Transparency by Suzie Miller

Author:Suzie Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Currency Press
Published: 2013-08-06T00:00:00+00:00

SCENE TWELVE

JESSICA tries to open the trunk, but realises it is locked.

The key can’t be found anywhere.

She madly searches, getting increasingly frustrated.

When she realises she can’t find the key, she wrestles with the case, then thumps it in defeat.

SCENE THIRTEEN

SIMON has just arrived at the squash courts. ANDY is dressed for squash game, SIMON is not.

ANDY: You’re not dressed!

SIMON: No more games.

ANDY: Squash was your idea Simon.

SIMON: That’s not my name.

ANDY: Okay so you’re testing me.

What’s going on Simon?

SIMON: I chose you because you promised.

ANDY: Let’s get something straight. You didn’t choose me Simon. And there are no promises.

SIMON: You promised me you’d never talk.

SIMON takes out the newspaper and waves it around.

You fucking gave me your word you wouldn’t talk /—

ANDY: Okay so I can see you read the newspaper article /—

SIMON: ‘Two years old. A vulnerable age, an age when they will just hold your hand and go. No sense of evil.

Just trusting little souls.’

Straight out of my fucking mouth. You quoted me!

ANDY: You’re angry.

SIMON: Yes I’m angry!

ANDY: They were doing an article about serious crime and rehabilitation.

They approached me.

Simon I’m an expert in rehabilitation.

SIMON: Everything you know is because of me.

ANDY: No Simon, because of me. Because of my hard work in this field.

SIMON: Things I told you.

ANDY: They were asking me about the missing boy, because they are asking everyone, all experts, about what might have happened.

And eventually someone, an investigating officer, will probably want to talk to you.

SIMON: But I was ten.

ANDY: I know that, but you understand /—

SIMON: Ten years old. /

ANDY: It doesn’t ever go away. /

SIMON: You think I don’t know that.

You think I don’t wake up every day knowing—

Hating—

Five minutes when I was ten years old will count forever!

ANDY: That’s the reality Simon.

SIMON: You like owning me, don’t you Andy?

Why, why do you like it so much?

ANDY: I don’t ‘own you’.

SIMON: You have other people to talk to.

What about me?

I want to talk to other people too.

You like having me all to yourself.

ANDY: I am part of your program.

SIMON: No.

Stop it.

It’s more than that.

You can’t let me go.

ANDY: [slightly less controlled] No that’s not true.

Beat.

SIMON: Please Andy. Please.

Just don’t talk to them, the television, newspapers.

Don’t keep mentioning what I did.

ANDY: Okay, no-one would ever know it’s about you.

You have a new identity,

A whole new history,

Trust me.

You’re a wonderful case of rehabilitation,

A success.

SIMON: It’s all theory to you, isn’t it?

And I prove your precious theory.

‘Juvenile Offender C’, isn’t that what you call me?

ANDY:—

SIMON: But what would happen to your reputation, your academic research if ‘Juvenile Offender C’ didn’t prove to be rehabilitated?

ANDY: Well that’s not what’s happened.

SIMON: If I did it again?

ANDY: You won’t. You understand the consequences.

SIMON: Do you believe that,

Or do you just want me to prove that your work was successful?

What if I lurked around where little Denis Pritchard lived? Grabbed him? Covered his mouth and stuffed him in my duffle bag?

ANDY: I know you’re testing me Simon.

SIMON: Easy to bury a child in the bush,

Isn’t that what they’re all saying around here?

I know that bush like the back of my fucking hand.

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