The Brightening Air E-Book

Conor McPherson

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

Seitenzahl: 105

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

'You'll remember how much of living is really just forgetting.' The family home is more than a building. It's a destination of pilgrimage, an inherited investment, a repository of memory or magic. But, for brother and sister Stephen and Billie, home is all they've got. Mucking along in their decaying farmhouse, they're doing just fine. That is, until the arrival of an ex-clergyman uncle with an unscrupulous plan, a sister-in-law seeking a miracle, and a prodigal brother hell-bent on trouble… An entrancing tale of fate, family and unseen forces in 1980s Ireland, Conor McPherson's play The Brightening Air was the winner of the Edgerton Foundation New Play Award. It was first performed at The Old Vic, London, in 2025, directed by the playwright.

Leseprobe

Conor McPherson

THE BRIGHTENING AIR

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

Contents

Original Production

Epigraph

Characters

The Brightening Air

About the Authors

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

The Brightening Air was first performed at The Old Vic, London, on 10 April 2025, with the following cast:

ELIZABETH

Derbhle Crotty

BRENDAN

Eimhin Fitzgerald Doherty

STEPHEN

Brian Gleeson

FREYA

Aisling Kearns

FATHER PIERRE

Seán McGinley

LYDIA

Hannah Morrish

DERMOT

Chris O’Dowd

BILLIE

Rosie Sheehy

UNDERSTUDIES

BILLIE/FREYA

Ella Maria Carmen

BRENDAN/STEPHEN

Callum Cronin

DERMOT/FATHER PIERRE

Joseph McCarthy

ELIZABETH/LYDIA

Amy Vicary-Smith

Director

Conor McPherson

Set & Costume

Rae Smith

Lighting

Mark Henderson

Sound

Gregory Clarke

Movement & Intimacy

Lucy Hind

Casting

Serena Hill CDG

Voice

Charlie Hughes-D’Aeth

Dialect

Danièle Lydon

Fights

Kate Waters

Associate Director

Anastasia Osei-Kuffour

Associate Set

Niall McKeever

Costume Supervisor

Poppy Hall

Wigs, Hair & Make-Up Supervisor

Kim Kasim

Props Supervisor

Fahmida Bakht

Music Associate

Ben McQuigg

Company Stage Manager

Laura Draper

Deputy Stage Manager

Fran O’Donnell

Assistant Stage Manager (Book Cover)

Sophie Alice Cooper

It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air.

Characters

BILLIE, late twenties

STEPHEN, her brother, early forties

DERMOT, brother to Billie and Stephen, forties

LYDIA, married to Dermot, forties

FATHER PIERRE, uncle to Billie, Stephen and Dermot, sixties

ELIZABETH, housekeeper to Father Pierre, fifties

FREYA, café waitress, twenties

BRENDAN, a farmer and barman, twenties

Setting

A large house in the countryside in Ireland, 1981.

Note on Text

Words in [square brackets] are unspoken.

This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

ACT ONE

A large room in an old house in the country. A generous bay window looking out at bare trees. A piano. The carpet is worn. The furniture is tired.

It’s late afternoon. LYDIA and BILLIE are carrying food and plates into a table set for drinks, snacks and sandwiches.

LYDIA. Put these up the far end.

BILLIE. Can we talk?

LYDIA. Set the table and you can talk about whatever you want.

BILLIE. You start.

LYDIA. Okay. Stations.

BILLIE. Yeah – go.

LYDIA. Limerick Junction.

BILLIE. Yeah.

LYDIA. Talk to me.

BILLIE. There’s no town there. Just a station. No one lives there. No one stays there. You just transfer.

LYDIA. You come and go.

BILLIE. Yeah, go anywhere. Like to a real place.

LYDIA. Escape anywhere.

BILLIE. Yeah, no one would know which way you went.

LYDIA (frowns). There’s no town there?

BILLIE. There’s nothing there. It’s the middle of Tipperary. It’s like a magic door. Get yourself a ticket to Limerick Junction, change platforms, and poof – you’re gone!

LYDIA. Boom.

BILLIE. Shoot across to Rosslare Harbour. Ferry to Le Havre. SNCF to Paris, Orient Express to Istanbul – if you don’t mind changing at Bucharest.

LYDIA. No, I don’t mind.

BILLIE. Okay – well, once a week I think it is – there’s a service to Tehran. Get yourself down there – through Iran, across Pakistan, bang, down into New Delhi, on to Varanasi. You know what’s there, of course?

LYDIA. No.

BILLIE. In Varanasi? The Manikarnika Ghat. Where the steps lead down to the River Ganges. They cremate the bodies of the dead there twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You wanna be cremated there, Lydia, you know why?

LYDIA. Why?

BILLIE. ’Cause if you’re burned there and your bones are thrown in the River Ganges – you won’t be reincarnated any more, you’re free. Your soul is washed clean, and you finally return to nothingness. With none of this life stuck on you any more.

LYDIA. I must do that then.

BILLIE. Yup – just get a ticket for Limerick Junction and off you go. Where will I put the cake?

LYDIA. In the middle.

BILLIE. Pride of place. Should we test it? Do a taste test.

LYDIA. You will not! You’ll have your lunch with everyone else.

BILLIE. Lunch? It’s five o’clock.

LYDIA. Late lunch.

BILLIE. Dinner.

LYDIA. Early dinner.

BILLIE. Linner. Lunner.

LYDIA. Dinch.

BILLIE. Dunch.

A tired-looking man in his forties comes through.

STEPHEN. What are you doing?

LYDIA. Setting the table.

STEPHEN. For what?

LYDIA. What do you mean, for what?

STEPHEN. For who?

LYDIA. For your uncle. For when everyone is here. What do you think?

STEPHEN. Billie, you left the gate open, your chickens are all over the shop.

BILLIE. What?!

STEPHEN. I told you a million times.

BILLIE (going). And you can tell me a billion times and I still won’t do it. So, understand that.

STEPHEN. Stupidity’s beyond understanding.

BILLIE. That’s why you’re so thick.

She’s gone.

LYDIA. This was my idea. Don’t take it out on her.

STEPHEN. Take what out?

LYDIA just looks at him. He bites a sandwich. She changes the subject.

LYDIA. Billie seems good.

STEPHEN. Her fingers are all bent.

LYDIA. Yes, I saw.

STEPHEN. She won’t go to physiotherapy unless I let her go on the train.

LYDIA. You won’t let her?

STEPHEN. She can’t manage on her own. She’ll get to Sligo, walk out of the station, get hit by another car.

LYDIA. I could go with her.

STEPHEN. She won’t let anyone go with her. It’s impossible.

LYDIA. I know.

STEPHEN. Do you?

LYDIA drops it. Watches him for a moment.

LYDIA. So look. Dermot’s coming.

STEPHEN. What here?

LYDIA. Mm. See your uncle. See everyone.

STEPHEN. See everyone?

LYDIA. He loves you, Stephen. He loves Billie.

STEPHEN. Yeah. He loves Billie.

He looks out the window.

LYDIA. See how you’ve been. How have you been?

STEPHEN. I’m great. How have you been?

LYDIA. Good. Yeah. I must get some of your eggs.

STEPHEN. Eggs is Billie.

LYDIA. Place looks well.

STEPHEN. It’s cold.

LYDIA. It’s a bit cold.

STEPHEN. Wind gets in everywhere. Rain gets in.

LYDIA. Has Dermot said anything?

STEPHEN. Said what?

LYDIA. Dermot. And your uncle.

STEPHEN. What?

LYDIA. I’ll let them tell you.

STEPHEN. Tell me what?

LYDIA. Nothing.

STEPHEN. They want to sell. Get me and Billie out to sell it.

LYDIA. No, I don’t think so.

STEPHEN. Then what?

LYDIA (has had enough). I said I’ll let them tell you!

STEPHEN. That’s why everyone’s coming. I wouldn’t mind but I’ve tried to get him to sell it to me. Buy them out. They won’t sell it.

LYDIA. What if he wants to sell it to someone else?

STEPHEN. Is that what they said?

LYDIA. No, I don’t – No.

STEPHEN. Then what?

LYDIA. Something. I don’t know. But not selling it.

STEPHEN. Yeah, something. Then fuck him. I’ll find us somewhere.

LYDIA. You’ll always keep Billie with you, of course.

STEPHEN. What choice do I have?

LYDIA. She could stay with us.

STEPHEN (sarcastic). Yeah, right. If they try to fucking sell this… they’ll… Let them try. (Changes the subject.) So how have you been? Did I ask you that? What’s going on?

LYDIA. Nothing. The usual.

STEPHEN. All the usual.

LYDIA. Mm.

STEPHEN. Life and the whole lot.

LYDIA. Dermot’s wandering again, you probably know that. So what’s new?

STEPHEN. Yeah?

LYDIA. My own fault, of course. For giving him so many chances.

STEPHEN (shakes his head). He was always like that.

LYDIA (a little laugh). You might have told me!

STEPHEN. There was no telling you.

LYDIA. He’s gone in the head. Girl over in Annaduff. We never see him. I’ve asked him what are we going to do. Says he doesn’t know.

STEPHEN. Kick him out.

LYDIA. We have two children! I can’t kick him out.

STEPHEN. Kids’ll still have him. He won’t be dead.

LYDIA. He’s as upset as I am.

STEPHEN. Yeah… Give me a break.

LYDIA. Maybe you could…

STEPHEN. Maybe what? He doesn’t talk to me.

LYDIA (smiles). Do you remember when we were younger? You told me about the water from the well up there in the fox’s covert?

STEPHEN gives a little laugh.

Do you remember?

STEPHEN nods.

You said it could make someone fall in love with you.

STEPHEN nods.

Can you get me some?

STEPHEN. Are you serious?

LYDIA. You don’t believe in it?

STEPHEN. Believe in it? Can’t say I ever think about it.

LYDIA. Never think about love?

STEPHEN. No.

LYDIA. So this is it. You’re just gonna take care of your sister. Live on your own. Dinner for one. Dinner for two.

STEPHEN. Looks like it.

LYDIA (comes and picks some dirt off his jacket). It’s mad, isn’t it?

STEPHEN. What is?

LYDIA. I married the brother who can’t get enough. And here’s you, you don’t want any.

STEPHEN. Maybe there’s nothing left for anyone to have.

She looks at him. Walks away.

LYDIA. Will you get me some?

STEPHEN. Some what? Some of the water?

LYDIA. From the well.

STEPHEN. I’ll get it for five hundred pounds.

LYDIA. Five hundred pounds?!

STEPHEN. You can get it yourself if you want.

LYDIA. Okay, I will. Where is it exactly?

STEPHEN. You wouldn’t even know it even if you were looking at it. It’s just a trickle in the muck and the stones, in among the briars and the hawthorn. Little brass tap. I’d have to mow a way in. It’s two days’ work.

LYDIA. There’s a tap?

STEPHEN. Tiny little brass tap someone put there years ago. Centuries ago. I don’t know.

LYDIA. Five hundred pounds. Are you just punishing me?

STEPHEN. Why would I punish you? We were children.

LYDIA. Yeah well. Old pain lingers. Turns into arthritis.

STEPHEN. Not if you never feel anything any more. Did you put mustard on this?

LYDIA. You all love mustard.

STEPHEN. It’s good.

LYDIA. Does it work?

STEPHEN. Yeah, it’s nice.

LYDIA. I mean the water.

STEPHEN. They say you put it in his milk. Never in alcohol. Drink some when he drinks it. Say a Hail Mary.

LYDIA. A Hail Mary?!

STEPHEN. Or something – whatever. Say something. I don’t know. I always heard it was a Hail Mary. And then you have to be the first person he sees when he wakes up. And that’s it.

LYDIA. You’ve never tried it?

STEPHEN. Five hundred pound. Look I can’t say fairer than that. It’s a day and a night digging in there, I’ll have the face and hands cut off me.

LYDIA (tone of ‘So what?’). Well.

STEPHEN. To bewitch your own husband.

LYDIA. I’d only be doing it for the children.

STEPHEN (dismissive). Yeah. You’re mad in your fucking head.

LYDIA. Will you get it for me?

ELIZABETH. Here you all are!

They turn to see a handsome woman of about fifty in the doorway.

LYDIA. Elizabeth! Look at you.

ELIZABETH. And look at you all.

LYDIA. We never heard you coming.

ELIZABETH. We parked at the bottom of the driveway. Father Pierre wanted to walk up.

LYDIA. Can he find his way?

ELIZABETH. He’s feeling his way along with his stick.

LYDIA. What can he see?

ELIZABETH. Vague light and shadow.

STEPHEN. His nose will lead him to the damp.

ELIZABETH. How are you, Stephen?

STEPHEN. I’m fantastic.

ELIZABETH. And Billie?

STEPHEN. She’s rocking.

ELIZABETH (putting down a bag or two). He wants to say mass while he’s here. I’m telling you now before he gets here.

STEPHEN. No problem.

ELIZABETH. He was worried that…

STEPHEN. No problem. He can say mass every day if he likes.

ELIZABETH. He rarely gets the opportunity any more. I mean he says mass with me there.

LYDIA. Just the two of you?

ELIZABETH. Yes, every morning after breakfast in the living room. You know the parish don’t pay my wages any more?

LYDIA. That’s terrible.

ELIZABETH. But I couldn’t leave him on his own. I was offered another job but…

LYDIA. No.

ELIZABETH. He can’t do anything for himself.

STEPHEN. You’re like an old married couple.

ELIZABETH. I suppose we are!

LYDIA. They should allow marriage for priests.

ELIZABETH. I don’t want to marry him, Lydia!

LYDIA. No, I mean…

ELIZABETH. I’m his housekeeper.

LYDIA. No, that’s… I just mean – in general.

FATHER PIERRE. Look who I found!

BILLIE leads FATHER PIERRE in.

BILLIE. He walked in cowshite twice!

ELIZABETH (coming to FATHER PIERRE, pulling at his dirty trousers). What? Ah look at you!

FATHER PIERRE (embarrassed, fiercely). Get off me! It’s fine. (Suddenly cordial.) Look who’s here! Who’s here?

LYDIA. Me, Father – Lydia, Dermot’s wife.

FATHER PIERRE. Dermot’s wife!

LYDIA. Lydia.

FATHER PIERRE. Yes, yes. And Dermot!

LYDIA. No, it’s Stephen.

STEPHEN. The younger one.

ELIZABETH. The handsome one.

FATHER PIERRE. Yes, I know, I know! Stephen. And Billie is here. Look at the size of her! Who else – did you never get married, Stephen?