SMALL MERCIES

 

Characters:    KATHLEEN, a middle-aged woman

                      SYBIL, a woman in her late twenties

                      KINDLY NURSE 

                      GROUCHY NURSE

Scene:  A typical semi-private hospital room with two beds, one in spotlight, the other in darkness, standard hospital furniture (chair and small set of drawers by each bed, tray-table on wheels, etc.). A potted plant and half a dozen get well cards are arranged around the set of drawers nearest to the one occupied bed in the room, as are a flask of water and a glass, a clock, a few books, and reading glasses. In one corner of the room there is a sink. The door leading to the hospital corridor is at the far side of the stage.

 

As the curtain opens, KATHLEEN is asleep in bed. The room is dimly lit, suggesting night, and the spotlight is on her.

 

Very gradually, the light on the unoccupied bed reveals that there is another woman in the room, sitting on the other bed. Her head is wrapped in bandages and one leg and an arm are in plaster.  

 

Initially, the light on KATHLEEN’S side of the room is brighter, but as their conversation becomes more intimate, the light on SYBIL’S side grows brighter until it is almost as bright as the light on KATHLEEN’S side.

 

Sybil, sitting on the edge of her bed, watches KATHLEEN intently, and even as she watches, KATHLEEN stirs in bed as if aware she is being stared at, then suddenly shakes herself awake and sits bolt upright.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Starts violently as she notices SYBIL staring at her and brings both hands to her face.)  Oh!  I never saw you come in!

 

SYBIL:  Sorry if I woke you.

 

KATHLEEN:  No, that’s alright – I wasn’t very soundly asleep. I don’t sleep well these days, and I never sleep well here, what with all the noise and the nurses coming and going and all the coughing and clattering... Did you hear the commotion earlier?

 

SYBIL:  What commotion?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Animatedly) Well!  There were beepers going off and buzzers and people shouting back and forth –  quite an emergency, from the sound of it. Maybe –  I don’t know – an hour ago?

 

SYBIL:  Looks like I missed it, then.

 

KATHLEEN:  What time did you come in?

SYBIL:  (Gestures offhandedly)  Five minutes ago, maybe…I’ve been in casualty, though – I went there first and it took them a long time to patch me up.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Looking sympathetic) Well, yes, I can see. You look as if you’ve been through the wars!

 

SYBIL:  (Smiling, but nonchalant, waves her good hand dismissively)  Yeah, well, it looks a lot worse than it really is.

 

(A short period of silence during which KATHLEEN squirms, as if uncomfortable. She looks up at SYBIL several times as if she wants to ask more questions but does not have the nerve to do so)

 

KATHLEEN:  (Clears her throat). Did they tell you about the toilet on the right side?

 

SYBIL:  Pardon?

 

KATHLEEN:  The toilet. The one on the right hand side. It’s clogged – you can’t use it. Or rather, you can use it, but you have to be careful. To flush it properly, that is. They’re supposed to get the plumber in, but they haven’t so far, and if you didn’t know, you might, you know, not flush it completely and –

 

SYBIL:  Yeah, okay, I get it. I’ll be careful.

 

KATHLEEN:  I didn’t mean that you might not be, it’s just because they didn’t tell you, you know, and I think you’d feel bad – I mean I know I would feel bad if I used it and, well, say it overflowed and –

 

SYBIL:  No problem, I understand.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Fidgets).  Goodness, you really do look like you’ve had a hard time!  And yet – you’re sitting up!  Don’t you want to lie down? Aren’t you cold?

 

SYBIL:  (Smiling again) No to both questions. I’m not cold at all. And I was lying down earlier while they put the casts on, so it feels good to be sitting up.

 

KATHLEEN: (Her curiosity getting the better of her) Were you in an accident?

 

SYBIL:  Yep. I was trying to screw a light fixture into a plaster ceiling and I’m just too clumsy for my own good –

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sits up in bed, though the effort to do so obviously tires her) Are you? I must say, you don’t look it! I myself – I’m just awfully uncoordinated!  My husband always used to say that if there was a thread on the floor, I’d manage to trip over it, I’m that clumsy. I walk into a room and knock things off the shelves, even when I’m trying not to! And in the kitchen – well I’m a terror! They have to run in ahead of me and turn the pot handles out of the way and move the jugs and cups away from the edge of the table and –  

 

SYBIL:  (Smiling, almost admiringly) You’re quite a talker, aren’t you?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Laughing nervously) Gosh, yes. I’m sorry, I am, I really am! People are always telling me that! I mean, I’m usually like this even when I’m not in the hospital, but I’ve been stuck in here for two weeks now and many of my friends work, you know, and visiting hours aren’t terribly convenient …and my son – he’s really good about coming, but he can’t be here all the time, after all and I –

 

SYBIL:  (Laughing)  Hey, it’s okay. What’re you in here for, anyway, if you don’t mind my asking?

KATHLEEN:  (Fidgeting)  Oh – nothing, really. It’s quite silly, actually. I’ve got a fever, and it just won’t go down. Dr Cavanah, she thinks it’s some kind of virus – nothing serious –  and I’ve just overdone it…(Frowning) Although how that can be I’m sure I don’t know, because I really don’t have much to do nowadays…But I have to have all these tests, and they really are tiresome. They aren’t the worst, though. The worst thing is the boredom. I mean, you can read, and you can watch television, but after a while… (Beginning to fidget again)

 

SYBIL:  Yeah, I can imagine. And I’ve just got here.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Suddenly looking aggrieved)  I really am sorry – (half contritely, half with exaggerated politeness) – I know I do go on –

 

SYBIL:  No –  I didn’t mean you. I meant, you know, the whole hospital thing. The smells, the noise, all the people, the nurses fussing and asking questions – I didn’t mean you.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Looking unhappy) I talk too much, I know I do.  It’s one of my worst traits, always has been.

 

SYBIL:  Really, I didn’t mean –

 

KATHLEEN:  (Bunches a pillow behind her and sits up in bed) I understand you didn’t. But really – I do talk too much. I just can’t stop myself! There are just so many things in my life right now that  – I just want to talk about it all! To someone who’ll listen. And – you’re young yet, so you won’t understand this – the older you get, whatever silly habits you have, whatever affectations and all – well, they just get worse!  I was a chatterbox when I was a child, and when I was your age too  –  and people, you know, they always thought it was cute. My husband, my friends – they all laughed and thought the way I went on was cute. But now I’m older and, well –  no one really listens to me anymore and no one – no one thinks  – (breaks down and begins to cry) – I’m sorry…I’m sorry…(Puts her head in her hands and begins to weep)

 

SYBIL:  (Looking uncomfortable)   Listen, I like people who talk. I’m not much of a talker myself, never have been. But – I like to listen, I really do. Please talk – go on! Really – I find it – distracting.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Still weeping, but making an effort to check it)  I’m so – sorry!  I’m not usually – quite this bad!  (Fumbling for Kleenex and blowing nose)  I think it’s just been, you know, what with being cooped up here and all, for all this time and – and on top of everything else, I can’t sleep. I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but after the change – well, it’s just gotten so much worse. I don’t think I get more than two or three hours anymore. They keep giving me these sleeping pills, but you know, I just hate taking them! So I’ve been…(Looking around a bit guiltily, she begins to whisper)…I’ve been taking them from the nurses but not –  you know, really taking them. I suppose I should… So I can get more than the odd cat nap…but I’ve never been someone to take pills, it’s always seemed too…too risky. Anyway, I have quite a little supply now. (She gestures guiltily at her bedside drawer and bites her lip furtively). Quite a little stash…

 

SYBIL:  Well, I know how stressed out you get when you can’t sleep. I’m an insomniac myself –

 

KATHLEEN:  (Brightening) Really? Are you? Well, then, you know how I feel! It’s just awful, isn’t it? You lie there and your mind just goes full blast, and you know if you try to read, that you won’t have any chance of sleeping at all – or at least it’s always been like that for me, anyway. You read, and then you get involved in what you’re reading, or you watch the telly and you get so engrossed in that –

 

SYBIL:  Yes, I know – you do. And the telly’s the worst, isn’t it? The news, for instance –

 

KATHLEEN:  Oh, don’t you just hate the news? I start watching the news and then I cannot sleep! After I’ve turned it off, I just lie there and the thoughts start coming, just creeping in – and I just feel so bad for all those people starving in Africa or the ones suffering from war –  and the people whose loved ones have been murdered or killed, and all those people who’ve lost their homes in the hurricanes and tsunamis and –

 

SYBIL:  (Nodding) And the earthquakes – that awful earthquake in Afghanistan –

 

KATHLEEN:  (Warming to the theme, animatedly) Yes, wasn’t that just awful!  I went down to Oxfam and donated money to their appeal straight away, but it didn’t make me feel a single bit better. I just kept thinking about that one little girl – the one whose entire family had been killed, and they saved her after – what was it – 48 hours? Can you imagine?

 

SYBIL:  I remember reading about that – she was the six-year-old buried under the rubble, wasn’t she?

 

KATHLEEN:  Yes, and all that time she was there, didn’t you just think how awful it must have been for her? I mean, a child! What could she do? Could she move at all? Was she calling out to people – she must have been, after all! Can you imagine a child having to go through something like that – trapped under all that rubble and all those people near her trapped too – and having to hear them –

 

SYBIL:  And her knowing that they couldn’t help her, which was what got me –

 

KATHLEEN:  Yes! And her knowing that. A child shouldn’t have to go through that. A child should feel secure, should feel that her parents can do anything for her, save her from monsters, or –  whatever (suddenly begins to weep again) Oh God, I’m so sorry! I’m not usually like this – honestly I’m not!

 

SYBIL:  (Sympathetically) Listen, don’t worry. I get weepy too. Especially about things like that, things you see on the telly. Disasters, killings…You just want to be able to do something to help people, don’t you? I know I do.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Disgusted with herself) This is awful!  I’m – I’m a cheerful person! I really am not like this all the time:  it’s just being here in the hospital with hardly any company! (Trying to regain composure) And here I am going on and on  – like I always do! – and there you are with a broken leg and arm and your head all bandaged! It must be terribly painful!

 

SYBIL:  (Breezily) Oh, I’m fine. Really!  (Lifting her plastered arm and staring at it objectively) It hurt at the time, sure, but like I said, it all looks a lot worse than it actually is! 

 

KATHLEEN:  (Spiritedly) I don’t believe you for a minute!

 

SYBIL:  Scout’s honour, I’m telling the truth –  they’ve given me all sorts of painkillers. I can’t even feel it anymore!

 

KATHLEEN:  Well then, you must have a very high pain threshold! I fractured my elbow once when I was trying to hand glide – it was my son’s fault, you know –  I didn’t want to go, but he just insisted! –  and I have to say that I have never been in such pain! It was just horrendous! Not even having a baby was worse than that!

 

SYBIL:  (Curiously) What’s that like, then?

 

KATHLEEN:  Mmm? I don’t know, because I never actually got the wretched thing up in the air. They put it on me – the contraption – and it was heavy! I hadn’t realized it would be that heavy! And I started running just like they told me to do, and I just fell – face forwards –  with the accursed thing on me, and when I put out my hands to stop myself, I broke my elbow just like that –

 

SYBIL:  (Looking momentarily confused, then relieved)  Actually, I didn’t mean hand gliding, I meant having a baby.

 

KATHLEEN:  Oh!  Having a baby – well!  It’s hard to describe the pain, in a way. I think the only way…well, the best way I can think of to describe it – (looking troubled, beginning to speak in a loud whisper) – it’s rather rude, really.

 

SYBIL:  (Obviously interested) Go on, tell me!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Looking embarrassed, she glances around quickly, then turns back to SYBIL  and takes a deep breath)  It’s – well – you know what – what an orgasm feels like, obviously – (Blushing furiously) –

 

SYBIL:  (Amused) Yes, I do. Fortunately.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Trying to regain composure) Well, if you can imagine an – well, an orgasm – being painful – and going on for, well, hours –

 

SYBIL:  Claps her good hand over her mouth, obviously impressed.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Nodding emphatically and warming to her theme) Yes, really, that’s exactly what it’s like. A painful orgasm that comes and goes, each time getting longer and worse, with breaks in between at first, but then the breaks get shorter and shorter and the sweat just pours off you and – it’s pretty awful, really – you make these animal sounds – and you have almost no control over yourself, what you say, what you do – until pretty soon there are no breaks between the pains at all and it’s just nothing but pain. Well, agony, actually, rather than pain –  and you feel quite wild. Quite – determined to get the baby out of you.

 

SYBIL:  God, that sounds awful! 

 

KATHLEEN:  Well, it is awful, in a way. But –(her whole face changing, lightening up) well, there’s nothing like having a baby! Nothing!

 

SYBIL:  (Laughing) Well, I’ll never have one – that’s for sure!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Looking shocked and mildly upset) Oh, but you must!  I mean – unless you don’t like children at all – but surely you do, don’t you? Like children, I mean?

 

SYBIL:  Oh, I think kids are great, that isn’t the problem. But having them – all the pain and fuss!  No, no way. That’s not for me!

 

KATHLEEN:  (With determination) Well, of course it isn’t for me to say, but I can’t help thinking you’re making a big mistake.

 

SYBIL:  (Amused) Why? I mean – childbirth, first of all – ouch!  And then raising a kid, all the temper tantrums, the mess, and then they fight you and they’re ungrateful – I know I was like that with my mum –

 

KATHLEEN:  Well, we all fight with our parents – uh  – (looking a little puzzled) Sorry  – what’s your name? We’ve been talking all this time and I don’t even know your –

 

SYBIL:  Sybil.

 

KATHLEEN:  Sybil – That’s a nice name! And one you hardly ever hear any more either. I have an aunt by that name! – I’m Kathleen, by the way.

 

SYBIL:  So, what were you saying about parents and children?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Starts to answer, but is interrupted as GROUCHY NURSE suddenly peeks into the room)

GROUCHY NURSE:  (Addressing KATHLEEN in a hoarse whisper) Mrs Ivey, you ought to be asleep!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Embarrassed and flustered) Sorry!

 

GROUCHY:  We can hear you half the way to the nurses’ station, you know.

KATHLEEN:  Oh, I am sorry! We were just – (GROUCHY NURSE rolls her eyes and exits)

SYBIL:  What a bitch!

 

KATHLEEN:  Well, she has a tough job. Bedpans, you know, and people who are… well, not at their best. It must be awful having to deal with sick people all day long.

 

SYBIL:  She could be a little nicer, though.  I mean, we are in the hospital, after all, and it’s her job!

 

KATHLEEN:  She could nicer, that’s true. But then it’s probably true of all of us, isn’t it, more or less? Sometimes just doing that – just being kind even when we don’t feel like it –  seems to be a tall order for all of us.

 

SYBIL:  Mmmm. But what were you saying earlier, about parents and children?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Trying to recall)  Oh – it’s just that we’re all of us hard on our parents, you know, we all fight them and struggle against their rules and their plans for us, the way they want us to be. It’s a cliché, I know, that business about having to learn to break away from your parents, be your own person and all of that – but we all have to do it. I know I did, and my son – well! He certainly did.

 

SYBIL:  How old is your son?

 

KATHLEEN:  Well, he’s about your age, I should think. Twenty-seven. And he’s gay, if you please, so there go my chances of having any grandchildren! (Laughs)

 

SYBIL:  (Smiling again) Well, maybe he’ll adopt.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Looking disgruntled) Adopt! Well, yes, he and his partner talk about that from time to time – about adopting when they’re ‘ready!’ But you know, I can’t see that they ever will be. Ready, that is. Honestly! And it’s nothing at all to do with their being gay, and everything to do with their being – well, fastidious.  Selfish, even.  

 

SYBIL:  (Curiously) How so?

 

KATHLEEN:  Well, they’re both just so – so tidy, for one thing! Goodness knows I was never like that when he was growing up! You go into their house, and you cannot put down a cup, a newspaper, your bag – anything! – without feeling like you’re cluttering up the room. It’s just – their house is – (with a little moue of distaste) –  so pristine! Benjamin takes after my mother, really. She was like that:  house proud! Everything so neat and tidy – and scrubbed antiseptically clean. Just too clean!

 

SYBIL:  Yeah, I see what you’re saying. But you never know, maybe they’ll change…

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sighing) Well, I doubt it. Every time I go over there I feel that I’m leaving a trail of crumbs. When I’m saying goodbye, I have this feeling they’re just waiting to rush around with a whisk broom and a pan and tidy up after me!  Pick up bits of food and hair and –  the lint that’s fallen off my clothes, even!  And they like their luxuries, their pleasures. Their glossy, posh magazines, their good furniture, their dinners out at fancy restaurants – the money they spend on one meal! Or even on just a cup of coffee! (shaking her head in disapproval)  – and their stereo! I won’t tell you what that cost! Can you see two people like that having a baby?  I can’t!

 

SYBIL:  No, maybe not. But then, I don’t think children are for everyone.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sighing)  Maybe they’re not, but – oh, I really did want grandchildren! I know that must sound silly, but when Benjamin was little, I was so busy with him and trying to keep the house clean and all – and we ran our own business too, and my husband was no good at all in the house, couldn’t do a thing. So I was frantic half the time, waking up to feed the baby, changing him, trying to get everything done during the day when he was asleep. So I never had any time for me, but worse than that – I never had any time to enjoy him! I always thought to myself that I’d just have to wait until I had grandchildren, so I could enjoy them. I could never really relax and enjoy my own baby. It was just work, work, work, and then John was home and wanting his dinner –  (She stops suddenly as SYBIL has let out a snort of disgust)

 

SYBIL:  Sorry, but your husband sounds like a prize asshole!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Looking a little amused, a little ashamed.) Well, yes, he was that. But it gets worse, I’m afraid. He was traditional, you see, he’d never known a different way to be!  But – I was to blame too, in a way. Because I’d never known a different way to be either, so I let him get away with it, I suppose. What is it they call people who do that? Benjamin’s always telling me… (Stops and thinks)  An enabler. That’s what I was:  an enabler. So John – that was my husband – he’d come home from the business and the baby’d be crying and I’d be rushing around trying to get things nice for him, and he would never see what I had done, only what I hadn’t done. Which was quite a bit! Having a baby is a lot of work!  And my friends at the time – well they used to tell me I should just tell him to – well, you know, tell him how busy I’d been, and get him to do a little around the house himself once in a while! But I would feel so guilty when the dinner wasn’t ready, when the washing was all over the house or the floor wasn’t hoovered!  And it wasn’t like I’d been sitting around the house all day long doing my nails or reading magazines – not at all!  (She is quiet for a while, lost in memories)

 

SYBIL:  (Prompting gently)  So, he’d come home and want his tea –

 

KATHLEEN:  (Awakening from her reverie) Yes, he’d want his tea and he’d be awfully upset with me when he saw the state of the house, heard the baby crying. (Smiling ruefully, affecting deep masculine voice):  ‘Can’t you shut that wean up?’

 

SYBIL: (Incensed) Didn’t you ever lose your temper?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Reflectively) Well, I can’t say that I did, actually, no. Perhaps because I just don’t get angry easily, but also perhaps because I really am a terrible coward.  I did cry sometimes – and that made him angry! He’d stomp right out of the room! (Affecting angry scowl and hunching her shoulders, as she sits up in bed, then sighing, and settling back down)

 

SYBIL:  Well, you’re a better woman than I am! I’d have belted him one! Or taken the baby and walked right out the door, let him get his own tea!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Resignedly) Sometimes I wish I had. I would have, I know. It was quickly coming to a head, really, the way it was going. But as it turned out, he was the one who walked right out on me.

 

SYBIL:  Good riddance!

 

KATHLEEN:  Yes, good riddance. I know that now, but I have to say, it didn’t feel like it at the time! Not entirely, at any rate. It was a relief on one hand, but on the other, well, I was just full of qualms!  Benjamin was just turning nine, and I – I’d never worked, you see – out of the house work, I mean – not once, not a day in my life!  So it was a big shock, a big change for me. Mind you, I know Benjamin was better off without him, because John was awfully hard on him. (Biting her lip and frowning)

 

SYBIL:  But surely you got support from him – child support and an allowance for yourself, from the divorce settlement!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Obviously uncomfortable) Well, you know, I didn’t really care all that much about it. The business and all – I’d had very little to do with it, you see. My friends were just disgusted with me at the time – wanted me to get a proper solicitor to see that I got a better settlement. Because it was John who’d had the affair, who wanted out of the marriage, you see…

 

SYBIL:  (Agitated) So he leaves you and you end up having to go out to work to raise your son?

 

KATHLEEN: (Flustered) Well, he did contribute some to Benjamin’s upbringing! And in a way, it was wonderful to go out to work – such a liberating experience for me, a real eye opener! I’d never been out in the work force, after all! I took a training course to learn how to do audio typing, and got work straight away. I didn’t make a lot of money, but it was fun!  (Suddenly looks embarrassed) But here I am chattering away about myself and you haven’t told me anything about you!

 

SYBIL:  (Smiling) Well, there’s not all that much to tell. I graduated from tech, and I’m working part-time now – or I was before this – (lifting her plaster-casted arm and smiling ruefully) – and I’ve been doing a lot of DIY recently… But your son  – how did he cope with his father leaving?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Happily) Well, you know – I thought it would be hard on him at first. I had this silly idea that a boy needs a man about the house – and all that. But John was always so hard on Benjamin. Because Benjamin was different – he always knew that he was gay, you see, right from the start, and I think John – well, I think he knew too. But he was just determined that Benjamin was going to do all these manly things: shoot guns! Watch pro-wrestling! And honestly, Benjamin couldn’t have cared less about any of it and it was just terrible to watch the two of them together. John would be so – so belligerent, really, such a bully. And Benjamin would just close up. Then after John left us, well, Benjamin just went from strength to strength. Top boy in his class! He won prizes at school for his poetry and his art – I have some of his paintings up in my front room, they’re that good. (She sighs proudly)  And it was funny, too: after his father left, Benjamin decided he wanted a black belt in karate! And – I couldn’t have imagined this happening when his father was around – but he was really determined, Benjamin – he went to martial art classes on his own and really persevered – and he got it! Here his father had been pushing him to be manly, yelling at him, always bullying him, and it’d had no effect on him at all…but then he left us, and that was when Benjamin decided to go out and do something like that on his own. I cannot tell you how proud I was, the day he came back and he had that black belt…(smiling, shaking her head)  It really is a wonderful thing, you know, having a child! Watching someone’s personality unfold, leaf by leaf, petal by petal, like a flower…  I hate to think that I’ve put you off having a baby yourself by telling you about the pain – the pain is nothing, you know – you forget it, everyone does! You’re young yet, and you really shouldn’t just decide that you’re not going to do it! Just because I’ve told you about childbirth and all –

 

SYBIL:  (With spirit) Believe me, you couldn’t have said anything to make me want to have a baby!  I’ve never really thought I was parenting material. I just – I’ve always wondered what it felt like –  giving birth. You know, to give someone life. That must be – wonderful. Satisfying.  And I can see how you’d feel – you know, if you didn’t manage to do that in your lifetime – to bring a new life into the world – that you’d missed something in life. I can see how having a baby would be – fulfilling, I suppose…

 

KATHLEEN:  (Warmly) Oh it is!  It really is!  I have to say, it is the most wonderful feeling in the world. You look down on that tiny face and you think: I’ve done this! I’ve given this wonderful creature life! I can’t do it justice, really, describing that –  (Suddenly bursts into tears again) Gosh, I’m sorry! Really, I don’t know what’s gotten into me!

 

SYBIL:  You’re sleepy, that’s what it is. You need some sleep. I always get weepy when I’m tired. My mother was like that, too, I remember. When I was a kid, especially. She never actually cried, but when she was sleepy, she’d get pretty close to it.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Interested)  Does she – are you close to her?

 

SYBIL:  (Quietly) She’s been dead now for – let’s see – seven years.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sympathetically) Oh, I am sorry! You must miss her!

 

SYBIL:  Well, yeah, there are times I do, but…it sounds terrible, but we just never got on. She was a single parent too – my Dad walked out on us too, and he was kind of violent, like your husband. But after he left, my Mum and I had some right old rows, the two of us. I was hard on her, I know. Like you were saying – I guess I struggled against what she wanted for me. And I never realized – being young and callous and all – I never realized how much she hurt, the things she was going through. I just knew that she got in my way, cramped my style. But if I could do anything over in life, I’d be kinder to her. She’s gone – so I can’t – but sometimes I think about that. Sometimes I kind of like to –  you know, imagine that she’s still around and I’m – I don’t know – treating her kindly, getting on with her. Showing her I love her.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Nodding) I’ve done that too. My mother died when Benjamin was seven. And I used to have long conversations – pretend ones, you know –  with her when Benjamin was a teenager and giving me a hard time! And I would tell her I knew how she must have felt when I was a teenager!

 

SYBIL:  (Laughing) Gee, I’ll never be a parent, so I’ll never be able to do that!

 

KATHLEEN:  (Seriously) You know – when you become a parent, you’re connected to the world around you in a way that you’ve never been. It’s hard to explain, really. You’re in this big club, suddenly, the parents’ club. You start to understand things your parents said and did, things you used to think were daft.  I think you can empathize with your parents even if you don’t have children, though. Having children helps, but I still think you can do it –  if you just try – really try –  (begins to cry again, despite herself, then begins to laugh too) Oh honestly, this is just ridiculous! I never used to be like this, I never used to cry all the time!

 

SYBIL:  It’s not ridiculous to cry. What’s wrong with crying? It’s a way of letting off steam, of – releasing. My mother had this thing about showing feelings. Mustn’t grumble, stiff upper lip, get hold of yourself.  I’d start to blubber and she’d just walk out of the room. Later I found out that her own mother had beaten her when she cried, so she’d learned not to. She never beat me for crying – she’d come that far – but she just couldn’t handle tears. Hers or anyone else’s. She couldn’t even watch someone crying on telly, that’s how bad it was.

 

KATHLEEN: (Smiling and wiping her eyes) I don’t know which one of you to feel sorrier for!

 

SYBIL:  Mmm. The very last time I saw her – the week before she died, when I was going off to tech – she tried to hug me. And I backed away from her, ‘cause it seemed so weird, her trying to – to give me a hug. I still remember that.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sympathetically)  Well, you weren’t to know that it was the last time you’d see her, were you?  The last time I saw my mother alive, I remember we quarrelled because she’d dropped her glasses behind one of the sofa cushions in my house. When she reached for them, she came up with quite a lot more than her glasses – lint and crisp packets and pens and used toothpicks and telly controls – and she gave me such a talking-to about the state of my housekeeping!  And really, that was the least of my worries at the time, and I just couldn’t get over the fact that she was worried about how often I hoovered and how cluttered the fridge was, and she didn’t seem to notice that Benjamin and I had bruises on our faces…but for her, you know, the way you kept your house, how clean your oven was – those were things that distinguished you from the riff raff. She’d grown up in poverty, you see – her father was a miner, and not a well-off one at that – and yet her stove was shining clean!  You could eat off her floors!  It was the way she showed the world that she was better than she looked, a cut above what she seemed to be.

 

SYBIL:  (Curiously) Did you manage to patch things up, then? Before she died?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sighing)  No, no we didn’t. She felt that I had really let her down, having such a messy sofa. Such a cluttered fridge. And I felt – well, I felt as though she didn’t have a clue, of course, about me, about what was wrong with my life –  

 

SYBIL: (Unable to contain herself) Well, she didn’t!

 

 KATHLEEN:  (Laughing ruefully) We were so different. She grew up so poor, you see, and when I came along, she and my father were actually quite well off. So she’d known poverty, whereas I never really did… But she was so rigid, so – house proud! And even though she had been so poor as a child, she was terribly class-conscious. Always judging people by their clothes, the jobs they did, what cars they owned. I resented her hypocrisy so much  – but she still had feelings, you know, and I just – well I stomped all over them. I can see it now, but I couldn’t see it then. When I grew up and left home, she got fanatical about house-cleaning. She’d always been ultra-tidy, but she got just…well, crazed. Everything had to be just so! And she had a little dog and she just lavished attention on it.. . Now I can look back and see that she must have felt just like I do now – worthless.  Absolutely… superfluous. That little dog of hers, that was her way of trying to be useful. You know, you’re someone’s daughter and you’re the centre of your parents’ world. Then you’re someone’s girlfriend, and they think what you do is special, what you say is cute, funny, worth listening to. Then you’re someone’s mother and they’re always needing you, always after you –  mummy this, mummy that – you’re too busy to really appreciate it most of the time, but you know you’re special because they tell you every day, in so many ways. That you’re needed, that you’re –  essential. Then all of a sudden – poof! It’s gone, you’re on your own.  Nobody thinks you’re anything but – but a tired old woman. That’s all. You’re not interesting anymore, no one wants your opinion or to hear what you have to say. They just look at you and think they know you, know what you’re all about. Without even talking to you. And you wonder – well I wonder – what I’m still here for. (Growing very quiet, but  not – for a change – crying)

 

SYBIL:  I’m interested in what you have to say! 

 

KATHLEEN:  (Smiling gratefully) You know, you really are an angel to listen to me prattling on like this! 

 

SYBIL:  If you’d had your sleep, you wouldn’t feel so bad, you know.

 

KATHLEEN:  Yes, that’s probably part of it. I must say – it’s awfully nice to be able to talk to someone after all this time!  I don’t believe I’ve ever – I mean, I don’t really talk about Benjamin’s childhood or my marriage. I don’t know why – God knows I talk about everything else –  but I’ve found that very painful to talk about.

 

SYBIL:  Do you talk about it with Benjamin?

 

KATHLEEN:  Oh, for him the past is the past!  He remembers that things weren’t good when his father was around, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it. I can’t say I blame him, really.  I think that’s a good thing. I know he went to therapy over it for a while, but he got himself sorted and he’s – well, he’s fine. It’s not as though he actively tries to screen it out – he’s just worked his way through it and he wants to move on. And I respect that, really. I find it admirable. He had such a hard time when he was little!  John would beat him –  a lot, you know. I tried to stop it – I did manage to stop it from time to time – and he beat me too, you know – but the bullying! –  that I could never stop. When you live with someone who’s a bully, it’s not that easy, keeping them away from the weaker people, keeping them sweet. You tie yourself in knots all the time trying to keep everyone happy, or away from each other. It’s an awful strain.

 

SYBIL:  (Nodding sympathetically)  I remember my Mum and Dad, so I can imagine how hard it must have been for you.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Reflectively)  Every meal, every excursion, every conversation, every single interaction – you feel you have to have to monitor them all the time! You are constantly on the look-out for phrases or behaviour that will make the bully turn violent – (fervently) oh, I’m so glad that’s all behind me!

 

SYBIL:  You know what you should do?

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sleepily) Mmm?

 

SYBIL:  Well, you know how they have those shelters for battered women? Who’ve left their husbands?

 

KATHLEEN:  Yes?

 

SYBIL:  Well, this is just an idea, but if you ever have the time, you could volunteer in one of them. Because – you know what it’s like. Having been through it yourself. You could talk to the women who are going through what you went through and show them that there’s – you know, a light at the end of the tunnel. A better way to live. And they couldn’t look at you and say, ‘What do you know? You’ve never been through what I’ve been through?’ Because you have.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Thoughtfully)  You know, that’s a good idea. (Smiles) A very good idea, really. I’ve never really thought about that, but – yes, that’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll look into that...

 

SYBIL:  What you’ve done – you know, raising your son and all, under the circumstances – that’s a real achievement.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Sleepily)  I suppose it is.

 

SYBIL:  (With determination)  There’s no supposing about it, Kathleen – it is!  You should be proud of it. I’m not a mother, but I’ve always thought that – it’s not just giving the gift of life to someone, you know, but it’s making sure that the life they have is a good one. That they’re happy, that they feel wanted. Needed. Loved.

 

KATHLEEN:  (Obviously falling asleep)  You’re right, really. You’re quite right…and… you really are an angel… (Falls asleep)

 

(Both beds are still well lit.  SYBIL remains sitting on her bed for a few moments, watching KATHLEEN settle into sleep, then gets up and tiptoes over to KATHLEEN’S bed, the light following her all the way, and stands there for a moment.  She opens KATHLEEN’S bedside drawer, rummages around until she finds a small plastic bag full of pills, walks over to the sink and drops them, one by one, into it. There are about twenty pills in all. She stands and watches KATHLEEN for a few moments, then quietly walks toward the door.  As she makes her way to the door, the light follows her all the way, growing dimmer all the time until, just as she exits, she is in almost total darkness. The spotlight remains on KATHLEEN, who continues to sleep.   GROUCHY NURSE and KINDLY NURSE enter room shortly after SYBIL exits. They stand at the foot of KATHLEEN’S bed, and KINDLY NURSE picks up her chart and leafs through it.

 

GROUCHY NURSE:  (Gesturing rudely at KATHLEEN) This one can’t half natter away to herself. Yak-yak-yak!

 

KINDLY NURSE:  (Taking KATHLEEN’S blood pressure)  She’s just lonely.

 

GROUCHY NURSE:  Good thing she’s got the room to herself for a change, she’d bore someone else to death yakking away.

 

KINDLY NURSE:  (Sighs, then changes the subject) Lord, what a night.

 

GROUCHY NURSE:  (Conspiratorially) Do they know what happened yet?

 

KINDLY NURSE:  They aren’t 100% sure, but they reckon she had some sort of allergic reaction to the anesthetic.

 

GROUCHY NURSE:  (Greedily)  So how did she fall in the first place? What was she on?

 

KINDLY NURSE:  (Sighing)  She wasn’t ‘on’ anything, she was perfectly sober. Well, in fact, she was on a ladder. She was helping her flatmate screw a light fixture into a ceiling. Only it was one of those really high Victorian ceilings, so she fell a long ways…

 

GROUCHY NURSE:  (Cheerfully appalled) God!  So she survives the fall and then dies from an allergic reaction to a drug. Like they say:  life’s a bitch and then you die. (Laughs grimly)

 

KINDLY NURSE:  (Puts KATHLEEN’S chart back after noting something in it) Well, at least this one’s finally getting some sleep – she’s out like a light! And that’s the lowest her blood pressure’s been since she was admitted, too! (Smiling)  Our Kathleen is on the mend! Be grateful for small mercies.

 

GROUCHY NURSE:  (Turns to look at KATHLEEN as she exits with KINDLY NURSE) Yeah, small mercies.  Yak yak yak…(breaking into laughter which fades out as the two nurses exit)

 

                    

 

---------------