Brownbread & War

by Roddy Doyle

  The music stops just long enough for them to shout. Sandra tries to look and go in three directions, almost as if she’s been shot by three bullets, Ithen exits.

  The teams relax. The three girls stand, put their bags under their right arms and troop over to the Ladies; Niamh, then Lorraine, then Yvonne. Dermot comes out of the Gents. Niamh and Lorraine turn their faces from him as they go into the Ladies: Yvonne doesn‘t: she stares right up into his face. Sandra flies out of the Gents, still holding her tray. She looks around perplexed; and charges back in. Bertie’s and George’s teams, always aware of one another’s proximity, unwind.

  They stand up, stretch, rub their eyes, adjust their crotches (including Angela). George, Features and Martin look around furtively, and chance a fart, and move away from the scene of the crimes. Tommy goes to the Gents and Angela goes to the Ladies; both in a hurry. The girls troop out of the Ladies, in file and go to the bar, ignoring Dermot. Yvonne makes faces at him and sticks her tongue out at him when the others aren’t looking. Dermot hides behind his glass and, when he decides to chance a flirtatious look back at Yvonne, Niamh looks around and nearly catches him. The girls point out exotic bottles to Leo who pours some of each into his cocktail shaker; then into a bucket as they point to more and more bottles. There is a big umbrella and three huge straws in the bucket. Leo does his Tom Cruise routine in front of the girls. The girls drink, and admire Leo’s performance; Yvonne looking back at Dermot all the time. Dermot looks back; pouting, licking his lips, arching his eyebrows, running his hand through his hair. George, strutting like Foghorn Leghorn, leads his team into the Gents. Bertie goes over to George’s table. He unscrews George’s biro and takes out the cartridge and pockets it. Tommy is coming out of the Gents when George is going in. George shoves Tommy back in, and Features and Martin follow them.

  Angela comes out of the Ladies, zipping up her fly, and catches Leo strutting his barperson stuff in front of the girls. He immediately becomes business-like. Niamh turns, and catches Dermot opening the top buttons of his shirt and Yvonne lifting her arm and clenched fist, showing Dermot what she’s going to do to him. Niamh and Yvonne are about to fight, when all the characters onstage stop and stare at the Gents door.

  Bertie strides over to the Gents, and in; holding his pint. First Features, trying to put his vest, shirt, jumper and jacket into his trousers; then Martin, fly out, as if thrown out. Tommy follows, trying to put his tie back into its proper position, and flattening down his hair; looking as if he’s been in a fight. All watch the Gents door, and listen. The door opens and George comes out slowly, back first; followed by Bertie; forehead to forehead; Bertie still holding his pint. Moving carefully, their foreheads stuck, they go to centre stage. Bertie’s face is solid. George’s isn’t quite as sure. Leo comes from behind the counter and becomes a boxing referee. A microphone is lowered and Leo introduces the contestants. The teams become the seconds. Bertie and George take off their jackets; George looking less happy behind a brave face. Without looking back Bertie holds his glass behind him. Sandra, going by with a tray of empty glasses, inverts the tray (the glasses stay on upside-down) and collects Bertie’s glass just as Bertie drops it. Bertie and George are ready to start fighting when Denis announces the beginning of the next round.

  Denis (indignant) Round Eight.

  There is a mad rush to the tables, and the three teams sit, braced.

  Denis (heard over the music) The scores after Round Seven are as follows: Table 38 have twenty-seven points. Table 36 have thirty points an‘, in the lead an’ out on their own, Table 37 with thirty-one points.

  Sandra, a very reluctant ‘Sale of the Century’-style hostess, stands behind each team and holds up scoreboards as Denis announces the latest scores. Yvonne’s team looks unhappy with its score, and one another. Bertie’s team looks aggressively satisfied with its score. But their expressions change when they see George’s score. George rallies his troops.

  Round Eight begins fast. Denis asks a short question, and the teams huddle. George can’t get his pen to work. He holds it up and looks up into it, and shakes it; and tries again, and curses it. Denis asks the second question. Features gives George a biro. The pace gets faster and faster. The teams argue, nod, shake their heads, stand up, sit back down as if they are having fits. Leo gradually disappears behind the counter. Sandra stands with a full tray and looks as if volts of electricity are going through her. Then the music halts, and—

  Bertie (getting out of his seat) No way!

  (Asking for fair play.) Hey, compadre —.

  Denis I said, ‘Domestic rabbit’.

  This is a dispute about the answer to the question: What is the world’s largest domestic rabbit? The others are gasping for breath after their exertions in Round Eight. Lorraine lifts her arms a bit to let the air get at the sweat. Martin leans over, afraid that he’s going to get sick. Sandra has to put her tray on the counter.

  George (to Bertie, but not too emphatically) Sit down.

  Denis is about to continue.

  Bertie (ready to draw) Don’t move, Denis!

  George Sit down ou’ o’ tha’.

  Martin (recovering) It’s fuckin’ disgraceful.

  Bertie What’s wrong with our answer?

  Denis (not going to be bullied) I said ‘Domestic rabbit’.

  Bertie (‘so what’ style) Yeah?

  Features (almost apologetic) The Polish Lop is a wild rabbit, Bertie.

  George Course, it is.

  Angela There’s no such thing.

  Denis (repeating the answer; slowly) The British Giant is the largest known domestic rabbit.

  George Course, it is.

  Features and Martin both agree, and so does Yvonne.

  Yvonne Yeah.

  Bertie Come here, Denis —.

  Noel Domestic, me arse.

  Martin Don’t listen to him, Denis.

  Niamh is annoyed and worried that Dermot won’t look at her.

  Bertie Denis. Say if yeh caught a wild rabbit, a Polish Lop say; and yeh trained it —.

  Lorraine Ah, this is thick.

  George Sit down.

  Bertie Yeh trained it. A leetle one, righ’. A bambino. Yeh trained the wild rabbit. What would it be then?

  Angela That’s righ’.

  Features (quietly, to Martin) He has a point.

  Martin (outraged) Why don’t yeh sit over there then!?

  Features shrugs.

  Bertie Well, Denis?

  Denis (ignoring Bertie; giving the answer to the next question) Father Damien lived among the lepers.

  George (aggressively pleased) Yes!

  Bertie Fuck the lepers. Wha’ abou’ my rabbit?

  Angela There’s no such thing as a wild rabbit. Would a rabbit bite yeh, would it?

  Yvonne It’d bite you.

  Angela Go home to bed, you.

  Yvonne (not quite under her breath; turning her back) Dirt-bird.

  Angela (beginning to get up) What did she —!?

  George is going to block her way. Bertie stops her.

  Bertie (quietly) Get her in the jacks after.

  Angela sits down.

  Yvonne (loudly quiet) No wonder her husband left her.

  Lorraine (expecting murder) Oh Jesus!

  Niamh That’s not righ’, Yvonne.

  Yvonne Ah fuck off, Niamh, will yeh.

  Yvonne raises her eyes to heaven, to Dermot; as if expecting him to agree with her. Dermot stares straight ahead.

  Bertie (sounding quietly threatening) I’d say a tamed wild rabbit was a domestic rabbit. I’d say annyway. Wha’ would you say, Denis?

  Noel He’s a domestic rabbit.

  Leo enters. He points at Noel.

  Leo You’re barred.

  Noel looks like a player being sent off. Bertie goes back to his seat, slowly. Leo watches him move, ready to bar him.

  Bertie (trying blackmail) Remember that video, Denis?

  Leo (to Bertie) You’re —

  Bertie (sitt
ing down) Alrigh‘, alrigh’.

  Denis looks ghastly after Bertie mentions the video. He looks hurt, caught, guilty, outraged, defeated.

  Denis (a shake in his voice; to himself) Never again—.

  Features (whispers) He always says that.

  Noel (amused; surprised) Did yeh flog it to him?

  Bertie (tapping his finger on his nose) Sil-ence, compadre.

  Denis (after coughing) An’, Question Number Five. Gammon comes from the hind legs of the pig.

  The three teams are satisfied with that answer.

  Denis I needed ‘hind’ there.

  Lorraine (protesting) Ah!

  Yvonne (at the same time) Ah!

  Leo points at them. They fume, but say nothing. Lorraine loses interest first. The team is falling apart. Leo goes back behind the bar.

  Denis Righ’. We’ll go straight into Round Nine, the second last round. —Thank God.

  Features Ah Denis.

  Denis Table number 37 are now two points ahead of —

  George congratulates and motivates his team. Martin is beginning to look very uncomfortable, but he soldiers on. Bertie’s team looks across enviously and contemptuously. Bertie’s hiss is extra-long.

  Denis —Table number 11 and Table number 36. Right, eh — George It’s our night, lads. Come on.

  Denis is having difficulty summoning the will to carry on.

  George (to Yvonne’s team; very loud; unable to resist gloating) Did I tell yis I was bitten by a rabbit on me way to work this mornin’?

  Yvonne in particular is amused. Niamh doesn’t even smile. Enter Gary, sobered up, tired and miserable. He plonks down in his chair and studies the floor.

  George (pointing at Gary) He’s not gettin’ a kettle, righ’.

  Noel Hey, Leo. Am I still barred?

  Leo (more interested in Denis) Your sentence starts at midnight. Noel Righ’. Sandra; four pints.

  Sandra (on her way offstage) I’m busy.

  George (re Denis; looking around) What’s keepin’ him?

  Gradually, all turn to see what’s wrong with Denis.

  Leo (quietly) Denis?

  Denis is slumped on his stool; unable to go on.

  Leo (very sympathetic; coming out from behind the counter) Ah now —.

  Niamh (whispering; to Dermot) You’re lookin’ at her all the time? Dermot (sounding ’wronged‘) I’m not.

  Yvonne Yes, you are. An’ I don’t blame yeh.

  A furious whispered row starts; Dermot trying to calm Niamh, then giving up.

  Features is earwigging, but keeping an eye on George as well.

  George Our minds’ll go cold if we don’t get goin’ soon. — Denis!

  (To Features.) ‘Jane Eyre’?

  Features Eh, — Charlotte — ? — Bronte.

  George (turning back to look at Denis) Yeah. —sound.

  Leo holds Denis’s shoulders and tries to get him to look up.

  Leo Are you alright, Denis?

  George (to Features) Is he havin’ a heart-attack or somethin’? Martin (very sorry for himself) Think I am.

  Denis tries to look at his index cards, but—

  Denis —I’ve had it, Leo.

  Leo (very sympathetic) —A—.

  Denis I can’t — I—.

  Leo Would yeh like a bit of a rest, Denis?

  Denis They have no idea how much —

  (Answering Leo’s question.) Yeah —Yes.

  Leo takes the index cards from Denis.

  Denis (reluctant to give up cards) You mightn’t be able to —

  Leo You listen now, and make sure I do it right.

  Denis nods his agreement.

  Noel (to all, including George’s team) What’s happenin’?

  Bertie looks across at George, and is cold-shouldered. He smiles gremly. Leo goes back behind the counter, puts the cards in front of the taps and pours pints as he asks the questions. He places the microphone in front of the taps.

  Leo (studying the cards) — Now —.

  Briget exits carrying the ironed clothes very carefully.

  Leo (into the microphone) Now, — Round Nine. —Denis is taking a short commercial break so —now; Number One —.

  George (concerned about Denis) Is he alrigh’?

  Leo Ah, he is.

  Niamh (to Dermot) She’s just —.

  (To Yvonne.) You’re just tryin’ to move in on him. You’re just jeal —

  Yvonne I did already, an’ I didn’t have to try.

  Niamh looks lost.

  Yvonne At the party, yeh simple-head yeh.

  Niamh’s face crumples for a second, then looks furious; but there’s uncertainty there too.

  Leo Oh, and it’s a good one alright.

  (Looking at the answer on the back of the card.) You’ll never get it now. What country has 1.5 million registered footballers?

  (To Denis.) That was a powerful one, Denis.

  Denis doesn’t react. He’s slumped on his stool.

  Niamh (while Leo speaks; looking from Yvonne to Dermot, and staying on him; angry) —Did —? —.

  Yvonne We wore the faces off each other.

  (To Dermot; daring him to contradict her.) Didn’t we?

  Lorraine doesn’t know where to look. Bertie’s and George’s teams huddle.

  Noel (coming up for air; to Leo) Is tha’ soccer footballers?

  Leo Oh, —now.

  Denis nods listlessly.

  Leo Soccer; soccer.

  Denis drags himself to the Gents.

  Niamh (standing up; grabbing at her bag but missing) You’re a slut, Yvonne Finnegan.

  Yvonne D’yeh think so, Niamh?

  George (to Features and Martin) Brazil?

  George sees that Features is more interested in what’s going on at Yvonne’s table.

  George When you’re finished watchin’ ‘Coro-fuckin‘-nation Street’ yeh can give us a hand here.

  Features (snared) Wha’? —eh, —I wasn’t —.

  George Yes, yeh were, yeh brasser. Italy?

  They huddle.

  Niamh (still trying to pick up her bag; getting more angry) You’re a fuckin’ tramp. A dirt-bird. I always said it. Didn’t I, Lorraine?

  Lorraine (a bit guilty) I don’t know!

  Some things have spilled out of Niamh’s bag.

  Angela Tha’ place; China.

  Bertie Si!

  Noel Excellent.

  Leo Number Two —.

  Features Mexico.

  Martin No; Brazil.

  Gary I’d say China.

  George Would yeh? Fuck off.

  Features He might —

  George Fuck’m.

  Yvonne I never wanked Ju Ju Lips Redmond behind the clinic. Did I, Lorraine?

  Lorraine (embarrassed) Lay off, will yeh.

  Dermot (half standing up; embarrassed and angry) Take it easy.

  George (writing) Brazil. Has to be. They do fuck all else over there.

  Leo Oh, it’s a holy one. You haven’t a hope.

  Niamh (ready to go; to Dermot) Are yeh comin’, Dermot?

  Yvonne Wha’? Behind the clinic?

  Niamh looks ready to jump on Yvonne. Yvonne holds her glass.

  Leo Who is the Patron Saint —

  The teams sit up: they’re good at these ones.

  Niamh (to Dermot; his last chance) Are yeh?

  Dermot hesitates. Yvonne shrugs.

  Dermot (sitting; not looking at Niamh) No.

  Niamh (going) Righ’.

  Yvonne See yeh.

  Leo —of the Postal Workers?

  Gary scoffs.

  Niamh (just before exiting; roars; nearly crying) You’re a fuckin’ bastard, Dermot Montgomery!

  Leo Now!

  Angela (casually; as if she might have known) Yvonne.

  Lorraine (scarlet) Jesus.

  Exit Niamh, and comes back immediately. The others look to see who the bastard is; then get back to business. Niamh looks undecided, contrite; as if she’s hoping Dermot will
change his mind; but it’s pointless. She exits, running.

  Tommy Saint Gabriel.

  Features (at the same time) Gabriel.

  Both teams are pleased with the answer, and wait for the next. George looks around at Yvonne’s table.

  George How yis doin’, love?

  Yvonne Useless. Aren’t we?

  Dermot —Eh—.

  Leo Number Three —.

  Yvonne Daddy, this is Dermot.

  George Howyeh.

  Dermot is lost; stunned. When Leo starts the question George turns away from Yvonne and Dermot.

  George See yis.

  Leo What nationality is Rolf Harris?

  Features (not trusting it) That’s easy.

  George It can’t be.

  Yvonne and Lorraine aren’t bothering with the quiz any more. They get a fit of the giggles. Dermot has his head in his hands.

  Lorraine (beginning to seem drunker than the others) Ah, it’s not funny though.

  Bertie Hey, Leo?

  Martin (starting to object) Here —.

  George (to Martin; wanting to hear) Hang on.

  Bertie Por favor; do yeh mean wha’ country your man Harris was born in?

  Leo Oh, I’d say so now.

  Bertie Yeh don’t know for definite but.

  Leo (into the microphone) Sandra. Come here now. Do you read me, Sandra?

  Noel (while Leo speaks) You’d want to find ou’, Leo.

  Enter Sandra, dashing and embarrassed.

  Sandra Wha’!?