Unscorched E-Book

Luke Owen

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

Seitenzahl: 65

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

A courageous and convincing play that sensitively tackles the important subject of child abuse. Tom works in digital analysis, investigating crimes against children. Faced with watching recordings of the most unforgiveable acts on a daily basis, in a job that barely anyone else can endure, he struggles to retain his humanity. Meeting Emily might just mean that his life has changed for the better, but when your entire working day is spent watching horrific crimes, how do you find room for love? Luke Owen's play Unscorched was the winner of the 2013 Papatango New Writing Competition in partnership with the Finborough Theatre, London, where it premiered in October 2013.

Leseprobe

Luke Owen

UNSCORCHED

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Title Page

Original Production

Characters and Note on Text

Unscorched

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Unscorched was first performed at the Finborough Theatre, London, on 29 October 2013, with the following cast:

NIDGE

John Hodgkinson

SIMON

Richard Atwill

MARK

George Turvey

TOM

Ronan Raftery

EMILY

Eleanor Wyld

Director

Justin Audibert

Designer

Georgia Lowe

Lighting Designer

Joshua Carr

Sound Designer

Richard Hammarton

Production Manager       

Timothy Peacock

Stage Manager

Roisin Symes

Casting Director

Emily Jones

Assistant Director

Jonny Kelly

Producer

Chris Foxon

Assistant Producer

Jessica Campbell

The play won the 2013 Papatango New Writing Competition, and was produced by the company.

Characters

TOM

EMILY

NIDGE

MARK

SIMON

VOICE

VOICE #2

Simon and the voices can easily be played by the same person, so the cast size is five (one female, four male).

Note on Text

Any dialogue in square brackets can be omitted, ‘swallowed’ or barely spoken. It should not be spoken in full.

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

Scene One

An office.

There are two desks, each with a chair and a computer. Connected to each computer are: a mouse, a keyboard, two monitors and a set of headphones.

There is a small kitchenette: sink, cupboards, kettle, kitchen roll, milk (either UHT or in a fridge), sugar, teabags.

There is a small dehumidifier. Its water tank is full.

When the audience is ready:

Music: ‘Prelude No. 1 in C Major’ –J. S. Bach.

Enter NIDGE (name rhymes with ‘fridge’).

He turns on the main light. He puts down his bag. He switches his computer on. He takes off his coat and hangs it up.

He removes the dehumidifier’s water tank. He empties it into the sink. He puts the water tank back into the dehumidifier. It clicks into life.

He sits at his desk.

He picks up a clipboard, attached to which are dozens of printed sheets of A4. He skim-reads. He flicks through a few pages. He puts the clipboard down.

He starts working at his computer.

Seconds pass.

The music ends.

Enter SIMON, late.

SIMON. Sorry. Sorry.

NIDGE. ’s all right.

SIMON sits and switches his computer on.

SIMON. When’s he –

NIDGE. Ten minutes.

Beat.

[What] happened with that stuff from Friday?

SIMON. Finished.

NIDGE. Great.

Beat.

Good weekend?

SIMON. Yeah. Fine. You?

NIDGE. Yeah, [it wa]s all right.

Beat.

You okay to take the first batch?

SIMON. Sure – what is it?

NIDGE. It’s, uh, Z492 up to Z499.

SIMON. ’kay. When’s it due?

NIDGE. Last Thursday.

Silence.

SIMON clicks his mouse.

He hits F8 a few times, annoyed.

He presses and holds his computer’s power button. The computer powers down. He presses it again. It whirrs back into life.

’s it all right?

SIMON. It’s fine.

NIDGE. Might be the damp.

SIMON. Might be.

Silence.

SIMON presses and holds his computer’s power button. The computer powers down. He presses it again. It whirrs back into life.

Silence.

SIMON hits ‘Esc’ a few times.

NIDGE. [Is it] still playing up?

SIMON. Yup.

Silence.

NIDGE. [Have] you tried Safe Mode?

SIMON. Yes, Nidge, thank you for your input.

Silence.

NIDGE. [Did you] see Helen over the weekend?

SIMON. Have you done something to this?

NIDGE. No.

Silence.

Look, phone Gav.

SIMON. I’m not phoning Gav; Gav’s a shit.

Beat.

I don’t need Gav.

NIDGE. What’s it doing?

SIMON. Just…

Silence.

NIDGE. [Do you] want some tea?

SIMON. No thank you.

Silence.

NIDGE. You okay?

Silence.

Si?

Beat.

SIMON. Hmm?

NIDGE. You all right?

SIMON. [I’m] fine.

Silence.

SIMON presses and holds his computer’s power button. The computer powers down. He presses it again. It whirrs back into life.

Silence.

NIDGE. Look, [we] might as well get Gav. This 457 stuff, we’ve –

SIMON. Wait, wait… 457? No. No no no. We finished that. We’re –

NIDGE. [We’ve] had more links come in.

Silence.

SIMON. I’m not doing those.

NIDGE. Si…

SIMON. I’m not. You can.

NIDGE. I am. I’m doing half.

SIMON. How many?

Beat.

NIDGE. Three hundred.

Silence.

SIMON (devastated). Right.

Silence.

Mark promised.

NIDGE. But, mate, it’s Mark.

Silence.

Let’s have a break, yeah? While your computer’s loading.

What do you fancy? Buckaroo? KerPlunk? [Or a] bit of Xbox! What’s that racing game you like? With the robots.

SIMON start to cry, silently.

Silence.

Oh! Hang on. You have to see this. Today’s dose of awesome.

He holds up a folder.

(Mock epic.) Behold! I present ye: one ordinary-looking folder, identical in shape, size and nature to that possessed by one Mark Hampton. But nay! Gadzooks! Inside: every twenty-third word has been translated into Welsh!

Beat.

Oh, come on, Si – we can do anything! We could go chair racing through the corridors, we could superglue Mark’s door shut, we could… we can do literally anything, Si; the world is our oyster and it’s a beautiful day.

Silence.

What’s up? Si. What’s wrong? [I] can’t help you unless you tell me.

SIMON. I’m fine.

NIDGE. Okay. Will you help me do the 457 stuff? For me.

SIMON. No.

NIDGE. Si…

SIMON. I can’t.

Beat.

NIDGE. You don’t really have a lot of choice. [I’m] sorry. Someone has to.

SIMON. Not me.

NIDGE. Then who?

Beat.

SIMON (gesturing towards NIDGE). Well…

NIDGE. Would if I could. But… you know, six hundred links…

SIMON. Wait, you mean it’s three hundred… each?

Tense silence.

NIDGE leaps to his feet, energetic.

NIDGE. Right, sod it, let’s play some hangman!

As he writes on an imaginary whiteboard with an imaginary pen:

’kay – one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! Ten letters! Right – first letter!

SIMON. I don’t know.

NIDGE. Have a guess. First letter.

SIMON. I can’t do this.

NIDGE. Yes you can! Come on, Simon! First letter! What are we saying – ‘E’ ? Yeah?

Beat.

Right, ‘E’!

(Writing it in.) Third letter. Last letter. Right! Come on, Si – doing well! Next letter!

Beat.

Next letter.

SIMON. How are you okay?

Silence.

The things we see. How are you not…

Silence.

I mean, look at me. Just fucking look.

Silence.

I can’t get rid of this. I can’t erase it.

SIMON cries silently.

Seconds pass.

NIDGE takes some kitchen roll from the kitchenette. He walks to SIMON’s desk.

He offers it to SIMON. SIMON doesn’t take it.

NIDGE puts it on SIMON’s desk.

NIDGE. What would help? Si.

Silence.

Shall I put some music on?

Silence.

How about some cake, yeah?

Silence.

Or some orange juice? You like orange.

SIMON. [There]’s no orange left.

NIDGE. Lemon, then.

Silence.

I’ll get you some lemon.

NIDGE goes to the kitchenette.

He makes a cup of lemon squash.

He gives it to SIMON.

Beat.

SIMON pours it over his monitors.

Fuck!

A spark and a bang. Blackout.

After a few seconds the emergency lighting kicks in.

Silence.

SIMON. I quit. I quit.

NIDGE picks up his phone. He presses a button.

He waits.

NIDGE (phone). Hey, it’s me. Could you pop through?

Beat.

Uh, no, no, [it] needs to be now. Thanks.

NIDGE hangs up.

They wait.

Enter MARK. He cautiously approaches SIMON.

MARK. Si?

Silence.

Simon, mate, it’s Mark.

Silence.

Just wondered if you fancied popping into my office, buddy.

Just for a bit of a chat.

Silence.

SIMON (quiet). Am I fired?

MARK. We just need to have a chat, buddy.

Silence.

SIMON (quiet). I’m so sorry.

MARK. I know.

SIMON. I wanted to help people.

Silence.

MARK. Shall we pop through to my office?

Silence.

SIMON. Okay.

SIMON starts to get up. MARK helps him.

MARK. Come on, then.

SIMON. I killed my computer.

MARK. That’s okay, come on.

MARK starts to lead SIMON out of the room.

(To