by Ella Hickson
ALBIN. Of what?
KATE. Of getting stuck here.
ALBIN. Stuck?
KATE. The more time I spend here, the more I become a person that doesn’t get on with their parents, and those kinds of people rarely turn out happy. They aren’t good people – they’re messy and… they’ve failed somehow.
ALBIN. Kate?
KATE. It’s ugly.
ALBIN. They love you – you love them, it’s not as bad as you think it is.
KATE. I can’t stand it – I can’t stand being here, it – it’s panic, it’s dread or – the feeling is so big in me, so much bigger than it should be.
ALBIN. But we had a nice evening, a lovely dinner and they’re, you know – a bit bonkers but /
KATE. / Essentially good people – I know – and I can hardly breathe. It’s wrong – in me, there’s something wrong.
ALBIN. Oh.
KATE. I can’t stand it when Dad hugs me – he’s been a great dad and he’s loved me so much and he’s never done anything – you know – weird – and yet I get really tense every time he tries to cuddle me… I can’t stand it. (Pause.) And it’s really – sad.
Pause.
KATE slumps down on the floor against the bed. ALBIN looks down at her.
ALBIN. I don’t know what to, um…
KATE. I don’t know when it became so difficult. When I was little I used to be so excited about coming back at the end of the school day, we’d put the fire on and have dinner and snuggle on the sofa and in holidays we’d spend days and days in our pyjamas – just me and Dad, just reading or watching films or eating crumpets and it was cosy and – great – and – home. And then – then – something happens and suddenly one time you come back and it looks different, really different, because you – you changed and suddenly you find yourself… judging. It’s like you put on these glasses and suddenly a snack isn’t a snack because you’re hungry, it’s a ridiculous fucking parmesan puff that Dad buys to look smart. And you realise that your family – the people you come from, are actually the ‘kind of people’ that eat parmesan puffs – but you’ve become the kind of person that thinks the kind of people that eat parmesan puffs are pretentious – but they’re still Mum and Dad, right? But you have to laugh at the parmesan-puff people – because if you don’t – it’s like you don’t realise that the parmesan puff actually means wealth and snobbery and social exclusion and weird aspiration – and if you don’t see that then you’re condoning it, you’re accepting all that – and I do see – and so I should laugh. But it’s still Dad – and – it’s what I grew up with so you’re actually laughing at your – self – but worse, your own home – you’re laughing at your dad – and that’s awful and heartbreaking and /
ALBIN. / Or it’s just a snack.
Beat.
You grew up, you changed, that’s normal /
KATE. / I’m at home and I feel homesick.
ALBIN. Tell them you’ve changed, explain – they’ll understand.
KATE. I don’t want to hurt them.
ALBIN. What’s the alternative? You keep pretending, you sit here and smile and nod and feel as – much – weird stuff and you’re feeling /
KATE. / Weird?
ALBIN. Well, it sounds pretty – intense, Kate. Just tell them… what’s the worst could happen? Eh?
Pause.
KATE’s face crumples. ALBIN stares at her for a moment – he loves her and he understands. He sits behind her and puts his arms round her like a little boat, they rock a bit.
KATE. I love you – so much. You’re fucking brilliant.
ALBIN. You’re not a monster.
KATE. Thank you.
They nod sincerely.
Beat.
ALBIN (using Bernard the bear’s voice). ‘In fact, Katy, it’s been so long since we hugged, I’d quite like it if you shook my bell.’
KATE. Fuck off, Bernard.
ALBIN. ‘Oh, but, Katy – I’m so under-hugged, my stuffing’s gone hard.’
KATE (laughing). This is very wrong.
ALBIN. ‘Can I give you some stuffing to loosen me up? Will you shake my bell?’
KATE (now also using Bernard’s voice). ‘I can “bear”-ly restrain myself.’
ALBIN. ‘My Bernard is better than your Bernard.’
KATE. ‘Oh, Bernard, you’re so meta.’
ALBIN. ‘Let me get my paws on you.’
KATE laughs – ALBIN starts kissing her and she rolls back on her back. They are kissing and laughing – the Bernard impressions continue. Bernard, on the floor and looking on, is turned over by one of them so that he can’t see proceedings. ALBIN keeps laughing and is making quite a lot of noise.
KATE (sniggering). Shh –
ALBIN. ‘Hear my bear roar!’
KATE (insistent). Shh, shh –
ALBIN. ‘Look into my beady eyes!’
KATE (getting tense). Be quiet!
ALBIN (unbuttoning her trousers). ‘I’m going to stuff you!’
ALBIN laughs – it’s particularly loud.
KATE suddenly stops laughing and moves herself out from under him. The fun is over.
What?
KATE (hushes). I said – be quiet.
ALBIN. What? Why?
KATE. I’m sorry, I – I don’t want them to /
ALBIN. / Calm down.
KATE. I’m fine. I don’t want them to hear.
ALBIN. We were just laughing – they do know we have sex.
KATE. I know but –
ALBIN. But what?
KATE. It’s disrespectful.
ALBIN. Disrespectful?
KATE. Yes.
ALBIN. Come on, you don’t really think that?
/ KATE. / I’m their little girl.
Pause.
ALBIN looks at KATE, slightly staggered.
I didn’t mean that.
ALBIN. Right.
KATE. I didn’t mean that.
ALBIN. I’m going to sleep.
KATE. Al?
ALBIN. I’ll keep to my side – I won’t touch you, I promise.
ALBIN gets in to bed. KATE sits at the foot of the bed – pulls her shirt down, rubs her face.
KATE catches sight of Bernard and instinctively pulls him towards herself.
KATE quickly holds him at a distance and looks at him.
KATE pushes Bernard’s face hard into the floor.
KATE lifts him up – apologetically, kisses him. KATE throws Bernard away.
LONDON
KATE sleeps.
It’s the middle of the night.
ALBIN enters in his boxer shorts and sees KATE sleeping.
ALBIN puts a blanket over her and exits.
The sound of ALBIN exiting rouses KATE.
KATE sits and looks at the doorway that ALBIN left through.
KATE writes.
Four
KELSO
It’s the middle of the night.
ALBIN, in his boxer shorts, is headed to the toilet – creeping along the landing.
The landing is pitch black.
ALBIN suddenly stops – he can hear breathing.
ALBIN. Hello?
A lighter is lit – and then a cigar.
NESSA. Hello, Albin; doing the midnight creep, are we?
ALBIN. I’m going to the toilet.
NESSA turns a landing light on – dimly – they can hardly see one another.
NESSA is in suspenders and a negligee and smoking a cigar.
LONDON
KATE sits dimly in the distance overseeing the scene, cautious of her own imagination – but strangely compelled to keep writing.
KELSO
NESSA. I realised we didn’t give you an answer to your question, earlier.
ALBIN. It’s three in the morning /
NESSA. / My answer is no.
ALBIN. Oh.
NESSA. I don’t believe in marriage, I wouldn’t want my daughter to suffer it.
ALBIN. Right.
NESSA. Romance, yes �
� lovers – fine – but marriage – no.
ALBIN. Okay. Well – good to know, thank you. I’m going to go to the /
NESSA steps in ALBIN’s path, blowing a little cigar smoke in his way.
NESSA. / Life is about experience.
ALBIN. Yes.
NESSA. You can only get so much experience from one person.
LONDON
KATE stands as if interested to see what ALBIN will say next.
KELSO
ALBIN. I suppose if I were forced to talk this through at three in the morning – I’d say –
LONDON
KATE. I’d say –
KATE looks at ALBIN.
EDIT
ALBIN. I’d say I agree. Look, Nessa – I’m no idealist – marriage lasts as long as you’re happy and then –
ALBIN. I’d say you’re probably right.
ALBIN. I’d say I’m not willing to have this conversation with my mother-in-law.
ALBIN. I’d say nothing is perfect.
ALBIN. I’d say that’s the price you pay for not being alone.
ALBIN. I’d say could we talk about this later because I really do need the toilet.
ALBIN. I’d say – is that an offer?
ALBIN. I’d say – you’re right, I’ve realised Kate is essentially limiting my freedom and I’m going to move on to green pastures / pastures new / new ventures / brighter futures –
ALBIN. I’d say – okay –
ALBIN. I’d say –
LONDON
KATE looks back at the door that ALBIN left through – at the blanket he put over her. She’s quiet for a moment.
KATE looks back to ALBIN.
KELSO
ALBIN. I’d say that depends on whether you see experience as /
NESSA. / Range? /
ALBIN. / Or depth. I think I see it as depth.
NESSA. Depth, really?
NESSA takes a step towards ALBIN.
ALBIN. You only get to spend fifty years with someone once. Year fifty – knowing what that’s like, you only get to do that once. That’s a unique experience.
NESSA. Unique enough that you’re willing to sacrifice all your independence for it? It’s boredom like you can’t imagine, resentment that builds, claustrophobia.
NESSA takes another step towards ALBIN – she places her hand on his chest.
ALBIN doesn’t speak – doesn’t move.
You’ll learn.
LONDON
ALBIN looks at KATE a moment, interested as to where she is going to send him next.
KATE smiles at ALBIN.
KELSO
ALBIN takes her hand off his chest.
ALBIN. I hope not.
ALBIN steps past NESSA.
Goodnight.
NESSA watches ALBIN leave in the twilight.
LONDON
KATE sleeps – finally – it’s night in the London flat, she’s exhausted.
The night passes and morning comes – the light of dawn fills the office.
KATE wakes with a start.
KATE picks up her phone to check the time.
KATE listens to a voicemail.
ALBIN (on the voicemail). Hi – it’s me, largely just checking you’re alive… I made you some breakfast – and left it –
KATE lifts up a newspaper and beneath it a cereal bowl – now stodgy – and cup of coffee.
The review is in, it’s there if you want to read it. I’ve gone to work. (Beat.) I don’t really understand what’s going on… or why you’re… (Beat.) Anyway – if you’re going to keep being Gollum you should probably cancel your parents. I don’t want to field it on my own. (Pause.) I hope you’re okay. Bye. Oh… I love you.
KATE turns the phone off.
KATE picks up the paper to read it.
KATE turns to the reviews page.
KATE reads a moment…
KELSO
IKE – covered top to toe in snow and wearing a large snowsuit – grabs the paper out of KATE’s hands and walks across the snow towards the house.
Five
KELSO
The sitting room.
It is morning – the smell of fresh coffee is coming through from the kitchen.
Everything has been tidied – it is looking lovely again.
The sitting room is silent.
KATE and ALBIN enter with their bags, ready to go.
They listen. Beat. They can’t hear anything.
ALBIN. Got everything?
KATE. Just need to grab my iPhone charger from the kitchen –
ALBIN. I got it last night.
KATE. We should say goodbye.
ALBIN. Course.
The front door opens and in walks IKE, in his ski-gear, with a serious pair of snow shoes on; he’s covered in the stuff, he’s carrying the paper.
KATE. Dad?
IKE (brushing off). Morning, all – how are we?
ALBIN. Good thanks. Been out, have you?
IKE. Funny.
KATE. What are you doing?
IKE. Car wouldn’t start, wanted the paper.
KATE. What?
IKE. What are the bags for, you can’t be leaving already?
KATE. We need to be back to Edinburgh by /
IKE. / But you’ve barely arrived.
ALBIN. I’m sorry we –
IKE. I haven’t seen you in months.
KATE. I’m sorry – we’ll – we’ll have a cup of tea.
IKE. I’ll put some breakfast on.
KATE. I think Mum is /
IKE. / She better not be in my bloody kitchen.
NESSA blustering in from the kitchen – she is a picture of domestic bliss, pinny, flour on her face, maybe even singing a tune.
NESSA. Morning, darling – s – how are you? Did you sleep alright? I’ve made some fresh croissants – quite a success – I tell you, thought I’d forgotten.
IKE. Bloody hell.
NESSA. Language, dear.
IKE. It’s the hospitable undead.
NESSA. Sit yourself down and get comfortable – the coffee is just brewing, I’ll bring it through.
KATE. Just a quick one before we shoot.
NESSA. Albin?
ALBIN. Yes.
NESSA. Coffee?
ALBIN. Thanks.
NESSA raises her eyes at him.
ALBIN smiles tightly.
NESSA exits back through to the kitchen.
IKE dusts himself down and sits with the paper.
We might as well – sit?
KATE reluctantly puts down the bags and settles in – a little awkwardly.
How the Rangers doing in the third division?
IKE. The Rangers? Of where?
ALBIN. Not to worry.
KATE. Football, Dad.
IKE. Oh, right – yes – Queen’s Park Rangers.
ALBIN. Glasgow.
IKE. They played there? This week?
ALBIN. Um –
NESSA blusters back in with coffee and croissants.
NESSA. Here we go. Milk?
