Canary

by Jonathan Harvey

  Billy I am Sir, yes.

  Judge An amazing admission. But Mr Lynch. I am going to do something that will surprise you now. I am going to take pity on you.

  Billy I don’t want your pity Sir. There’s nothing wrong with me.

  Judge No interrupting, please!

  Billy But there isn’t!

  Judge Silence! Or I’ll have you for contempt of court. Now. I am going to give you two options. You are not happy being a homosexualist?

  Billy I don’t like the pain it’s caused my family, no Sir. But . . .

  Judge It was a rhetorical question. And therefore I offer you this. Three years in prison. Or. You go directly from here to the Lancashire Centre for Psychiatric Treatment where you will have your disease cured.

  Billy How do they cure it?

  Judge Which is it to be?

  Billy How? I don’t want to go to prison, but . . .

  Judge Excellent. You strike me as a decent man Mr Lynch. Let’s see if we can’t make you a normal man. Recite the Lord’s Prayer five times.

  Billy I beg your pardon?

  Judge The Lord’s Prayer. Someone has to pray for your soul, man.

  Pause.

  Billy Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thine will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses.

  And he keeps praying, the set changes, bringing us to . . .

  Scene Eleven – Hospital room, 1984

  Mickey lies in a sparse hospital side room. A sign above his bed reads BARRIER NURSING. He lies in silence for a while. After a while he calls out.

  Mickey Hello?

  No response. No-one comes.

  Mickey Hello?

  Silence.

  Mickey I’d like water.

  It is hard for him to shout as his throat is sore. He continues to lie there. A Nurse comes in dressed in what looks like a space suit. Goggles, hat, gloves, mask, white coat, like something from a horror movie. She carries a tray with a glass of water on it. She walks slowly to the bed and places the tray on the floor nearby. She walks slowly away.

  Mickey I don’t bite.

  The Nurse looks back.

  Nurse You might spit at me.

  Mickey But I won’t.

  The Nurse turns and carries on walking. Mickey lies there. Eventually he tries to sit up. This action is difficult. Very slowly he sits. He can’t reach the water.

  Mickey Hello? Please. I can’t . . . Hello?

  But no-one comes.

  Blackout.

  Scene Twelve – Psychiatric hospital, 1962/Hospital, 1984

  Billy lies in an iron bed drinking a bottle of Guinness. A crate of Guinness lies beside the bed. A psychiatrist, Dr McKinnon, sits nearby in a chair.

  Billy I didn’t attack him.

  Dr McKinnon What did you do?

  Billy We made love.

  Dr McKinnon Interesting way of describing it.

  Billy If I’d attacked him would he have kissed me?

  Dr McKinnon You kiss?

  Billy Would he have sung to me?

  Dr McKinnon What other things do you do with men?

  Billy Talk?

  Dr McKinnon Sexually.

  Billy It’s private.

  Dr McKinnon D’you suck their penises? (Pause.) It’s a straightforward enough question William. Do you suck their penises?

  Billy It’s private.

  Dr McKinnon D’you want to suck my penis?

  Billy No.

  Dr McKinnon Do you become aroused when I talk about this penis business?

  Billy No.

  Dr McKinnon Sure?

  He moves and puts his hand over Billy’s crotch. Billy tenses.

  Dr McKinnon And relax.

  Billy lies back. Dr McKinnon removes his hand.

  Dr McKinnon Have another drink. Guinness. Your favourite.

  Billy Why are you letting me drink?

  Dr McKinnon The drug I administer reacts with it.

  Billy In what way? What’s gonna happen to me?

  Dr McKinnon Five minutes from now you’ll be vomiting profusely and have crippling diarrhoea. It’s all good.

  Pause.

  So. William.

  Billy Dr McKinnon. Sir. My name’s Billy.

  Dr McKinnon Billy. To cure you of your sickness we need to get to the heart of what the sickness is. So in order to do that I need you to tell me what you do with these men. You do know that if you refuse treatment you’ll be sent away. You don’t want to do that. This is for your own good. You are a dirty, filthy queer. Now you can’t change that of your own free will, but I can. I can change you Billy. Do you want to be changed?

  Billy I’m . . .

  Dr McKinnon It’ll only take a matter of days.

  Billy I’m scared.

  Dr McKinnon It’s . . . just like a visit to the dentist. Relax, Billy.

  And he approaches him and injects him.

  Dr McKinnon Have another drink, Billy. Go on, that’s right. Have a nice drink.

  Billy has a drink. And immediately feels ill.

  Dr McKinnon Okay now I want you to put the headphones on and look at the screen.

  Billy puts a pair of headphones on and looks to the screen. The lights dim. On the screen we see a slide show of various naked and semi naked men. The tape starts to play. We hear voices whispering at first, then getting louder. Its Dr McKinnon’s voice amplified and echoing. Dr McKinnon straps Billy into the bed so he can’t move.

  Dr McKinnon Dirty filthy queer. Dirty filthy queer. Dirty filthy cock sucking queer.

  Billy starts to be sick over himself.

  Billy Please can I have a bucket?

  And he is sick again.

  Dr McKinnon The screen Billy. Look at the screen.

  The voices get louder as Billy continues to be sick. He is crying now. The voices echo around us. Under it we hear Tom, singing, and he appears in shadow at the back of the stage, singing mournfully.

  Tom If you’re fond of sand dunes and salty air Quaint little villages here and there You’re bound to fall in love with old Cape Cod.

  He walks across the stage having a late night cigarette.

  Tom If you like the taste of a lobster stew Served by a window with an ocean view You’re sure to fall in love with old Cape Cod.

  Tom exits as the noises get louder and louder. Deafening. Billy’s pain growing. Dr McKinnon staring on blankly. Just then the noise stops and the lights come up on the hospital where Mickey has fallen out of bed. Russell rushes in.

  Russell Jesus, are you all right?

  Mickey Well you took your fucking time!

  Blackout.

  Act Two

  Scene One – Tom’s living room, 2010.

  Tom stands alone, the guilt about the aversion therapy weighing heavily upon him. Russell comes in, slurping from a glass of red.

  Russell I’ve just been to the loo. Your wife’s in her room. Staring into space. Curiosity got the better of me. Had a bit of a nose about. Lots of photos. On the walls. But no evidence of any . . . sordid little secrets. No pictures of him. Made your mind up yet?

  Tom Don’t judge me.

  Russell I like Melanie. She reminds me of someone.

  Tom Have you told her?

  Russell I’m going to. I have to.

  Tom You don’t know how lucky you are.

  Russell You don’t know the first thing about me.

  Tom I see you in magazines. All beaming smiles while you show us the contents of your fridge. Like we’re interested.

  Russell And do the contents of your cupboards show the extent of your existential pain, Tom? Well I guess your closet does.

  Tom It was easier for you.

  Russell Easy? In the eighties and nineties we were decimated. Oh yeah, that’s a piece of piss!

  Tom Well you did all right! And at least it was legal!

  Russell You should’ve known it was right!

  Tom So says the voice of pri
vilege. Out there in the spotlight while we were forced to hide in the shadows.

  Russell And you’re still there. What’s wrong with a bit of light? The things you’re hiding might not look so bad.

  Tom And how many people would that hurt?

  Russell Your lies have hurt me. Your lies have hurt him.

  Tom I know it was you, tipped the press off. What did you say? Tom Harris is a faggot? Nail him?

  Russell If it had been me, Mr P.C. Self Pity, I wouldn’t’ve started with that particular story.

  Tom Well you know more than you’re letting on.

  Russell I told you. I know journalists.

  Tom You know showbiz journalists, presumably. What? One of them tipped you off about a political hot potato? So you came rushing round to give me the heads up? It doesn’t make sense.

  Russell Who told the press is really not the issue here.

  Tom Or is it a form of Munchausen’s? Offering me the support so you can watch me suffer and make yourself an integral character in my little drama.

  Russell I’m not doing this for you! I’m doing this for him!

  Tom I’ve watched you rise to the top and felt an almost paternal pride. But now I’ve seen you again . . .

  Russell You’re not honouring him!

  Tom And have you never done anything you’re not proud of?

  Russell Tom! Don’t make this about me. Please. Do the right thing. For the first time.

  Tom And it’s that straightforward, is it?

  Russell despairs. The lights rise on:

  Scene Two – B and B, 1962

  Billy sits, shell shocked, on the bed of a modest B and B. Tom comes in.

  Tom The bath’s running.

  Billy Thank you.

  Tom It’s a nice B and B.

  Billy I know.

  Tom I told them I was bringing my brain damaged cousin from Ireland for a treat. Thought they wouldn’t question a double bed then.

  Billy nods. Shocked. After a while.

  Tom I was gonna get you to shuffle a bit, but . . . You seemed to do that automatically. What did they do to you in there?

  Billy It’s so quiet here. Wasn’t there. All hours of the night. Never silent. People’s fear.

  Tom I’ve not been sleeping too good either.

  Billy You stood up in a court of law and said I’d attacked you. Me, who wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. I lay for three days in my own piss and shit. That’s not the cosiest mattress in the world. You excuse me as your brain damaged brother, I’m not surprised you don’t sleep so fucking good.

  Tom You’ve changed.

  Billy I believe that was the idea.

  Tom D’you like girls now?

  Billy starts to cry. Tom moves close and hugs him.

  Billy I feel so dirty. Please can I have a bath?

  Tom Come on. Let’s get you undressed.

  Tom starts to take Billy’s clothes off.

  Billy Say nice things to me.

  Tom Like what?

  Billy What have you been up to?

  Tom Can I kiss you Billy?

  Billy After my bath.

  Tom You don’t smell.

  Billy I can smell him.

  Tom Who?

  Billy And after. We can stay here forever. And nobody need ever know.

  Tom Might be a bit of a problem. I’m getting married on Saturday.

  Pause. Billy is taken aback.

  Billy I hope you’ll be very happy together.

  Tom You always knew it’d be on the cards.

  Billy You bastard Tom!

  Tom Billy.

  Billy Bringing me here? Getting my hopes up? D’you know what? I wish I had attacked you.

  Tom Don’t say that!

  Billy Why not? It’s true. Explain to me in words of one syllable or more what’s good about my life. My future. There’s nothing.

  Tom I’d be angry if I was you. I am angry. I’d hate me.

  Billy And you know the pathetic thing? I don’t. Explain that in words of one syllable or more. So you see they were right. I did want locking up. Certifiable. I want me head testing. And guess what. It was. They stuck electrodes in my head while I looked at pictures of you. And the sickest bit of all was . . . All along, I hoped you’d be waiting for me.

  Billy heads for the bathroom. He walks with difficulty.

  Tom I’ll wash your back Billy.

  Billy Go back to Ellie, Tom. See if she’ll let you rub her back.

  Tom Please.

  Billy Leave me alone Tom. You’ve fucked me up.

  Tom You’re not gonna do anything daft are you?

  Billy Like what? Drown myself? Interesting question though, loverboy. What do I do now? Sink or swim?

  He stands at the bathroom door.

  Blackout.

  Scene Three – Private room, House of Commons, 1986

  Russell rushes on dressed as a waiter, black trousers and a dickie bow, which isn’t fastened properly. A woman follows him in, Mrs Ford. She is dressed as a waitress and is carrying a tray with canapés on it.

  Mrs Ford You’re late, Russell!

  Russell I’m sorry Mrs Ford! I won’t let it happen again!

  Mrs Ford You certainly won’t or you’ll be out on your ear.

  Russell I had to be somewhere and it took longer than I thought.

  Mrs Ford Have you been crying Mr Dowler?

  Russell No, I get hay fever.

  Mrs Ford I think men who cry are poofters. I only chose you because you’re usually so reliable and polite.

  Russell I won’t let you down, Mrs Ford.

  She hands him the tray as Margaret Thatcher and Norman Fowler enter, completely ignoring their presence. Mrs Ford scurries out, dropping a curtsy to Margaret as she goes. Margaret is reading a document. Norman waits patiently for her to finish it. The document fills her with some disgust. Russell steps forward and offers his tray to them, they ignore it.

  Margaret It is surely impossible to gain pleasure from several of these practices. If not all.

  She continues to read.

  Norman Well. The research shows . . .

  Margaret And where do you propose to display this information?

  Norman This is a press campaign Prime Minister.

  Margaret Newspapers are very public Norman.

  Norman The public is who we’re trying to reach, Prime Minister.

  Margaret Better, surely, to put this up on toilet walls. Like information about V.D.

  Norman It’s vital we reach as many people as possible.

  This is a life and death battle. And we the government can do something to determine the outcome. I don’t want people to look back in five years time and say ‘If only they’d done more in 1986’.

  Margaret Oral sex?

  She shakes her head in disbelief.

  Norman I know. I had no idea you could get it from talking dirty.

  He sniggers. She sees something in the document which turns her stomach. She wretches.

  Norman I have two messages Prime Minister. Do not inject drugs, but if you cannot stop, do not share equipment. And secondly. Stick to one sexual partner, but if you do not, use a condom.

  Margaret The wording.

  Norman Which wording, Prime Minister?

  Margaret Where to start? Condom. No. Say sheath.

  Norman Sheath?

  Margaret Yes, sheath. Do you need me to spell it for you?

  Norman No, of course not.

  Margaret I don’t like ‘anal intercourse’.

  Norman What would you prefer?

  Margaret What about ‘back passage intercourse’?

  Pause. Eventually Norman takes up a pen and makes notes.

  Norman Back passage . . .

  Margaret No. Even better. Rectal sex. Is this really necessary?

  Norman The people we are trying to speak to indulge in these bizarre behaviours. And . . . rectal sex spreads the virus more than sex in the vagina.

  And he pronounces vagina wrong. Ma
rgaret takes a canapé off Russell’s tray.

  Norman The membranes in the rectum are thinner, therefore more easy to tear.

  Margaret Thank you Norman.

  Norman Whereas in the vagina . . .

  And he pronounced it wrong again.

  Margaret Norman please. I’m eating.

  Norman I’m sorry.

  Margaret And you would do very well to remember you are more than just the Minister for AIDS.

  Norman I would rather have some people offended by our content than many people dying. We’re acting for the public good.

  Margaret Will that be all Norman?

  Russell Ma’am? Ma’am? . . .

  Margaret looks to him. He wants to say something. He struggles, but then bottles it.

  Russell Another canapé Ma’am?

  Margaret No.

  Norman Can we hurry this campaign up? Something like this usually takes two, maybe three months to organise, but in that time I dread to think how many deaths we’ll have . . .

  Margaret Perspective, Norman. This is not a big problem. People who get AIDS. It is entirely their fault. Their responsibility, their choice. Let’s not lose too much sleep over them.

  Norman I disagree.

  Margaret You are wrong. People today are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay. We must stop this.

  Norman So you won’t hurry the campaign up?

  Margaret No.

  Norman Thank you, Prime Minister.

  And she heads for the door. She stops and turns back.

  Margaret Oh and Norman.

  Norman Prime Minister?

  Margaret It’s vagina.

  He exits. Margaret becomes aware of Russell’s hand shaking the tray of canapés.

  Blackout.