a wonder, you are. I’m happy you’re with me, and not with some other bloke.

GWEN: Me, too.

GERAINT: How was your day then? You got a day off work, isn’t it? You told me something last night, but I forgot about it.

GWEN: That’s right. A nice break from being in the shop from nine thirty to four thirty, trying to be polite to the customers, trying to pretend that I’m interested if they want a pasty or a chicken pie or a couple of slices of cheese, whatever. The way they talk you’d think that’s their main interest in life, what they had for their dinner. They ask you if the stuff is local, is it genuine meat, are they made at home etc. Who cares? Well, I suppose they do, because they ask these bloody fool questions; maybe that’s the main thing in their life, their food and where it comes from. Bloody peculiar people they are; they are like modern hippies, that’s how I think of them. They got their little bags, baskets, looked like they were made in India or on a Eskimo national park or somewhere, they got trendy clothes in a way, but I wouldn’t want to wear them. They look a bit out of the ordinary. You recall when we went to Hay on Wye those years ago, just for the afternoon, one summer?

GERAINT: No, where’s Hay on Wye?

GWEN: The book town, full of bookshops and cafés, and odd ball people.

GERAINT: Oh, that place, yeah, bookshops isn’t it? Near Brecon, that’s where it is, near there; bloody miles from anywhere.

GWEN: Right, the people who come in the shop, well, a few of them, quite a few of them, maybe half of them, are like the people we saw in Hay on Wye. They’re nice enough, but not like the people you and I mix with; I think they go to the theatre and things like that. I can’t picture them sitting in a pub for the night; they’d have nothing to talk about, at least, nothing interesting.

GERAINT: You may be right, but what’s boring to us might be interesting to them and vice versa. You can’t criticise them for what they like, can you, love? They’ve got a right to do what they what to do, the same as us; what I object to, and most of the people I know object to, is subsidising their expensive hobbies, like opera and ballet. Now, I like watching dance on the box, ballet’s a bit too formal for me, but if they like it, that’s okay with me, but don’t expect me to pay for it; they want it, they pay.

GWEN: That’s okay with me too. I didn’t mean to sound too harsh on them, as I said, they’re nice enough and polite, it’s just they talk funny, you know what I mean? But I agree, why should they, the government, whatever, use our tax money to support minority interests like opera and stuff like that. They don’t support pubs or sports centres, do they?

GERAINT: You’re right there. The upper echelons, if I can put it that way, get what they want; we get nothing, bugger them. You know there are special licensing laws for clubs, different to a pub? That’s not playing right.

GWEN: One rule for the rich, one for the poor. When was the last time you read about a footballer or pop singer getting taken to court, and when they are, they’re let off. They can pay for a good lawyer, you see; we can’t. If you or I were up in court, we’d be put away. That’s what happens to the poor, the ordinary people. I hate this place, this country.

GERAINT: The country’s okay, I like it here, it’s the rules and regulations, the government, the interfering in our life that I object to.

GWEN: That’s what I meant; I don’t hate this place itself, it the situation we’re in, that’s what I object to. The place is pretty; you look over there towards the west in the evening, and see the setting sun on the hills, and the houses glinting, or in the winter when there’s a layer of snow or frost, it’s picture postcard imagery. I like the place, yes, I like the place. It’s our home, isn’t it?

GERAINT: Yeah, you’re right there, girl, you’re right there. It is a pretty part of Britain, or the UK or whatever the name of the country is now.

GWEN: I saw a programme on the box this morning after I got up, about an orchestra. The conductor stopped conducting or whatever they do, and walked away.

GERAINT: What for? I thought that’s what they get paid for.

GWEN: No, it was an experiment. He walked off, but the orchestra continued playing, they were good, didn’t need the conductor, you see, well, not for a short time.

GERAINT: Yet another useless job, another waste of money. I don’t see why we, the taxpayer, should subsidise the pleasure of the rich. If they want to go and see a concert with classical stuff in it, fair enough, but don’t use my tax money to pay for it.

GWEN: They’re expensive to run, these orchestras. You think about it; there are a hundred odd players –

GERAINT: As many as that?

GWEN: Yes, about that, the one down the road, what is it, the NoW it’s called, the National Orchestra, are about a hundred, about that. Well, work it out. If they get just a thousand a month, they need one hundred thousand a month just to pay the wage bill; that’s excluding the other expenses they got. It takes a lot of money to keep one of these outfits going; taxpayers’ money, of course. We seem to get nothing for it; the street lights don’t work, crime is out of control, the health facilities here are like the third world, that’s what a couple of nurses have told me, the horse’s mouth and so on. But rest happy, the opera will be on during the winter; the OAPs don’t have enough money to heat their place, but who cares, who cares now in this country?

GERAINT: Yeah, I suppose so. I’m sure, is what I mean. That’s another example of how the rich get richer; they don’t have to pay the real price because the ordinary person gets hammered for tax, gets nothing in return, and the rich get what they want. I’m not surprised there’s such a strong republican movement in this country.

GWEN: You think there is, you think many people think like that?

GERAINT: I’m bloody sure of it. You read the newspapers; you think that everyone in the country is pro monarchy, apart from a tiny minority. That’s the story you get, the impression. But you talk to anyone around here, and being honest about it, how many people do you or I know that want it to continue? I don’t think it’s just around here, either. I haven’t met one person that likes the way things are at the moment. Well, okay, maybe one or two, but the overwhelming majority would vote for a republican kind of thing. I bet that’s what’ll happen the next time in Australia.

GWEN: Yeah, I think you’re right. I know people who have relatives there, and they think it’s ridiculous that the head of the country doesn’t live in the country. They’ll get a change, though. I imagine it will happen in time in New Zealand and Canada, too. You know, most countries in Europe don’t have king or queen. I think that’s right, that’s the case now. I know some of them got kicked out years ago.

GERAINT: The French did it a couple of hundred years back. I think it’ll happen here. Enough of intellectual argument at the moment; my brain’s getting tired, and I’m getting peckish; where are the fish and chips? Those two have got lost on the way back. The big one might have cleared off to the library or something. He’s the type that would, just to let the fish and chips get cold and yucky.

GWEN: Come on, they’re not that bad, or that dumb! How would he take fish and chips into the library? They wouldn’t let him in with them.

GERAINT: I know; I just wish they’d think about getting a job, and getting some money, getting a girl and getting a place of their own.

GWEN: Come on, they’re teenagers, Geraint. It’s too soon for that!

GERAINT: Yeah, I know. Not about getting a job, though, they both need that.

GWEN: Why don’t we talk about it some other time, okay?

GERAINT: Right you are. I’m tired, well, a bit. What’s on the box tonight, anything interesting? Oh, there’s the rugby. What have we got this evening, let me have a look? Are you in tonight, or pubbing?

GWEN: I might pop out with the girls from work, Sue and Bridget, and pick up Maria on the way.

GERAINT: Maria? Who… oh, from the beauty centre? Ah, right. She’s pretty.

GWEN: You make that comment about all the girls.

GERAINT: Do I? It must be force of habit. Where are you going, the ‘White Hart’ or ‘The Bridgend’?

GWEN: There’s some live group on at the ‘White Hart’, so we’ll try that. A group from Hereford, or Worcester, I think, somewhere over there.

GERAINT: Okay.

GWEN: How about you, where are you going tonight?

GERAINT: I don’t know at the moment. I might watch the rugby on the box; yes, here it is, Gloucester and Wasps, that’ll be a good game, they’ll get a full house for that.

GWEN: Who’ll win?

GERAINT: I imagine Gloucester will, they’ve got home advantage, and that counts a lot for them, but it’s going to be a close game. Yeah, I think I’ll do that. How many beers in the fridge?

GWEN: Three or four; why don’t you pop out and get a couple of packs?

GERAINT: That’s a good idea; I’ll pick up some after dinner.

GWEN: Right, I’ll go and lay the table… No, you idiot, you done that already. I forgot. You want another beer?

GERAINT: No, not for now; make a pot of tea, will you?

GWEN: Right you are; one pot of tea coming up.

GERAINT: No, leave it, I’ll have another beer. No point sobering up this time of the evening.

GWEN: Right you are; I’ll have one myself; time to be a bit warm.

GERAINT: You’re a lovely girl, Gwen; I do love you very much, you know that.

GWEN: Yeah.

Gwen kisses Geraint, hold hands for a moment. Gwen exit, Geraint reads paper, finishing the beer

GWEN: out Here are the boys with the fish and chips. Where do you want to eat, in here or in there?

GERAINT: I’ll have mine here.

Puts paper away, Gwyn and Ieuan enter with a plate each, Ieuan with a can of beer, Gwyn with
two.

GWYN: They look nice. I’m hungry. Here’s your beer, Dad. This one’s for me.

GERAINT: Ta, boy.

IEUAN: Me too. I mean I’m hungry, and this beer’s for me.

GWYN: You use too much salt; it's not good for you. You get high blood pressure with too much salt.

IEUAN: That’s rubbish, who told you that?

GWYN: I read about it in Biology. It’s called Nutrition; means what we eat, to you.

GERAINT: You can’t believe everything you read in a book. The way to learn is through life, practical things, useful things. Books by themselves are useless, no good to anyone.

IEUAN: That’s right, Dad’s right.

GWYN: You are incredibly narrow minded; you need to get out and read things, get away from you own little world of joking, hanging around on the corner, smoking, talking about football.

IEUAN: What do you mean, my ‘own little world’? Don’t be so bloody rude. I have my interests; you have yours. I have no interest in books, you likewise have little interest in what I get up to.

GWYN: That’s not true. I care about you; I can see where you’re going wrong

IEUAN: That’s rubbish; you couldn’t care less what I get up to.

GWYN: Suit yourself.

GERAINT: When did you become an expert on caring about people?

GWYN: I didn’t mention being an expert. He’s my brother; I keep an eye open.

GERAINT: You’re a fine one to talk. You can’t take care of yourself yet.

GWYN: Please yourself.

GERAINT: Yeah, I will; it’s my house and I’ll do as I please in the place, and if I tell you something, you’d better do it.

GWYN: Right.

Gwen enters with two plates.

GWEN: There you are; they look good. Mr Jones does a good job with them.

GERAINT: Ta; yes, he does. He’s got a good little business there, makes decent living too. Ieuan, you could ask him if he needs someone to help out. You’d get a bit of money. If I had the capital, I wouldn’t mind opening a fish and chip place. Gwyn, how about you? You’re through with school in a couple of weeks time; go and ask him if he can give you a job.

GWYN: No thanks; I have other plans for the summer.

GERAINT: Oh, not good enough for you, is it? Mr High and Mighty doesn’t like to mix with them sort of people.

GWYN: I don’t want to work in a fish and chip shop. I’d find the work boring. I want some mental stimulation.

GERAINT: Bloody pathetic you are. You take a job for the money; that’s the number one thing you think about.

GWEN: Your father’s right, Gwyn. You can walk to work there, no transport problem, no expense. Mr Jones would give you lunch, too. It would be a good place to work; he’s a nice man, too.

GERAINT: That’s a good point, love. I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, free fish and chips, that’s not bad. I wouldn’t mind a free lunch everyday.

GWEN: Me, neither; we have to pay for ours. I don’t get much off when I buy meat there, either. They knock off ten percent, I think. Generosity, that’s them.

GERAINT: Yeah, bugger the workers; we make money for them, they turn around and give us two fingers.

IEUAN: That’s right. These companies screw the workers; that’s what Mr Preece told us in Citizenship class the other week. He said that the capitalists take everything, and the workers get nothing.

GWEN: Well, he’s right there.

GERAINT: Good man, that’s my type of teacher; tells the students the truth.

GWYN: He’s an idiot. It’s people like him in a school that push people away.

IEUAN: No, he’s not. He’s brilliant. Our class like him, so he must be okay.

GWYN: If your class like him, that means there’s something wrong.

GERAINT: Cocky little bugger, aren’t you? Who are you to tell us who’s a good teacher and who isn’t?

GWYN: Ieuan just told you he’s brilliant. I disagree; I don’t like the man. He’s a hypocrite.

IEUAN: What’s hypocrite mean?

GWYN: A person that does the opposite of what they tell people they do, like politicians round here.

GWEN: How do you know that?

GWYN: Know what, the politicians or that Mr Preece is a hypocrite?

GWEN: Yeah, that one, the second one.

GWYN: He goes on about workers’ rights, exploitation, and hardship etc, talking as if he knows some thing about being a worker, but he comes from a rich family. he went to a public school, Oxford or Cambridge, has a nice place in the suburbs, bought a better car than anyone round here has, goes to Europe on holiday twice a year; you want to give over. He knows nothing, not the first thing about hardship.

GWEN: That’s not important. He can have an opinion, like anyone else.

GERAINT: You’re right there, love.

IEUAN: Yeah, she’s right there.

GERAINT: ‘She’ is your mother, boy.

IEUAN: Yeah, sorry.

GWYN: How many people you know have an apartment bought for them when they go off to college? Yes, I thought so, zero. Well, Mr Preece got one from his father, who works in the Stock Exchange. Not what one would call a working class family, is it?

IEUAN: He’s a good bloke, though. He’s the most popular teacher in the school, by a long way.

GWEN: Why’s that?

IEUAN: He doesn’t give homework; he jokes in class, and we get good marks.

GWYN: You’re an idiot.

GERAINT: You don’t talk to your brother like that, boy. I won’t have it in my house, is that clear?

IEUAN: Yeah, I have my own opinion.

GWEN: He put forward a good argument.

GWYN: I don’t think so.

GERAINT: You wouldn’t. You’re too cocky by half, boy.

GWYN: I’m entitled to my opinion, the same as the rest of you.

GWEN: That’s true.

GERAINT: What makes you think you’re opinion is better than anyone else?

GWYN: I don’t.

IEUAN: Yes, you do; you got that reputation in the school. You’re a bookworm, like that girl you hang out with.

GWYN: That girl doesn’t belong to me. We get on well together. We might try for the same university too.

GERAINT: That’s all we need, talk of university. Why don’t you get it into your brain that getting a job and getting money is better? Why waste three years of your life pissing around in a university?

GWEN: Your father’s got a point there, Gwyn. You’ll end up in debt, too. I read somewhere that new graduate are fifteen thousand pounds behind when they finish. That’s what I read that somewhere, Geraint, I read it somewhere, but I forget where, Fifteen thousand pounds in debt, think of it, I read about it in the newspaper I did, I read about it, fifteen thousand pounds, oh, it makes me ill just to think of it. I feel sick; I need a gin and tonic.

GERAINT: Your mother’s right. I know a couple of people where I work who went to university and said they regretted it. They don’t earn any higher wage than the rest of us. It’s a complete waste of time. One bloke studied French or something, and said his ‘uneducated’ pals…I think he was joking like, like painters, decorators, electricians etc were getting better money than him. You want to take good advice.

IEUAN: I might try to become an electrician. You don’t get dirty and they get good money. Get the wiring in place, screw in a few sockets, things like that. It’s a piece of cake; I seen them at work. You got a few tools, a roll of wiring, and some overalls; then you get to work.

GWEN: Go for it boy. You’d make a fine electrician; I can see it on your little van, your name and phone number. You’d be famous round these parts then; one genuine home-grown electrician. You’d have to do this place free of charge though, coz I’m your Mum, and you got to give me a special rate. Then when you’re working, I’ll cook you lunch.

IEUAN: That’s brilliant. I think I’ll try that. Yeah, Ieuan the Electrical Man, that’s me.

GERAINT: That’s brilliant, a good idea. You could set up your own business, get a small van, and a bag to carry your tools etc. That’s what you could do, a good idea, boy.

GWYN: You must be joking; to become an electrician, you need a licence. You get that by passing an exam. There are loads of things you have to study and unlike schoolwork, you can’t make a mistake. Well, you can make a mistake, and then you’re either injured, and with electricity, you can get a bad injury, or you’re out of business, out of a job.

IEUAN: Why I’m out of a job?

GWYN: Because you make a mistake in someone’s house, they might get electrocuted, and that means you’re in court; you might, if you make a mistake, set fire to the bloody house, too. You also end up in court. An electrician is a responsible and tough job. You seem to think you write ‘electrician’ on a van, pull on your overalls, pick up the nearest bit of wire, away you go, and that’s it. It’s quite a tricky job to do, there’s the danger too. You’d end up electrocuting yourself, Ieuan.

IEUAN: That’s it; put me down again. You do it all the time. You think I can’t do it, I can’t do anything. Well, gum brain, I can if I want to.

GWYN: The person that puts you down is you; you expect people to think you can do something when you do nothing in reality apart from hang around wherever you can find space, and chat and laugh with your mates who are on the same intellectual band as you i.e. a very narrow one.

IEUAN: I don’t get you.

GWYN: If you don’t get that, how on earth are you going to read the plan for electrical work in a property, read the technical manual, work out the Mathematics of the job etc? You need to wake up.

GERAINT: Keep off him; he’s not a fool, like you. You’re no brilliant mind either.

GWYN: You think Ieuan isn’t a brilliant mind then, Dad? You’re suggesting that, aren’t you?

GERAINT: What are you going on about? What do you mean?

GWYN: You just told me I’m not brilliant, too. Too means also, therefore, as you were referring to Ieuan first, and then me, you mean that he’s the same as me, i.e. thick. Therefore, you are implying Ieuan’s not too bright. You get it?

GERAINT: No, I don’t. I think you’re trying to make fun of me, and that, in my house, I don’t like, you get it clear.

GWEN: I think they’re both bright, in their own way. They just have different interests, things they like.

GWYN: That’s the understatement of the year.

GWEN: What do you mean?

GERAINT: I know what he means; you don’t mock your mother, boy. I won’t tolerate that.

GWYN: You don’t tolerate much; oh, beer is an exception. You have a certain tolerance for that.

GERAINT: Watch it, boy.

GWEN: I think he’s joking, love.

GERAINT: No, he’s not.

IEUAN: I’m not thick. None of my mates think I’m thick, either.

GWYN: No, they wouldn’t be aware of its presence.

GWEN: What do you mean?

GWYN: Nothing, Mum. It’s too tiring to explain.

GERAINT: You’re pushing the limits of my patience, boy. Take care.

GWYN: We’re talking about simple intelligence. He bought a stereo, when, a few months ago, plugged it in, and the thing blew up.

GERAINT: I didn’t know that.

GWEN: That’s news to me.

IEUAN: Thanks very much.

GWYN: You mentioned electrical work, not me. He spilt water or tea on it, and thought he try to dry the thing out by getting it warm, using the electricity. That’s the way his brain works, or in this case, didn’t work. Bang went to stereo, bang went fifty quid or whatever it cost you.

IEUAN: Twenty quid; I got it second hand from someone I know. You be careful; I’m not an idiot.

GWYN: Try to prove me wrong then. You think you can walk into a trade just like that. The days are gone when you didn’t need a bit of paper.

IEUAN: What paper?

GWEN: He means a certificate, love.

IEUAN: Oh. I can get one of them.

GERAINT: You can, my boy, if you put your mind to it.

GWYN: How are you going to pass an exam when you don’t study?

GERAINT: You read a couple of books, memorise the facts, toss them out in the exam. Anyone can do it.

GWYN: I didn’t know that. I thought you had to work to get it.

GERAINT: You don’t try to be smarty boy with me, boyo. I’m not in the mood.

GWYN: That’s nothing new.

GWEN: What do you mean by that?

GWYN: He’s not in the mood for most things most of the time.

GERAINT: Rubbish. What are you going on about?

IEUAN: Yeah, you lay off Dad, okay.

GWYN: You don’t like most things. You watch the rugby, read the paper, eat, drink beer, go to the pub where you drink beer again, and sleep when you come home.

GERAINT: That’s my business what I do. I got my interests the same as you, except mine are interesting. I mean, ask yourself, what you do most of the time.

GWYN: I go to school most of the time, that’s because I’m a student. I read books there, because I’m a student. I take examinations there, because I’m a student. I want to go to university, because I enjoy being a student. That’s why I go to school, okay.

GERAINT: You don’t push me, boy. You’re not funny, boyo, not a funny boy.

IEUAN: Yeah, you go to school and read books, and books and books.

GWYN: Well done, Ieuan; ‘books’ three times in one sentence, well done, Ieuan.

GWEN: You don’t make fun of little Ieuan here; come here, love, give Mum a kiss. There we are.

GERAINT: You’ll do nothing with your life with books, boy, take it from me. Making books a major part of your life will make you a lonely, inward looking creature; look at the characters you see in the local library. They look as if they’re museum pieces, stuffed and left there for the next generation to look at and wonder about.

GWEN: He’s right, Gwyn. You need a job and proper money, not getting loaded down with a fifteen thousand necklace by the time you're twenty two. Think about it; it’s good thinking.

GWYN: If I were to take everything from you, I’d have left school at fifteen with no qualifications, and be working in some supermarket, or running a petrol kiosk, or frying chips in some grease bar, pouring out coke into paper cups and wiping down the worktop where people have left their left over bits and drink spillage. You think I want to do that with my life? There’s the world out there; it’s big and there’s plenty to do, see and enjoy. That is what I’m going to do with my life, not stuck here watching fu…rugby and drinking warm beer down the pub every night for the next fifty years, so get used to it. Me, I want something else in life.

GWEN: There’s nothing wrong with frying chips. Don’t be so snooty. Mr Jones began frying chips when he as fourteen years old and he’s now near retirement age. He enjoys his work; he’s got a good business, and people like him and appreciate what he has done for the community here. His shop is well-known by everyone in the lower valleys. There was a photograph of him in the South Wales Echo a few years ago when he won the district ‘Top Fish and Chip Bar of the Year’ award; you’re eating quality fish and chips, boy.

GWYN: I’m not being snobbish; I said it wouldn’t suit me. I like Mr Jones and the family. They’re nice people and he’s got a good business and name as you said just now. It’s just that that type of work, lifestyle isn’t me.

IEUAN: Too low class for big brother, is it?

GWYN: No, it’s nothing to do with that, birdbrain. It’s just not interesting enough for me. I want to get out and enjoy life. I won’t be able to accomplish that if I’m behind the counter cooking fish and chips until I’m eighty. I want to enjoy life.

GWEN: Who doesn’t? We all want to enjoy life. Mr Jones goes to Spain or France once a year and they’ve got a holiday chalet in some caravan park in Yorkshire.

GERAINT: Yeah, he got onto a good thing there, did Rhodri Jones. He went into his father’s business, expanded it and brought back the rewards. I admire him; I wish I could have had a business for you two fellows to take over, but my father left my mother when I was three, and she had a struggle to bring me up; the same as many people, I’m not trying to pretend it’s just me, there are many men like me who had to struggle just to get by, and that’s why I want you two to get a proper job and get earning some money so you can get married and settle down with a wife and children, and be happy.

GWEN: Your father's one hundred percent correct there, Gwyn. He’s talking from his own hard experience. We know what hardship was; we don’t have it marvellous now, but at least we got the house and we’re both working. You must look at it from our point of view, and then you’d see that we’re right. We want both of you to be happy, with your own family, not go through what we had to go through. I’m like your father, from a single parent family. It’s no fun. I can tell you.

IEUAN: You tell him, Mum. You tell him what suffering is, then he might change his way of thinking.

GWYN: Why don’t you do the world a favour and belt up, you idiot. What do you know about suffering? You don’t know the first thing about it; the nearest thing to suffering you experience is when you, or one of the cretins you hang around with, can’t get a cigarette.

IEUAN: You watch it, big brother.

GWYN: I have nothing against people working here in whatever capacity they want to; I’m just making it clear that much of the work that one can find here just doesn’t interest me, nor suit me. I want to study science; I want to work in a lab, testing things, finding new things, experimenting, and when I am doing that, I’ll be enjoying it, too.

GERAINT: You listen to him; he talks about enjoying life, and he’s thinking of going to read books in some bloody library for the next three years. Then you’ve got to listen to some boring teacher in a lecture. You must be nuts; I have listened to some of these so called academics on the box when they talk or give you their ‘expert’ opinion. You expect me to think they know very much? Half of them can’t string a couple of sentences together, and they use words most people don’t know.

GERAINT: I don’t think they know what they’re talking about half the time. My goodness, boy, where do you get such bloody pitiful ideas, you got warped thinking, that’s what you got.

GWYN: Maybe.

IEUAN: Not maybe, it’s certain. You want to think about money.

GWEN: Money’s important. I know that from hard experience. We’re not destitute, but we got to watch the money, isn’t that right, Geraint?

GERAINT: Right on, Gwen my love, that’s why we keep on a bit about it, you see, our own experience, not much to spare and all that. That’s why we emphasise money, not that we’re greedy, but we want a better life for you than we got, that’s why.

GWEN: That’s right; we want you to be happy, and being happy means having money.

IEUAN: I agree, I agree with that.

GWYN: That’s your opinion; you’re entitled to it.

GERAINT: That’s generous of you.

GWYN: No, it’s called being polite, something you don’t know much about.

GERAINT: You be careful, don’t play games with me.

GWYN: Right, that’s just what I mean. I argue with you, and then you begin to threaten. That’s typical of people like you here; you argue against them in a rational manner, and then because they can’t argue back with any conviction, they get aggressive.

GERAINT: That’s bloody rubbish. We’re open minded here.

GWEN: Come on, you two. Why don’t we cool down a bit? It’ll be time for the rugby soon, and I’m going out with a couple of the girls from work, and another one from the beauty centre, Your Dad likes her, don’t you? Oh, he’s shy, blushing a bit, are you?

GWYN: I don’t think most people here are open minded; in fact, I’d argue the opposite is true. You’re very conservative in many things. You think about –

GERAINT: You be careful talking about the Conservatives here, boy. No one likes them. They’re the party of the rich and business.

GWYN: I meant conservative with a small ‘c’. Mr Jones is in business.

GWEN: Not that kind of business, your Dad means big business with lots of money.

GWYN: You just told me that Mr Jones has a lot of money, two houses, Europe every year etc. Now what is it? Is he rich or not?

GERAINT: You’re just trying to be awkward. You know what your mother and I mean. Try to be a bit mature for once.

GWEN: Mr Jones is quite rich, but not very rich, and he supports the Labour Party, like us.

GWYN: You mean like you two.

IEUAN: I support the Labour Party too. They’re the party of the working people around here. That’s what Mr Preece told us in school the other day, last week, I forget now. I think the Labour Party is the party for the people here. Most Welsh MPs come from the Labour Party. I know that for a fact; you can read about it. I got a map once of the country and the Labour bits were –

GWYN: The ‘bit’ is a constituency. Please note the fact that you said ‘the working people’. That excludes you then, doesn’t it?

GERAINT: You keep quiet when your brother’s talking politics. That’s typical of you to butt in.

GWEN: Yes, let him finish, love. I like it when he talks politics; local politics here are important to the people here.

GWYN: That’s why it’s called local politics.

GERAINT: You bloody pest; will you give over and stop being so bloody rude to your mother.

GWYN: I’m not being rude to Mum. I was just pointing out that politics that are important to local people is known as local politics, you have the repetition of the word ‘local’, that’s the clue, you get it?

GERAINT: That’s enough, you little monkey. Now keep your mouth shut, from now. Year hear me? Well…I said did you hear me? You hear me? Bloody fool doesn’t answer now.

GWYN: You just told me to keep my mouth shut, so I did just that. Now you complain I don’t answer you. There’s your logical thought in action. Get into an argument, and you get angry and fight back.

GERAINT: I –

GWEN: It’s okay, love. Gwyn, you try to stop provoking your father, okay? He’s had a hard day in the factory, and need to relax a bit in the evening, and the weekend’s here, and we should be enjoying our time, is that right?

IEUAN: Yeah, it’s time to relax after a hard week at school, I can tell you.

GWEN: You got any homework to do tonight?

IEUAN: No, nothing. That’s why I can relax a bit. If I can be an electrician, I’m going to relax at the weekend, too. I don’t mind doing a few hours in the daytime, but in the evening I want to relax with my mates, or go down the pub or play bingo; that’s the way.

GWEN: You forget the bingo for a bit, my pet. You can loose money there; it’s happened to me on many occasions, but I’m cunning; I win it back.

GWYN: How came you be cunning in bingo?

GWEN: I don’t know to be honest, but I try to play with a certain strategy, if you know what I mean.

GERAINT: Well done, my love. That’s the way to play a game. You, I told you to keep your mouth shut. The one thing you can do to get me in a good mood is, when you finish the examinations, you go down into the town and begin to look for work. That’ll make me a happy man. Think about getting some money in your pocket, boy.

GWYN: You think money’s the be all and the end all; I don’t. I think enjoyment is important, very important. You spend a lot of your life at work, so you must enjoy going, otherwise there’s no point. You’re working for nothing except the money, and that isn’t good, not for me.

IEUAN: That’s rubbish; loads of people hate going to work.

GWYN: Why don’t you listen? That’s just what I said. Open your ears instead of your mouth, and you’d do better.

IEUAN: I’m doing okay.

GWYN: That’s it; okay, you’re happy with okay. I’m not. I want to be good, better than just okay. Okay is for losers, like you.

IEUAN: I’m not a frigging loser.

GWEN: Mind your language, my love.

GERAINT: You can’t blame Ieuan for getting a bit uptight. No one wants to be called a loser. But at the same time, it’s better if you try not to swear in front of your Mum, at least in the house; in the pub it’s not so bad, I think. You hear it again and again there. You, don’t be rude to your brother; you began the argument.

GWYN: Me?

GERAINT: Yes, you.

IEUAN: Yeah, you begin the arguments every time. You don’t think about other people and how they feel, how they think. You’re okay so long as you’re with Skinny trying to blow up the Chemistry lab or writing notes together in one of the empty classrooms, or walking in the playground whispering in each other’s ear; people wonder what you see in her, and what you get up to when you’re in the classroom. You know, just the two of you.

GWEN: It’s harmless fun, dear, don’t worry about that. Right, if everyone’s finished, I’ll take the plates out. Here, give me.

GERAINT: Ta, love. Very nice they were, too. I enjoyed them.

IEUAN: Thanks, Mum. They were nice. You’re a good cook.

GWEN: You bought them from Mr Jones’ fish bar, half an hour ago.

IEUAN: Yeah, I forgot. Yeah, we bought them from Mr Jones’ fish bar.

GWEN: You’re a bright boy, Ieuan.

GWYN: I’ll give you a hand, with them, Mum. Come.

Gwen and Gwyn exit

GERAINT: He’s a difficult so and so to be with. I don’t know what went wrong with him. I hate it when he makes fun of you like that; it must be humiliating. I know about that because people used to try to humiliate me, but you got to fight back. I did that, by being a bit aggressive, and it works for me. You must try to do the same thing. You’re a good boy, and I’m very fond of you. You can go a long way, but your brother…who gave him the idea of going to university? I think it’s a bloody waste of three years. Think how much you could earn in that time; let’s think, you put away a hundred and twenty a month, now a young person should be able to do that if they’re living at home, is that about right?

IEUAN: Yeah, I think so; you get five quid an hour, eight ours a day, that makes…how much? Forty pounds a week, is that right? No, that’s wrong, a day, isn’t it.

GERAINT: That’s right, so in a week that’s ...two hundred, times four gives you eight hundred a month. Now, you got to deduct National Insurance and Tax; the tax isn’t too high because you’re on a modest wage; I reckon you’d take home five fifty. You give your Mum a little, and the rest is yours to do as you please.

IEUAN: Yeah.

GERAINT: Right, so you put one hundred and twenty in the bank, after a year that’s…one thousand and something, is that right?

IEUAN: Yeah, I think so, yeah, one hundred and twenty times twelve… that’s right. You can get overtime, too.

GERAINT: Good boy, now you’re thinking like a man. Right, one thousand times three –

IEUAN: Why?

GERAINT: Three years, isn’t it.

IEUAN: Why?

GERAINT: Three is what they take in university.

IEUAN: Right, I get it.

GERAINT: Therefore, you got…three thousand, at least. It’s better than being fifteen thousand or so in debt. That’s my way of thinking.

IEUAN: I agree with you. I’m sick of studying, too.

GERAINT: I don’t blame you, Ieuan. When I was young, I hated going to school, learning loads of rubbish you don’t use again. It’s pointless, a lot of study. You need some of course, reading writing, numbers etc, they’re essential, but what’s the point of doing French or Chemistry unless you want to teach those. I got better things to do with my time.

IEUAN: Yeah, that’s a good way of looking at it.

Gwen and Gwyn enter, with four small plates of apple pie

GWEN: That’s that, all done, out of the way; that’s the advantage of getting fish and chips and eating them on the paper; no cooking, and a tiny amount of washing up.

GERAINT: You hear that, you two. Take your Mum’s advice. That’s intelligent thinking for you.

IEUAN: That’s clever, Mum.

GWEN: Thank you.

GWYN: Yes, a brilliant way of working something out.

GERAINT: I don’t like the tone of that, Gwyn. You're not mocking your mother, are you?

GWYN: Me, no way.

GERAINT: That’s good, or else you’ll get it from me, I can tell you.

GWYN: I warned you.

GERAINT: I don’t like being warned in my house; get that into your brain, boy.

GWEN: Cool it, Geraint. He doesn’t mean it.

GERAINT: I bet he does; he’d put his old man in the jail if he could; I bet you’d do that.

GWYN: I may, if you pushed me.

GERAINT: There, I told you. You little –

GWEN: Come on, that’s enough.

GWYN: One good thing about going away is I don’t have to put up with you all the time. Plus, of course, I get intelligent talk and argument, too.

GWEN: Oh, Gwyn.

GERAINT: There’s gratitude for you. Work like a slave and get kicked in the teeth for my trouble; thank you, boy.

GWYN: I’m not the one who’s threatening physical assault, or practising mental abuse. You are, not me.

GERAINT: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

IEUAN: Nor me. You insult dad, you expect to get hammered; I’ll do the same if I have children. They would learn quick from me. No nonsense, I can tell you. They misbehave, it’s wallop, right there. Children learn that way, from firm discipline, then they know wrong and right, just like me.

GWYN: Yeah, you’re the perfect example. Teach them by thumping them? That, I can imagine. They’ll grow up loving you, too.

GWEN: I think Ieuan would make a good husband and father; I’m sure he would, wouldn’t you? I could look after the babies too…except at the weekend, or a couple of nights in the week when I go out with the girls, but we could work out an arrangement…but we don’t need to worry yet, do we love, because you’re still a teenager…I mean, we don’t have to worry, do we, you haven’t got a girl into anything, have you?

GWYN: quiet He wouldn’t know how to.

GERAINT: What was that?

GWYN: Nothing. I just was thinking I wish I knew how to…go about…I don’t know; just a jumble of things, nothing in particular.

IEUAN: Oh, yeah. Well, I’d be a good father; you’d be too glued to your books to notice you had any children. No, Mum, I haven’t; I want to wait a couple of years before I settle down. I’m not ready for that just yet.

GWEN: You’re right, Ieuan, but Mum’s here to take care of them, when they come. You’ll be a good family man, my boy.

GWYN: Oh, Mum, come on; you’re the most intelligent here, and you think that a man, or in this case a boy, thinks he’d belt his children even before he begins to have a family. That tells you a lot about his personality; people who talk like that…well, the hospital should sterilise them. Why do you think there are so many problems with young people everywhere? They’re not bad, the vast majority, but they are bored in this environment, created by the government, and further neglected by their parents who have no time for them. That’s why they run wild, get uptight. How many of them come from the kind of home this bloody moron is thinking about beginning? They step out of line, and they get thumped. No wonder they have no emotion in them by the time their in their teens, and after that too, if they live long enough. Then you of all people go and rabbit on about what a good parent he would be. That tells me a lot about you and your intelligence.

GWEN: What do you mean? I didn’t mean anything, I meant that he’s a good boy and would take care of a family, his wife etc.

GERAINT: You be careful, boy; that’s your mother you’re talking to.

GWYN: Oh, I though she was one of the neighbours; oh, you’re my Mum, are you? I’m happy to meet you; my name’s Gwyn. How funny, we have spent a number of years being in the house together, and I wondered who you were. Oh, nice to meet you.

Geraint wallops Gwyn.

GERAINT: You little bugger.

GWEN: It’s alright, Geraint.

GWYN: I warned you about that; don’t you lay a finger on me, you get it? I don’t have to put up with you. Here, take that.

Gwyn thumps Geraint, who half falls in surprise.

You push me, you frigging bully, pig thick bloody useless excuse of a father, that’s you.

Gwyn throws apple pie at Geraint, then whacks him with the beer can.

There, take that too, that’s the rest of your beer, a pity about the couch.

Gwyn kicks Geraint, now on the floor, in the back. Gwyn grabs Ieuan by the throat.

GWYN: You, little brother, be careful, I have had enough of stupid bloody thick-as-two-short-plank comments from you too, right. Next time you mention Kerin in some insulting way, I’ll thump you too, right.

IEUAN: You let me go. Put me down, you’re hurting me, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, you’re hurting me. Mum! Mum, do something, he’s hurting me. Mum.

GWEN: Gwyn, um…

GWYN: Keep yourbloody house, I’m off. I’m sick of the lot of you.

Gwyn exit.

IEUAN: Bugger! Mum, he hurt my throat. He’s a madman. I’ll get him for at next time. I’m not afraid of him. You wait till next time, you it, you bugger, just you wait. Mum, I think my neck’s broken.

GWEN: What…? No, you wouldn’t be able to turn it like that; you might get a bit of bruising. Are you alright, my love? Oh, you can’t get up…oh. Come on, take it slow…come, get into the armchair. Just try to relax a bit. Oh, there’s blood running down your shirt from your eye.

GERAINT: I’ll make him pay for that. He’s out, for good, out of here. No one threw the pie at me, and hit me with the beer can; look at that, I got cut. I need to get to the hospital; I might have to have an operation or something. I need to see a doctor.

GWEN: No, I don’t think it’s that bad, it looks worse than it is. I’ll clean up the mess; you go and wash.

Geraint, Ieuan and Gwen pick up the mess, then Geraint and Gwen exit. Phone rings.

IEUAN: I’ll get it. Yeah, it’s Ieuan…Yeah, I’m okay…Yeah, I’ll come over later on…Where’s Kate?...I dunno…I dunno…Yeah…I dunno…Yeah, okay…okay…I’m not sure if he can…maybe…I can…I dunno…brilliant…okay…Right…I dunno…yeah…maybe, I dunno…guess what happened here…my brother swore at my Dad, then thumped him, and Dad fell over ...what a fucking mess…because my Dad hit him…he thought Gwyn was being rude to my Mum…yeah, Dad’s furious…no, Gwyn’s left the house…no, I’m okay, you don’t think he can take me on, do you? I told him to keep away from me, and he ran off like a wounded deer. Yeah…I’m pretty tough…no one messes with me…I dunno…yeah, could be, he likes her, why, I dunno, she’s a creep, bloody bookworm creep, skinny bitchy, too…yeah…maybe…I dunno…Right, see you then…Bye.

Gwen enters

GWEN: Who was that?

IEUAN: Grunny.

GWEN: Who’s he, or she?

IEUAN: Grunny Price; his mother works in the bakery place.

GWEN: Oh, yeah, I know him; bit of a gut on him, isn’t it?

IEUAN: Yeah. You okay?

GWEN: Yeah, fine. Your Dad’s really pissed off, I can tell you. Oh, look at the couch.

IEUAN: It’ll come off later, I think.

GWEN: Yeah, I hope so. Where’s Gwyn going to go?

IEUAN: I think he might pop in to see a girl he knows from school, maybe. I dunno.

GWEN: It’s ‘I don’t know’, not ‘I dunno’. Try to talk proper, like.

IEUAN: Yeah, okay, Mum.

GWEN: Where’s Gwyn going to go?

IEUAN: To see Kerin, I suppose. He hangs out with her at school.

GWEN: He didn’t mention her to me.

IEUAN: Nor me; he likes to keep things quiet. But I have seen them around in school all the time.
Geraint enters

GERAINT: I’ll get him for this, you wait.

GWEN: Are you okay, love?

GERAINT: Yeah.

IEUAN: I didn’t think he would try to hit you.

GWEN: Yeah, he surprised me, too.

GERAINT: What a coward, attacking me without warning. That’s typical of book people, that’s the kind of thing they learn in a book. Hit someone without warning; what a disgrace, and I’m the father. I don’t know what the world is coming to. He can keep away from this place too; he can find somewhere else to live now.

IEUAN: If he goes to university he’s going to be going anyway –

GERAINT: I know that, you idiot. Keep your mouth shut; and you too, Gwen, I’m not in the mood for any cretin comment.

GWEN: Ieuan thinks he’s going to see Kerin, the –

GERAINT: I couldn’t care less where he’s going, or who he’s going with. Little bugger; I’ll get him back, I’ll get him back. I haven’t heard him swear before, either. He must have flipped up top. That’s no excuse, though. I…I…I…I won’t …forget this…in my… entire life. You…wait.

GWEN: I think the thing to do is to –

GERAINT: The thing to do is keep your mouth shut, right?

GWEN: I was just trying –

GERAINT: Just don’t try.

IEUAN: Dad, I think –

GERAINT: Try not to at the moment, boy. I’m trying to think. I’m thinking of what I can do, that’s what I’m trying to think… what do you think we can do now? What do you think?

GWEN: I think you’d better go out down the pub, see your pals there, and try to forget about what happened just now.

GERAINT: Yeah, that’s a good idea, love, I’ll do that.

IEUAN: What are you doing tonight, Mum?

GWEN: I’m supposed to be going out with a couple of the girls, three of us, Bridget, Maria and Sue, then go down ‘The White Hart’ to listen to a live group. What are going to do?

IEUAN: I’ll go out with my mates; maybe we’ll go to a party. I’m not sure yet.

GWEN: Well, you take care then. Be careful what you drink, don’t accept things from people you don’t know.

IEUAN: I know about spiking drinks, Mum. You don’t worry, okay?

GERAINT: Take care, okay?

IEUAN: Right.

GWEN: When are you going out?

IEUAN: I just need to brush my teeth, get changed, about ten minutes.

GWEN: Right, you pop up first, and then I’ll use the bathroom.

IEUAN: Right.

Ieuan exit Gwen relaxes in armchair, Geraint pacing the room, phone rings

GWEN: What a beginning to the evening. It can’t get any worse. Yes, hi there, this is Gwen…Hi, Bridget…oh, he’s here, a bit emotional at the moment…yeah…he had an argument with Gwyn, things got a bit out of hand…no, nothing that serious…he’s disappeared, maybe gone to see his girl…yeah, maybe…he’s upstairs in the bathroom…he’s going to a party…I don’t know where… no…that’s disappointing…okay…I was looking forward to listening to the group, have a dance etc…yeah, well if they can’t, they can’t…no…yeah…okay, we’ll meet in the Bridgend then, just the two of us…right you are, see you…bye.

Gwen puts down phone

GWEN: Oh, it can get worse. Sue’s got a sore throat; Maria has to work late tonight, so it’s just Bridget and me….

GERAINT: Why don’t you cancel it, and the two of us go out, or better, we have an evening together here?

GWEN: You said you wanted to go out and meet with your mates just now.

GERAINT: It doesn’t matter; I’m happy to be with you.

GWEN: What’s up? You’re looking morose.

GERAINT: What’s ‘morose’ mean?

GWEN: Miserable, unhappy, something like that.

GERAINT: How do you know a word like that?

GWEN: It’s in ‘Woman’s Own’ magazine; I learned it today, this afternoon when I was reading in here.

GERAINT: You’re a bright girl, Gwen, you know that?

GWEN: Yeah, I know. What’s the answer, then?

GERAINT: The answer to what?

GWEN: Why you’re morose.

GERAINT: Nothing, just thinking about Gwyn. I wonder if I’m too unkind to him, shouting at him, making him out to be an idiot. Maybe it’s me that’s the problem. I don’t know.

GWEN: It’s no good worrying about it now; try to put it out of your mind for the evening, then we can sit down with him and try to work something out.

Ieuan enter

IEUAN: I’m off. Have a nice evening. Bye.

GWEN: You too, my love. Take care.

GERAINT: You take care now, okay?

IEUAN: Right, okay, bye.

Ieuan exit

GWEN: I hope he’s sensible. Youngsters get into so much trouble these days, don’t they?

GERAINT: They do, but I think we can trust him to keep out of trouble; he’s a bright enough boy.

GWEN: I hope that’s the case. Phew. I think I worry too much.

GERAINT: Me too. I mean, I think you worry too much; maybe I worry too much.
I wish I hadn’t thumped him though. I think I was in the wrong. Gwyn’s not a bad boy, although I can’t see why he’s interested in higher education.

GWEN: I wouldn’t worry too much about that; he gave as good as he got, maybe he got the better of you.

GERAINT: I hope so, in a way. I won’t do it again, though. Why don’t we go upstairs, have a shower, then go out to the pub?

GWEN: Yes, we can try to have a decent evening out; no music, two of the girls can’t make it, and you and Gwyn had a punch up. I suppose it can’t get much worse…oh, I said that a few minutes ago. Better not repeat it!

GERAINT: Come, let’s go upstairs now.

They get up and begin to exit. The phone rings. Gwen picks up.

GWEN: That’ll be Bridget. Hi, Bridget, Geraint and I are going down our local in half an hour; why don’t you come…Who? Yes…Yes, I am…oh, no…oh no, oh no, oh no…
Where? ...When? ... How is he? …Right… We’re on our way. Oh no…

Gwen puts phone down, then turns to Geraint

GERAINT: What is it, love? What’s wrong? Are you okay?

GWEN: It was the police…it’s Gwyn…he was in an accident; a car hit him as he was crossing the road, near Market Street…

GERAINT: What? Oh, no…oh, no…how is he?

GWEN: He’s in the hospital now. They didn’t…they couldn’t tell me anything else.

GERAINT: Where are they…he…them? Where’s Gwyn?

GWEN: I just told you; they’ve taken him to the hospital…come on, man, get a move on, we need to get there quick.

GERAINT: What are we going to do? I don’t know…I’m not thinking straight, am I?

GWEN: You don’t much of the time. We’re going to the hospital now, right? I’ll get my coat and your jacket. Hurry, let’s go.

GERAINT: Oh, please no, please no…I didn’t mean to get angry with the boy…I hope he’s okay…oh no…

The phone rings again; they both look, lights out, curtain.

The End