Thread: Eating Christmas Dinner

Eating Christmas Dinner (6,341 Words)

EVENING

{SCENE OPENS INSIDE DAVES FLAT. THE FLAT IS ON THE LEFT OF THE STAGE AND ON THE RIGHT ARE TWO LEVELS OF A STAIRWELL. THE TOP LEVEL GOES INTO DAVES FLAT. IN THE KITCHEN THERE ARE STEPS LEADING UPWARDS TO THE DOOR LEADING OUT TO THE STAIRWELL. THE KITCHEN IS BARE EXCEPT A TABLE, CHAIR, A CLOCK AND A WINDOW. IT IS SNOWING OUTSIDE THE WINDOW. DAVE IS A CRACK/HEROIN DEALER. DAVE IS PREPARING WRAPS OF DRUGS. WITH HIM IS HIS RUNNER, GARRY. DAVE IS STOOD NEAR THE KITCHEN SIDE AND GARRY IS SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE. GARRY IS BLEEDING IN THE FACE AND HAS BEEN HIT IN THE EYE.}

DAVE: So, when the car pulled up were there two or three people in it?
GARRY: I think there was (three)
DAVE: You think? It was 30 minutes ago, blud, not last year. Give a man a break.
GARRY: Sorry mate. I passed the stuff over to the driver. He pulled my arm that fast that I banged me head against the side of the hood of his car. Next thing, Shelly’s picking me up...
DAVE: And why was Shelly there?
GARRY: What?!? Her john had just dropped her off.
DAVE: And where is she now?
GARRY: Now?
DAVE: (under breath) Tut! Yes, now?
GARRY: Dunno mate. {DAVE STARES HARD AT GARRY} Honestly! I reckon she’s at her place. She’d been up for a few days when I saw her earlier. She was on her way to pick up so I reckon she isn’t going to be sleeping soon.
DAVE: It was lucky she found you ‘fore you bled to death.
GARRY: Shelley aint anything to do with this, blud, if that’s what you think.
DAVE: [PUTS ASH AND LUMP OF CRACK ON TOP OF PIPE] she’ll turn up once she wants more of this.

[LIGHTS PIPE AND INHALES]

GARRY: I hope you don’t think any of this is to do with me.
DAVE: [EXHALING SMOKE FROM PIPE THROUGHOUT] If I thought... that you would even dare... fuck me over like that...{PUTS PIPE DOWN} you wouldn’t be alive, let alone in Sheffield.
[DAVE TAPS THE ASH FROM THE PIPE INTO THE ASHTRAY]
GARRY: [COUGHS NERVOUSLY] you can see why I’m asking though, innit? You asking about Shelly and you knowing... well...me and Shelly...
DAVE: Pipe?
GARRY: Please. [GARRY IS RELEAVED AT THIS OFFER]
{DAVE PREPARES AND PASSES THE PIPE, LOOKS AND REALISES HE DOESN’T HAVE A LIGHTER. LEANS OVER AND TAKES GARRY’S LIGHTER.]
DAVE: Swear down blud. You need to stop being so paranoid. I need to work out who’s fucking with me.{DAVE LIGHTS HIS PIPE} I trust you but I gotta ask. I is a good judge of character. There’s you, Sarah and one other person knows about this deal. {DAVE EXHALES} I trust you but a man’s gotta keep things tight if he suspects someone’s trying to Shanghai his shizzle.
GARRY: Erm... ok. I get you man.

[GARRY LEANS OVER TO RECLAIM HIS LIGHTER]

DAVE: I mean. You is a true player, man. You know the fucking score. You and me, we been through shit together. We true brothers. What you get, I get. Man hurts you, man be fucking with me [GARRY LIGHTS HIS PIPE] if I couldn’t trust you, man, I may as well shoot us both; here and now.

[DAVE TAKES A PISTOL FROM KITCHEN DRAW. HE HOLDS THE PISTOL TO HIS HEAD WHILST LEANING HIS HEAD AGAINST GARRY’S]

DAVE: [MIMICS PULLING THE PISTOL] Bang! Ha ha ha ha.
GARRY: But you can trust me mate. You know that.
DAVE WALKS TO THE WINDOW AND PLACES THE PISTOL ON THE WINDOW LEDGE. HIS MOBILE PHONE RINGS.

DAVE: [ANSWERING THE PHONE] Yo!... How much? Five minutes... No, not after last time. Twenty or none at all... Swings...Later.

[DAVE HANGS UP THE PHONE]

DAVE: Garry, Twitch wants a p4. He’ll meet you over on the swings. Hurry up and get cleaned up.

{GARRY GOES TO THE SINK, SPLASHES WATER ON HIS WOUND AND TAKES SOME KITCHEN ROLL. HE HOLDS THE ROLL TO HIS FACE AS HIS LEAVES THE FLAT RIGHT OF STAGE.}

GARRY: Cool. I’ll nip back up for the rest of the stuff after I’ve been to the shop. Do you want anything?
DAVE: Go on. And if you see Sarah out there then tell her I want to see her.

[GARRY PACKS, LIGHTS AND SMOKES PIPE)]

GARRY: [EXHALING] See you... innabit. Listen for the buzzer though innit. I was waiting ten minutes last time I went out. It’s bloody cold on those stairs.
DAVE: Ok. By the way, if you see Terry, tell him not to come up to my flat without calling. I’m expecting a visitor and he isn’t really someone I want around when he arrives.
GARRY: {LAUGHING] Us scruffy types not good enough for you now you’ve got your cheap source?
DAVE: Be off with yourself. I’ll see you soon; Make sure you’ve got your phone on you too.
GARRY: Laters.
[GARRY EXITS TO RIGHT OF STAGE. MEANWHILE, DAVE LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW.}


{DAVE STARTS SMOKING ANOTHER PIPE. SARAH WALKS IN FROM RIGHT OF STAGE.]

SARAH: Hi babe.
DAVE: How’s business been?
SARAH: Alright?
DAVE: Alright?
SARAH: What I’ve just said isn’t it?
DAVE: (APPROACHES SARAH FROM BEHIND. TAKES HER BAG AND COUNTS ALL THE MONEY IN HER PURSE) Alright? Two hundred – is that what you call alright?
SARAH: What do you want me to do? Go round every man on the estate asking them if they want a blow-job? Like that fucking slut.
DAVE: Don’t fucking take the piss.
SARAH: I’m not
DAVE: Two hundred pounds, in one night, and where’s the rest?
SARAH: Are you saying I’m lying?
DAVE: No.... more like you’re stealing.
SARAH: You what?
DAVE: (GRABS SARAH BY THE ARM) Don’t fuck with me. Garry’s been round you like a fly round shit. His packages have been down too. Don’t think I’m fucking stupid.
SARAH: What are you on about?
DAVE: (HITS SARAH ROUND THE FACE) Stop fucking trying to make out like this is nothing to do with you.
SARAH: (CRYING) Dave, what the fuck are you trying to say? I haven’t done anything wrong. Why are you being harsh with me? You said you loved me the other (night)
DAVE: (YANKS SARAH’S ARM) Don’t start that shit with me. I say what I need to so I don’t get fucked over. How have you worked six hours last night and I only see two-hundred pounds
.SARAH: But I’ve had me B’s and me white from you babe.
DAVE: You lying fucking bitch!


{THERE IS A KNOCK AT THE DOOR. DAVE ANSWERS IT TO TERRY]

TERRY: Hi bro. How’s things?
SARAH: I’m going out. I’m fed up with this shit-hole.
DAVE: And when are you coming back?

{SARAH HURRIES OFF OUT OF THE DOOR RIGHT OF STAGE]

DAVE: [UNDER BREATH] Fucking bitch. [TO TERRY] What have I told you about coming round here without knocking?
TERRY: But it’s your old mate, Terry, man. It’s never been a problem in the past.
DAVE: There aint nothing here anymore. I must have said this to you about ten times now.
TERRY: What are you on about man? I can smell it. Why are you being an arsehole with me?
DAVE: I told you there’s nothing left.
TERRY: So, what are you trying to say then? Does this mean that you and me aren’t brothers anymore?
DAVE: No, it means that there isn’t anything in the flat that I can sell you. Do I need to spell it out?
TERRY: Come on ‘bro. I can’t believe you’ve got nothing left.
DAVE: I told you. Garry’s got all the shit on him outside.

{OWEN ENTERS FROM RIGHT OF STAGE}

OWEN: Hello. I would have knocked but the door was open.
DAVE: Owen! How can I help you today?
TERRY: [SEEING OWEN’S SUIT] Whoa, you have gone up in the world haven’t you Dave? You can sort this guy out but not your old mate. I suppose I’m not dressed well enough to chill in your flat. I’ll be getting off now.
DAVE: Terry, for God’s sake. He’s a friend. Go see Garry.
TERRY: Fine, I know where I’m not wanted.

{TERRY LEAVES THE FLAT]

OWEN: Who was that scally? I thought we agreed that all your business was to be done outside from now on?
DAVE: He’s just a local smack-head. I keep telling him to meet Garry outside but he has a habit of taking things too personally.
OWEN: Well, the deal was that this flat is just used as a drop off point.
DAVE: This is my home you’re talking about.
OWEN: And I seem to remember us talking about your home being in Waterbrook with a nice garden, big screen television and all the other mod cons.
DAVE: It’s more difficult than you think though. These people used to be my friends. It’s hard to cut them off like that and still maintain a business.
OWEN: Friends eh? Well, do you think they’ll still be your friends after you’ve moved away? That guy would rob you blind if he thought there was a fix in it.

[DAVE LOOKS UPSET]

DAVE: I know, I know. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. If it wasn’t for this deal then I would be in the same boat.
OWEN: It’s a cruel world though and only the toughest survive. A good rule to remember is that If you have the ability to aim for higher goals and work towards them rather than feeling sorry for yourself and thinking the world owes you one then you will succeed in getting what you want.
DAVE: And what are you getting out of this, Owen? The Council don’t exactly go round advertising their links with Saudi traffickers.
OWEN: Another rule is that to get ahead you have to keep your business to yourself.
DAVE: Mmm.... Well, I do see what you mean. I don’t care as long as me and Sarah can get out of this fucking shit hole.
OWEN: I don’t see where there is a problem. You have the goods, you have the lady, and I just hope for your sake that you have the ability to save.
DAVE: Save?
OWEN: Your money. You must be earning as much as me with all the cheap gear I’ve been putting your way?
DAVE: {LOOKS NERVOUS] ... Of course. I should be out of here in the next two months.
OWEN: Two months! I would have thought you’d have been able to buy a house in Hangingwater by now.
DAVE: Erm... but I’ve got Sarah to consider too.
OWEN: I thought Sarah would earn a lot down at the club.
DAVE: She does but... Well, we want to be certain that we can make a fresh new start.
OWEN: Well don’t take too long with it. My investors are waiting to strike their deal soon.
DAVE: I can’t understand why anyone would want to buy a run-down shit-hole like this estate. Anyway, why are you here? I thought you said that this deal would only work if we went through inbetweeners?
OWEN: I’m here to deliver a personal package for you.
DAVE: Ok...
OWEN: My investors are having trouble with a few tenants that have some kind of strange kinship to this flea-ridden chicken pen. I need you to flog this so that they are more persuaded to take up the Council’s offer of re-housing.
DAVE: I know who you mean, the old couple from eighty-seven. They aren’t into this kind of stuff though. I really doubt that I’ll be able to get them on it. They would probably call the police (and)
OWEN: Dave, I think you are heading down the wrong path. I don’t want you to get anybody hooked.
DAVE: I don’t understand.
OWEN: This package is like a bomb.
DAVE: A bomb?
OWEN: A bomb designed for just one person.
DAVE: Who?
OWEN: Whoever you like; somebody with no connections, somebody who will not be missed.
DAVE: And is there a reason for this?
OWEN: I thought you were cleverer than asking me that question. Would two thousand be a good enough reason?
DAVE: I see. When do you want me to... err... deliver the package?
OWEN: Tonight.

{DAVE LOOKS STRESSED]

DAVE: Ok then. Will I see the money today or tomorrow?
OWEN: I’ll deliver it myself personally when I hear the report that it has blown up.
DAVE: How long exactly is it until your investor makes his deal?
OWEN: I’m going now Dave. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.
DAVE: Ok then.

{OWEN LEAVES LEFT OF STAGE. DAVE OPENS THE KITCHEN DRAW AND PULLS OUT A SHEET OF TIN-FOIL AND A FOIL TUBE. HE STARTS TO SMOKE]

{ON THE STAIRWELL - IS RUNNING BACK UP THE STAIRS AFTER LEAVING THE FLATS. SARAH IS CRYING UNDERNEATH THE STAIRWEL}

SARAH: Oh, hello.
GARRY: [TURNS TO SEE SARAH] Aye-up.
SARAH: You going back up the flat?
GARRY: Yeh. You just been to see him?
SARAH: {LOOKS GLUM] Yeh. Glad I ran into you really.
GARRY: Oh?
SARAH: Yeh, well. I could do with having a chat with you at some point.
GARRY: A chat? What about?
SARAH: You know what. I don’t want to be doing this anymore. I’m fucking sick of it. One minute he’s nice and the next he’s a bastard. He can be such a fucking arsehole. I suppose he’s under a lot of pressure though. He’s an alright guy...
GARRY: Sarah... what the fuck?
SARAH: I... We’re, going to end up really hurting him... especially if he ends up getting fucked over. I don’t trust this fucking Owen guy he’s been in touch with. Dave says this deal’s going to mean we can move up Waterbrook and have a nicer pad but you got robbed and Shelly’s being really weird... it needs to end... now.
GARRY: Whoa, I don’t think so [HE PUTS ARMS OUT TOWARDS SARAH]
SARAH: {PULLING BACK] What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
GARRY: And where will me and Shelley be living when you and that prick are all comfy living out of the centre?
SARAH: Why are you calling him a prick? He’s your best mate.
GARRY: If I was his best mate I wouldn’t be fucking you, you stupid slut. Now don’t be talking that you’re going to stop. In fact, not only are you going to carry on but from now on, each time I see you I want an eighth of both as a treat for even thinking of hurting me like that.
SARAH: [TRIES TO PULL AWAY BUT GARRY IS HOLDING HER FOREARM] What the fuck? Why don’t you fucking get off me?
GARRY: {SHAKES HER] I’m not going to hit you now because he might be listening but if you don’t stop freaking out I’ll make sure the next time you’re on your own with me that you won’t freak out again.
SARAH: Ok... {SHAKES HERSELF] You fucking bastard! I bet it’s you and not this Owen guy who’s trying to fuck him over.
GARRRY: So what if it was? I thought you couldn’t stand Dave. I thought that when he touched you, you wanted to be sick that much that you had to hold your breath?
SARAH: Shut up!
GARRY: So I presume you just said that so you could have a bit on the side?
SARAH: Fuck you!
GARRY: ‘Cos really, even though you think I’m scum right now for using you, you’re just as bad yourself.
SARAH: Fuck you, how am I as bad as a junkie running around the streets all day, earning no-more than enough gear to tide him over and his crusty slut girlfriend who would fuck anyone for a quick pipe?
GARRY: {GRABS SARAH SHARPLY AT THE BACK OF HER ARM] Shut the fuck up you stupid cunt. Shelly maybe on the game but you’re no better, going down that club and stripping for greasy old men and Pakis. I bet if they offer enough money you’ll do the same. Isn’t that what a ‘private’ dance is?
SARAH: {TRIES TO WIGGLE FREE] Oww! Let fucking go. I’ll scream for Dave.
GARRY: And I’ll tell him what a good fuck you are. You know, he fucks half the sluts round here when you’re out at work, he couldn’t give a fuck about you. I’ve been his mate for years. If you tell him that I’m trying to fuck him over then I’ll just tell him that you tried it on with me and I wonder who he’ll believe.
SARAH: So what the fuck do you want me to do then? Keep fucking you?
GARRY: Exactly... and fetch me a good smoke while you’re at it.
SARAH: You fucking arsehole. He’ll figure out it’s you eventually.
GARRY: No he won’t. That’s the thing. You’re just a stupid stripper. He’s just an old wannabe Yardie. Give it a few months and it’ll be me running this estate. If you were clever you would keep your alliance with me and I may just treat you ok once Dave has disappeared.
SARAH: You’re fucking on one. Let me go and get back to my flat. {GARRY LETS HER GO}
GARRY: See ya later, Sarah.

[SARAH WALKS QUICKLY BACK TO THE FLAT]

[GARRY DIALS HIS MOBILE]

{DAVE’S PHONE RINGS]

GARRY: Was’ up Dave? Let us in mate.
DAVE: Yo!... Ok dude. See you in a bit.

[THERE IS A KNOCK AT THE DOOR]

DAVE: Come in.

{GARRY ENTERS RIGHT OF STAGE. HE IS CARRYING A COAT. HE IS STILL HOLDING THE KITCHEN ROLL. HE LOOKS CHEERFUL]

GARRY: OK man? Just dropped that off to Twitch and got my coat. I’m ready for business now.
DAVE: Nice one. I need you to do me a favour tonight bro. They’ll be some money in it for you.
GARRY: What kind of favour?
DAVE: One that you’ll probably not like too much.
GARRY: {LOOKS SERIOUS] What is it?
DAVE: Ok. Well you know how I’ve been dealing with the guy from the Council?
GARRY: Yeh...
DAVE: Well, he’s asked me to do him a favour.
GARRY: What kind of... favour?
DAVE: One I haven’t done for a while. Before I ask for your help I need to know for certain that I can trust you no matter what.
GARRY: Doesn’t sound like the most moral of favours. You know you can trust me though. Didn’t we go through all this not so long ago?
DAVE: How much do you want to get off this estate?
GARRY: Why are you even asking this question? You know I’d do anything for me and Shelly to get out of here.
DAVE: Anything?

[DAVE AND GARRY STARE AT EACH OTHER]

GARRY: What have you got in mind?

[DAVE PICKS UP THE PACKAGE OWEN GAVE HIM AND PASSES IT TO GARRY]

DAVE: I need you to deliver this to Terry.
GARRY: Gear? What’s so special about this stuff?
DAVE: It’s your ticket out of here.
GARRY: And why is it for Terry?
DAVE: I suppose you could say it’s his ticket out of here too...
GARRY: You mean....
DAVE: There’s a grand in it for you once the news comes back that it has been delivered correctly.
GARRY: Bloody hell, Dave. What’s Terry done to deserve this?
DAVE: And what has Shelly done to deserve selling herself every night and what have you done to deserve sitting outside in the cold all night for an extra tenner and a bit of gear?
GARRY: I don’t get you.
DAVE: You’re a smart guy. Do you want to stay here helping people like Terry who wouldn’t think twice about selling you to get what they want or would you rather deliver that package and move on from your troubles like me and Sarah will be?
GARRY: A grand?
DAVE: Indeed. Now here’s the stuff {DAVE PASSES GARRY THE PACKAGE AND A WRAP WITH ALL THE OTHER DRUGS IN] give us a call once you’ve seen him.
GARRY: Ok man. Are you sure that I won’t get in trouble over this?
DAVE: You know that I’ve got good connections. Now, make sure that nothing goes wrong and I’ll see you later.
GARRY: Ok then. [GARRY LOOKS AT THE PACKAGE] See you in a bit.
DAVE: Laters.

[GARRY LEAVES THE FLAT RIGHT OF STAGE.}


{GARRY WALKS ONTO THE STAIRWELL AND RUNS INTO SHELLY. THEY KISS]

SHELLY: Hi babe.
GARRY: Hey... how you doing? [GARRY LOOKS GUILTY]
SHELLY: You don’t look so good. What’s up with you?
GARRY: Oh, nothing.
SHELLY: So something then? I’m going up to get changed out of this shit. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in thirty minutes.
GARRY: What you going to see a quack for?
SHELLY: Women’s problems.
GARRY: Oh... will I see you later. I’m really busy at the moment. Dave’s working me like a horse. He doesn’t give a fuck that I nearly got killed this morning.

{SHELLY LOOKS AT THE WOUND ON GARRY’S HEAD AND THEN KISSES IT BETTER.}

SHELLY: It doesn’t seem to be as bad now though, honey. Take care and I’ll see you later.

{SHELLY HURRIES OFF UPSTAIRS AND OFFSTAGE TO THE RIGHT (UPPER). GARRY WALKS TO THE LOWER STAIRS. UNDER THE STAIRWELL, OWEN IS ON THE PHONE.}

OWEN: ... tomorrow, yes.
... {LAUGHS} Yes, certainly. He thinks I don’t realise.
... not at all.
... Oh, wait until you see her too, I think we’re both going to win with this one.
... {LAUGHS] I wouldn’t call her a princess mate.
... Nah, no background, yes, two.
... You too mate. Ten o’clock tomorrow.

{OWEN EXITS RIGHT OF STAGE. GARRY CHECKS HIS WATCH, LOOKS AT DAVE’S FLAT AND LEAVES AFTERWARDS. JUST AFTER, TERRY WALKS INTO THE STAIRWELL FROM RIGHT OF STAGE. AN OLD LADY WALKS DOWN THE OPPOSING SET OF STAIRS.]

OLD WOMAN: Terry, how are you?
TERRY: So, so. Coping, you know how it goes.
OLD WOMAN: Oh, you poor thing, all on your own. Why don’t you come round mine and have some food tomorrow night? You did such a good job of mending the kitchen cupboard the last time you were round.
TERRY: Well, I am the best handyman this estate has ever seen.
OLD WOMAN: I know, and the handle on my bathroom door broke just the other day. I was saying to our Derek wasn’t it a shame that we don’t see you that often anymore. You look like you could get a good meal inside you. Do you have the flu love? You’re sweating like you’ve got a fever.
TERRY: I have been feeling a little bit rough. Close friends being proper two-faced and my dog’s poorly. Life’s flu really isn’t it?
OLD WOMAN: Oh, well I’ve got to rush off love; I’ve got to get my pension before the post-office shuts.
{TERRY LOOKS UPSET. GARRY RETURNS FROM RIGHT OF STAGE. HE IS OUT OF BREATH AND HOLDING A NEWSPAPER}

GARRY: Terry mate, sorry I’m a bit late.
TERRY: Just got here ‘bro. You got some nice stuff for me today, innit? Last lot I had of you hardly touched the sides..
GARRY: Yeh man, anyway, I’ve got some right nice gear for you. Dave... he recommended it to say sorry for before.
TERRY: Seen, I knew he’d come through. Me and him are tight as tight trousers.
GARRY: Oh, yeh... of course you are. He was really upset about earlier. [GARRY FURIOUSLY SCRATCHES HIS NOSE]You know how he gets, man, he’s got all that nice white in and it’s making him a bit woo-woo {GARRY TWIRLS HIS FINGER AT THE SIDE OF HIS HEAD].
TERRY: Seen, seen. Well if this {TAKES PACKAGE FROM GARRY] is as good as you say then I might pop round tomorrow and make up with him.
GARRY: Of course. When you have some of that you’ll see how much you mean to Dave.
TERRY: I don’t need to have any of this to know how much Dave cares about me. I’ve known him for years and I’m not having some cheap runner trying to tell me how much I know him...
GARRY: Woah, Terry.
TERRY: Don’t ‘Terry’ me. Dave has been acting kind of weird lately now you come to mention it. [HE FRONTS UP TO GARRY] I hadn’t thought that a little prick like you...
GARRY: Hey!... Wha...
TERRY: So now you’re trying to talk over me when I’m trying to talk serious to you. Last man who tried that with me, well... [TERRY IS BREATHING HEAVILY] I’m not rising to you man. I can see what you’re trying to do. Don’t deny it...
GARRY: {UNFOLDS NEWSPAPER] Hey, Terry. Have you seen the front of today’s Star?
TERRY: Is it good?
GARRY: Oh yeh, have a look at this
TERRY: Ok... {TERRY LOOKS AT THE PAGE][WHILST READING] Seen, seen.

GARRY: Seen this though. {SHOWS NEWSPAPER TO TERRY]Check this fucker out. Nigel Thomas, 24, Pitsmoor; council estate lad. Gets home from work to find bloody millionaire Mark Johnson at his door...
TERRY: Did he shoot him.
GARRY: Well... not exactly.
TERRY: Did he knife his throat out?
GARRY: Terry... Fuck’s sake. It was his Dad.
TERRY: Fuck off. Why was he on an estate then?
GARRY: Ah! He was adopted. His real Dad felt so shit about abandoning him that he went to look for him. Nigel Thomas has changed his name to Nigel Johnson and is now an executive at a pharmaceutical company.
TERRY: Wish that would happen to me.
GARRY: How would it happen to you? You’re not adopted.
TERRY: Yes I am.
GARRY: Since when?
TERRY: Birth. It’s not something you broadcast around, is it really?
GARRY: Suppose not. Explains a lot though.
TERRY: Fuck you bro. I’m laters.
GARRY: Innabit.

[TERRY LEAVES TO RIGHT OF STAGE. GARRY WALKS UP UPPER STAIRWELL AND KNOCKS ON DAVE’S DOOR]

[GARRY ENTERS THE FLAT IN A RUSH. HIS FACE IS RED AND HE IS SWEATY. DAVE AND SARAH ARE SAT AWKWARDLY AT THE KITCHEN TABLE}

GARRY: Fucking hell!
DAVE: Christ man, what’s up?
SARAH: You alright Garry?
GARRY: Look at this {SHOWS NEWSPAPER TO DAVE AND SARAH] I was showing this to Terry and he says that he’s adopted.
DAVE: What? Have you been doing more crack than I thought? What the fuck has this to do with you barging in here like someone’s died.
GARRY: Well it’s not that far from the truth is it?
DAVE: You silly prick
SARAH: What the fuck are you two going on about? Do you seriously think that some millionaire is going to turn up and give Terry loads of money? Even if that did happen it would only mean there would be more money for us.
DAVE: You silly bitch.
GARRY: I gave him that bag.
DAVE: Good. Don’t worry about it anymore.
GARRY: He’s a popular guy, Dave. I can’t believe that this is going to be for the good.
SARAH: What bag? What good? What are you two on?
DAVE: [HITS SARAH AGAIN] Shut the fuck up. He’s just picked up from Garry and now Garry’s on one of his trips.
GARRY: Fucking hell Dave. I can see this all going wrong.
DAVE: Stop worrying. Now I’m going to spend some quality time with the missus. Get out my flat.
GARRY: Later.

{GARRY WALKS DOWN STAIRWELL} AND EXITS RIGHT OF STAGE. DAVE SITS DOWN AND SARAH ATTEMPTS TO HUG HIM FROM BEHIND]

SARAH: Hey babe...
DAVE: Don’t ‘babe’ me.
SARAH: Don’t you want to make up? Come to bed for a bit. It’ll take your mind off of whatever it is that’s going on. I haven’t got to go to work for another hour...

[DAVE SHRUGS SARAH AWAY IN AN ANGRY STATE. HE PICKS HIS PIPE UP, PUTS ASH ON IT, PLACES CRACK ON THE TOP AND THEN LIGHTS IT]

SARAH: You fucking prick! Sit and smoke that fucking shit then. That’s the reason you can’t fucking get it up anymore. You’re full of shit. Waterbrook? Every bit of smoke that comes out of your mouth is a little bit of that dream you promised me. I hope you fucking OD.

[SARAH GETS HER COAT, SLAMS THE DOOR AND EXITS DOWN THE STAIRWELL RIGHT OF STAGE. DAVE STARES AT THE DOOR WHILST SHE LEAVES AND THEN BLOWS THE SMOKE OUT FROM THE PIPE. THE LIGHTS GO DARK}

MORNING

[THE SCENE IS NOW LIGHT WITH MORE NATURAL LIGHTING TO INDICATE DAYLIGHT. DAVE HEARS KNOCKING ON HIS FLAT DOOR AND ANSWERS TO GARRY. IT IS STILL SNOWING OUTSIDE]
[DAVE HEARS KNOCKING ON HIS FLAT DOOR AND ANSWERS TO GARRY]

GARRY: It worked.
DAVE: Fucks sake, Garry. I’ve only been asleep two hours. Fuck off?
GARRY: He’s fucking dead.
DAVE: Shooting up skag with poison in will do that to you. Look at it on the bright side. You can call yourself a killer now.
GARRY: Fuck you man. I didn’t think it’d happen like this.
DAVE: You knew what you were selling him. What did you expect?
GARRY: I don’t know. What happens if his parents turn up?
DAVE: They’re dead.
GARRY: The real ones.
DAVE: Don’t be so bloody thick. Who’s going to go out of their way to get in touch with their smackhead, bum-boy son when they gave the stupid prick up in the first place?
GARRY: Well. I came to tell you that and also there’s this Owen guy on the lifts asking to see you.
DAVE: Owen? What the fuck does he want?
GARRY: I don’t know.
DAVE: Let him through then. Christ almighty. I can’t wait to get off this fucking estate.

{GARRY EXITS DAVES FLAT RIGHT OF STAGE AND GOES UPSTAIRS. OWEN WALKS BY HIM AND INTO DAVE’S FLAT]

OWEN: Dave, hello.
DAVE: Hi Owen. How can I help?.
OWEN: Did it go to plan? I talked to my friend from the property developers just after I met up with you yesterday. He managed to persuade the old couple into a cushty little cottage up Totley. It’s been nice doing business with you.
DAVE: You what!? You could have said something yesterday?
OWEN: Well, like I said to you yesterday; I really can’t understand why you haven’t saved up enough to move out yet.
DAVE: That’s not what I’m saying.
OWEN: Good job because there’s no more now.
DAVE: That’s fine with me.
OWEN: And I’ll be needing you to stop selling for a few months. I hope you can understand. Don’t want to attract attention from the old Bill and all that.
DAVE: Come on man. You can’t stop me doing my business.
OWEN: No, you’re right. I can’t but I call my friends in blue and I’m sure they’ll be interested.
DAVE: Fuck you. Where’s my money?
OWEN: [PASSES PAPER BAG TO DAVE] You can’t say that I’m not a fair man can you? Anyway, it was good doing business with yo

[OWEN LEAVES TO RIGHT OF STAGE. GARRY COMES BACK DOWN THE STAGE AND RUNS INTO SHELLY COMING UPSTAIRS]
GARRY: Oh!
SHELLY: Alright? I was hoping to run into you. You weren’t looking that great last time I saw you.
GARRY: Erm... yeh. I think it may be the stress of the job.
SHELLY: job?
GARRY: Yeh... what the hell do you think I’m doing out here?
SHELLY: You tell me. Isn’t it a bit open out here?
SHELLY: Did you hear about Terry?
GARRY: Yeh, I feel well shit about it. He was only telling me yesterday that he was adopted.
SHELLY: Really? Did he ever meet his real parents?
GARRY: No.
SHELLY: Then that’s just another smackhead dead in the last two weeks. I’m surprised the police aren’t more onto it.
GARRY: I don’t think they even give a shit about who’s getting killed. Nobody else does. Dave’s getting loads of money from this cheap gear. Some of its infected but he doesn’t give a shit. The whole estate is going down the pan and no-one seems to care. The Council don’t do fuck all, Dave spends all his profits on the good stuff he’s getting, I want to get out of here. I want to take you with me.
SHELLY: You’re just as bad as he is with your false promises. He promised Sarah they’d be moved up Waterbrook this time last year. If you had the stuff he was getting in then you’d be exactly the same and so would I probably.
GARRY: Like I’d be like that dirty old fucker!
SHELLY: Garry, we need to get a flat somewhere else and get on detox before this all goes wrong
GARRY: Ha, if I did that he’d kill me
SHELLY: Dave?
GARRY: Who else.
SHELLY: That’s what I was doing yesterday. I’ve been offered a flat up Gleadless and the Doctor’s put me on a Methadone script.
GARRY: What? I thought...
SHELLY: Come with me Garry, I love you.
GARRY: It doesn’t matter. I don’t deserve anything other than this. I’m in too deep.
SHELLY: No you’re not. I know what’s going on. With Terry, with Dave, everybody does. You’re not a bad person.
GARRY: But this is my life.
SHELLY: No it isn’t. We had a life together. We were happy when we moved here. This isn’t your life. Smack is.
GARRY: I can control the smack. Why do you always use that as an excuse?
SHELLY: So then you are a liar, a thief and a murderer naturally? All the things you have done have been nothing to do with you being addicted?
GARRY: What the fuck have you taken today? Of course that’s what I’m like naturally. Have you just come here to tell me what a cunt I am? Why don’t you just fuck off?
SHELLY: If that’s what you want.
GARRY: If you’re just going to get clean and fuck me off then yes. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s you who’s involved with the police.
SHELLY: [ATTEMPTS TO HUG GARRY] I love you Garry and I always will. I’ve learnt that I have been killing myself slowly for the last ten years. I thought we were closer but we’re obviously not. Take care of yourself [CRYING]. I hope that I’ll see you again.
GARRY: So you’re leaving me.
SHELLY: You can come with me if you want. We can do this together. I’m moving to Gleadless. Come and find me when you’re ready.
GARRY: You must be on something. I’ll see you here tomorrow for your usual.
SHELLY: [HOLDING BACK TEARS] Bye Garry. [THEY HUG] Keep strong.

{SHELLY LEAVES TO RIGHT OF STAGE. GARRY LOOKS SAD. THE POLICE ENTER FROM RIGHT OF STAGE. GARRY HIDES AWAY UNDER THE STAIRWELL]


[INT OF DAVE’S FLAT. DAVE IS SAT ON HIS OWN DRINKING A CUP OF TEA. THERE IS A KNOCK ON THE DOOR]

DAVE: Who is it?
POLICEMAN 1: Police!
DAVE: One minute. [UNDER HIS BREATH} Fucking hell, what do they want?

[DAVE OPENS THE DOOR. TWO POLICEMAN ARE STOOD OUTSIDE]

POLICEMAN 2: David Ragman?
DAVE: What do you want?
POLICEMAN 1: We are here to arrest you for the murder of Terry Proud.
DAVE: Who?
POLICEMAN 2: Usual rules apply. Anything you say will be taken down as evidence. You know the score.
DAVE: What? Do you mean Terry? I can’t believe you’re going to arrest me for killing my friend. I was here all night. My girlfriend can vouch for me.
POLICEMAN 1: Your girlfriend?
DAVE: Yes, Sarah.
POLICEMAN 1: Do you mean Sarah... Grasmere?
DAVE: What the fuck? How...Do you know where she is?
POLICEMAN 2: [TO THE OTHER POLICEMAN] Glad I’m not close to this venomous shit.
DAVE: [ATTEMPTS TO HIT ONE OF THE POLICEMEN] What the fuck? [DAVE IS RESTRAINED] You don’t have any proof of anything so get out of my flat.
POLICEMAN 2: As much as I would like to spend the rest of the day without your company I have my duty to do. We are going to take you down to the station and you will be arrested on two charges. Possession with the intent to supply and murder.
DAVE: I want to speak to some kind of legal aid.
POLICEMAN 1: All in good time.

[GARRY WATCHES DAVE BEING ESCORTED OUT OF THE FLAT BY THE POLICE AND HIDES SO HE CAN’T BE SEEN. GARRY PICKS UP HIS MOBILE AND CALLS SHELLY]

GARRY: Shelly?
..... What the fuck’s going on?
.... What do you mean you don’t know?
..... She fucking what?!
..... Fucking hell Shelly. I can’t just leave like that.
..... Murder, but he’s in with the council.
..... A set up? Sarah, with that Owen guy. Dirty bastard.
..... What do you mean don’t panic? How am I meant to get a fix? I haven’t had owt for three hours.
..... Gleadless? Which bus?
..... Give me a few hours to get my stuff. See you in a bit babe.

[GARRY EXITS RIGHT OF STAGE]

{AFTER GARRY EXITS, OWEN, ENTERS RIGHT OF STAGE WITH THE OLD WOMAN]

OWEN: Well, I’m sure your glad to be moving out of here.
OLD WOMAN: Ooh no, well, not really. This has been my home for forty years. I didn’t want to leave but with all this trouble , the murders and everything... and did you know there was a murder last night?
OWEN: Really?
OLD WOMAN: Oh yes, lovely young man called Terry.
OWEN: Well I feel a lot better knowing you’re going to be sleeping safe at night.
OLD WOMAN: Oh, you have been ever so kind.

[OLD WOMAN EXITS FROM LEFT OF STAGE. OWEN DIALS HIS MOBILE]

OWEN: ... Hi, Richard. If I were you I’d make my bid now.
... This Saturday?
... My date?... The stripper.
... Oh no, she doesn’t give a shit. As long as I’m home for Christmas dinner with her and the kids then she’s sweet as sugar.
... You too mate. We certainly pulled it off this time.