Ragdoll E-Book

Katherine Moar

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 67

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

'You love the attention. You always have.' 1978. Holly, a young heiress, sits in a California prison awaiting trial for her role in a string of armed robberies that have captivated the nation. Her only hope? Her hotshot lawyer, Robert – who might make his name, if he can save hers. 2017. Robert, now one of the most famous attorneys in America, faces a different kind of trial: the court of public opinion. In a last-ditch bid for redemption, he turns to the one former client who could help him plead his case. But will she? Inspired by the real-life trial of Patty Hearst, Katherine Moar's play Ragdoll is a psychedelic swirl of celebrity, violence and scandal. It premiered at Jermyn Street Theatre, London, in 2025, directed by Josh Seymour.

Leseprobe

Katherine Moar

RAGDOLL

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Original Production Details

Dedication

Characters

A Note on Punctuation

Ragdoll

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Ragdoll was first performed at Jermyn Street Theatre, London, on 9 October 2025. The cast was as follows:

HOLLY

Abigail Cruttenden

THE LAWYER

Ben Lamb

THE HEIRESS

Katie Matsell

ROBERT

Nathaniel Parker

TV HOST (PRE-RECORDED)

Ian Drysdale

Director

Josh Seymour

Set Designer

Ceci Calf

Costume Designer

Tom Paris

Lighting Designer

Jamie Platt

Composer and Sound Designer

Lex Kosanke

Movement Director

Anjali Mehra

Casting Director

Becky Paris CDG

Assistant Director

Rebeca Romeo

Dialect Coach

Aundrea Fudge

Voice Coach

Tess Dignan

Production Manager

Lucy Mewis-McKerrow

Stage Manager

Summer Keeling

Production Carpenter

Tom Baum

Furniture Effects

Propworks

Scenic Artist

Pauline McGrath

Costume Maker

Rachel Hodgson

Costume Alterations

Cheryl Sime

Production Technicians

Edward Callow & Ted Walliker

Producer

Jessie Anand

PR

KMPR

For my grandmothers Maya and Barbara

Characters

HOLLY, late fifties

ROBERT, mid-seventies

The HEIRESS (i.e., YOUNG HOLLY), early twenties

The LAWYER (i.e., YOUNG ROBERT), late thirties

TV HOST, voice-over

A Note on Punctuation

A backtick ( ‘ ) indicates some kind of pause, however brief.

This text went to press before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

One

Summer 2017.

An expensive California home, packed for sale.

Dustsheets, cardboard boxes, packing tape, a box cutter.

A striking cream couch.

HOLLY, drenched in sweat, just arrived.

ROBERT, in the middle of the something.

She has taken him by surprise.

HOLLY. I got your letter.

ROBERT. Is it raining?

HOLLY. You could’ve called.

ROBERT. Did you drip on the carpet?

HOLLY. Eight-oh-five-RAG-DOLL.

ROBERT. Will you move?

HOLLY. I know you have my parents’ number. I know you know it.

ROBERT. I didn’t know where to reach you.

HOLLY. You knew where to send the letter.

ROBERT. I preferred to put it in writing.

HOLLY. You were afraid to speak to me on the phone?

He is fussing around her.

Will you stop?

ROBERT. You’re all wet.

HOLLY. It’s sweat.

ROBERT. Why’re you so sweaty?

HOLLY. It’s like a thousand degrees outside.

ROBERT. I’ll get a towel.

HOLLY. And some water.

He leaves.

HOLLY looks around the room.

ROBERT returns, with a towel and a glass of water.

Thank you.

HOLLY sits on the couch.

ROBERT. Please don’t –

HOLLY. What?

ROBERT. Please don’t sit there. That couch, it can’t be cleaned, so if you’re all sweaty…

HOLLY. It can’t be cleaned.

ROBERT. No, it’s expensive –

HOLLY. That’s –

ROBERT. It’s made of some, I don’t know, I just know it can’t be cleaned, so please don’t sit on it.

HOLLY. Alright.

ROBERT. Fifty thousand dollars. That’s how much it costs. There’s only one in the world in this colour, in cream.

HOLLY. It’s nice.

ROBERT. You don’t like it.

HOLLY. I don’t get it. Why would you spend so much money on a couch you can’t clean? Or sit on?

ROBERT. It’s not for sitting.

HOLLY. Is it Italian?

ROBERT. I don’t know.

HOLLY. It looks like marble. Like David. It’s David’s couch.

ROBERT. It’s soft like warm butter.

HOLLY. May I?

ROBERT. Are your hands clean?

She shows him.

Okay, but gently.

HOLLY. That is soft.

‘

I thought you didn’t have any money.

ROBERT. I got money.

HOLLY. I heard you’re broke, or almost there.

ROBERT. Who told you that?

HOLLY. I read it in The New Yorker.

ROBERT. Yeah, well, you can’t trust everything you read in The New Yorker. You should know that better than anyone.

HOLLY. They used that picture of me and you. The famous one, to go with the article, the walking one.

ROBERT. I know the one.

HOLLY. I’ve got those outsize sunglasses and you’re wearing that baby-blue suit.

ROBERT. I’ve still got that suit.

HOLLY. Really?

ROBERT. Doesn’t fit any more, but I don’t know. Can’t seem to get rid of it. I was wearing that suit when the Coppolino verdict came in.

HOLLY. You should get it framed. Like an athlete’s jersey.

ROBERT. Yeah, maybe.

‘

Did he contact you? For the article?

HOLLY. He did.

ROBERT. Did you talk to him?

HOLLY. No.

ROBERT. Thank you.

‘

Stanley Rutherford’s had it in for me since the sixties. He’s hated me longer than anyone. Longer than you, even.

HOLLY. I don’t hate you, Robert.

ROBERT. Well, that’s nice.

‘

HOLLY. He, the article said you’re having legal difficulties.

ROBERT. I’m a lawyer. I’m always having legal difficulties.

HOLLY. That’s cute. And your neighbour said you’re selling up.

ROBERT. Left or right?

HOLLY. Down the hill.

ROBERT. Why were you talking to her?

HOLLY. I knocked on the wrong door.

ROBERT. She’s suing me. Please don’t talk to her.

HOLLY. Why’s she suing you?

ROBERT. Says I’m encroaching on her property.

HOLLY. Are you?

ROBERT. A little bit, yes, but it’s the hopseed. It grows so fast. More water?

HOLLY. Please.

He leaves again.

Did you shoot that moose?

ROBERT (off ). No.

HOLLY. You shouldn’t really have it up if you didn’t shoot it yourself.

ROBERT returns with the filled glass.

Thank you. It’s disingenuous.

‘

A glass of flat water. Do you remember you called me that?

ROBERT. Did I?

HOLLY. Every time I see a glass of water, I think of you. Flat or sparkling. Because it follows that if you think I’m flat, then you must be sparkling.

ROBERT. It was just something to say.

HOLLY. But you meant it?

ROBERT. I guess. At the time.

‘

HOLLY. So, I got your letter.

ROBERT. Yes. And?

HOLLY. ‘Yes. And?’ That’s all I get?

ROBERT. Whaddya mean?

HOLLY. Robert, you asked me for a favour. I’ve come all the way down here. Two hundred miles from San Simeon, three hours in the car. You could try to be a little more polite.

ROBERT. I’m so sorry, Holly. Please, sit. Sweat all over my expensive couch.

HOLLY. That’s how it’s gonna be?

ROBERT. What do you want me to say? I’m entirely at your mercy. I’m entirely at everybody’s mercy.

HOLLY. Oh, come on.

ROBERT. What?

HOLLY. Stop being a baby. You never used to be a baby.

ROBERT. I’m old.

HOLLY. So am I.

ROBERT. I’m –

HOLLY. Feeling sorry for yourself.

ROBERT. I am, yes. My world is falling apart and even my friends –

HOLLY. Me? Your friend?

ROBERT. Of course.

HOLLY. I haven’t spoken to you in forty years.

ROBERT. Thirty-eight.

HOLLY. You didn’t even recognise me when I walked through the door, I know you didn’t. I saw it. You had this glazed-over look in your eyes like: ‘Who the hell is this again?’

ROBERT. I recognised you, of course I did.

HOLLY. ‘Who the fuck’s this now?’

ROBERT. It just took me a minute.

HOLLY. It shouldn’t take you a minute to know me.

ROBERT. Why not?

HOLLY. Because it’s me, Robert. I’m kinda important.

‘

ROBERT. I’m sorry if I was rude.

HOLLY. Dr Phil said an apology followed by an ‘if’ or a ‘but’ isn’t an apology.

ROBERT. I’m sorry that I was rude. I’m grateful you’re here. I’m extremely grateful.

HOLLY. You’re welcome.

‘

Is there anywhere I can sit?

ROBERT. There.

She gives him a look: ‘Are you sure?’

It’s just a chair.

She sits.

They look at each other.

HOLLY. Shall we talk?

ROBERT. We can talk.

HOLLY. Before we get into… What shall we talk about?

ROBERT. How’ve you been? I don’t know anything about how you’ve been.

HOLLY. You haven’t kept track of me?

ROBERT. Not particularly.

HOLLY. I kept track of you.

‘

You never googled me? You never wondered how I was?

ROBERT. I heard when you got outta prison, obviously.

HOLLY. That was 1981.

ROBERT. And when Clinton pardoned you.

HOLLY. 2001. What about all the time in between? What about the last sixteen years?

ROBERT. I assumed I woulda heard if you’d died.

HOLLY. Those are the only two states of being that matter? Living or dead?