by Fin Kennedy
CARA opens the wardrobe. [Perhaps the rest of the cast could represent a large wardrobe with their dictionaries or bodies somehow.]
Still full of his clothes.
CARA takes out a large winter jumper. She pulls it over her head and puts it on. It is way too big. She hugs it to her.
Still got his smell.
CARA breathes it in. She cries.
Miss him.
She gets angry.
But hate him.
She violently pulls the jumper off.
Miss him but hate him but miss him but hate him!
She flings the jumper into the wardrobe. It dislodges a shoebox which falls out. Letters spill onto the floor. She picks them up.
What the hell –?
She reads some of them.
Oh my God.
KIRSTY enters.
KIRSTY. You alright?
CARA. Have you seen these?
KIRSTY. What are you doing in here?
CARA. Letters.
KIRSTY. Cara –
CARA. From Dad. From Dad to his clients.
KIRSTY. Look –
CARA. Tesco, Morrisons, Asda.
KIRSTY. Your dinner’s getting cold.
CARA reads one of them out.
CARA. ‘Dear Asda head office, I enclose my farm’s accounts for the last financial year. As you will see, for the third year running, it made a heavy loss, driving my business further into debt – ’
KIRSTY. Cara –
CARA. ‘Your company’s “price promise” to customers does not appear to be coming out of your profits. It is coming out of mine.’
KIRSTY. Alright, Cara, just stop.
CARA. There’s hundreds of them –
KIRSTY. It’s private.
CARA. To all the supermarkets he supplied.
KIRSTY. It’s just old work letters.
CARA. Stretching back years –
KIRSTY. You shouldn’t have read them.
CARA. He’s dead, Kirsty.
KIRSTY. Then all the more reason!
CARA. But they all say the same thing! ‘I’m struggling’, ‘You’re driving me into debt’, ‘I’ve got two daughters who want to go to university’.
KIRSTY. Farming’s hard –
CARA. Not this hard.
KIRSTY. – everyone knows that.
CARA. But this is why he did it, Kirsty! This is why he killed himself!
Pause.
KIRSTY. We don’t know that, Cara. Nobody does. That’s what happens when they don’t leave a note.
CARA (of the letters). Well, maybe this is his note.
KIRSTY. Come down. Eat your dinner.
CARA. You know what? I never want to eat again.
CARA storms off. KIRSTY flicks through the letters.
Several bedside alarms go off.
The rest of the cast come on, yawning.
ROB. I’m starving.
JAMES. Yeah, and me.
CHRIS. It’s horrible.
SAFF. Like a black hole in my belly.
SAJ. It’s only breakfast time.
KASIA. Yeah, get a grip, you’ve got all day left.
HARRIET. Why is the school canteen open?
ALL. Yeah!
ROB. Man, that is just cruel.
JAMES. It’s empty.
SAFF. It’s taunting us.
HARRIET. That is such a waste of food – who’s gonna buy it?
ROB. Anyone want any Lucozade?
SAFF. Yeah, me.
SAJ. Yeah, give us some.
JAMES. I’ll have one.
KASIA. Yeah, go on then.
HARRIET. Wait, are you selling this?
ROB. Nope. There’s a hire charge though.
KASIA. For what?
ROB. Holding the bottle.
HARRIET. That is selling it!
CHRIS. Yeah!
ROB. No it’s not, it’s a hire charge!
JAMES. What – am I gonna sick it back up? Return it?
ROB. I don’t need the Lucozade back, just the bottle.
SAJ. How much?
ROB. Quid for twenty minutes.
SAFF. Done.
HARRIET. You are so wrong.
SAFF, KASIA, SAJ and JAMES each give ROB a pound in exchange for a Lucozade.
The school bell goes. CARA slopes in quietly.
KASIA. Maths.
CHRIS. Urgh, double maths.
ROB. First thing too.
SAFF. They should just cancel everything.
SAJ. Yeah, we ain’t gonna get anything done.
They open their maths exercise books.
HARRIET. ‘A farmer has to stock his new farm and has allocated one hundred pounds to purchase livestock.’
CHRIS. Why can’t it be a vegetable farm?
SAJ. Shut up, freak.
CARA. Only one hundred pounds? That’s stupid.
HARRIET. ‘The eagerly awaited day arrives when he is able to attend market.’
CHRIS. He? What if it’s a female farmer?
CARA. Yeah.
JAMES. Right on.
HARRIET. ‘He discovers that horses cost ten pounds each.’
ROB. Only a tenner?
JAMES. In that case I’ll have two.
HARRIET. ‘Ducks are eight for one pound.’
CARA. Pfff.
SAJ. In that case I’ll have eighty.
SAFF. No one eats ducks.
SAJ. The Chinese do – fry ’em up.
HARRIET. ‘ – and sheep are one pound each.’
CARA. That’s ridiculous.
ROB. Hang on, why is everything about food?
JAMES. Yeah, are they doing this deliberately?
KASIA. I’m too hungry to think.
SAFF. I’m too thirsty.
CHRIS. It’s not about food, it’s about animals.
SAJ. Yeah, food.
CHRIS. You don’t have to eat animals. You could use them for wool, or feathers.
SAJ. Or kebabs.
JAMES/ROB/SAJ/SAFF. Mmmm, kebabs.
HARRIET. ‘Help the farmer calculate what combination of each animal he could buy to meet his target of exactly one hundred animals while spending all of his budget.’
JAMES. Easy. Seven horses, twenty sheep, eighty ducks.
KASIA. You what?
ROB. I didn’t know we had Carol Vorderman2 in class.
SAFF. Swot.
JAMES. It’s just maths. But the more important question is: what’s the profit?
HARRIET. There are other things in life too, you know.
JAMES. Yeah? Like what?
School bell.
HARRIET. English lit.
ROB. Oh, man, please not English.
HARRIET. I love English.
CHRIS. Yeah, all those books.
CARA. Gotta pick one for the exam.
JAMES. Like Water for Chocolate.
SAJ. Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit.
SAFF. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.
KASIA. Why are they all about food?!
ROB. Someone is definitely doing this deliberately!
SAFF. I am so hungry it’s not even funny.
School bell.
HARRIET. Lunchtime.
SAFF. Yo, what is the point of lunch?
ROB. Yeah, they should cancel it.
JAMES. Do a lesson instead.
SAJ. Take our minds off it.
KASIA. Yeah, I have to do something to forget this hunger.
SAFF (to ROB). Can I get another Lucozade?
ROB sells her one.
CHRIS. Dictionaries!
HARRIET. Brilliant idea!
CHRIS. Five words a day.
HARRIET. Where we up to?
CARA. G.
ALL. G G G G.
ROB. ‘Galia – a type of melon.’
JAMES. ‘Ganache – a mixture of chocolate and cream.’
CHRIS. ‘Garibaldi – biscuit with a layer of currants.’
SAFF. ‘Garlic.’
SAJ. ‘Gherkin.’
KASIA. ‘Ginger.’
HARRIET. Oh, this is torture!
They throw the dictionaries down.
Let’s talk instead.
ALL. Okay.
They all get out their smartphones and start tapping at them.
SAJ. I found a chicken.
ROB. You what?
HARRIET. I don’t wanna talk about food.
CHRIS. It isn’t food, it’s a chicken.
CARA. What d’you mean you ‘found it’?
SAJ. In my back yard.
ROB. What – of the chicken shop?
SAJ. Yeah.
CARA. What – alive?
SAJ. Yeah, it just flew in.
JAMES. A chicken flew into the back yard of your chicken shop?
SAJ. Yeah.
ROB. Was it suicidal?
SAJ. It did look a bit sad.
KASIA. Did you kill it?
SAJ. No, it’s still there.
CARA. Where?
SAJ. I put it in a box.
CHRIS. That’s cruel.
SAFF. That’s free meat.
JAMES. Yeah, what’s the profit on one chicken?
SAJ. Pfff, not nearly enough.
CARA. Leave it alone.
SAJ. What?
CARA. Whatever you do, you don’t touch that chicken. Understand?
ROB. Whoa. Easy, tiger.
HARRIET. PLEASE can we stop talking about food?
School bell.
KASIA. Oh thank God.
HARRIET. Design and technology.
JAMES. Should be safe with that.
ROB. Mock exam: food technology.
ALL. NOOOOOO!
SAFF. ‘Write a short essay describing the influence that Gordon Ramsay3 has had on the cooking and presentation of food.’
SAJ. This is a sick joke, right?
KASIA. Gordon Ramsay’s my hero.
CHRIS. He’s horrible.
HARRIET. Yeah, I hate him.
KASIA. Everyone hates chefs, that’s part of the job.
SAJ. Is that why everyone hates you?
KASIA. You should see me in the kitchen.
SAFF. ‘Include Ramsay’s opinions in relation to home cooking.’ What’s ‘home cooking’?
CHRIS. What your dad doesn’t do.
SAFF. Yo, shut up about my dad.
JAMES. I can feel a big, fat F-word coming on.4
ROB. Yeah, and it ain’t ‘food’.
HARRIET. Wait, the next one’s easier. ‘Fill in the blanks in the following sentence. “Reducing the amount of” – ’
ALL. FAT.
HARRIET. “– you consume can prevent heart-related diseases. If you reduce your intake of – ”
ALL. SUGAR.
HARRIET. “ – it can help prevent” – ’
ALL. DIABETES.
HARRIET. Very good.
SAFF. I scored zero.
HARRIET. Did you know we share sixty per cent of our DNA with a banana?
CHRIS. Really? Why?
HARRIET. I have no idea. Not even Miss Myles in science can tell me.
SAFF. What about a potato?
ROB. You share a hundred per cent DNA with that.
SAFF. Shut up.
School bell.
Oh my God I’m gonna die.
SAJ. Is that thunder?
SAFF. That’s my stomach.
JAMES. I feel sick.
CHRIS. You can eat biscuits if you feel sick.
JAMES. But what about my sponsors?
SAFF. Yeah, think of the kids, man.
A longer school bell – to signify the end of the day.
ROB. Home time!
SAFF. At last!
ALL. MUUUM?! What’s for dinner?!
They all leave, except for CARA. KIRSTY comes on with another meal.
KIRSTY. Twenty-four hours. Well done. I did your favourite.
CARA. Not hungry.
KIRSTY. You must be.
CARA. No.
KIRSTY. Car, come on. This isn’t healthy.
CARA. Who said anything about health?
KIRSTY. Alright, I get it. You’re angry. You’ve made your point. Now eat.
CARA. I haven’t even started to make my point.
CARA pushes her food away.
KIRSTY. Where you going?
CARA. Out.
CARA walks.
She gets to SAJ’s chicken shop. SAJ is at the counter wearing a hat and a uniform.
SAJ. Next! (Sees CARA.) Oh, hi.
CARA. Alright.
SAJ. You never come in here.
CARA. I don’t want your food.
SAJ. Fine, all the more for us. Next!
CARA. Does your dad make you wear that?
SAJ. If you’re not buying, can you move aside?
CARA. I’m here for my chicken.
SAJ. I thought you said –
CARA. Not dead, cooked, fried chicken. The live one. In your back yard.
SAJ. Oh, that.
CARA. It’s still there, right? You haven’t killed it?
SAJ. Nah. It’s kinda cute.
CARA. It’s my dad’s.
SAJ. How do you know that?
CARA. It escaped.
SAJ. Don’t they all look the same?
CARA. That’s racist.
SAJ. Chickens aren’t a race.
CARA. This one has a red spot – right?
SAJ.…Maybe.
CARA. It’s called an Amber White.
SAJ. You’ve given it a name?
CARA. It’s a breed. Hand it over.
SAJ. It looks more like that pop star to me. What’s-her-name. The one off The Voice.5
CARA. Just hand it over, Saj.
SAJ. Oh like I’ve got it in my back pocket.
CARA. I’ll wait.
SAJ. I’m busy. Next!
CARA. I’m not moving.
SAJ. You’re holding up the queue.
CARA. Let them wait.
SAJ. Cara, these people are hungry.
CARA. Let them wait. (Turns to queue.) You can wait a bit longer, can’t you? For your greasy, fried, dead shit.
SAJ. Oi! You can’t come in here and talk to our customers like that.
CARA (to queue). Your lifeless, battery-farmed lumps of fat.
SAJ. Don’t make me get my dad.
CARA. Go and get him.
SAJ. Cara, you’re being weird.
CARA. No, go and get him. Because it’s people like him, and places like this, which killed my dad!
SAJ. What?!
CARA runs out.
(To next customer.) Sorry about that. What can I get you? Chicken bucket? Nice choice.
CARA knocks on a door. CHRIS opens it. He is eating a celery stick dipped in a tub of hummus.
CHRIS. Oh, Cara, hi.
CARA. Put that down. We need to talk.
CHRIS. About what?
CARA. Get your phone out.
CHRIS. Why?
CARA. I want you to film me.
CHRIS. What’s this about?
CARA. A new campaign. I think you’ll like it.
CHRIS gets out his phone and opens the camera app. CARA paces.
CHRIS. What’s it about? We’re never gonna get the school canteen to go vegan, you know. Or even veggie I reckon. Did you know that the manager of the Turkey Twiglet factory in town is a school governor? My mum found that out. It’s a complete stitch-up. They’ll be sponsoring sports day next. It’s no different to McDonald’s and the Olympics.
CARA. Just hit record.
He starts recording. CARA speaks to camera.
(To camera.) My name is Cara Leary. I’m in Year Eleven at Redford Secondary. Twenty-four hours ago I stopped eating. It was a sponsored fast for Oxfam, but I’ve decided to make it last. Twelve months ago, my dad lay down on some train tracks in the middle of the night. He was a farmer. For years he’d been screwed by the big supermarkets and fast-food chains who refused to pay him a proper price for his crops.
My dad was a quiet m
an, and never spoke about this. But I’m not quiet. And this is my protest. I will not be eating again until Redford Secondary bans all snack machines on school premises. I will not be eating again until Redford Secondary uses only fairly traded UK produce in its canteen. I will not eat again until our local council clamps down on the thirty-seven fast-food outlets that exist within one square mile of our school. And I will not eat again until I get meetings with heads of all the major supermarket chains which have an outlet in our town. This fast started for charity. But charity begins at home. Join me, and help demand a living wage for UK farmers and their families. Enough is enough. The revolution starts here.
CHRIS stops filming.
CHRIS. Shit. You sure about this?
CARA. Surer then I’ve ever been.
CHRIS. It’s like a – a hunger strike.
CARA. You bet. Are you in?
CHRIS. I don’t know. I’ve just eaten some celery.
CARA. Celery doesn’t count, it’s mostly water.
CHRIS. Mum’s cooking dinner.
CARA. Tell her you don’t need it.
CHRIS. I’m starving.
CARA. So are British farmers. This is it, Chris. You talk the talk, about food, the environment, ethics. You’re an eco-warrior, you said so yourself. It’s time to step up.
CHRIS. Alright. Let’s do it. I’m in.
CARA. Thanks, mate. (Points to his phone.) We need to get that onto YouTube.
CHRIS starts to upload the film. The rest of the cast all open their laptops [maybe the dictionaries double up?] and watch the film. If a screen is available it would be nice to see a bit of it.
JAMES. Shit.
ROB. Oh my God.
SAFF. Cara, you nutter.
HARRIET. Wicked.
KASIA. She’s gonna kill herself.
SAJ. I’m gonna kill her.
They close their laptops and cluster round CARA.
HARRIET. You need to add a health angle – cheap, processed food is the leading cause of obesity and heart disease.
CHRIS. You need to talk about the environment – industrial farming causes massive pollution.
SAJ. She needs to shut up – this is such a stupid idea.
HARRIET. Why?
KASIA. Well, maybe some of us want drinks and snacks in school.
JAMES. Yeah, it’s the free market, man, you can’t stop it.
SAJ. You’ve no right to do this – those takeaways are family businesses.
ROB. Yeah, and I can sell whatever I want in the playground.
HARRIET. Oh, so you admit you’re a calorie salesman.
ROB. Calories are fine so long as you work them off.
HARRIET. We can’t all be Bradley Wiggins.6 SAJ. Hey, you know how they break a hunger strike in Guantanamo, don’t you?
SAJ/JAMES/ROB. Force-feeding!
CARA. Piss off.
The boys advance on CARA with sandwiches, crisps and chocolate bars drawn as weapons.
Get away from me!
