Read Brian Friel Plays 1 Online

Authors: Brian Friel

Brian Friel Plays 1 (20 page)

(
He
disappears.
The
PRESSMEN
hurry
off.
MICHAEL
gets
to
his feet.
)

MICHAEL
:
It was a big turn-out, wasn’t it?

LILY
:
Terrible big.

MICHAEL
:
And the speeches were good, too.

LILY
:
I don’t care much for speeches. Isn’t that a shocking thing to say? I can’t concentrate – you know?

MICHAEL
:
They’ll never learn, you know; never. All they had to do was sit back nice and quiet; let the speeches be made; let the crowd go home. There wouldn’t be no trouble of any kind. But they have to bull in. And d’you know what they’re doing? As a matter of fact they’re doing two things: they’re bringing more and more people out on the streets – that’s fine; but they’re also giving the hooligan element an excuse to retaliate – and that’s where the danger lies.

LILY
:
(
To
SKINNER
) It’s a hot whiskey you should be drinking.

MICHAEL
:
I’ve been on every civil rights march from the very beginning – right from October 5th. And I can tell you there wasn’t the thousands then that there was the day. I’ve even went on civil rights marches that I was far from satisfied about the people that was running them; for as you know as well as me there’s a lot of strange characters knuckled in on the act that didn’t give a shite about real civil rights – if you’ll excuse me, Missus.

LILY
:
Port wine’s gorgeous.

MICHAEL
:
But as I say to Norah, the main thing is to keep a united front. The ultimate objectives we’re all striving for is more important than the personalities or the politics of the individuals concerned.

SKINNER
:
At this point in time.

MICHAEL
:
What’s that?

SKINNER
:
And taking full cognizance of all relative facts.

MICHAEL
:
What d’you mean?

LILY
:
Who’s Norah, young fella?

MICHAEL
:
The girl I’m engaged to.

LILY
:
(
To
SKINNER
) Ah! He’s engaged.

(
SKINNER
raises
his
glass.
)

LILY
:
Congratulations.

MICHAEL
:
Thanks.

LILY
:
I wish you health, wealth and every happiness, young fella, and may no burden come your way that you’re not fit to carry.

MICHAEL
:
Thank you.

LILY
:
When are you getting married?

MICHAEL
:
Easter.

LILY
:
(
To
SKINNER
) Easter! I was married at Easter – April 3rd – my seventeenth birthday. And we spent our honeymoon with the chairman’s Auntie Maggie and Uncle Ned in Preston, Lancashire, England, and we seen the docks and everything.

MICHAEL
:
We’re getting married on Easter Tuesday.

LILY
:
And where will you live?

MICHAEL
:
We’ll live with my people till we get a place of our own.

LILY
:
(
To
SKINNER
) A place of their own!

SKINNER
:
Leely, the language I speak a leetle too – yes?

LILY
:
Norah’s a nice name. If the chairman had have had his way, we’d have had a Norah. But I always favoured a Noelle. She’s fourteen now. Between Tom and the twins. Born on a roasting August bank holiday Monday at 3.20 in the afternoon but I called her Noelle all the same.

MICHAEL
:
(
To
SKINNER
) How many would you say was there today?

SKINNER
:
No idea.

MICHAEL
:
Six thousand? More?

(
SKINNER
shrugs
indifferently.
Rises
and
goes
to
the
window
where
he
looks
out.
LILY
takes
off
her
shoes.
)

MICHAEL
:
I’m getting pretty accurate at assessing a crowd and my estimate would be between six and six and a half. When the ones at the front were down at the Brandywell, the last of them were leaving the Creggan. I could see both ways ’cos I was in the middle. And the hooligan element kept well out of the way. It was a good, disciplined, responsible march. And that’s what we must show them – that we’re responsible and respectable; and they’ll come to respect
what we’re campaigning for.

LILY
:
D’you see them shoes? Five pounds in Woolworth’s and never a day’s content since I got them.

MICHAEL
:
Do you go on all the marches, Lily?

LILY
:
Most of them, It’s the only exercise I get.

MICHAEL
:
Do you have the feeling they’re not as – I don’t know – as dignified as they used to be? Like, d’you remember in the early days, they wouldn’t let you carry a placard – wouldn’t even let you talk, for God’s sake. And that was really impressive – all those people marching along in silence, rich and poor, high and low, doctors, accountants, plumbers, teachers, bricklayers – all shoulder to shoulder – knowing that what they wanted was their rights and knowing that because it was their rights nothing in the world was going to stop them getting them.

SKINNER
:
Shite – if you’ll excuse me, Missus. Who’s for more municipal booze?

(
He
refills
his
own
glass
and
LILY

s
.)

MICHAEL
:
What do you mean?

LILY
:
That’s enough. Easy – easy.

SKINNER
:
It’s coming off a fine broad back. Another whiskey, Mr Hegarty?

MICHAEL
:
Are you for civil rights at all?

SKINNER
:
Course I am. I’m crazy about them. A little drop?

MICHAEL
:
Not for me.

SKINNER
:
Just a nip?

MICHAEL
:
I’m finished.

SKINNER
:
Have a cigar.

MICHAEL
:
No.

SKINNER
:
A cigarette, then.

MICHAEL
:
No.

SKINNER
:
Or what about a shower under the golden fish?

(
LILY
gives
a
great
whoop
of
laughter.
)

LILY
:
Haaaaa! A shower! God but you’re a comic, young fella.

(
SKINNER
lights
a
cigar
and
carries
his
glass
to
the
phone.
)

MICHAEL
:
I see nothing funny in that.

LILY
:
D’you see if it was a Sunday I’d take a shower myself. Sunday’s my day. We all have our days for bathing over at the granny’s – that’s the chairman’s mother. She has us all up on a time-table on the kitchen wall, and if you miss your night you lose your turn.

SKINNER
:
(
Phone
) Hello? Could you tell me what won the 3.30?

LILY
:
(To
MICHAEL
) D’you see the granny, young fella? Seventy-seven years of age. Lives alone. Supple as an aul cat. Her own teeth, her own eyes. And she still does twenty houses a week – you know – cleaning them down; and me that could be her daughter, I can never manage more nor fifteen.

(
SKINNER
hangs
up.
)

SKINNER
:
Bingo Mistress at eights. Which leaves me slightly ahead of the millionaire bookie.

LILY
:
I’d know by the look of you.

(
SKINNER
dials
again
.
LILY
continues
to
MICHAEL
.)

LILY
:
Most of them she’s been doing for years, and they think the world of her; you know – dentists and solicitors and doctors and all. Very swanky. And the wanes in them houses – they visit her and all – they have a sort of pet name on her – they call her Auntie Dodie. Wouldn’t it make you puke? I’ll tell you something, young fella: them class of people’s a very poor judge of character.

SKINNER
:
(
Phone
) Jackie? Yes, it’s me. No, as a matter of fact I’m stripped to the waist and drinking brandy in the Mayor’s parlour. (
To
LILY
and
MICHAEL
) He’s killing himself laughing! (
Into
phone
) Look, Jack, would you put half-a-note on Bunny Rabbit in the 4.30? Decent man. See you tonight. Bye.

LILY
:
I’m glad you’ve a nice cushy career.

SKINNER
:
It’s not all sunshine, Lily.

LILY
:
D’you bet heavy?

SKINNER
:
When I have it.

LILY
:
That’ll be often. What do they call you, young fella?

SKINNER
:
Skinner.

LILY
:
Mr Skinner or Skinner what?

SKINNER
:
Just Skinner.

LILY
:
Would you be anything to Paddy Skinner that used to keep the goats behind the Mormon chapel?

SKINNER
:
Both my parents died when I was a baby. I was reared by an aunt. Next question?

LILY
:
Lord, I’m
sorry, son. (
To
MICHAEL
) Both his parents! Shocking. ‘Life is not a bed of roses. Sorrow is our daily lot.’ (
Suddenly
bright
)
But I’ll bet you’re musical like all the others.

SKINNER
:
Who?

LILY
:
Sure it’s well known that all wee orphans is always musical. Orphans can play instruments before they can talk. There was the poor wee Mulherns opposite us – the father and mother both submitted to TB within three days of other – and when you’d pass that house at night – the music coming out of it – honest to God you’d think it was the Palais de Danse. And sure look at the Nazareth House Ceilidhe Band – thumping away at concerts all over the world – trained armies couldn’t stop them. Sure the poor nuns can’t get quiet to say their prayers.

(
SKINNER
turns
on
the
radio.
)

SKINNER
:
I can play the radio, Lily.

(
Waltz
music
on
the
radio.
)

LILY
:
What’s that?

SKINNER
:
Four ways – loud and soft and off and on. Can you?

LILY
:
Oh, you’re great.

SKINNER
:
And I play the horses and the dogs.

LILY
:
You’re brilliant.

SKINNER
:
Thanks.

LILY
:
Are you working?

SKINNER
:
No.

LILY
:
Did you ever work?

SKINNER
:
For a while when I was at grammar school – before they kicked me out.

LILY
:
What did you ever do since?

SKINNER
:
Three years ago I did some potato picking.

LILY
:
(
To
MICHAEL
) He has a long memory.

SKINNER
:
And last August I was a conductor on the buses.

LILY
:
But travel didn’t agree with you.

SKINNER
:
Listen, Lily – isn’t that the BBC Orphans’ Orchestra?

LILY
:
I’ll tell you something – you never had to study glibness. Oh, nothing sharpens the wits like idleness. (
To
MICHAEL
.) You stick to your books, son. That’s what I say to our boys.

SKINNER
:
I’ll bet you the chairman’s glib, Lily.

LILY
:
The chairman never worked on account of his health.

(
SKINNER
sings
with
the
radio
and
does
a
parody-waltz
off
and
into
the
dressing-room.
)

SKINNER
:
1 – 2 – 3; 1 – 2 – 3; 1 – 2 – 3; 1 – 2 – 3.

LILY
:
(
Calls
) And he has more brains than you and a dozen like you put together! Brat! Put that thing out!

Other books

For the Sub by Sierra Cartwright
The Three Most Wanted by Corinna Turner
The First Tribe by Candace Smith
Trickster's Choice by Tamora Pierce
Chosen by Chandra Hoffman


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024