by Fin Kennedy
JAMES. Open wide!
CHRIS. This is serious!
Only SAFF is quiet, standing away from the throng. She reads a medical pamphlet. MISS CHILCOTT enters.
MISS CHILCOTT. Alright, that’s enough! Get out of here, all of you. Cara, Chris: my office, now.
MISS CHILCOTT’s office. CARA and CHRIS stand sulkily.
Do you want to tell me what all this is about?
CHRIS. It’s all in the video.
MISS CHILCOTT. Yes, which is going round the entire school. Do you want to put our students in danger?
CARA. What’s dangerous?
MISS CHILCOTT. Exams are coming up, people are trying to revise.
CARA. They can drink energy drinks.
MISS CHILCOTT. Full of caffeine, which puts stress on the heart.
CARA. Ginger beer then. Ginger’s a natural stimulant.
CHRIS. Actually, ginger beer is eighty per cent sugar, Cara.
CARA. No one has to fast with me.
MISS CHILCOTT. You’re encouraging them to.
CARA. People can think for themselves.
MISS CHILCOTT. You’re the oldest in the school now, Cara. Younger students look up to you.
CHRIS. You’re the ones who started it all with this fast.
MISS CHILCOTT. For charity, Chris, not for this.
CHRIS. What’s the difference?
MISS CHILCOTT. In fact, Chris, could you wait outside?
CHRIS sighs and leaves.
Look. I know this is about your dad. We’re all really, really sorry. You’re grieving. It’s understandable. But he wouldn’t have wanted this.
CARA. How do you know what he would’ve wanted?
MISS CHILCOTT. Cara, we will support you in every way we can to get through this difficult period in your life. But if you choose to harm yourself then that’s a different matter.
CARA. I’m not harming myself.
MISS CHILCOTT. That’s what a hunger strike is.
CARA. I’ll tell you what’s harmful. Industrial farming. Low-cost, high-calorie food that strangles farmers and slowly kills consumers. Thirty-seven fast-food outlets within one mile of school, snack machines in every school corridor –
MISS CHILCOTT. We’ve banned fizzy drinks.
CARA. And what about the crisps, chocolate, biscuits – right by the tills in the school canteen?
MISS CHILCOTT. Alright, we can look at that.
CARA. Really? How?
MISS CHILCOTT. How about instead of starving yourself, you get a petition together. See how many signatures you can gather. I’ll take it to the school governors.
CARA. Too long.
MISS CHILCOTT. What’s the hurry?
CARA. I’m fasting.
MISS CHILCOTT. Then stop.
CARA. Remove the snack machines.
MISS CHILCOTT. How about we reduce their number?
CARA. All of them. Now.
MISS CHILCOTT. I’ll take a proposal to the governors to remove half.
CARA. All of them.
MISS CHILCOTT. Two-thirds.
CARA. You can keep one.
MISS CHILCOTT. Will you start eating again?
CARA. I’ll need to talk to my campaign manager.
MISS CHILCOTT. Cara –
CARA. There’s also the canteen menu.
MISS CHILCOTT. That’s a whole different matter.
CARA. Did you know that Comida Limited, who provide our school meals, is part of the biggest industrial-farming corporation in Europe?
School bells go.
MISS CHILCOTT. It’s lunchtime. I have a staff meeting. Go and eat something.
MISS CHILCOTT goes. CHRIS is waiting.
CHRIS. How’d it go?
CARA. We’ve got the power. We just need a few more of us.
HARRIET comes over.
HARRIET. I’m in.
CHRIS. Wicked.
CARA. Nice one, Harriet.
HARRIET. My mum’s a nurse, she sees the effects of this all the time. Obesity costs billions.
CHRIS. Yeah, and it’s the public picks up the tab, never McDonald’s.
CARA. We need to write a manifesto.
HARRIET. Great idea.
CARA. And a list of demands.
CHRIS. I’ll get onto it.
CARA. You should’ve seen Miss Chilcott’s face. I reckon we can push her for more.
HARRIET. More what?
CHRIS. Remove chips from the canteen.
CARA. Yeah, proper prices paid for quality ingredients from British farmers.
CHRIS. Organic fruit at break times.
CARA. Home economics back on the curriculum.
CHRIS. Round up the playground snack-dealers.
HARRIET. Where does it all end?
CARA. I’m only just getting started. It’s the council next.
HARRIET. School council?
CARA. Town council. We need to access the corridors of power.
SAFF comes over, clutching her leaflet. She looks a bit in shock.
CHRIS. Hey, Saff, are you in on this hunger strike?
SAFF. I’ve got diabetes.
CHRIS. What?
CARA. Shit, man.
SAFF. I’ve just found out.
HARRIET. Oh, Saff.
SAFF. I fainted yesterday. Went to the doctor. I’ve gotta have tests, but I’ve got all the symptoms: fruity breath, constantly thirsty, fainting…
CARA. Can you still fast?
HARRIET. Cara!
CARA. What?
HARRIET. It might not be safe.
SAFF. I’ll check. But I will if I can. Gotta lose weight anyway now, haven’t I? I can’t believe this…
HARRIET. It’s not your fault.
SAFF. I know. It’s the fast-food companies innit. All that junk they put in.
CHRIS. That’s right.
HARRIET. Well… it is lifestyle too, Saff.
CHRIS. Harriet.
HARRIET. Sorry, but it’s true. Lack of exercise is just as important.
SAFF. Yeah. I know.
HARRIET. See?
CHRIS. But –
HARRIET. Someone’s gotta say it, Chris.
SAFF. I know, I gotta sort it out. I don’t wanna die.
CHRIS. Hey, you’re not gonna die.
CARA. We’re all gonna die.
CHRIS. Alright, Grim Reaper, you know what I mean.
SAFF. Anyway, count me in.
CARA. Good girl.
HARRIET. Yeah.
CHRIS. I’ll teach you some recipes if you like.
CARA. I hope you like celery.
CHRIS. And yoga.
SAFF. I’ll – I’ll give it a try.
HARRIET. And I’ll help with the medical stuff. Look it over.
SAFF. Aw, I love you guys.
SAFF cries. The others comfort her. ROB enters.
ROB. What’s the matter – canteen run out of chips?
CARA/CHRIS/HARRIET. Shut up, Rob.
CHRIS takes out his phone and presses record. CARA, HARRIET and SAFF line up in front of it. HARRIET distributes some banners. They say things like:
‘Tescos: Pulling a Fast One.’
‘Fasting against Fast Food.’
‘Fasting for Farmers.’
ROB, JAMES, KASIA and SAJ gather to watch them. They are not impressed.
CHRIS (Geordie accent, to camera). Day two.
CARA. It’s not Big Brother.
CHRIS. Sorry. (Without accent.) Day two.
CARA. Actually it’s day three for me, if you count the original twenty-four hours for Oxfam.
SAFF. I had a burger that night.
HARRIET. Yeah, that resets the clock.
CHRIS. Day two slash three. The hunger strikers are now four in number.
CARA. We’ve still touched nothing but water and orange juice.
HARRIET. Feeling a bit sick actually.
CHRIS. Yeah, weird feeling in my guts.
SAFF. Yeah, stomach cramps and acid burps.
HARRIET. T
oo much information.
CARA. But we’re hanging in there.
CHRIS/SAFF/HARRIET. Yeah.
CHRIS. Join us on Facebook.
HARRIET. Group name: ‘Pulling a Fast One.’
CHRIS. Follow us on Twitter.
CARA. Hashtag: Fast.
CHRIS. View our protest banners on Tumblr.
SAFF. And join us at lunchtime every day this week outside –
CHRIS/SAFF/HARRIET/CARA. Tesco on the high street.
SAFF. For some plate-smashing action.
HARRIET. One for every meal we’ve missed.
They each smash a plate on the floor.7
CHRIS. Right, these are our demands.
CARA. We want a meeting with the local council.
CHRIS. And with the heads of Tesco.
HARRIET. And Morrisons.
CARA. And Sainsbury’s.
SAFF. And Asda.
CHRIS. And Waitrose.
HARRIET. I thought Waitrose was alright?
CARA. Yeah, they charge more so they pay more to farmers.
SAFF. Anyway, whatever.
CHRIS. Demand one: the local council converts all spare land to vegetable patches.
HARRIET. Demand two: free cookery classes in all schools and community centres.
SAFF. Demand three: fast food to have warnings on it, like cigarettes, with all massive fat people on it.
CARA. Demand four: all supermarkets to publish the percentage which goes to the farmer next to the price of every product.
JAMES. This is bullshit.
ROB/SAJ. Yeah.
CARA. What?
JAMES. You’re a bunch of do-gooders.
CHRIS. What’s wrong with that?
KASIA. Telling everyone else what to do.
HARRIET. Why don’t you join us rather than sniping from the sidelines?
JAMES. Because you haven’t got a clue.
CARA. About what?
JAMES. About anything.
CARA. I know about farming.
HARRIET. I know about the NHS – my mum’s a nurse.
SAFF. Yeah, and I know about diabetes.
CHRIS. I know about the environment.
ROB. So?
CARA. So which part of that is ‘bullshit’?
SAJ. All of it.
JAMES. Yeah, people want it.
CARA/HARRIET/CHRIS. So?
JAMES. So give it to them.
CARA. They shouldn’t be able to have it.
CHRIS. Yeah.
ROB. Oh, what, you’re gonna ban fast food?
CHRIS. We ban drugs.
JAMES. This is nothing like drugs.
HARRIET. Why? They both cause harm.
ROB. So do booze and fags.
HARRIET. Yes, and we should ban those.
KASIA. Would you listen to yourselves?
JAMES. Worthies.
ROB. Food fascists.
KASIA. Who are you to tell us what to do?
CARA. Kasia, you work in a grocer’s.
KASIA. Yeah, an affordable one.
CHRIS. Don’t you care about pesticides and air miles?
KASIA. Not really.
HARRIET. But you wanna be a chef!
KASIA. So?
HARRIET. So don’t you wanna cook healthy food?
KASIA. I’ll cook whatever people pay me to cook.
CHRIS. Well, someone’s got to take a stand.
ROB. You can afford to.
HARRIET. What’s that supposed to mean?
ROB. ‘Waitrose is fine’ – Jesus.
CHRIS. Waitrose is fine.
ROB. Waitrose costs three times the money!
KASIA. You’re a bunch of rich kids.
JAMES. Yeah, some people can’t afford proper food.
SAFF. I’m not rich.
ROB. No, you’re easily led.
SAFF. Piss off.
CHRIS. Anyway, vegetables are cheap.
ROB. Not from Waitrose they ain’t.
JAMES. But veg doesn’t fill you up.
CHRIS. Yeah it does.
ROB. Yeah, if you’re a scrawny vegan.
CHRIS. Shut up.
SAJ. Real men eat meat.
CHRIS. Real men care about the planet.
JAMES. I care about the planet – about how much money I can make out of it.
ROB. If you work two jobs, like my mum, there ain’t no time to cook!
CARA. You could cook!
ROB. I’m a bloke!
JAMES. It’s about freedom!
KASIA. That’s right!
JAMES. People are free to do what they like to their bodies – it’s no one else’s business!
HARRIET. It is if costs us all money!
ROB. How does it do that?
HARRIET. Through the NHS!
CARA. Yeah, we all pay for that through our taxes!
JAMES. Then so do all the fat people!
ROB. Yeah, they’re entitled to the treatment they’ve paid for!
Everyone shouts at once.
CLAIRE BAINES enters.
CLAIRE. Excuse me!
The shouting stops.
Which one of you is Cara Leary?
CARA. That’s me.
CLAIRE. Could I have a word?
The others leave. CLAIRE holds out her hand.
Claire Baines. I’m from the Herald. I’ve heard about your campaign. Can I ask you a few questions?
CLAIRE takes out a voice recorder.
CARA. Sure. What do you want to know?
CLAIRE. Why don’t we start at the start?
CARA. Alright. It started with these. Letters from my dad.
CARA takes out the letters from her dad.
We segue into another scene: CLAIRE exits and KIRSTY enters, reading from an open copy of the Herald.
KIRSTY. ‘Local school student Cara Leary is a girl on a mission. Inspired by a twenty-four-hour charity fast at school, the sixteen-year-old has vowed not to eat again until the heads of Tesco and the local council meet with her. The campaign is a bid to draw attention to the effect on British farmers of a decade of supermarket price wars, which Leary blames for driving her late father into a spiral of debt which eventually resulted in his suicide – as evidenced by a moving collection of letters which she showed our reporter.’
KIRSTY throws the paper at CARA.
Those letters were private!
CARA. They’re evidence.
KIRSTY. You should never have taken them out of his room.
CARA. People have to know.
KIRSTY. Mum’s gonna kill you.
CARA. Mum doesn’t even notice us any more, Kirsty.
KIRSTY. That’s not true.
CARA. Yeah it is. This family’s falling apart.
KIRSTY. Well, you’re not helping!
CARA. And there’s nothing either of us can do to stop it.
KIRSTY. Your dinner’s in the dog.
CARA. Good. I’m fasting, aren’t I?
KIRSTY storms out.
CHRIS enters.
CHRIS. Um, Cara? Someone called Juliette Hancock just rang.
CARA. Who’s that?
CHRIS. A local councillor. She said she’s standing for election.
She wants to talk to you.
JULIETTE HANCOCK bustles in, holding two takeaway coffees.
She talks very fast.
JULIETTE. Ah, you must be Cara, good good, come in, come in. I’ve heard all about your campaign, it’s excellent, really excellent, as is your timing.
CARA. Really?
JULIETTE. Yes, elections are coming up, don’t you read the papers? I’ve won the past three and been a major part of this borough’s decision-making for the best part of a decade, I’ve always got my ear to the ground for local issues.
CARA. Oh, I see.
JULIETTE. Coffee?
CARA. Er, no thanks.
JULIETTE. Good for you, filthy habit, makes you smell. I drink ten cups a day.
JULIETTE downs one of the coffees and starts drinking the
other.
CARA. Right, er –
JULIETTE. So, you and I have a lot to offer each other. You’re absolutely right that there’s far too many fast-food outlets in this town, far too many, especially around the schools, and with obesity out of control, something needs to be done. Well, I’ve decided that I’m the one to do it.
CARA. Right, great, but this is also about Tescos and what they pay farmers –
JULIETTE. Of course it is, of course it is, but Tescos are also a major local employer, we have to remember that.
CARA. Oh.
JULIETTE. Whereas the fast-food outlets, what do they do for us? Not much, I can tell you. They stink out the town, make us all fat, leave their rubbish and grease all over the pavements, only employ immigrants and attract nothing but drunks. Something needs to be done.
CARA. What about Tesco?
JULIETTE. One step at a time.
CARA. Right.
JULIETTE. Let’s deal with the manageable problem first, shall we? Now. I’ll back your campaign and pledge to enact new by-laws if you’ll publicly endorse my stand for re-election.
CARA. What does that mean?
JULIETTE. Just a few photos, standing next to me outside some chicken and kebab shops –
JULIETTE poses next to CARA, someone takes a photo. Perhaps it could appear on a screen somewhere.
– thumbs up, big smile – and maybe a quote for my leaflets.
CARA. Er, okay.
Someone takes notes while JULIETTE dictates.
JULIETTE. ‘I’m thrilled to have the support of highly respected local councillor Juliette Hancock, in my campaign – our campaign – to clamp down on the scurrilous scourge of the purveyors of junk food in our local area. Cease the Grease!’
CARA. Actually the campaign slogan is ‘Pulling a Fast One’ –
JULIETTE. Tell you what, I could bring my team to your family’s farm, have some shots taken in the fields, maybe digging a hole, planting some trees –
Someone hands JULIETTE a spade, she poses for another photo.
– yes, the farming community are very politically active.
CARA. My farm grows vegetables, not trees –
JULIETTE. Fantastic, fantastic, so we have a deal?
JULIETTE holds out her hand. More photos.
CARA. Erm, alright, I think so.
JULIETTE. Marvellous! Right, I’m off to open a community centre then got a road protest on the bypass at three followed by a maternity-ward photo shoot and a ‘best-kept pub garden’ award, got to dash!
JULIETTE goes.
The others enter all holding one of JULIETTE’s campaign leaflets with JULIETTE and CARA featured on the front, along with the slogan ‘Cease the Grease’.
CHRIS. They’re wheeling away the snack machines.
HARRIET. Hurrah!
SAFF. The canteen’s stopped doing chips.
