by James Graham
Grace Why is he talking to me like I’m a child, I know I slipped, my slip.
Kirsty Ballot paper.
Grace Turn it over. Him; don’t want you lot looking.
Jonathan Is she alright?
Stephen Everyone just stay where they are – (at Fred) Sir? Would you mind, just turning this lady’s ballot paper face down, for a second, then we can get her off the floor?
On Fred, clutching his ballot, confused. Looking at everyone looking at him. He looks at the ballot paper on the floor. And slowly starts to bend.
Grace (pointedly) No looking. Just turn . . .
Fred pauses. And then carries on, slowly, keeping his eyes on Grace. He turns the ballot paper over, face down, the other way. Beat . . .
Grace Well help me up, then.
Stephen Yes, of – (helping)
Fred I didn’t look.
Kirsty No, we know, thank you.
Grace (to Stephen as he ‘handles’ her) Oi you, just be lifting, don’t be feeling.
Stephen I – I’m not feeling.
Kirsty Stephen?
Stephen I’m not feeling, for God’s –!
Laura (to Jonathan) Name and address?
Jonathan Jonathan Clarke, middle name Michael, Jonathan Michael Clarke.
Stephen How is it, did you sprain anything ‘Mrs . . .?’
Kirsty Botchway.
Jonathan I’m not registered.
Laura Oh.
Jonathan I’m 17.
Laura Ri – . . . Right.
Grace is up on her feet, wincing at her ankle.
Grace It’s Grace, there’s no ‘Mrs’, cause there’s no ‘Mr’.
Stephen Right – Laura, is the young man –?
Laura Yes, I’m –
Jonathan (to Laura) Could have voted in the Scottish Referendum, 17. Except I wasn’t Scottish, so –
Laura Right, yeah, no, bad luck. Well unless you’re accompanied, by a grown-up, then sorry you’ll have to wait outside, I’m afraid, sorry.
Grace bends down and collects her ballot paper.
Grace I didn’t mean to get – it’s just private, isn’t it.
Jonathan saunters out. Fred goes back to the booth to vote.
Grace They know everything about you these days, don’t they, online and everything, but not this.
Pravin with his vote, above the ballot box. Grace is sorting herself out.
Pravin (to Stephen) Alright to do this now, then?
Stephen Oh, yes of course, please. I didn’t mean to delay you, just –
Pravin (Votes.) I’m actually next door. It’s my shop.
Stephen Right. Stephen. Crosswell. Presiding Officer for this polling station.
Kirsty Alright, Mr Shah, it’s Kirsty. I pop in at the weekend, my brother-in-law lives on –
Pravin Oh yes, Sunday Mirror.
Kirsty Oh, no sorry, you can’t say that in here, this is meant to be a politically neutral space. Right, Stephen?
Grace limps to the box.
Pravin Always lose business, when the school closes. No kids buying crisps; fizzy pop.
Stephen Sorry to hear that.
Pravin Make it up a little with those who don’t normally come this way, just to vote. One guy bought a bottle of Pinot Noir, today, we never normally shift any of that.
Stephen Oh Pinot Noir, right, lovely.
Grace drops her ballot paper into the box. To Grace, as she approaches the box.
Pravin Do you need anything from the shop, my sweetheart? I’ve got some gel for sprained ankles, paracetamol if you want to pop some pills?
Grace I’m fine, thank you.
Pravin nods and exits.
Grace Do you have a bathroom? I want to sort myself out.
Stephen Er, we wouldn’t normally – but no, of course, it’s just . . . Down on the right. Laura, perhaps you could – while there’s no –
Laura Yeah, no problem. This way.
Laura hops over and leads her out, exiting.
Fred puts his ballot paper in the box and makes his way out.
Stephen Thank you. (Off his look . . .) For your help.
Fred considers this, before wandering out.
Kirsty (wandering to the spot) She didn’t slip on anything, did she? There’s nothing slippy, look.
Kirsty slides her feet about a bit, checking.
God when she went down, I saw it, I thought, shit she’s dead.
Stephen These things happen. (Going to the sundries table as Laura returns.) I’ll grab one of Anita’s contact cards. And we should write it up in the logbook.
Kirsty Oh she’s fine, let’s not stir anything up.
Stephen It’s only fair, in case she wants to follow through – I mean follow up, not follow through. God, ‘Dr Freud on line two’? Haha. Long day. Kirsty, logbook?
Laura I don’t mind doing it.
Kirsty You’re alright, it’s your first time. I mean unless you want to.
Laura No, that’s OK. I mean, actually yeah, can I?
Kirsty Yeah course, here.
Laura Just so, in the future –
Voter 1 enters and approaches the desk.
Kirsty I remember last year – not last year; yeah it was last year, local and Europeans –
(Taking the Voter’s card.) Thank you.
She carries on talking while finding the corresponding name, address and then number in the register.
There was this poll clerk somewhere towards Kennington; ‘784’.
Laura ‘784’.
Kirsty And this clerk, she had someone have an aneurism in one of the booths, dropped dead, just like that.
Laura (handing the first Voter their ballot paper, folded and then unfolded) There, if you’d like to vote over there and then fold and pop in the box.
Voter 1 heads to the Voting Booth.
Kirsty And honestly, this same clerk year before that, or whenever, she had someone else come in and have a heart attack.
Laura Oh God.
Kirsty I bet no one wanted her this year, Stephen – do you? I reckon none of the Presiding Officers would touch her. Like she’s bad luck or something.
(Voter 1 heads to the ballot box.) You can never properly shake it, something like that. It’s like Chlamydia, leaves a trace.
Voter 1 turns to look at Kirsty, then exits.
Stephen OK, well 84 minutes to go, we’ve had a good innings so far, let’s just get our head down for the final furlong – is that what I mean, furlong? I’m mixing my sport metaphors again, aren’t I?
Kirsty (shaking Haribo jar) Who’s been eating all the greens? I bring them in for everyone and they’re the only ones I like; because they’re apple, green Haribos, aren’t they, and most green sweets are lime, which are disgusting, so –
Stephen No one’s been eating the greens, Kirsty.
Laura (beat) I get those boxes of dried fruits to pick at, at work.
Kirsty Dried fruit in the council leader’s office, Stephen. Don’t get that in our departments.
Laura I do bring them in myself, incidentally.
Stephen I’m about halfway through counting the unused ballots, it would be great to have all the accounts done and the box in the back of my Citroen for 10.45. Charlie Russell wants to announce the count at 2 this year, finally beat Southwark.
Kirsty ‘Southwark’, ‘booo’. S’quite nice actually, some of it.
Laura I know I keep saying it, I just still find that all a bit, I dunno, weird. This desire to count them ‘fast’, rather than – getting it right. Especially when we’re a key marginal, need to take care, don’t we?
Stephen Of course, but I don’t want it to be delays at this station that means the count is waiting for us. If the count waits for our box, the Returning Officer waits to announce the seat, and so on and so on.
Jerome Hanikie enters, dressed in his take-away uniform
, passing Stephen by the door.
Jerome Uh, so I don’t have my card.
Stephen That’s OK, you don’t need it. Just your name and address.
Jerome arrives at the issuing desk.
Jerome 19 Parks Avenue. Jerome Hanikie. Need me to spell it?
Kirsty That’s not necessary, sir.
Jerome (to Stephen) Them clipboard guys outside, they asked for my card.
Stephen Yes, they’re tellers.
Jerome Why, who they going to tell?
Stephen Just – themselves, really. They’re from their local parties, Labour, and Lib Dem. They’re trying to see if any core voters haven’t turned up, so they can go door knocking later.
Laura There you go.
Jerome Never normally outside are they, them guys?
Stephen This year we’re – everyone’s, more interested.
Jerome goes to the booth.
Kirsty Oh we’ve angled again, Laura, I’m too far away, can we ‘udge’ up?
Laura and Kirsty are seated on a vaulting horse from the school gym.
Laura Yep, one two three –
They hop up off the seat and tug the bench forward, sitting back down. Jerome votes and exits.
There, logbook done.
Kirsty Back on the sundries table, Laura. That wasn’t me telling you what to do –
Laura Kirsty, honestly, I keep saying . . . In here, we’re all – you know.
Grace is coming back in from the toilets.
Stephen (to Grace) Oh. How’d it go?
Grace What, do you want chapter and verse? Fine.
Stephen (handing Grace her shopping and a card) Here you are, these are the contact details of Anita Smith, our Deputy Returning Officer, if, you know, you want to make a –
Grace Oh, don’t bother with that. It was already sprained, last week. ‘Should know better’, right?
Jerome returns from outside, pointing at Kirsty.
Jerome Nah! I knew I recognized you.
Kirsty (pleased) Oh, here we go, yep.
Jerome You’re Axe Lady!
Kirsty Oh, that’s new, other people have been saying Cat Woman, but –
Grace (to Stephen) What’s he saying, who is she?
Stephen No it’s – just a silly thing, on the internet, this morning.
Jerome (showing Grace the video clip on his phone) Check out this vine! It’s cr-azy.
Grace (looking, gasping) It’s a video, of you!
Kirsty Yes, it is. (Video restarts.)
Grace And again. (Laughing.) You look so funny! (Once it stops.) Why are you swinging an axe?
Kirsty We were locked out the school this morning, and we legally have to be open at 7, so I got an axe and I smashed the door in! I didn’t see the cat watching otherwise I would have shooed it away, you know, for safety.
Jerome Your face! It’s like – (Jerome laughs, doing an impression of Kirsty in the video.) Argh!
Stephen Alright, well, if you’d like to – (gesturing towards the exit)
Grace (on her way out, laughing) So funny. (She exits.)
Jerome Yo this time some girl with a clipboard asked which way I voted, I thought it was private.
Stephen It is, they’re just – that’s an exit pollster.
Jerome So I can tell her?
Stephen You can do what you like.
Jerome Well I just thought I’d let you know, in case.
Stephen No, I know.
Jerome (misinterpreting, affronted) Trying to do a good deed, you know. If people still do that.
Stephen No, of course, I know. (Beat.) Thank you.
Jerome Later axe lady. Keep swinging! (Exits.)
Kirsty (after him) I will. (Beat, to Laura.) That wasn’t rude was it –
Laura No –
Kirsty No. Bit hard not to let it all go to my head, to be honest.
Stephen Well like I’ve said, best not to bring it up with voters, ideally.
Kirsty I didn’t bring it up, they brought it up –
Stephen I just wish it hadn’t been shared without checking to see if – that’s all.
Kirsty I didn’t share it, my son did. And it was Laura that filmed it.
Laura Oh, well, yes for – on your phone.
Stephen It’s fine. I’m just saying. This year, tight race, lots of pressure to get it right, it doesn’t look the most . . . well dignified, does it. But –
Laura From a council PR point of view, if I can put that hat on for a moment, it’s not all bad, in fact at least it looks – passionate, like you cared, about upholding the principles of – everything. (With her phone.) Lot of positive noises from the council.
Kirsty Really?
Stephen All I care about is doing this right, and people feeling comfortable to come here and vote without being distracted by some – by what looks like, some mad woman with an axe. Anyway . . .
Laura (yawns) Long day, these four walls, 13 hours nearly now.
Stephen Against the European time directive, of course. Ironically, in this bastion of democracy.
Laura Think how many of us there must be, up and down the land.
Kirsty (stretching) Doesn’t help, sitting on this thing, no back on it, all day.
Stephen (looking outside) Another quiet patch. (his watch) EastEnders finished over half an hour ago, might get a rush. That’s been 30 years, hasn’t it. ’85? How many general elections is that? EastEnders?
(Stephen starts singing the EastEnders closing ‘duff duffs’ at the piano. Kirsty and Laura join in for the final beats. Stephen plays and makes up a song to the theme tune of EastEnders).
Thatcher, Major, Blair, Blair, Blair.
Cameron-needed-Clegg,
And this time, well who knows?
The other two chuckle and give him a round of applause.
Laura I’m quite excited, for 10, the exit poll. Got it spot on last time, didn’t they. Not many nights like this, where you get to wonder what ‘tomorrow might be’.
Kirsty It will be what it always is. Unfair. Just a different kind.
Laura Really, you’re not a ‘believer’, Kirsty, even though you do all this?
Kirsty Oh well this is just a laugh, isn’t it. ‘Social’. And double pay. Keep your wage at the council, get a wage doing this, win-win.
Laura I feel quite, I dunno, honoured, if that doesn’t sound . . . to be contributing. To my community, playing my part.
Kirsty Not your community though, is it. You’re up in – where are you again? North of the river. (Sucking on a Haribo.) Do you have aspirations of ‘high office’?
Laura Me, no, I’m just – I’m the leader’s press advisor, I’m not a policy –. Although, yeah, a lot of MPs were advisors at some point, so –
Stephen tinkling a couple of the keys, thoughtfully.
Kirsty Play something, Stephen. He’s really good, he did this open mic thing for Red Nose day once.
Stephen Oh that was just . . . Oh I dunno.
Stephen plays a short burst of something old school at the piano, like –
(Singing.) ‘I have often walked, Down this street before
Dah-di-dah-dah, something, something, Quality Street before.
All at once –’
Tilde, a Swedish television journalist, enters and Stephen stops abruptly, smiling.
– Hiya.
Tilde Hello – (seeing Kirsty) Oh, it is you. And I saw the door, too. My card.
Kirsty Oh, no, we need your polling card, this is your business card.
Tilde No, actually, I’m – a reporter. From SNT, Svensk National television . . . Swedish television. We saw the video online –
Stephen Ooh, right, no, you can’t come in here if you’re a reporter.
Tilde I’m aware of the regulations, I left my cameraman outside –
Stephen goes to check outside, Kirsty comes out from behind t
he issuing desk.
Kirsty Cameraman? For me?
Tilde We’ve been at Westminster all day, which has been pointless, the one day no one is there! But my producers, they want the Big Ben, they want the ‘spires’. So – but people will love this. Would you mind? A little interview, Kirsty?
Kirsty ‘Kirsty’? – this is so, it’s mad, it’s – (Kirsty exits to investigate.)
Stephen No, sorry, she can’t leave her post, and I don’t want a member of our team subjected to that kind of scrutiny when –
Kirsty (offstage) Hello!
Tilde I will never understand why in this country you won’t allow the cameras in. It’s like ‘what are they hiding in there’? Like you are ashamed of it, or something.
Stephen More ‘protective’, of it. The anonymity, and –
Tilde Hiding it makes it unfamiliar to people. It isn’t a temple, you know. It won’t crumble if you take a picture. (Kirsty reenters.) Maybe at the end of today, for tomorrow?
Laura End of the day? Might be good for an interview? Stephen?
Stephen No, I’m sorry.
Kirsty Stephen!
Alexandra (Russian) and her wife Rochena arrive to vote, approaching the desk.
Stephen And now we have some genuine voters, so, if you wouldn’t mind. Kirsty?
Alexandra (Hands over her card.) Here you go. And this is my wife’s. (Laughing.) Eeek.
Kirsty Alexandra Peters. ‘912’.
Alexandra We’ve just been out to dinner. I had scallops.
Kirsty I don’t care. Right. Rochena Peters, ‘882’.
Alexandra Look, tiny chairs! It’s like Alice in Wonderland.
Laura (Handing Alexandra her ballot paper.) Here’s yours.
Rochena It’s a school, just a school.
Laura (Handing Rochena her ballot paper.) And here’s yours.
Alexandra Eek!
Rochena Sorry, she’s a bit giddy, it’s our anniversary.
Tilde (to Rochena and Alexandra) Congratulations! (to Stephen) Are you from . . . you sound Polish, or is it Russian?
Alexandra Yes, Russian.
Stephen (gesturing the exit to Tilde) If you wouldn’t mind . . .
Alexandra All these candidates . . .
Rochena (to Stephen) God, we take it for granted, don’t we.
Stephen Yes, I suppose we do.
Alexandra (crossing to booth) So strange, one of the oldest democracies in the world and this is where you come?
Tilde (being guided out by Stephen) It is rather odd, isn’t it? You have not upgraded to screens yet? Computers?
