Staying Alive

Scene One

Mary’s house – December 2010

An open-plan kitchen/lounge, usually well kept (denoted by the decor) but currently in a state of disarray. Files and piles of paper cover the coffee table; a stack of ‘Order of Service’ programmes are piled on the floor… some folded but mostly not; scissors, sellotape and various gift boxes and wrapping paper adorn the kitchen table; scattered at intervals are dirty mugs, bowls and plates, as if meals have been systematically eaten and the vestiges left for some time. Strung up around the lounge area and on the sideboard are birthday cards for a young boy. JENN packs away the wrapping paper and moves the used crockery from the kitchen table to the sink. She goes to the coffee table and picks up two plates and takes them to the sink. She returns to the lounge area and picks up one of the birthday cards.

JENN. These cards?

MARY enters, wearing funeral attire.

MARY. Leave them.

JENN. Really?

MARY. I want to keep them.

JENN. Yes but… up?

MARY. Yes. For now. Yes.

MARY goes into the kitchen area and fills the kettle.

JENN. This stuff?

MARY. Tea? What stuff?

JENN. I’ll do that.

JENN indicates the tea.

MARY. It’s fine. What stuff?

JENN indicates the pile of ‘Order of Service’ programmes.

Oh right… I’m not… I don’t… know… look, can we just have some tea.

JENN. Of course. Anything. It’s anything you want.

MARY. I want to have tea.

JENN. Okay. You sit. And I’ll do it.

MARY sits. The phone rings. They look at it. It rings out.

MARY stands and picks up the car keys.

Where –

MARY. There’s some cake in the car.

JENN. I’ll get it.

MARY exits. The front door can be heard closing. JENN makes the tea. She takes out the sugar but cannot find a spoon. She looks in several drawers. She opens a drawer to find a plastic spoon suitable for a child. She takes it out and looks at it for an unusual amount of time. The phone rings. The front door can be heard opening. JENN puts the spoon back. She puts the sugar away. The phone rings out. MARY re-enters carrying two identical arrangements of funeral flowers.

MARY. Do you want some of these?

JENN. The flowers?

MARY. There are loads.

JENN. I can take them for you.

MARY. Just a bunch. You don’t have to take them all.

JENN. I can get rid of them.

MARY. It seems a waste.

JENN. When Jack’s mother died we gave the flowers to the local hospice patients. I’m not… I can take them and make sure they go to a place where they will be appreciated.

MARY. Milk.

JENN. …

MARY. Damn. There’s no milk.

JENN opens the fridge and takes the milk out.

JENN. Here.

JENN takes the lid off.

MARY. It’s off.

JENN smells the milk. It is off.

JENN. I have it black anyway.

MARY. Since when?

JENN. Doing a non-dairy thing at the moment.

MARY. Sugar?

JENN stands in front of the drawer with the spoon in it.

JENN. No thanks. There isn’t any.

MARY. Really?

JENN. No.

MARY. Well… aren’t I the perfect host!

JENN. That’s how I like it.

MARY. You don’t have to do that.

JENN. What?

MARY. You’re being nice. You don’t have to be nice.

JENN shrugs. They sip their tea.