Standing at the Sky's Edge (NHB Modern Plays) (eBook)

ACT TWO

At the top of the act, we see our first big jump forward in time. 1960 skips on to 1979, 1989 to 1992, and 2015 to 2017. We should hit this with a bit of a clunk – the optimism we’ve just witnessed suddenly hitting a brick wall.

We’re also now in three election years. Ideally we might see some Labour paraphernalia in 1979 and 1992. In 2017, POPPY sticks a Lib Dem poster on her fridge.

Scene One

CONNIE appears.

CONNIE. Years pass when you’re not looking.

Rot sets in

And other things too

When life catches in the gears of the waste disposal And grinds, and grinds, and grinds

Shine’s worn off – cracks starting to show.

No matter though – we’re made of stronger stuff.

And as it goes, tonight’s election night –

So who knows what might change?

We vote for rocks and hard places

Expectations at an all-time low

Still, things can’t stay the same.

A brief moment in 2017. POPPY with MARCUS. He clocks her poster.

POPPY. I’m just saying Nick Clegg has kind eyes. (Off his look.) Anyway, it’s not the winning, it’s the taking part that counts.

MARCUS. That is such a Lib Dem thing to say. (Beat.) I saw someone’s smashed the sign again.

POPPY. Hmm?

MARCUS. The ‘I love you’.

POPPY. Oh yeah, barely lasted a week this time.

MARCUS. And speaking of broken hearts –

POPPY. Jesus, how long have you been preparing that?

MARCUS. I’m just worried about you. If you don’t shag something soon, you’re going to forget how.

POPPY. Leave me alone or I’ll report you to HR.

MARCUS. Two literal years moping after your psycho ex –

POPPY. I’m not! And Nikki isn’t… Just don’t. Worry about yourself.

MARCUS. Why should I be worried? Max and I are going to get married in Rome.

POPPY. You’ve been on two dates.

MARCUS. But I’m not afraid of commitment. (Beat.) Oh, and Karen’s birthday on Tuesday – very partial to a lemon drizzle, so I’m told.

POPPY. Great – I’m on it.

Moment ends. POPPY and MARCUS exit and CONNIE comes forward again. It’s 1992.

CONNIE. So life goes on

We learn how to survive

These balconies like battlements in the right light

A castle built of streets in the sky

Election number two,

And hope fizzes like sherbet, tingling on your tongue –

This one’s gonna get us back on track.

Love blossoms in the most unlikely places

Love amongst the piss-smelling walkways

The world’s most effective air freshener

Love will save us

Or at least see us through another night.

JOY (now seventeen) is leaving the flat. GRACE sees her off.

GRACE. I want you home before dark. You heard what happened to that boy last week –

JOY. I know.

GRACE. Within an inch of his life. Animals. While I’m out this evening I want the door bolted the whole time.

JOY. Couldn’t I go out too? I mean if it’s safe for you –

GRACE. It isn’t the same.

JOY. But –

GRACE. I am an election observer – I am participating in the democratic process –

JOY. I know, but –

GRACE. No buts. (Offered as a comfort/keeping it light.) When your mama comes you can ask her about it, but right now it’s my rules, okay?

JOY (slightly glumly). Okay.

JOY starts to go. GRACE holds out her keys.

GRACE. Hey little genius – forgetting something? Who are you walking with?

JOY (trying to hide a smile). Just a friend. (Beat.) I’ll be straight home.

JOY kisses GRACE on the cheek and goes. GRACE exits.

We’re moving into 1979.

CONNIE. All grown up. Almost.

And all her hopes are now pinned to this place

Unlikely as it sounds

For now almost content.

Not with election three,

Where endless winter births a bitter spring

Stomachs knot at what the night might bring

But life can still surprise us, even here –

1979. HARRY, ROSE and their eight-year-old son JAMES now visible. It’s morning here too. JAMES is being prepared for school, HARRY about to leave for work.

Ten years of trying, then he arrives

A miracle imperfectly timed

A blessing and a curse.

Another mouth. An anchor. A weight.

Not that you’d have it any other way.

So you crack on, cut back, make do,

Because tomorrow is another day.

CONNIE goes.

Scene Two

Still in 1979. HARRY, ROSE and JAMES.

ROSE. Right – both got your lunches? Both got your scarves?

JAMES. Yes.

HARRY. Yes, Mum.

ROSE. And keep out of trouble, the pair of you.

HARRY. We’ll see.

JAMES (reciting what he’s learnt by rote). Sometimes it falls to the working man to take up arms and fight for those inalienable rights that others take for granted.

ROSE. Is that so?

HARRY. Not bad, that, is it? (To JAMES.) And what else?

JAMES. Sometimes you’ve got to give the bastards a hiding.

HARRY (to ROSE). Well, he didn’t learn that from me.

ROSE. Behave. (To JAMES.) Done your teeth?

JAMES nods, mouth firmly closed.

Show me.

JAMES turns away.

Right – bathroom – do ’em quick, before you’re late.

JAMES goes off, sulking slightly.

Cheeky beggar. Can’t think who he gets it from.

HARRY smirks.

He’ll not be in those boots long. Toes poking through already.

HARRY. Right.

ROSE. I’ll ask our Linda if she’s got owt for him. Or your Evie might.

HARRY. No need.

ROSE. No bother. They race through ’em at this age.

HARRY. I’ll sort it.

ROSE. We both grew up in hand-me-downs –

HARRY (firmly). Not him. Not him, or what’s the point in…? I’ll sort it. Two new pair by end o’t’ week. Just let me know what you need.

ROSE. Okay. (Beat.) And I’ll be knocking on some doors with Barbara this afternoon, but I should still be home before you.

HARRY. Might be late. Big night for the union.

ROSE. You’ll be in The George then?

HARRY (raising his voice, just a little). I’ll be working, I’ll be… Do you know what’s at stake here? You think it’s bad now? We’ve seen nothing – just you wait till –

He spots JAMES has just returned. He stops himself.

Not too late, I promise. (To JAMES.) Be good. Listen to your mother.

HARRY kisses ROSE and goes.

ROSE (to JAMES). All clean?

JAMES bares his teeth at ROSE.

Alright then, let’s get you gone too. Chop-chop.

JAMES. Mum?

ROSE. Yes?

JAMES. Will I be a steel man like Dad when I’m older?

ROSE. Is that what you want?

JAMES. I’d rather be an astronaut.

ROSE. Is that right?

JAMES. I’ll be the first man on Mars. I’ll go further than anyone ever has before.

ROSE. Well, you can’t build a spaceship without steel.

JAMES (wide-eyed). Does Dad build spaceships?

ROSE. Might do.

JAMES. Mum?

ROSE. Yes?

JAMES. Why’s he always angry?

ROSE. He’s not.

JAMES. He is.

ROSE. It isn’t… It’s just work – it’s a difficult time.

JAMES. Because of the spaceships?

ROSE. That’s right. Not building as many spaceships as they used to. But don’t you worry. Spaceships, trucks, the trains you watch coming and going from the window – it’s all steel. People will always need him.

JAMES. Okay.

ROSE. Right. Got everything?

JAMES nods.

Good lad. Let’s go.

JAMES. Race you!

JAMES picks up a satchel and dashes off.

ROSE. No running! James! James!

ROSE follows. Immediately into –

Scene Three

As young JAMES disappears off one way, older JIMMY (now twenty-one) appears in 1992, perhaps dressed similarly enough to help us make the connection. JOY enters from another direction. She has schoolbooks/folders with her. Her calls might overlap with ROSE...