Every Other Wednesday

Or
 

The Morning After The Night Before

Act One:

[The curtain lifts on a typical medium sized bedroom. The double bed lies USC and is occupied by two individuals. DSR there is a dressing table with various scattered objects on it- deodorants, hairbrushes, make up etc. - all very untidy. USL there is a door out of the bedroom into the kitchen- off. DSL there is a one-seater chair with clothes strewn across it. The clothes are both male and female and lead up to the bed. Window with curtain shut USR. The stereo sits next to the chair, cds stacked by it.]

[9:27 (seen on the bedside clock) all is quiet. One of the characters in the bed stirs, she moves over and then opens her eyes, she looks at the clock, rubs her eyes and sits up in the bed, her hair is a mess and the make-up from the night before stains her face. She looks over at the boy who lies in the bed next to her, he stirs but does not wake. Eventually she carefully lifts the covers back and steps from the bed, naked. She starts to collect her clothes up from the floor before she catches sight of herself in the mirror on the wall. She walks closer and starts to inspect her face and then tries in vain to arrange her hair and rub off the worst of the make-up stains with her thumb. She gives up.]

Sarah: God.

[The boy stirs again and she looks over at him, holds her gaze for a moment and then searches for her underwear, she finds her pants and climbs into them. Looking for her bra takes longer and brings her round to the boy’s side of the bed, where it is lodged on the bedside lamp. This triggers a memory and she smiles. She looks again at the boy, goes to touch him just as he wakes, she retreats to the chair and puts her shirt on, inside out.]

Nick: What time is it?

[He looks around himself, bewildered as he has just woken.]

Sarah: Half nine.
Nick: What are you doing?
Sarah: I’ve got to go.
Nick: I see. Do you want a cup of tea?
Sarah: Not really.

[Pause]

Nick: Well I do.

[He clambers out of bed, naked, finds his dressing gown, puts it on and exits USL.]

Nick: Your shirt’s on inside out.

[Sarah looks and sees he’s right, changes it over and she puts her shirt on the right way and pulls on her trousers as she staggers over to the dressing table and tries to comb her hair, apply make-up etc.]

VO Nick: Sure you don’t want a cuppa?
Sarah: No thanks. Better be going, you know.
VO Nick: Sure. Lot on today?
Sarah: You know.

[Nick enters USL and stands leaning on the doorframe watching Sarah.]

Nick: No.
Sarah: What?
Nick: I don’t know what you’ve got on today.
Sarah: Oh, well nothing important, this and that.
Nick: Do you want to stay a bit longer?
Sarah: Can’t.
Nick: Why not?
Sarah: Just can’t. Come on Nick give me a break.

[Pause in which the kettle boils. Exit Nick USL, Sarah carries on with her make-up. After a moment Nick enters with his cup of tea, he wanders over to the chair sipping it loudly. He moves all of the clothes and sits down.]

Nick: Did you enjoy last night?
Sarah: (turning her head) Yes, very much. You?
Nick: It was alright.

[Pause]

[Nick gets up out of the chair and goes and opens the curtains. He stands for a moment looking out of the window.]

Nick: Suppose you’ll want to come back next Wednesday?
Sarah: Can’t next week, I’ve got something on. (Nick walks back to his chair.)
Nick: Who?
Sarah: Who, what?
Nick: Whom are you seeing next Wednesday?
Sarah: You know you don’t want to know.
Nick: I do want to know.
Sarah: Trust me, you don’t.
Nick: Is it someone I know?
Sarah: No.
Nick: Why won’t you tell me then?
Sarah: Oh for God’s sake Nick.

[Pause]

Nick: I can’t make it myself next week actually.
Sarah: No? What you up to?
Nick: I’m seeing a girl. Laura is her name. I met her in my Post 1960’s counter culture seminar, she asked me about Churchill, I said ‘Carol or Winston’, she laughed, we got talking.
Sarah: She pretty?
Nick: Very. Blonde. Clever to. Might take her for a drink, maybe on to a club or something, who knows she may even come back here with me.
Sarah: Yeah? So you won’t be wanting to see me anymore then I suppose.
Nick: I didn’t say that.
Sarah: Well what about this girl?
Nick: She’s not you.

[Pause]

[Sarah gets up and wanders over to where Nick is sitting. She runs her hand over his face, he kisses her hand and she smiles.]

Sarah: You know this can’t go on Nick.

[She sits on the bed.]

Nick: Why not?
Sarah: You know why. We’ve become far too close.
Nick: What’s wrong with that? It’s what happens sometimes between boys and girls. I’m sorry if you’ve had bad experiences in the past with relationships or whatever your sodding problem is but sometimes people get on well and want to be together.
Sarah: You think we get on well do you?
Nick: Well as a matter of fact I do Sarah.
Sarah: Yeah, well maybe on the other side of a bottle of whisky we do, but a relationship needs more than that Nicholas.
Nick: Eighty percent of the people in this country were born out of that bottle of whisky on a Saturday night.
Sarah: Really? Well I’m very sorry to upset you but maybe I want more out of my life. What exactly do you think can happen between us Nick? It’s hardly the most ordinary of set ups is it? What do you want- boyfriend and girlfriend, hand in hand in the park, bollocks.
Nick: Whatever, I don’t care anyway.

[Sarah gets up from the bed and wanders around looking for her socks and shoes, she finds one but cannot find another, throughout the preceding dialogue Nick finds one of her socks and hides it under his dressing gown.]

Sarah: It’s my birthday tomorrow.
Nick: That’s nice. Doing anything exciting? Dinner and then the ballet perhaps?
Sarah: No. Just a couple of drinks with some mates. Thought you might like to come.
Nick: Yeah?
Sarah: Maybe not.

[Pause]

Nick: How old will you be?
Sarah: How old do you want me to be?
Nick: Very clever.

[Pause]

Sarah: Do you want to come?

[Nick gets up, the sock in his dressing gown pocket. He wanders over to the window again and stands facing it.]

Nick: I don’t think so.
Sarah: No, it’s probably not right is it.
Nick: (He turns to face her, she is still looking for her sock) Not right? I think the line between right and wrong has become a bit blurred in our time together Sarah.
Sarah: Maybe.
Nick: Thought we might be able to go for breakfast this morning, you know, like last week. Thought I might take you to Café au lait again. You liked it there.
Sarah: I hate fried food.
Nick: No, you hate the fact that they’ll make you fat.
Sarah: Look have you seen my bloody sock, I can’t find it. I’m gonna be late at this rate.
Nick: Late for what?
Sarah: None of your bloody business. Have you seen it or not.
Nick: No I’ve not.
Sarah: Well I’ll just have to manage without it.
Nick: Where are you going?
Sarah: Well if you insist on knowing everything about my private life I’ve got an interview.
Nick: For a job?
Sarah: No. For a place at a college actually.
Nick: A college? Doing what? A crash course on the best bars in east London? You’ll get top marks.
Sarah: Very funny. It’s a photography course. Just an evening thing but if I do well I might be able to start a proper course come September.
Nick: Photography eh. Didn’t know you were in to all that.
Sarah: Well at the risk of sounding like a cliché Nick, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.
Nick: What time have you got to be there?
Sarah: Eleven.
Nick: Eleven? That’s hours away. You’ve got time to go for breakfast then.
Sarah: Well I wanted to go home first, freshen up a bit. I know the heroine chic thing is in at the moment but I don’t think they’ll think I’m taking the whole thing completely seriously if I turn up looking like Robert Smith.

[Nick has wandered over to the other side of the room, he doesn’t want to sit down but is unsure what to do with himself. Eventually he comes to rest on the arm of the one-seater.]

Nick: So, my little Sarah wants to go to college eh? Moving up in the world are we?
Sarah: Trying to.
Nick: Why photography?
Sarah: I don’t know really.
Nick: You know they probably will ask you that question in the interview and if that’s the answer that you give then I doubt very much that you’ll get a place.
Sarah: Well I’m not quite as prepared as perhaps I would like to have been.
Nick: I can help you if you like, talk you through some interview techniques.
Sarah: I just need to get home and have a shower, get my head together.
Nick: You should let me help you.
Sarah: Look Nick I should really be going now.
Nick: Fine, go.
Sarah: Well I will. Are you gonna come out tomorrow night or not?
Nick: Where are you going to go?
Sarah: The Kings Head probably, about eight…
Nick: Ah The Kings Head, where we met if I’m not mistaken.
Sarah: Indeed it was.
Nick: And remind me Sarah how exactly was it that we met?
Sarah: Nick.
Nick: If I remember correctly you staggered up to me and asked if I had a mirror in my pants.
Sarah: Nick…
Nick: Then, when I said ‘no’. You said that that was funny because you could see yourself in them.
Sarah: Not one of my proudest moments I must admit.
Nick: We came back here and listened to the Smiths all night.
Sarah: I remember.
Nick: You told me how much you loved them and we argued about which was their best album.
Sarah: Strangeways here we come.
Nick: Meat is Murder.
Sarah: You always have had bad taste in music.
Nick: Stayed up all night as I recall. Listened to both albums back to back.
Sarah: And then the rest.
Nick: Fell in love with you that night.
Sarah: Nick please don’t.

[Nick jumps to his feet.]

Nick: Oh I didn’t bloody mean it.
Sarah: Nick.
Nick: Big mouth strikes again eh.
Sarah: It’s not good for either of us this.
Nick: Speak for yourself.
Sarah: I think we’d better call it quits after today.
Nick: Whatever.
Sarah: Look I want to try and make something of myself now. I don’t know if college is the right thing for me, but at least it’s a step in the right direction. I’ve been fucking about for too long now and I just want something else, something real. I’ve spent too many nights making too many stupid mistakes and too many mornings regretting them and hating myself. One morning I’d like to wake up in my own bed, without a hangover and have something in my day to look forward to. Not just the next night out. I’m fucking empty now, I don’t mean anything to anyone.
Nick: You mean something to me.
Sarah: Yeah but not in the right way. I want something real. Something in my life that stands for more than just drinking and fucking. 
Nick: It’s over-rated.
Sarah: Over-rated! It’s alright for you, you’ve got your whole university thing, it was always expected of you to get an education and make a difference. All that was expected of me was to work in a supermarket, perpetually waiting for my weekends when I can get out of my face and try and blot out the next fifty years.
Nick: You do mean something Sarah. You’ve got something inside you that’s different to all those others.
Sarah: By others I suppose you mean my friends.
Nick: Well I wasn’t going to say it but now you mention it some of your friends do have a tendency to be a little bit…common.
Sarah: You pompous twat. The only difference between me and them is that I’ve got some ambition, I’m not content with where I am and I want more. Don’t judge them because of their simple lives. They’re happy with the way they are.
Nick: You’ve just said that you hate that world. You can’t have it both ways Sarah. You can’t say that one thing is good enough for your friends but you’re above it, that’s hypocrisy Sarah.
Sarah: I’m not saying that I’m too good for them. I’m just saying that I want more, that’s all. It’s my business anyway, I don’t need to justify myself to you. If we keep on like this we’re just going to have a big argument about class and how we can’t help where we come from.
Nick: Well we can’t. Do you expect me to feel guilty because my parents are better off than yours, that I had better chances in my life? We’ve both had to work hard for what we’ve got you know.
Sarah: I’m not asking for you to feel any kind of middle class guilt Nick. Heaven forbid. I just want you not to judge me; give me the chance to go out and find something that makes me happy without looking down on me.

(Pause)

Nick: It works both ways you know Sarah.
Sarah: What do you mean?
Nick: I’ve seen the way that your friends look at me. ‘Oh look at the spoilt rich boy getting his rocks off by slumming it with us common townsfolk.’ The working classes have this fantastic way of blaming everyone else for their own problems. ‘It couldn’t possibly be my fault that my life is shit, I know I’ll blame the people that have worked hard to give their children a better chance in life.’
Sarah: Don’t be such an ignorant twat Nick.
Nick: You can call me whatever you like Sarah, it doesn’t change the truth.
Sarah: I’ll call you a lot worse things than that. I fucking hate it when you get on your high horse about society and class. You sound so boring. ‘Poor me, I’ve had it
so hard’.

(Pause)

Nick: Well I have!
Sarah: Oh really?!
Nick: Well…maybe not that hard…!

(They look at each other and after a moments pause give a slight, cautious laugh. They look apprehensively at each other, as if the laughter should have cleared the air but hasn’t.)

Nick: Look I’m sorry about what I said, I don’t mean it all you know. I just get worked up about silly things sometimes.
Sarah: I know. You only mean half of what you say. But which half?
Nick: Things aren’t like they used to be you know. If you really wanted to make something of yourself then you could easily get into a university.
Sarah: Haven’t got too many qualifications.
Nick: That means fuck all these days, there’s something for everyone out there. It seems that you need a degree to work in an office licence these days. I mean look at me, in a year’s time I’m going to graduate from Queen Mary’s with a degree in English Literature and 20 grand’s worth of debt, and the best part is I’ll be qualified for fuck all. Funny eh!?

[She comes forward and hugs him. He takes her gratefully in his arms.]

Sarah: So they say. I think most of it is finding the strength to stand up and look though. Step out from the cover of the world that’s kept me hidden for so long.
Nick: Maybe. We’ll find you something though.

[Sarah breaks from the hug and moves back a few paces, half-heartedly still looking for her sock, just an excuse to move away from Nick. He stays where he is. Hands in pockets.]

Sarah: Look Nick, I meant what I said.
Nick: About what?
Sarah: Well about us. I don’t think it’s such a good idea that we see each other as much any more. It’s one extra pressure that I don’t need at the moment.
Nick: You’re the only pressure in my life that I actually like.
Sarah: You need to ask yourself something.
Nick: What?
Sarah: What is it that you like so much about me?

(Nick remains silent.)

Sarah: You see, you can’t even come up with anything. I think it’s the idea of me that you like. Your little bit of rough, there when you wanna fell dirty, but easy to get rid of when you feel that middle class guilt return.
Nick: Bollocks.
Sarah: Maybe so, but ask yourself this, why is it that we only ever meet every other Wednesday?

(Nick remains silent again.)

Sarah: Look, I’ve got to go, I’d stay if I could, but there’s not much point if…
Nick: Just go please Sarah.
Sarah: (After a pause) Fine.

[Nick turns and picks up his wallet from the dressing table.]

Nick: How much is it?
Sarah: You know how much it is.
Nick: I’ve forgotten.

(Pause)

Sarah: Fifty for the hour, hundred for the whole night, like every time.
Nick: (Taking out the money) A hundred it is. You were worth every penny my dear.
Sarah: (Taking the money) See you round yeah.
Nick: See you round.

[Exit Sarah USL]

[Nick stands for a second, then he gets her sock out of his pocket, looks at it and then throws it on his bed.]

[Light down]