[A HUSBAND AND WIFE AT HOME IN THE EVENING] [SHES COOKING. ROOTED TO THE SPOT]. HUSBAND: [ENTERS, HANGS COAT, KISSES HER, SITS AT TABLE] GOOD DAY? [ALWAYS PAUSES AFTER EACH LINE TO ALLOW SPACE FOR A RESPONSE THAT NEVER COMES] SHIT. JUST SHIT. [OPENS PAPER AND SIMULTANEOUSLY GRABS BREAD AND BUTTER THAT IS ALREADY ON THE TABLE] NOT REALLY PASTA? I MIGHT HAVE PASTA. FUCK ME, WHAT A DAY. [HE READS FOR A BIT, SHE COOKS FOR A BIT] HAS THE DOG BEEN OUT FOR A SHIT? [EVENTUALLY] SO WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY? [SHE IS FOCUSED ON THE SINK] NOTHING? YOU CANT HAVE DONE NOTHING. YOU MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING. DID YOU RING YOUR MUM? DID YOUR MUM RING YOU. ANYTHING GOOD ON TELLY? YOU'LL BE DOING YOUR EXERCISE I SUPPOSE? I MIGHT WATCH THE FOOTBALL OKAY? PROBABLY BE SHIT. [THEIR EYES NEVER MEET]
Scene 2: Shoot. [Its is now the following spring but it is not in the air. Same tree. They are sitting on a blanket post picnic] He: I think he’s got your eyes. She: He hasn’t, he’s got my dads. [They are both transfixed by the baby’s face. She hold him in a vice like grip and bounces him up and down in a display of playfulness]. He: I think he likes it when you do that. She: My mum does it. I wonder if it doesn’t make him sick. [She underlines the fact by immediately stopping and wiping his face in earnest] He: Steady on! You’ll wipe his face off! She: I will not. [She fasten’s all the babies buttons] He: …I think you’re a great mother. She: We better get him home its not actually that warm. [She marches off] He: [to his wife's imaginary audience] Lets clean up this mess
Wooden. SCENE 1: Seed [A young couple are lying beneath a large oak tree on a summer’s day dripping with sex] He: You know you can tell the age of a tree by the rings? She: Is that your idea of pillow talk? He: No it’s true. She: So this ones fucking old and I’m not getting any younger… now kiss me, tell me I’m beautiful and so on… He: Look at the ants. They’re attending to the queen. [He just likes nature and he thinks it’s charming]. She: Mmm, mmm. Jesus you know how to make a girl feel wanted. Attend! [Passing distractions pass and he does indeed turn to her with the biggest smile]. He: I love you… She: Yeah yeah… [Enough clothes are removed and loosened] He: No I do! She: I know you do. He: I think you’re very beautiful. She: Ha! [He stops sharply and goes as far as sitting up] He: What’s wrong with you? She: Sorry? He: Why can’t you just enjoy it? She: I am! I was… He: And there you go switching it to me. She: [switching it to him] That’s not very nice. He: It’s just us here you know? She: [in a very good act of not comprehending] What? He: [shaking a little, aware he’s pushing a truth] There’s no audience. [She laughs, crushing his tiny heart] She: Okay, okay. [With an inappropriate level of enthusiasm] Do you want to carry on? Come on! [Like rousing a losing cricket team]. He: [resigned] Okay. [They make love with a reasonable level of enjoyment and awkwardly slog their way to satisfaction].
Hilary Paterson-Jones
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Hilary Paterson-Jones
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