This Might Not Be It (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Sophia Chetin-Leuner

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 76

Beschreibung

Jay's new. He's just started as a temp in NHS Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services. He arrives with little more than a fledgling desk plant and well-meaning plans to change the broken system. Angela's been working here for over thirty years and nothing seems to faze her – except Jay. Exhausted and worn down by archaic protocol, Jay starts bending the rules in a desperate attempt to help their patients. But when professional boundaries are crossed and trust is shattered, he discovers the harsh reality of what's truly at stake. Sophia Chetin-Leuner's play This Might Not Be It is a candid portrayal of human lives at the mercy of our crumbling NHS. The play was longlisted for the Verity Bargate Award and shortlisted for the Women's Prize for Playwriting. It was premiered at the Bush Theatre, London, in 2023, directed by Ed Madden and produced by Broccoli Arts and Jessie Anand Productions. 'The beauty of this piece is that it speaks in a universal language about the way people find ways of co-existing in an office where space is tight and time is short' - The Times 'Intriguing and immensely engaging' - Guardian 'Timely and compelling& the characters are startlingly vivid, filled with hopes, flaws and intriguing contradictions' - The Stage 'Affecting, with much to admire' - Telegraph

Leseprobe

Sophia Chetin-Leuner

THIS MIGHT NOT BE IT

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Original Production Details

Characters

Notes

This Might Not Be It

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

This Might Not Be It was first performed at the Bush Theatre, London, on 30 January 2024, produced by Broccoli Arts and Jessie Anand Productions. The cast was as follows:

JAY

Denzel Baidoo

ANGELA

Debra Baker

BETH

Dolly Webb

Director

Ed Madden

Set and Costume Designer

Alys Whitehead

Lighting Designer

Laura Howard

Sound Designer

Max Pappenheim

Associate Sound Designer

Sasha Howe

Stage Manager on Book

Kanoko Shimizu

Production Manager

Chloe Stally-Gibson

Casting Associate

Fran Cattaneo

Outreach Consultant

Maryam Shaharuddin

Producer

Broccoli Arts

Producer

Jessie Anand Productions

Associate Producer

Rory Thomas-Howes

Associate Producer

Bush Theatre

Characters

ANGELA, fifty-six JAY, twenty BETH, seventeen and a half

Notes

A dash ( – ) indicates an interrupted thought or unfinished sentence.

A forward slash ( / ) signifies an interruption.

An ellipsis (…) suggests a loaded or pregnant pause.

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

Tuesday, 9.30 a.m.

The check-in office at a NHS Children and Adolescent Mental Health Service (CAMHS).

There are nine floors in the building, this is the fourth floor – the outpatient facility.

There are two desks crammed in the small office, both covered with papers and files stacked high like kids’ forts.

There is a plexiglass window that looks out onto a waiting room scattered with kids’ drawings, inspirational posters, hand sanitiser and paper masks, anti-bullying leaflets and those toys you see in waiting rooms and nowhere else.

ANGELA, sits at the desk facing the plexiglass.

It’s hot. A cheap fan is set up in the corner, angled towards ANGELA.

ANGELA (on the phone). Mmm… Mmm… I know. Okay. I know. I know. Okay.

She sighs heavily.

Okay. Spell her name for me again, would you? Yeah I know how to spell Beth, Gary, I meant – M… U… Oh it’s her again, is it? What’s happened now?

She rummages through loads of paper on her desk.

Ah. Okay. Okay.

Found her.

She opens the file, more paper spews out.

Yeah. Yeah – okay so what’s the problem? But she’s almost eighteen. Well it is best to put her with the adult referrals. They won’t take her yet? For god’s sake. Alright but, Gary, I’m looking at her folder now and it doesn’t say urgent. And right now for a standard ref you’re looking at – I know. I know. All I’m saying – Gary – all I’m saying – yes I know – I know they are – I know – so what I’m saying is her birthday is in Feb so it would be better –

Meanwhile, JAY, walks up to the door that separates the office from the waiting room. He carries a plant. He has that cocky awkward energy a lot of young men have but it’s a bit softer around the edges, maybe because he’s nervous.

He can’t get in. He taps on the plexiglass.

ANGELA holds up a finger – ‘one minute’.

JAY struggles with the plant. Taps again.

ANGELA sighs and puts the phone to her shoulder. She cranes her neck a bit to be heard through the opening at the bottom of the plexiglass.

What time’s your appointment, love?

JAY. No – um – I’m Jay?

ANGELA. Date of birth?

JAY. No no sorry, I’m Jay.

I was sent – did they not – did Gary not tell you I was coming?

He puts the plant down.

ANGELA. Ohh, Jay. (To phone.) I’m gonna have to call you back. The temp’s just arrived.

JAY. The new – yeah, hi.

ANGELA buzzes the door open as he’s speaking. JAY struggles to pick up the plant in time and make it to the door. A little dance where he pushes and she has to buzz again.

Eventually the door opens and JAY finds himself in the office.

ANGELA. Sorry, darling, you look so young I thought you were a patient!

JAY politely laughs.

He looks around the room.

JAY. So – um –

He pushes the plant onto the desk opposite ANGELA’s (if sitting looking at their monitors, they are back to back).

He uses the hand sanitiser by the door, then wipes the sweat off his forehead, thinks about extending his hand to ANGELA, but decides against it.

Nice to meet you – Angela, yeah?

He’s not impolite, but has the disingenuousness of someone who hasn’t been in a professional setting before and doesn’t want to let it show.

I hope the plant is cool. The smell of the doctor’s has always / creeped me out –

ANGELA. How old are you?

JAY. – and my sister said it’s supposed to clean the air – uh – I’m twenty.

ANGELA. Bloody hell.

JAY, uncomfortable but trying to be polite, inspects his new desk, which is covered in papers.

Don’t mind those, just shove them out the way.

She scoops up the papers and plonks them on her own desk.

JAY. Thank you.

That a fax machine?

ANGELA. So did Gary give you a checklist then?

JAY. Yeah. Yes.

ANGELA. Let’s have a look.

JAY. Don’t worry, he took me through it –

ANGELA. Gary couldn’t take you through his morning commute without overcomplicating it.

She gestures for him to hand it over. He reluctantly removes a folder from his dishevelled Nike backpack and hands it to her.

Here. We. Go.

She flicks through it as if evaluating a patient.

Well, this should take you through till the end of the week. At least. You’ll want to start with the discharges –

JAY. Gary said to start with the self-assessments because there are so many new referrals –

ANGELA. Gary hasn’t been working here for twenty-five years now, has he?

JAY. …I don’t know?

ANGELA. Start with the discharges then give me a shout and I’ll take you through the next bit. Don’t be overwhelmed. It’s a lot but we’ve been handling it.

JAY (finding this slightly funny). Okay.

ANGELA. Let me know if you have any questions, alright, poppet?

She swivels away from him, turning back to her monitor.

JAY. Thank you (?)

He looks at the back of her head… then around the room…

So, um, Gary also said I should make some space in here. Start with the SafeCare.

ANGELA. Mm?

JAY. He asked if I would organise the office a bit. Get rid of some of this paper. Start the online system – did he not tell you? The – the SafeCare?

ANGELA. He did, did he?

JAY. Yeah, I mean, so it would be great if you could tell me what your system is here so I can not, like, get in your way too much.

ANGELA. You’re alright, love.

JAY. It shouldn’t take me long. Give it a bit of order.

ANGELA. Why don’t you like the smell, sweetheart?

JAY. I’m happy to – what?

ANGELA. ‘The doctor’s.’ What’s it smell of?

JAY. Oh. Um. I dunno, like, a bit sweet?

ANGELA. Huh.

JAY. It’s just – Gary asked me to start with the data entry so maybe I can get going this afternoon?

ANGELA. I’d rather you didn’t actually.

JAY doesn’t know what to do.

JAY. …okay.

ANGELA smiles and turns back to her monitor.

JAY is about to sit down when –

Suddenly the sound of loud screams, running, glass breaking.

A car alarm goes off.

JAY runs to the window and cranks it open to peer down into the car park.

ANGELA looks annoyed by the draught.

Oh my god –

What the –

ANGELA sighs: ‘not again…’ She doesn’t take her eyes off her screen.

He’s – they’re – is he okay?

ANGELA. What car was it this time?

JAY. No – a – a person just – he’s smashed his –

ANGELA. He’ll be fine, what car is it?

More loud screams, sounds of staff trying to restrain someone.

JAY. What is –

ANGELA. What car is it, darling? – don’t make me ask again.

JAY. I dunno – a silver one – a – a – a – a Nissan?

ANGELA smiles, relieved.

What do we do?

She looks at him then picks up the phone.

ANGELA. Hiya –

Was it –

He okay?

Okay.

Okay then.

JAY frantically turns between her and the window.

Well, let me know if you need anything.

She hangs up.

He’ll be alright.

JAY. He’ll be alright?!

Sirens.

ANGELA. See? It’s fine.

JAY. Should I go help?

ANGELA. Up to you really.

ANGELA returns to her typing.

JAY glares at ANGELA peering at her screen and charges out the room.

JAY. How often does this happen?

ANGELA raises her eyebrows as if ‘what’s his problem?’ and takes a loud sip of her tea.

Thursday, 2.10 p.m.

ANGELA is doing a demonstration for JAY at her computer. He stands behind her chair, keeping his distance.

ANGELA. So. You get the referrals up on this log and print them –

JAY. Yep.

ANGELA. And then you sort them into urgent or standard.

JAY. We do that?