Consensual Read online

  Evan Placey

  CONSENSUAL

  NICK HERN BOOKS

  London

  www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

  Contents

  Title Page

  Original Production

  Characters

  A Note on Punctuation

  A Note on Staging

  Acknowledgements

  Consensual

  About the Author

  Copyright and Performing Rights Information

  Consensual was first performed by the National Youth Theatre of Great Britain at Ambassadors Theatre, London, on 18 September 2015. The cast was as follows:

  DIANE Lauren Lyle

  FREDDIE Oscar Porter-Brentford

  GEORGIA Grace Surey

  MARY Megan Parkinson

  PETE Conor Neaves

  JAKE Cole Edwards

  MR ABRAMOVICH Oliver West

  STUDENTS

  BRANDON Luke Pierre

  RHYS Gavi Singh Chera

  NATHAN Jason Imlach

  OWEN Oliver West

  LIAM Andrew Hanratty

  GRACE Francene Turner

  TAYLOR Melissa Taylor

  KAYLA Alice Feetham

  DESTINY Paris Iris Campbell

  AMANDA Ellise Chappell

  Consensual was commissioned by NYT Artistic Director and CEO Paul Roseby.

  Director Pia Furtado

  Assistant Director Matt Harrison

  Designer Cecilia Carey

  Production Manager Alan Kingsley-Dobson

  Technical Manager Jackson Ingle

  Company Stage Manager Nick Hill

  Musical Director Jim Hustwit

  Sound Designer Emma Laxton

  Sound Operator Rich Price

  Lighting Designer Josh Pharo

  Lighting Operator Gareth Weaver

  Head of Costume Richard Gellar

  Deputy Head of Costume Elle Van Riel

  Wardrobe Mistress Katherine Hutchinson

  Wardrobe Mistress Ugne Dainiute

  Producer Beth Watling

  Characters

  DIANE, twenty-nine (and twenty-two)

  FREDDIE, twenty-two (and fifteen)

  GEORGIA, fifteen

  MARY, twenty-three, pastoral assistant

  PETE, thirty-six, Diane’s husband

  JAKE, twenty-two, Freddie’s brother

  MR ABRAMOVICH

  STUDENTS, all fifteen years old

  NATHAN

  BRANDON

  RHYS

  LIAM

  OWEN

  GRACE

  AMANDA

  TAYLOR

  DESTINY

  KAYLA

  A Note on Punctuation

  A dash (–) is a cut-off, sometimes of one’s own thought with a different thought (not a pause or beat).

  An ellipsis (…) is a loss or search for words.

  A lack of punctuation at the end of a line means the next line comes right in.

  A Note on Staging

  Throughout Part One, the students should all be present in some way; perhaps watching the action or only there at the start and end of scenes, but their energy and lingering presence should be felt.

  They are not present for Part Two.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you Paul and Beth at the National Youth Theatre for the challenge.

  Thank you especially to Pia Furtado.

  E.P.

  This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

  PART ONE: AFTER

  Prologue

  The STUDENTS, in uniform, invade the stage. They’re chatty, noisy. One of the STUDENTS has started beatboxing and the others have joined in singing. Despite the slight chaos of the scene, there’s a unity to the singing. Even the kids who wouldn’t normally be part of the crowd singing are enjoying themselves. There’s also chatter over the top of and during the singing. There’s something about their energy that’s animal, that’s frightening, that’s sexy.

  And then all at once, the STUDENTS simultaneously stop singing/talking as they turn to look at:

  Scene One

  A pub. Afternoon.

  DIANE and FREDDIE sit at a table across from each other. DIANE is seven months pregnant.

  DIANE sips a tea, FREDDIE a pint of beer.

  FREDDIE. You been to those classes, learn how to do nappies and that?

  DIANE. No.

  FREDDIE. You not worried you gonna put it on backwards or something?

  DIANE. It’s not my first.

  FREDDIE. Oh right. How old is…?

  DIANE. Why are we here?

  FREDDIE. You chose it.

  DIANE. I don’t mean the place.

  FREDDIE. Bit of a shithole if you don’t mind me saying.

  DIANE. Why would I mind?

  FREDDIE. Just in case it’s like your favourite pub or something.

  DIANE. I’ve never been here before.

  FREDDIE. Just thought since you

  Oh, right. Right.

  DIANE. What?

  FREDDIE. Nothing. (Smiles.)

  DIANE. Sorry your tie’s gone to waste.

  FREDDIE. Nah, it’s my work ensemble. Barclays.

  Why is that funny?

  DIANE. It’s not.

  FREDDIE. You don’t think I’m smart enough to work in a bank?

  DIANE. I didn’t… Freddie, why are we here?

  FREDDIE. No one calls me that. Not a kid any more. ’S Frederick now.

  DIANE. Frederick. Who works in a bank. In his ensemble.

  FREDDIE. Are you making fun of me?

  DIANE. No.

  Yes. (Laughs.) Just doesn’t seem like…

  It’s not you.

  FREDDIE. How would you know? You don’t know me any more.

  DIANE. No. You’re right.

  Beat.

  FREDDIE (laughs). Christ, it’s so not me. (Takes his tie off.)

  Sometimes catch myself in the mirror and it’s like who’s the kid who’s come to work in their dad’s clothes. (Unbuttons shirt.) Just something for the moment, get some experience, try to realise all that unfulfilled potential everyone was always telling me I had.

  By now he’s taken off his shirt and hung it with his tie over the chair and sits in a vest. DIANE, uncomfortable, focuses on his face so as to not look at his body.

  There’s kids, right, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, starting businesses in their bedrooms, and they’re bringing in thousands, only just getting their first pubes and they’re like CEOs. I’m only twenty-two but I got like years to catch up on those little bed-wetters. And what if I’d done that. Do that a lot. Maybe if, what if, undo all the regrets in my head and see where I’d end up. Like this – (Stands, pulls up his vest to show a scar just below his belly button.) See that? Some stupid bar scrap when I was nineteen, don’t even remember what it was about but ended up with piece of beer glass here. Can you see how there’s no hair on that bit, like this sudden gap in the trail, and what if I’d just gone home, not ordered that extra pint?

  He can see she’s uncomfortable, pulls his vest back down.

  DIANE. You need to say it. You have to actually say it, Freddie. Frederick.

  FREDDIE. Say what?

  DIANE. You have to actually say sorry. You can’t just say there’s regrets. You have to –

  FREDDIE. Say sorry for what?

  Pause.

  Say sorry for what?

  DIANE. Why did you text me? Why after seven years did you tell me we needed to meet? We had to meet?

  Beat. She looks at her watch.

  FREDDIE. You still got twenty minutes.

  Lunch still ends at 1:25. I checked.

  DIANE. I don’t work there any more.

  FREDDIE. No?
r />   DIANE. I left. After… Maybe you didn’t notice. But I left.

  FREDDIE. I noticed. I missed you. Me and all the other retards.

  DIANE. Don’t –

  FREDDIE. We did though.

  DIANE. You’re not a

  FREDDIE. I am. Well, I was. Remember seeing my photo up on the staffroom wall. ‘At risk’ it said above our mug shots, me and all the other retards. Though at risk of what it didn’t say.

  DIANE. It’s not a very nice word.

  FREDDIE. Where do you work now?

  DIANE. For an environmental company. A charity. We run campaigns. Get people to think about how they can modify their behaviour, in really practical ways, to lower their carbon footprint.

  FREDDIE. Oh. Right. And does it change things? One person with a thermal mug, a bag for life?

  DIANE. Yes.

  I don’t know.

  Maybe – it’s depressing – but maybe one person doesn’t have an impact. Maybe all they have is a tiny little imprint.

  FREDDIE. But multiple imprints eventually make a dent. And people take notice.

  Beat. This has hit something in her. It’s become suddenly intimate.

  DIANE. I should go. I need, I need to go.

  FREDDIE. To work?

  DIANE. Yes. No. Yes.

  I don’t work for an environmental charity.

  FREDDIE. What do you mean?

  DIANE. I made it up.

  FREDDIE. Why would you make that up?

  DIANE. I don’t know.

  FREDDIE. Were you afraid I was going to show up there? Because if that’s what I’d wanted to do, if that’s the kind of person I am, I would have done that already.

  DIANE. You know I didn’t go back there.

  FREDDIE. Not while I was there, no. Not as a pastoral assistant, no.

  You did a PGCE then went back as a geography teacher

  You married Pete, wore your hair in a braid for the wedding

  You honeymooned on the Amalfi Coast

  You briefly dyed your hair brown

  You still wear that red cardigan even though it doesn’t fit as well

  You’re head of Year 10

  Three years ago you became a vegetarian

  Last weekend you baked peanut-butter cookies

  You do think no one cares about how we’re destroying the planet, but you don’t work for an environmental charity.

  Beat. She stands to leave.

  Where are you going? It’s still sixteen minutes before next lesson.

  DIANE. What is this, Freddie, Frederick? You’re stalking me?

  FREDDIE. Did you never look me up? Never on a bored Saturday afternoon, just wonder… does he have a girlfriend? A goatee? Just do a harmless Twitter or Facebook search?

  DIANE. No.

  I shouldn’t have come.

  Goodbye, Freddie.

  FREDDIE. My dad died.

  A glass somewhere in the bar breaks. They both watch.

  DIANE sits.

  DIANE. I’m sorry.

  FREDDIE. A week ago. Bastard finally drank himself to death.

  You probably don’t remember, but one time, we were in your office. I was crying. Told you my mum was gone, had a brother who did fuck-all, and had a dad who didn’t love me. And you told me he did, of course he did. He was just too afraid to show it. You probably don’t remember.

  DIANE. I remember.

  FREDDIE. The night he died he’s lying in hospital drugged-up and he takes my hands. Like properly takes them. (Takes her hands.) And he says, swear to god, ‘I love you, son. I know I was never very good at sayin’ it. Maybe cos my dad never said it to me, so was too scared to. But I love you.

  Jake. I love you, Jake. Not like that faggot brother of yours. I tried, god knows I tried. But the thing with Freddie is he wants it too much. You can smell it when he walks into a room. He just so desperately wants to be loved that I couldn’t stand to look at him. Like one of them manky wet foxes you’d find by the bins, staring up at you, longing in their eyes. Just makes you want to kick the shit out of them.’

  Pause.

  Dad was right. People can smell it on me. The fellas at work always taking the mick cos they know I’ll take it. My last girlfriend who told me I was too needy.

  So how did you know?

  DIANE. Know what?

  FREDDIE. How did you, why did you choose me?

  DIANE. I don’t know what you mean.

  FREDDIE. Dammit, can you just – ! If I knew what it is that people see in me, what they smell on me that –

  If I knew what you saw in me so you knew you could…

  DIANE. Could what?

  FREDDIE. You know.

  DIANE. No. I don’t, Freddie.

  FREDDIE. Groom me. If I knew what it was that you saw, so that you knew that you could groom me, that you could…

  She laughs incredulously.

  DIANE. Are you insane? Freddie? Are you insane?

  FREDDIE. No.

  DIANE. You think I – ?! You actually think –

  FREDDIE. I don’t think anything. I remember.

  DIANE. What do you remember, Freddie?

  FREDDIE. Got me to trust you. You made it so I became dependent on you. So you could exploit that trust, that dependency. And take advantage of me.

  DIANE. You showed up at my house.

  FREDDIE. You gave me your number.

  DIANE. You came on to me.

  FREDDIE. You told me I had a good body. Told me to get undressed. You got me drunk and then had sex with me.

  DIANE. I’m pretty sure you got what you wanted. And then some, as I remember it.

  FREDDIE. It doesn’t matter what I wanted. What I thought I wanted. I wasn’t old enough to know, to properly understand, miss.

  DIANE. Don’t you ‘miss’ me. Don’t you dare

  FREDDIE. I was fifteen.

  DIANE. Sixteen.

  FREDDIE. You know I wasn’t.

  DIANE. Don’t tell me what I know.

  FREDDIE. You bought me things.

  DIANE. I didn’t buy you anything.

  FREDDIE. I still have it.

  DIANE. Have what?

  FREDDIE. The bracelet.

  He pulls out a threaded bracelet. Lays it on the table between them. She stares at it like it’s going to ignite.

  Do you know what’s most pathetic of all, miss? How even after – I kept texting you. You never replied, but still I, for months. Didn’t come back to school once you’d got what you wanted from me, but even when you’d tossed me aside, even when I felt sick cos of what we did that night, still like a loyal little cunt I didn’t tell no one, kept texting to see if you were alright – that’s how well you groomed me.

  DIANE. I think you’re right. You are a retard. You truly have some kind of mental retardation.

  I’m sorry your dad was an abusive alcoholic who didn’t love you. I’m sorry you have a shitty job in a bank with coworkers who don’t like you. Mostly I’m sorry that seven years later and you’re still the same sixteen-year-old who’s blaming others for your problems. But I’m not sorry for something that never happened. So if that was why you contacted me, if that’s what you thought would fix your life, I can’t give you that.

  FREDDIE. I went to the police. I made a statement. Maybe nothing will happen, it will just be an imprint. Or maybe it will make a dent. But I thought I should tell you. That that would be the adult thing to do.

  Scene Two

  A classroom. Same afternoon.

  On the board is a large drawing of a penis a student has put there. Teacherless, the STUDENTS sit on desks, wheel around on teacher’s chair, etc. All the STUDENTS, minus GRACE and LIAM, are present. OWEN sleeps, his cap pulled down low.

  DIANE enters.

  BRANDON. You late, miss. Gotta get a note from the office innit?

  DIANE. Rhys, can I have my chair back.

  BRANDON. We thought you wasn’t coming, miss.

  RHYS. What you talking ’bout her cumming for?

&n
bsp; DIANE. Rhys, my chair. 10B, we’re starting.

  DESTINY. How come you is late, miss? Form half over.

  DIANE counts them all, ticks the register.

  TAYLOR. Miss? (Giggles.) Um, miss?

  DIANE. What is it, Taylor?

  TAYLOR. Um like… have you looked behind you?

  DIANE. Are you referring to the large erect penis behind me?

  TAYLOR. Aren’t you gonna rub it out?

  BRANDON. D’you just ask her if she’s gonna rub one out?

  DIANE. No. To both questions.

  TAYLOR. Just really distracting.

  DIANE. Tell that to whoever’s put it there. Right, we don’t have long. Um. (Pulls out lesson plan.) Today we’re starting our new SRE unit.

  KAYLA. What’s SRE again?

  RHYS. We’ve only been doing it since Year 7.

  BRANDON. I’ve definitely been doing it since Year 7 if you get me.

  AMANDA. Sex and Relationships Education.

  KAYLA. Oh my gosh, it is like too soon after lunch for this.

  DIANE. Taylor, put away your phone please.

  KAYLA. Honestly, miss. I can’t be dealing with this right now.

  DIANE. Dealing with what exactly, Kayla?

  RHYS. Yeah, you’re the cock expert, Kayla.

  DIANE (trying to get PowerPoint to work). Right so we’re… um… why isn’t this working?

  RHYS. You want me to plug you in, miss?

  DESTINY. Nasty.

  DIANE. Rhys, have you been fiddling with this?

  KAYLA. He’s just been fiddling with himself.

  DESTINY. Booyaka!

  GRACE and LIAM enter.

  LIAM. Sorry we’re late.

  BRANDON. They were getting a head start on the sex education.

  RHYS. I can smell it.

  DIANE. We’ll use an old-fashioned marker. (Writes up ‘Healthy Relationships’.)

  DESTINY. We already did this, miss.

  DIANE. No we have not.

  DESTINY. Yes we did, didn’t we? You made us think of a word we thought described a healthy relationship.

  DIANE. In preparation of this. So. What words did people think of?…

  Did anyone do the homework?…

  Perhaps we can just do it now. Ideas? On what makes a relationship healthy?

  Silence.

  The point is for you all to have a discussion. Of what you think.