Liz Lochhead Five Plays (NHB Modern Plays) by Liz Lochhead

Author:Liz Lochhead [Lochhead, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nick Hern Books
Published: 2014-11-12T20:30:00+00:00

Scene Eight Aberdeen to Montrose

GUARD’S VOICE. This is the sixteen thirty-three InterCity train from Aberdeen to Glasgow Queen Street stopping at Stonehaven, Montrose, Arbroath, Dundee, Perth, Dunblane, Stirling and Glasgow Queen Street. This train is about to depart so would anyone not wishing to travel please leave the train immediately.

DEREK. I do admit I am somewhat of a settee spud. At home, the tendency to turn into quite the couch potato and I freely admit it.

Has caused problems in the past. The way Ags is as well, she’s very unlikely to come straight out with something, could be something schunnered her the last time I wis hame and – since then – it’s been sorta simmering? A possibility!

Ach, who am I trying to kid? The way she lit into us on the phone last night, I doubt it was about me forgetting to flush the toilet…

Queued up, queued up the regulation three quarters of an oor waiting on the phone, nae answer. I gies up, tries again later, nothing. Thurd time, thurd time lucky she picks up the phone. I goes: Fuck you been? She says… (Shakes his head.)

I mean: What was all that aboot?

I hope to fuck nothing has happened.

I hope naebody has said nothing.

No with this wean due in a coupla weeks.

I don’t think so.

Surely no… Nah.

Christmas fuckin Eve, eh?

Alang Union Street therr lukkin for a jeweller’s. Get Ags a eternity ring. For her Christmas… Ended up wi eighteen-carat set wi zircons and synthetic sapphire… Bar that I’ve a coupla bottla scent out the Bond. Obsession. Better be the right thing. Big Malk says wan thing each and every wan of his wives wanted that wis a eternity ring.

Sometimes I think I’m the only person offshore that has been married jist the wance. To the wan lassie.

I don’t think I’d ever split up wi Ags. No at this stage in the gemme.

I’ve been off the drink as well. Off the drink for vernear nine month. So what has induced you to start the night, son? Ach, I dunno… Perhaps it is the Christmas spirit. Cheers! Gaun yirsel!

See when oor Ags comes oot wi the suggestion we should adopt Joy’s wean. Out of the blue. Joy’s wean… I’m like, eh? Joy’s pregnant? You have got to be fuckin jokin? I thought I was gonny burst a blood vessel. I’m like that… Ags goes: You are as white as a sheet. I go naw, it’s jist the shock of this adoption caper. I thought we’d thought about that and thought that it wasnae for us.

This wis what? – three-four years after we got married, round about the time of all those tests and everything, when she was desperate to start a family and we were never away from yon Southern General. I couldnae love a stranger’s wean, Ags said, could you? I goes: I don’t know. The consultant suggested for starters mibbe Ags should give up her work, relax, let nature take its course so she did. Nothin.

Now this about us adopting Joy and Tam’s wean!

Well, I’m out of there and down the pub and I phone up Joy.

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