Characters

The play is intended for four female actors:

ADULT CLARE, thirties
ADULT EMMA, thirties
CLARE, ten
EMMA, ten
The following roles should be divided among the company:
MR RICE, forties
LAURA, ten
AUNT RITA, fifties
EMMA’S MOTHER, thirties
CLARE’S MOTHER, forties
PETER, fifteen
DENNIS, twenties
EMMA’S FATHER, thirties
CLARE’S FATHER, forties
TANK, forties
DERVLA, twenties

1 The Room
ADULT CLARE sits on a chair. She is staring intently at the
wall in front of her. She is waiting.

ADULT CLARE. A blast from the past. I never understood

that phrase. People use it with affection. Like when they
remember an old song or see a film they’d forgotten about.
People nearly always use it when something that’s been
missing makes a welcome return. But a blast is an explosion,
it’s abrupt, violent. It leaves scars and it burns. (Beat.)
I don’t come here very often. It’s too big, too noisy and I’ve
never been in that cafe before. I was tired, my hands red
raw, shopping bags getting heavier, plastic digging into my
skin – It was just the first place I came to. That’s where I
was when my past blew in, blew up in my face. It strolled to
the counter and asked for some change. (Beat.) I had a cup
of coffee in my hand. It was stuck somewhere between the
table and my mouth, and I’m sure I didn’t mean to, but
sometimes you concentrate so hard on not doing something
that it almost forces to do it. I dropped the cup, it didn’t
slip, it just dropped, and everything stopped for a second.
Everyone stopped to look at me. You did too. You looked
at me sitting there, covered in coffee and bits of ceramic,
covered in debris, from the blast.

2 The Street

EMMA and CLARE sit on the pavement. They are playing a

clapping game.

EMMA / CLARE.
See see my playmate.
Come out and play with me.
And bring your dolly too,
Climb up my apple tree.
Slide down my rainbow.
Come through my cellar door.
And we’ll be jolly friends,
For ever more.
Break.
No. No my playmate.
I cannot play with you,
My dolly’s got the flu,
Boo hoo, boo hoo, boo hoo,
There is no rainbow,
I broke your cellar door,
Will we be jolly friends?
For ever more?

3 The Room

A door opens. ADULT EMMA enters the room. ADULT

CLARE doesn’t move.
A long silence.

ADULT CLARE. To think . . . I was worried there might be an

awkward silence.

ADULT EMMA doesn’t respond.

A lull in the conversation.
No response.
(Begins to turn around slightly as she speaks.) We could –
and I’m not trying to shock you, I mean I’m not trying to be
controversial, but we could start with ‘Hello’. I could say it –
or you could say it – or we could count to three and say it
together . . .

ADULT EMMA. Stay where you are.

ADULT CLARE turns back to stare at the wall. She lifts a

cup of coffee that has been sitting on the desk in front of her.

ADULT CLARE (the coffee). I’ll get you one of these if you
want. (Realises that EMMA can’t see what she’s talking
about so lifts the cup above her head.) A coffee.

ADULT EMMA doesn’t respond.

No. Probably just as well – it tastes like – the coffee’s not

great. (Beat.) The room’s okay, though, isn’t it?
No answer.
I mean, apart from the curtains. I don’t like the curtains. I’d
go as far as to say I’ve vomited up more attractive things
than those curtains.

ADULT EMMA (quietly). I didn’t know . . .

ADULT CLARE. I can’t hear you.

ADULT EMMA (quietly). I didn’t realise. I thought that . . .

ADULT CLARE. I can’t hear you. I can’t make out what

you’re saying.

ADULT EMMA. I thought that you were dead.

ADULT CLARE. Dead?

ADULT EMMA. Dead, deceased, past tense.

ADULT CLARE. I know what dead means.
Silence.
When?

ADULT EMMA. When what?

ADULT CLARE. When did I die?

ADULT EMMA. Ages ago, years ago.

ADULT CLARE. What happened? I mean, how did it happen?

ADULT EMMA. I’m not sure.

ADULT CLARE. I just dropped dead.

ADULT EMMA. You were sick, I suppose.

ADULT CLARE. And does this fatal illness have a name?

ADULT EMMA. Jesus.

ADULT CLARE. I think I deserve to know what killed me.

ADULT EMMA. You were sick in the head, that’s what I heard.

ADULT CLARE. I did it myself. I killed myself. Who told you

that?

ADULT EMMA. I don’t know. People. I can’t remember.

ADULT CLARE. And you believed it. You didn’t question it?

ADULT EMMA. It happens. People like you . . .

ADULT CLARE. People like me what?

ADULT EMMA. Nothing.

ADULT CLARE. People like me should want to be dead?

ADULT EMMA doesn’t answer.

And how do you feel about my resurrection?

ADULT EMMA. You have no right bringing me here.

ADULT CLARE. I didn’t bring you. You brought yourself.

ADULT EMMA. Well, I’m not staying.

ADULT CLARE. You came all this way to tell me that?

ADULT EMMA. I was worried.

ADULT CLARE. Worried?

ADULT EMMA. I was worried you’d turn up at my house, my

home. I have other things to consider.

ADULT CLARE. Good for you. Congratulations.

ADULT EMMA. What do you want?

ADULT CLARE. To talk to you, that’s all.

ADULT EMMA. Well, I don’t want to talk to you.

ADULT CLARE. There are things we need to discuss.

ADULT EMMA. I don’t have anything to say to you.

ADULT CLARE. I’d like to hear your story.

ADULT EMMA. It’s not my story – it’s your story. It has

nothing to do with me.

ADULT CLARE. It has everything to do with you.

ADULT EMMA. I came here to tell you to leave me alone.

ADULT CLARE. What are you so frightened of?

ADULT EMMA. And you don’t contact me again.

ADULT CLARE. It’s just a conversation.

ADULT EMMA. Don’t think about contacting me again.

ADULT CLARE. An hour of your time. You owe me that

much.

ADULT EMMA. Owe you? (Beat.) You know once someone

said, there was this article in a newspaper and it printed this
picture of a house. They said it was my house – it wasn’t.
It was my father’s house. He was sick then, really sick, too
sick to move away. People wouldn’t leave him alone. They
were looking for me, only I wasn’t there, he was. And do
you know what they did? Grown men and women, do you
know what they did? They posted shit through his letter
box. That’s how my father spent the last few weeks of his
life. Trapped in his own house – down on his hands and
knees – cleaning shit off the carpet. I don’t owe you
anything.

ADULT CLARE. I’m not dead. I’m here. And I’m not going
anywhere. (Beat.) Can I turn around now?

4 The Park

EMMA and CLARE are playing.

EMMA. No. You can’t. Of course you can’t! You can’t turn
round till you reach a hundred.

CLARE (annoyed). Right. (Counting.) Fifty-five, fifty-six,

sixty, sixty-seven, seventy-one . . .

EMMA. Clare, stop it!

CLARE (counting). . . . eighty-eight . . . ninety-two . . . one

hundred. Ready or not, here I come.

EMMA. You’re cheating.

CLARE. How am I?

EMMA. You’re skipping numbers.

CLARE. This is boring.

EMMA. How is it?

CLARE. I know where you’re gonna go.

EMMA. Naw, you don’t.

CLARE. Under the slide! Five times in a row and you’ve been
under the slide.

EMMA. It’s a good hiding place.

CLARE. Not if you always use it. (Beat.) This isn’t even a
game any more. It’s just me counting and you lying under
the fucking slide.

EMMA. You said fuck.

CLARE. You say fuck all the time.

EMMA. I do not.

CLARE. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s all you say.

EMMA. You’re just raging cos you’re on it.

CLARE. I know.

EMMA. Go on, admit it – you’re raging cos you’re on it.

CLARE. I just did admit it – I just said.

EMMA. Well, it was fair and square. (Pointing from CLARE to

herself.) Dib, dib, dob, dob..

CLARE. Dib, dib, jog off!

EMMA (still pointing to and fro). You – are – on – it. (Her

finger rests on CLARE.) See!

CLARE. There’s only two of us, Emma!

EMMA. And what?

CLARE. If you start the first ‘dib’ on you (Points finger at

EMMA.) the ‘it’ is always gonna land on me.
Points to herself.

EMMA (confused). What?

EMMA points her finger between herself and CLARE,
muttering the rhyme to herself.
CLARE. Jesus, stop it! It doesn’t matter.

EMMA. There’s nothing else to play. You can’t play anything

else with two people, not bulldog, not rounders, not red
rover, not tag . . .

CLARE. Marbles.

EMMA. Nope

CLARE. Conkers, elastics.

EMMA. Nope, nope

CLARE. Tennis.

EMMA. Tennis? Clare, who the hell plays tennis? When have
we ever played tennis?

CLARE. We could start.

EMMA. You need bats and all.

CLARE. Rackets.

EMMA. What?

CLARE. They’re called rackets.

EMMA. It doesn’t matter what they’re called. We don’t have

any.

CLARE. This is crap – I’m going back to the street.

CLARE goes to leave but EMMA stands in front of her.

EMMA. You’ll stay where you are.

CLARE. I’ll do what I want. It’s a free country. (Beat.) Move.

EMMA. Make me.

CLARE. I’m warning you.

EMMA. I’m shaking.

CLARE. You’re such a dick.

EMMA. You take that back.

CLARE. Why? What are you gonna do, dickibird?

EMMA. Bitch.

EMMA pushes CLARE to the ground. CLARE screams.

CLARE. Psycho!

EMMA. Are you okay?

CLARE. Do I look okay?

EMMA. Kind of.

CLARE. I’m bleeding, from my head, look, my head’s

bleeding. I’m probably scarred for life.

EMMA. No, the blood’s coming from your hand, you’ve cut
your hand.

CLARE examines her hand.

CLARE. Aye, well, that’s not what I’ll be telling your ma.

EMMA. Don’t tell my ma, Clare.

CLARE. Freaking mentalist.

EMMA. I’m sorry.

CLARE. Of course you’re sorry now.

EMMA. Don’t tell, Clare. If I’m caught fighting again I’m

dead. I’m deader than dead. She’ll kill me. I’ll be a corpse
like my Granda Frankie. Just lying there in a box, not
breathing, history, past tense . . .

CLARE picks herself up and dusts herself off.

CLARE. I know what dead means, Emma.

EMMA. Please . . . please . . . I’m begging you. I’ll play

whatever you want.

5 The Room

ADULT EMMA. It’s unbelievable. I thought you might have

lost it.

ADULT CLARE. Lost what?

ADULT EMMA. That knack you had. That ability to twist

people’s arms, to talk people round.

ADULT CLARE. I wasn’t aware that was something I was

ever particularly good at.

ADULT EMMA. No. You always knew how to get what you
wanted.

ADULT CLARE. Is that so?

ADULT EMMA. You always were a clever girl.

ADULT CLARE. That’s what they said.

ADULT EMMA. That’s what was true.

ADULT CLARE. And what about you? Are you still the
pathetic follower?

ADULT EMMA. No. I’m not so easily led any more.

ADULT CLARE. ‘Poor stupid, stupid girl. Shy, timid,

frightened girl.’ It made me want to laugh when people said
that. It made me want to burst out laughing.

ADULT EMMA. When they said you were more intelligent,

I heard you liked it. I heard you smiled.

ADULT CLARE. If I’d really been that bright, I’d have done
what you did. I’d have played your hand. You were the one
that got away.

ADULT EMMA. You weren’t punished for being bright.

ADULT CLARE. You weren’t punished at all.

ADULT EMMA. Is that what this is? Is this my punishment?

You think you’re in a position to hand out my penance, do
you?

ADULT CLARE. Would you like someone to do that? Is that

what you need?

ADULT EMMA. You’re pathetic. This is all you have, isn’t it?
But people aren’t interested any more, people literally don’t
know that you’re alive. Is that why you decided to hunt me
down?

ADULT CLARE. I didn’t hunt you down.

ADULT EMMA. But I have a life and you can’t stand that.
You want to destroy it. Because that’s what you do. You
destroy things.

ADULT CLARE. I think you’re overestimating me.

ADULT EMMA. Why are you doing this?

ADULT CLARE. I’m not doing anything.

ADULT EMMA. Everything was fine, everything was okay.

ADULT CLARE. That doesn’t need to change.

ADULT EMMA. No. It doesn’t need to but it will. You show

up and it all changes.

6 The School

EMMA. Right. There’s a few things you need to know about

this place. First of all, sometimes Mr Rice can seem a bit
mental.

MR RICE. Why? Why? Do I subject myself to this tortuous

monotony! I’m wasted, ruined, I’m dead inside.

EMMA. I mean, lots of people are scared of him. And

everyone says he picks on Connor.

MR RICE. I will not tell you again, boy, put that down, you’ll
have somebody’s eye out with that! Would you do that in
your own house? (Beat.) That was a rhetorical question. Do
you know what rhetorical means? (Beat.) No, I sometimes
suspect, Connor, that when you were born they threw away
the child and your mother raised the afterbirth.

EMMA. But the thing is, Connor deserves it. He smells of piss
and sometimes tries to feel my leg. Connor’s a pig.
Not the biggest pig though. (Beat.) The biggest pig
(Beat.) has to be Laura.

LAURA. It’s going be at the pool. It’s a pool party and there’ll
be a magician there. There’s gonna be a whole
entertainment area with games and stuff and prizes . . .
proper prizes, not like the ones at Louise Keogh’s party.
Mammy said they looked like they came out of Christmas
crackers. No, mine will be all Barbie things, Barbie clothes,
Barbie stationary, Barbie cars, Barbie pets, everything. And
everyone’s invited. (Beat.) Except you, Emma, Mammy
says you dress like the homeless.

EMMA. Proper prick. (Beat.) Now the important thing to

remember is that even if Mr Rice is a bit mad, he’s still a
good teacher.

MR RICE. If you learn anything from me, boys and girls, let it
be this. One – Animal Farm was the best book ever written.
Two – The Rolling Stones are the best band of all time. And
three – teaching is the worst profession in the world.

EMMA. So you need to just keep your head down and get on
with things because you really don’t want to get kicked out
of Mr Rice’s class. The only other P6 teacher is Miss Ryder.
Total mentalist. (Beat.) So since
you’re gonna be in my class and you’re gonna live in my
street I think we should probably be best friends. (Beat.)
You don’t already have one, do you?

7 The Room

ADULT EMMA. I won’t do it again.

ADULT CLARE. Won’t do what again?

ADULT EMMA. When it was over. When they told me what I

already knew. When they sent me home I thought, I honestly
thought I’d be playing in the street again that Monday. But
people didn’t want me, not in that street, not in that school.
People wanted me to disappear, so I did. I won’t do it again.

ADULT CLARE (drily). People can be so unfair.

ADULT EMMA. I went to a new school, a new street, in a new

city. Rita took me away.

ADULT CLARE. The aunt?

ADULT EMMA. Rita saved me.

ADULT CLARE (drily). The aunt was a good woman.

ADULT EMMA. She still is.

8 Aunt Rita’s House

RITA is fixing EMMA’s clothes.

RITA. I see your mother sent you out like a walking wrinkle
again. I don’t even have time to iron you out a bit . . . We’ll
be late for mass.

EMMA. I don’t want to go to mass.

RITA. You’ll be making your confirmation next year. I don’t

know what your mother and father are playing at. Would
you go near a chapel at all I wonder if I wasn’t here?

EMMA. Well, when you were in Lourdes I never went for two
weeks.

RITA. Isn’t it a good job then I had the knees prayed off
myself? I just might’ve done enough for both of us.

EMMA. Mammy and Daddy slept in. It was brilliant.

RITA. I know your mother’s not well, but you think that lazy
brute she got married to would feel some sense of duty. Do
you know what happens when wee girls don’t go to mass?
Our Lady cries . . . and her tears make rain and wee girls
can’t go out to play.

EMMA. You said that’s what happens when wee girls swear.

RITA. She cries at different things.

EMMA. Mass is crap.

RITA (blessing herself). That’s enough of that. Another habit

that Clare one’s taught you, I suppose. Why do you have to
play with her, Emma?

EMMA. She’s my best friend.

RITA. There are other girls. Nicer girls. That Clare’s such a
strange child, strange family – and you know Josie?
Number seventy-two? Big hair, one arm shorter than the
other? – Well, Josie tells me that apparently . . . (In a low
voice.) they’re protestants. Imagine.

EMMA. I don’t think they are, Rita. Her da takes photographs

that’s his job. He does christenings, first communions,
confirmations – sure a protestant wouldn’t be allowed to do
that.

RITA. Protestants are allowed to do anything. (Beat.) And

there’s no denying that wee creature has a presbyterian look
about her.

EMMA. Naw, that’s just the way she dresses. She’s always so
neat.

RITA. Well, at least we know you’ll never be mistaken for one.

(Finishes fixing EMMA.) You’ll have to do. Come on.

9 The Room

ADULT CLARE. Do you know what I remember about the

aunt?

ADULT EMMA. She did what she thought was best.

ADULT CLARE. I remember her words, at the time.

ADULT EMMA. ‘This is our new life’, she would say. ‘People
won’t understand, we’ll keep it to ourselves, never mention
it, not a word.’

ADULT CLARE. She said that we were never friends, that I

was tormenting you. That I was bullying you.

ADULT EMMA. No. Rita doesn’t lie. She wouldn’t know how
to.

ADULT CLARE. Such a good upstanding citizen, a pillar of

the community.

ADULT EMMA. She wanted to make it all okay. ‘It’s over

now’, she would say. ‘It’s done with.’

ADULT CLARE. It was her, wasn’t it?

ADULT EMMA. What?

ADULT CLARE. She told you I was dead.

ADULT EMMA. No.

ADULT CLARE. Jesus Christ.

ADULT EMMA. It wasn’t like that.

ADULT CLARE. Either Rita knows how to lie or you’re

sitting here talking to a ghost.

ADULT EMMA. When my father died I didn’t sleep. I thought

about it all over again. I thought you might come back. She
said that you wouldn’t, that you couldn’t. She said you’d
gone. (Beat.) Then I slept.

ADULT CLARE. I can’t say I’m surprised. There never was a

trick Rita didn’t pull out of her bag.

ADULT EMMA. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

ADULT CLARE. ‘Her mother’s sick – her father drinks.’

ADULT EMMA. Don’t you mention my father.
ADULT CLARE. ‘She dresses in rags and she doesn’t get fed,
poor, poor little Emma.’

ADULT EMMA. You’re twisting everything.

ADULT CLARE. Your family would’ve said anything. They

encouraged her to condemn them, to embarrass them, Jesus,
they had no shame, no pride.

ADULT EMMA. Was pride the reason behind your parents’

silence? Or did they just have nothing to say – did they
know what you were?

10 Clare’s Kitchen

CLARE’S MOTHER (calling). Clare, Clare, get in here. Get in

here right now. Where have you been?

CLARE. Playing.

CLARE’S MOTHER. Look at the state of you. Look at your

new dress. What were you doing? Mud-wrestling?

CLARE. No, Mammy, just playing.

CLARE’S MOTHER. Why do I bother? Why do me and your

father bother buying you good things if you’re just gonna
run about looking like a tramp. Staying out, not telling us
where you’re going. It’s that Emma one’s doing.

CLARE. No, it’s not Emma’s fault.

CLARE’S MOTHER. I don’t have time. I don’t even have time

to clean you up a bit.

CLARE. Where are you going, Mammy? You’re not going out,
are you? Are you going out?

CLARE’S MOTHER. Just up to Kathy’s.

CLARE. Can I come?

CLARE’S MOTHER. No

CLARE. Oh please, Mammy, can I come?

CLARE’S MOTHER. No, it’s late.

CLARE. There’s no school.

CLARE’S MOTHER. I said no.

CLARE. I’m sorry about the dress, really I’m sorry, it won’t
ever happen again, I promise. Just please let me come. I’ll
be good. I’ll be quiet.

12 The Room / The Street

ADULT CLARE. I didn’t have anyone willing to make up
stories, or prepared to swear on lies.

ADULT EMMA. No. They were able to speak because I told

them the truth. They knew everything.

ADULT CLARE. Do they still?

ADULT EMMA. Do they still what?

ADULT CLARE. Know everything. (Beat.) Did you tell them

you were coming to meet me?

ADULT EMMA. No.

ADULT CLARE. No, I didn’t think so.

ADULT EMMA. Nobody can know this is happening.

ADULT CLARE. Nothing’s happening.

ADULT EMMA. I mean me – you – here – now. Nobody can

find out.

ADULT CLARE. We’re just talking.

ADULT EMMA. That’s enough though. It’s enough for them.

ADULT CLARE. For who?

ADULT EMMA. People. (Beat.) They’d think this was wrong –

ADULT CLARE. Do you think that?

ADULT EMMA. You know they say that when certain

individuals come together, it’s explosive, like a chemical
reaction, on their own nothing would happen – it’s the
meeting that’s dangerous.

EMMA and CLARE on the street, they are out of breath

from running. They are filled with adrenaline and
excitement, looking behind them to see if anyone’s been
following.

ADULT CLARE. They pollute each other.

ADULT EMMA. I think so.

ADULT CLARE. You believe that.

ADULT EMMA. No. But people do.

ADULT CLARE. It’s the meeting that’s dangerous. Together

they’re braver, together they do things they couldn’t have on
their own.

13 The Street
EMMA and CLARE are removing stolen items from their
person and throwing them down on the pavement.

EMMA. Jesus! (Trying to catch her breath.) You were taking

your freaking time.

CLARE. Three packets of crisps.

EMMA. I don’t like cheese and onion.

CLARE. He keeps the salt and vinegar too high up.

EMMA. A can of Coke.

CLARE. A tomato.

EMMA. The Daily Mirror.

CLARE. A toothbrush.

EMMA. Air freshener.

CLARE. A packet of water balloons.

EMMA. No way!

CLARE. Look.

She shows her.

EMMA. I thought he kept those behind the counter.

CLARE. He does.

EMMA. You’re off your head.

CLARE. I’m brilliant.

EMMA. What if he had turned round?

CLARE. He didn’t. Did he?

EMMA. Dennis is mad, actually mad, everybody knows that, if

he’d caught you, you’d be dead.

CLARE. But I’m not dead, I’m here, and I have a packet of
water balloons.

14 The Room

ADULT EMMA. If you felt strong with me beside you it was

only because I was weak.

ADULT CLARE. You were never weak.

ADULT EMMA. I was afraid of you sometimes.

ADULT CLARE. You weren’t afraid of anything, of anyone.

ADULT EMMA. It’s true.
ADULT CLARE. Then why were we friends? Why, if you
were so scared? If I was so frightening?

ADULT EMMA. Sometimes, I said. I was afraid of you

sometimes. (Beat.) You would get so angry. It would come
out of nowhere – You would just erupt and I never understood
it, you had no reason to, I mean you had everything.

15 The Street

EMMA. We need to put all these in your house.

CLARE. I want to go to the park.

EMMA. We can’t carry all this stuff to the park.

CLARE. Why my house?

EMMA. My ma is starting to twig, I think.

CLARE. We don’t need to keep them, we can throw them

away.

EMMA. Then what’s the point? What’s the point in taking

them?

CLARE. There is no point.

EMMA. I’m not throwing this stuff away.

CLARE. All we want is the water balloons.

EMMA. I want all of it. I think we should keep it all.

Everything. And then when we have enough, we can open
our own shop.

16 The Room / Clare’s Bedroom

ADULT EMMA. Your room was just crammed with things . . .

Full of stuff.

ADULT CLARE. Full of crap.

ADULT EMMA. It was like a toyshop.

ADULT CLARE. Oh, they had a field day with that.

ADULT EMMA. No one else had toys like those.

ADULT CLARE. They said I was spoiled.

ADULT EMMA. But you wouldn’t even play with them.

ADULT CLARE. I liked being outside.

ADULT EMMA. I remember your father bought you this doll.

ADULT CLARE. Stupid thing.

ADULT EMMA. I loved that doll.

ADULT CLARE. Ridiculous thing.

ADULT EMMA. You put this key in its back and you could
make it cry and crawl and it took a bottle, and wet its
nappy –

ADULT CLARE. I never wanted it.

ADULT EMMA. You cut off all its hair.

ADULT CLARE. You were shouting . . .

EMMA. No! No give it to me!

ADULT EMMA. Drew on its face.

ADULT CLARE. You were screaming . . .

EMMA. ‘I want it. I’ll take it.’

ADULT EMMA. Then you stood on its back.

ADULT CLARE. You couldn’t have it.

ADULT EMMA. Jumped on its back.

ADULT CLARE. It was stupid, annoying.

ADULT EMMA. Until it broke.

ADULT CLARE. Nobody could play with it after that.

EMMA. Why did you do that, Clare? Why did you do it?

ADULT CLARE. I didn’t like dolls much.

CLARE (hysterically). I told you I didn’t want to play here . . .

I told you I hate this room . . . I hate this fucking room.
I want to play somewhere else.

EMMA. It’s okay, it’s all right, we’ll play somewhere else.
We’ll find somewhere else to play.

17 The Room

ADULT CLARE. I liked being outside, it was better outside.

ADULT EMMA. Why?

ADULT CLARE. Because.

ADULT EMMA. Because? That’s a ten-year-old’s answer.

That’s a child’s answer.

ADULT CLARE. I was happier – I was happier in the street, in

the park, in the tree house.

ADULT EMMA. Jesus Christ.

ADULT CLARE. It was safe there.

ADULT EMMA. Safe! Listen to yourself. That place was hardly

safe.

18 The Wood

PETE. Come on ladies. Keep up, come on. We want to get

there today. Mind that branch, Clare, watch yourself,
Emma. Not far now.

EMMA. Crap! Crap! Crapping bastarding stinging nettles.

PETE. You should’ve wore trousers, Emma – rub a dock leaf

on it. Trousers would’ve been better.

EMMA. Bee! Bee! Giant freaking bee! (She clasps her neck
and yells.) Aghh! Jesus.

PETE. I hope you’re not allergic. I watched this programme

about a fella who was allergic to bee stings. His body swoll
out to three times its size . . . then he died . . . at least I
think he died . . . didn’t see the end.

EMMA. Pete, seriously . . . I’m starting to think there is no

tree house . . . I’m starting to think you’re a mentalist . . .
That you’ve brought us out here to kill us . . . and eat us.

PETE. Like a cannibal. I saw this programme about cannibals

once . . .
EMMA (impatiently). Where is it, Pete?

PETE (pointing towards the tree house). There you go, girls . . .
What do you reckon?

EMMA and CLARE look upwards. They are unimpressed.

EMMA. Is that it?

PETE. That’s it all right.

EMMA. Why do you not want it any more?

PETE. It’s not a question of not wanting it. I’m fifteen now . . .
exams coming up . . . think it’s about time I let it go . . .
breaks my heart, like, it really does.

EMMA. How much?

PETE. Anyone else, a fiver; for you two, three quid.

EMMA. Three pound! Pete, it’s falling apart. It doesn’t even

have a ladder. And it’s miles away.

PETE. I’m not saying it isn’t a bit of a fixer-upper. But the

foundations are there – and as for the location, well you
don’t want your secret hideaway on your doorstep, do you?

19 The Room

ADULT CLARE. For a while it was safe. It must’ve been. It

was so high up. My other world, my escape. We thought we
could live there – all the time – never leave. We were going
to run away.

ADULT EMMA. No.

ADULT CLARE. We were. We’d planned it all out, thought it

all through. We collected things.

ADULT EMMA. I know what you’re doing.

ADULT CLARE. We collected things and brought them there.

Bits of furniture, stuff we’d pulled off the bonfire, stuff we’d
stolen from the shop.

ADULT EMMA. Stop it.

ADULT CLARE. Plates, cups, knifes forks – things we’d lifted

from under our parents’ noses.

ADULT EMMA. It wasn’t me.

ADULT CLARE. Sheets, blankets, pillows –

ADULT EMMA. The carpet was your idea.

ADULT CLARE. The carpet.

20 The Tree House

EMMA. Clare! Clare, Wake up. Wake up, Clare.

CLARE (confused) What? What?

EMMA. You were sleeping.

CLARE. I don’t know. What?

EMMA. You were sleeping.

CLARE. No I wasn’t. I just lay down. Just for a second.

EMMA. Have you been here all night?

CLARE. No. This morning. I came down this morning.

EMMA. Why didn’t you call in for me?

CLARE. I woke up early. It was too early for you; you’d have
still been in bed.

EMMA. You were supposed to help me bring Rita’s old coffee

table down. I couldn’t lift it on my own, had to leave it
behind.

CLARE. Sorry, okay. I’m sorry. We can get it later. Stop crying
at me.

EMMA. I’m not crying at you. (Pause.) Do you come here

other times without me?

CLARE. There’s no rule, Emma, there’s no law that says we

always have to come here together.

EMMA. I know there isn’t. I never said there was. I’m just
wondering. I’m just asking.

CLARE. Well, I’m just answering.

21 The Room

ADULT EMMA. You’d been sleeping there, you’d been

staying there all night. You wanted something to cover the
floor. You brought it from your house.

ADULT CLARE. No. I couldn’t have.

ADULT EMMA. You did.

ADULT CLARE. Because that’s not what the man said.

ADULT EMMA. What man?

ADULT CLARE. O’Donnell. The shopkeeper.

22 The Shop

CLARE. Dennis . . . We want to ask you something.

DENNIS. Ask me what? For my hand in marriage? Come on

girls. I have a business to run.

CLARE. It’s about the rugs, the ones you sell down the back.

EMMA. We want the red one you see . . . but we can’t afford
it.

DENNIS. Well, I think that’s our conversation over then, isn’t

it? (To another customer.) Hi pig face, you’ve been
flicking through that paper for ten effing minutes, do you
want a pen and you can do the effing crossword? (Listens
to customer’s reply.) Aye, too right you’re buying it. (Aside.)
Muppet.

CLARE (nervously). We were wondering, since no one ever

buys them, if we could have one and pay up for it.

EMMA. Like in installments. Every week or whatever. What

do you think?
DENNIS. I think this is a corner shop not a catalogue. (To
other customer.) Or a effing library.

CLARE. Or, we could work it off. You know, the debt. Do

chores for you and stuff.

DENNIS. Chores! Chores! What is this? Little House on the

effing Prairie?

CLARE. Do you watch Little House on the Prairie, Dennis?

DENNIS. Out. Now.

23 The Room

ADULT CLARE. There’s this report. It said he remembered

selling it.

ADULT EMMA. Then he was wrong.

ADULT CLARE. It said he remembered a little girl buying it.

ADULT EMMA. Okay – okay, you bought it from the shop,

what’s the difference?

ADULT CLARE. One little girl. Came in on her own. You. He

gave your name. I wasn’t even mentioned. Why would he
have said that, unless it was true?

ADULT EMMA. All right. If I did, then where did I get the
money?

ADULT CLARE. I don’t know.

ADULT EMMA. I never had any money.

ADULT CLARE. That’s not important.

24 Emma’s Living Room

EMMA. Hello, Daddy.

EMMA’S FATHER. Here who’s this? Who is this strange girl

in my living room? I don’t know her! What could she want
with a poor man like me?

EMMA. Ach, Daddy, stop it.

EMMA’S FATHER. Why does she call me Daddy? I did have

a daughter once but she went out to play and never came
back to visit her poor aul’ father.

EMMA. Daddy, it’s the summer, I have to go out and play.

EMMA’S FATHER. Emma, is that you?

EMMA. Pack it in; you know fine rightly it’s me. (Beat.)
Daddy?
EMMA’S FATHER. What?
EMMA. Can I have a tenner?

EMMA’S FATHER. Do you want the long answer or the short

answer?

EMMA. Ummm, the short answer.

EMMA’S FATHER. No.

EMMA. Ach, Daddy. What was the long answer?

EMMA’S FATHER. Nooooooo!

EMMA. Please.

EMMA’S FATHER. What do you want a tenner for?

EMMA. I’m not telling you.

EMMA’S FATHER. Drugs, is it?

EMMA. Wise up, Daddy.

EMMA’S FATHER. I haven’t a penny to scratch myself with,

pet. Here, that’s a hard word to spell, isn’t it? Pet.

EMMA. Catch yourself on.

EMMA’S FATHER. What, can you spell it, can you?

EMMA. Everybody can spell pet. The primary ones’ can

probably spell pet.

EMMA’S FATHER. Go on then, spell it for me.

EMMA. Pet. (Spells.) P.E.T.

EMMA’S FATHER. Tea? Tea did you say? Thank you very
much; I’d love a cup.

25 Clare’s Living Room

CLARE. I’m going to go to bed now.

CLARE’S FATHER. Is that all you’re going to do? Stick your

head around the door? Is that how you say goodnight to
your father?

CLARE. You’re watching something.

CLARE’S FATHER. Get in here. (Pause.) Out gallivanting all

day again.

CLARE. Sorry, Daddy.

CLARE’S FATHER. Your dress is all dirty.

CLARE. I know.
CLARE’S FATHER. Take it off.

CLARE. I will. I’m going to. I’m going up to bed now.

CLARE’S FATHER. What? And drag muck upstairs too? Do

you think that’s a good idea?

CLARE. No.

CLARE’S FATHER. It’s filthy. Look at it. What is it?

CLARE. I know, I’m sorry.

CLARE’S FATHER. Take it off now.

CLARE. But Daddy –

CLARE’S FATHER. Don’t make me get angry with you,

Clare. Do as I say.

26 The Room

ADULT EMMA. It came from you. Your father gave you that
money and you sent me to the shop with it. You sent me
there and you told me to buy the red rug.

ADULT CLARE. If I gave you his money – that was it. I gave
it to you. It was yours. I wouldn’t have wanted to know
what you did with it.

ADULT EMMA. Then you cried. You sent me for it but didn’t
want it any more. ‘I don’t like how it looks, I don’t like how
it feels.’ Spoilt brat, that’s what you were.

ADULT CLARE. He did spoil me.

ADULT EMMA. Finally we agree on something.

ADULT CLARE. He ruined me.

ADULT EMMA. Now we’re making progress.

ADULT CLARE. I gave you his money to get rid of it and what
did you do? You carpeted my other world with it, with him.
A silence.

ADULT EMMA. I see. Of course. Now I see. Now it’s all

clear.

ADULT CLARE. I doubt that.

ADULT EMMA. You did a bad thing because bad things

happened you.

ADULT CLARE. That’s not what I said.

ADULT EMMA. It’s very good. I didn’t even see that coming.
No really, that is very good. Because what it does – well,
I don’t need to tell you this, I’m sure you know.

ADULT CLARE. Jesus Christ.

ADULT EMMA. What it does is, it allows you to cross over

and suddenly you deserve sympathy.

ADULT CLARE. I’m not asking you to feel sorry for me.

ADULT EMMA. Oh don’t worry, there’s no risk of that.

ADULT CLARE. Forget it.

ADULT EMMA. You don’t want me to forget about it. That

would defeat the purpose.

ADULT CLARE. There is no fucking purpose.

ADULT EMMA. But what I don’t understand is – those

weeks, those months afterwards, I really can’t remember
your ordeal surfacing. That’s strange, isn’t it?

ADULT CLARE. The time never came.

ADULT EMMA. And the time’s come now, has it? Am I

supposed to be shocked? Am I supposed to care? I mean if
it’s true, what am I supposed to do with that
information exactly?

ADULT CLARE. I don’t know.

ADULT EMMA. I’d say you do. You’ve managed it. I didn’t
think you would but you’ve done it. You’ve given yourself
an excuse.

ADULT CLARE. That’s enough. Just stop it. Just be quiet.

ADULT EMMA. And if you have an excuse, what happens to

me?

ADULT CLARE. Nothing happens to you.

ADULT EMMA. You’re saying you were broken, you were

damaged and that I was standing beside you, all in one
piece. What does that make me?

ADULT CLARE. It doesn’t affect you.

ADULT EMMA. It makes me worse. You’re trying to say I

was worse.

ADULT CLARE. That’s not what I’m doing.

ADULT EMMA. Bringing me here, telling me that. You’re

letting go of it. You’re dropping it all at my feet. (Beat.) And
I should just pick it up and carry it off with me, should I?
You think it’s time I took some of the weight?

ADULT CLARE. No.

ADULT EMMA. I won’t feel guilty about something that
wasn’t my fault. Do you understand me? I won’t let you do
that again. So whatever game you’re playing, it stops now.
It’s over. You did what you did, you can’t change it, you
can’t rewrite it. All you can do is leave it alone, all you can
do is forget.

ADULT CLARE. How can I forget before I’ve even

remembered?

ADULT EMMA. What’s that supposed to mean?

ADULT CLARE. I didn’t bring you here to tell you anything.

ADULT EMMA. Then why am I here?

ADULT CLARE (quietly). I’ve lost it.

ADULT EMMA. I’m sorry?

ADULT CLARE (quietly). Somehow . . . it’s gone.

ADULT EMMA. I can’t make out what you’re saying.

ADULT CLARE. I don’t remember what happened. (Beat.)

I brought you here because there are things you can tell me.

ADULT EMMA. You must. You must know what happened.

People would have told you what happened.

ADULT CLARE. People told me. People told me lots of times.

People who weren’t there. (Pause.) Only one other person
was. They said I could never speak to her again. They said
I would never see her again. Then one day she just walks
into this coffee shop. And I thought, ‘She won’t disappear,
not this time’. I thought, ‘this is my chance.’

ADULT EMMA. You don’t remember any of it?

ADULT CLARE. No.

ADULT EMMA. Nothing?

ADULT CLARE. Some things. Stupid things – but when I

approach that day – when I come close to it, I stop.

ADULT EMMA. That’s all you want? You just want to know
what happened. (Beat.) And once you do, that’s the end of it?
Silence.
I mean, as far as I’m concerned. Once you know, you’re
finished with me?

27 Clare’s Front Steps

The girls are watching something across the street.

CLARE. Who do you think she is?

EMMA. I can’t believe you went to Laura’s freaking party,

Clare – I can’t believe you went . . . I am in total unbelief.
CLARE. Disbelief.

EMMA. You are such a sneak-off.

CLARE. Why would anybody want to live in that house – it’s

haunted, you’d think someone would’ve told her.

EMMA. Maybe she’s a ghost.

CLARE. Don’t be smart.

EMMA. I’m not being smart.

CLARE. Well, she doesn’t look like a ghost.

EMMA. She looks like one of Laura’s Barbie dolls.

CLARE. Jesus! How do you always bring everything back to

Laura?

EMMA (shrugs). Rita says she feels sorry for her.

CLARE. For Laura?

EMMA. No. Jesus! For the new girl. For the ghost.

CLARE. Why?

EMMA. She said it’ll be tough on her, out on her own for the
first time. She said it’s hard work bringing up a baby alone.
(Beat.) Imagine, no man, a squealing brat and a haunted
house – life’s shit.

28 The Room

ADULT EMMA. I suppose it started to change the day she

came. A big event anyway, new arrivals. It didn’t take much
in that place. But when she pulled up in that battered green
car – us looking on – her struggling with boxes – me
thinking she might well fold under their weight. It was then
that you started to change. Or at least that’s when I began to
notice.

ADULT CLARE. Notice what?

ADULT EMMA. You know – that you were mixed up,

disturbed.

ADULT CLARE. Disturbed?

ADULT EMMA. You always were, I suppose, but her arrival

brought it into focus.

ADULT CLARE. That’s what you remember.

ADULT EMMA. Yeah.

ADULT CLARE. They arrived, and you remember thinking I

was disturbed?

ADULT EMMA. That’s what I said.

ADULT CLARE. That’s a sophisticated term for a ten-year-old

to reach for.

ADULT EMMA. I maybe didn’t use that word.

ADULT CLARE. No. I’m fairly sure you didn’t.

ADULT EMMA. But it’s what I felt. I started to realise you

were different. That you weren’t like me.

29 Clare’s Front Steps

CLARE. Do you think it’s just the two of them in there?

EMMA. Have you seen anyone else?

CLARE. Do you really think the wain has no daddy?

EMMA. She has one . . . he’s just nicked off.

CLARE. Mad, isn’t it.

EMMA (slightly disinterestedly). Not really . . . it happens all

the time. My ma says she wishes my da would nick off. She
says if he did we would all get free school dinners.

CLARE. I wonder what she does?

EMMA. Dunno.

CLARE. Sssssh . . .

EMMA. Don’t tell me to sssssh . . . Jesus but this is boring.

CLARE. You’re calling me boring?

EMMA. Not you. This. She’s not gonna do anything. She

never does anything.

CLARE. They both came out and sat in the garden yesterday.

EMMA. They both came out and sat in the garden! Surely not!
The mad bastards! (Pause.) We’ve been here all day.

CLARE. We have not.

EMMA (sighing in exaggerated boredom). Jesus!

CLARE. I’m not forcing you to stay –

EMMA. We could put a swing up on one of the lamp posts –

Dennis might have some rope.

CLARE. Aye, maybe later.

EMMA. Why do you not want to do anything?
CLARE. That’s not true.

EMMA. You won’t go to the park, you won’t swipe from the
shop. You won’t go to the tree house, you won’t go on your
rollerboots.

CLARE. You broke one of my rollerboots, you threw it at

Laura.

EMMA. Let’s go and throw the other one at her.

CLARE. Later I said.

EMMA. Later? So until later we’ll sit here and wait for that
boring cow and the boring brat to come out and, shock
horror, sit in their front garden again.

CLARE. Do you ever shut up?

EMMA. I don’t even think that house is haunted any more . . .

I think they bored the ghosts clean out of it.

A short pause.

Let’s put her front window in.

CLARE. No.

EMMA. Come on, you want something to happen, don’t you –

we’ll see her reaction.

CLARE. We’re not putting her window in. Don’t be a dick.

EMMA. I’m not a dick, you’re the dick. It’s not like I need
you.

30 The Room

ADULT EMMA. You were fascinated with her, with both of

them.

ADULT CLARE. Weren’t you?

ADULT EMMA. My fascination died off fairly quickly. Yours

didn’t, it grew.

ADULT CLARE. But you were still interested.

ADULT EMMA. Not like you were. I mean, you would watch
them.

ADULT CLARE. I was curious.

ADULT EMMA. It was more than that. It wasn’t just that you
watched them. It was the way you watched them, like you
were studying them. Even then I knew it wasn’t normal,
even then I knew there was something unhealthy about it.
ADULT CLARE. And what were you doing? (Beat.) Did you
watch me while I watched them?

ADULT EMMA. No. I got bored. I thought eventually you

would too, but I was wrong. I had to find other things to do,
other ways to amuse myself. I think I knew something was
going to happen.

33 The Room

ADULT CLARE. You came back though.

ADULT EMMA. I shouldn’t have.

ADULT CLARE. You always came back.

ADULT EMMA. I should’ve stayed away.

ADULT CLARE. Why was that?

ADULT EMMA. I should’ve kept my distance when you

exploded.

ADULT CLARE. Did I trail you by the hair, kicking and

screaming?

ADULT EMMA. But you blew up and there were pieces of

you everywhere.

ADULT CLARE. Did I force you to come back to me?

ADULT EMMA. There were pieces of you all over me. Your
mess was all over me and I’ve never been able to clean it up.

34 The Street

DERVLA. What are your names, girls?

CLARE. I’m Clare and this here’s Emma. We’re best friends.

DERVLA. My name’s Dervla. I just moved into number

fourteen, so I did.

CLARE. It’s nice to meet you, Dervla.

DERVLA. And it was lovely meeting you girls.

CLARE. Are you going?

DERVLA. I better get back to the house – I just left the baby
for a second.

CLARE. Wee Shannon. We see her playing sometimes, in the

garden.

DERVLA. Wee Shannon, that’s right. Do you like babies, girls?

CLARE. We love babies.

DERVLA. I suppose, all wee girls love babies, don’t they?
Well, if you ever fancy taking her on a walk for me, give me
five minutes peace, you know where I am.

35 The Room

ADULT CLARE. I say, not a day goes by when I don’t think

about it.
Silence.
It’s what people wanted to hear.

ADULT EMMA. I know what you want to hear.

ADULT CLARE. So it became easier just to say it. (Beat.) But

the truth is days have passed, sometimes months have
passed, when I haven’t thought about it at all.

ADULT EMMA. You want to hear something that’ll change

things.

ADULT CLARE. Do you really believe it was all my mess? Or

has it become easier just to think that?

ADULT EMMA. I can’t give you a new ending.

ADULT CLARE. Has it become easier to believe it? Because

people wanted you to.

ADULT EMMA. You’re not looking for the truth at all.

ADULT CLARE. I don’t think you’re capable of giving it to

me.

ADULT EMMA. No. You just don’t like how it sounds.

ADULT CLARE. All my mess, I did everything. You did

nothing?

ADULT EMMA. I got dragged in.

ADULT CLARE. You did nothing.

ADULT EMMA. It wasn’t my fault.

ADULT CLARE. You did nothing.

ADULT EMMA. I did nothing.

Silence.

ADULT CLARE. Why?

ADULT EMMA. What?

ADULT CLARE. I was disturbed, you said, it wasn’t healthy,

you said, you knew something was going to happen, you
said. (Beat.) Why didn’t you do anything?

ADULT EMMA. It wasn’t my responsibility.

ADULT CLARE. You were the only one there.

ADULT EMMA. I was ten years old.

ADULT CLARE. So was I.

ADULT EMMA. I tried to.

ADULT CLARE. How?

ADULT EMMA. I told you your behaviour was . . .

ADULT CLARE. Not your words.

ADULT EMMA. Inappropriate . . . I said that . . .

ADULT CLARE. Those are somebody else’s words, Emma!

ADULT EMMA. They’re my words. I said them.

ADULT CLARE. When?

ADULT EMMA. When you took the photographs.

ADULT CLARE. I never did that.

ADULT EMMA. I told you it wasn’t right.

ADULT CLARE. I know I wouldn’t have done that.

ADULT EMMA. You took a camera, an old one, your father’s,

you said he wouldn’t miss it.

ADULT CLARE. No, you see, because I didn’t like going in

there, that room, all dark, not even dark, black and it had
this smell, it smelt of damp and coffee.

ADULT EMMA. It had this big lens on it.

ADULT CLARE. I never understood why you told people I did

that.

ADULT EMMA. Meant you could see right into their living
room from where you sat.

ADULT CLARE. You were telling lies, you’re still telling the
same lies.

ADULT EMMA. They found those photographs, you must

know that. Those photographs were printed.

ADULT CLARE. Everything was printed and anything was

said.

ADULT EMMA. You can’t deny that they existed.

ADULT CLARE. I’m not – I’m saying it wasn’t me. Anybody

could’ve taken them.

ADULT EMMA. Anybody didn’t, though. You did. It’s a fact.

A solid, black-and-white fact.
ADULT CLARE. If I took those pictures – and I didn’t – but if
I did, why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you stop me if
you thought it was wrong?

ADULT EMMA. I couldn’t.

ADULT CLARE. You did nothing. But it was enough.

36 The Park

The girls are pushing Shannon on a swing.

EMMA. ‘We love babies!’ When on God’s green Earth did we decide that
we loved babies?

CLARE. Shut up, Emma. It’s all right, isn’t it? I mean it’s
good craic.

EMMA. It’s good craic for her. (Indicating Shannon.) She has
two dickheads taking turns to push her swing.

CLARE. And Dervla’s delighted. I mean we’re giving her a

break.

EMMA. Here, do you think she’ll pay us?

CLARE. Do you know what they did last night?

EMMA. Are you still watching?

CLARE (nods). Don’t tell anyone.

EMMA. I won’t.

CLARE. They were dancing.

EMMA. Dancing?

CLARE. In the living room.

EMMA. Just the two of them?

CLARE. Who else?

EMMA. Not proper dancing though, Shannon’s too wee.

CLARE. Well, she had her in her arms to start with, then she
put her down and took her by the hands, they were twirling
round and round, she was in stitches.

EMMA. Shannon was?

CLARE. Dervla.

EMMA. Aye, my da used to do that with me. Sometimes he

still tries to. State of him.

CLARE. It’s great, isn’t it? Just them together. I think it’s
great. It’s better like that; you know they seem dead happy,
don’t they? And sometimes they just sit, they just sit there and
watch the TV and it’ll just be cartoons, you know, stupid
cartoons, the boring ones, the real baby ones but it doesn’t
matter, she doesn’t care. It just looks right, I always think to myself, that looks
right. It’s a wee picture. It’s safe.

EMMA She wants down.

CLARE. What?

EMMA. Shannon, do you want down, doll? (Lifts her down

from the swing.) She’s tired. Let’s take her home. Come
on, wee woman, your mammy’ll be wondering where we
are.

37 The Room

ADULT EMMA. You think if I’d told somebody it could’ve

been different.

ADULT CLARE. I don’t know.

ADULT EMMA. You’d be right to think it. If I’d said

something, if we’d gone somewhere else, if they’d moved to
a different street. It all so easily might not have happened.

ADULT CLARE. Don’t say that.

ADULT EMMA. Why?

ADULT CLARE. What use is it? It’s useless.

ADULT EMMA. It was just one day. That’s all. One stupid
day. We could have done a dozen different things, gone a
dozen different places that day.

ADULT CLARE. What might have happened doesn’t matter.

Thinking about what might’ve happened can’t do anything,
can’t undo anything. What might’ve happened has never
been any good to me.

40 The Street

EMMA (out of breath). There you are. I was down at the park
looking for you and everything. Right, the bad news is I
went to the shop and Dennis says he doesn’t have any rope,
and if he did . . . (Remembers what he said.) and if he did
he’d effing hang himself with it rather than spend another
day working in this hole. (Beat.) The good news is Pete
has some. He said he’ll charge a pound for it. The other bad
news is Laura has her eye on the same lamp post. (Deep
breath.) Now, I have fifty p so I just need you to get the
other half.

CLARE. Look.

EMMA. No time, Clare. This is serious, come on.

CLARE. No, but look. There’s a man knocking on Dervla’s
door. He’s been there ages.

EMMA. Big deal. Did you not hear what I said?

CLARE. She’s in the house and she’s not answering.

EMMA. Well, he must be one of them Jehovah Witnesses or

something. My ma makes us switch off the TV and hide
whenever they call round.

CLARE. But he knows her. He’s been calling her name

through the letter box and everything.

EMMA. And what? Who gives a shit? We can’t lose our swing
to Laura – come on Clare, shift.

CLARE. Who do you think he is?

41 The Room

ADULT EMMA. Our Lady must have wept a lot that week,
the week he showed up. Still hot, but pissing with rain –
and for most of it he was there standing on her doorstep –
drenched, knocking, he was always knocking, you said. You
weren’t so taken with him. It felt like the longest seven days
of my life. There was nothing to do.

42 The Street

Heavy rain. CLARE and EMMA sit in the shelter playing

cards.

CLARE. Snap.

EMMA. Raging.

They play again.

CLARE. Snap.

EMMA. For God’s sake! Raging! Well, I still have more cards,
I’m still the winner. You’re the LOSER. You’re the LOSER!
Clare? Clare?

CLARE. Sorry? What?

EMMA. I was just, it doesn’t matter. What’s wrong with you?

You’re really quiet.

CLARE. I’m thinking.

EMMA. About what?

CLARE. Nothing.

EMMA. Look at us, stuck here playing cards. (Beat.) God, I

hate Laura. I hate her. I wish she would just die. She hasn’t
taken her arse off that swing since her big fatso da put it up
for her.

CLARE. She’s not on it now.

EMMA. Only cos it’s bucketing, she might ruin her ringlets.

CLARE. There’s swings in the park. I mean, if you really want

a swing.

EMMA. They’re crap.

CLARE. Mammy’s going away.

43 Clare’s Bedroom
CLARE’S MOTHER. Look at me, Clare. Look at me. You
need to pay attention to this. It’s a week, right. I’m going to
hang them up in order, so you just have to lift them out, you
start with this blue dress here and you work your way back.
Are you following me, Clare? (Beat.) What else? (Pause.)
Oh, all your hair bobbles are lined up here, on the dresser
so they’re in the same order as the outfits, right, okay – so
that’s Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and all your underwear
is in your top drawer there and your socks, wear your ankle
socks now, don’t be running around in knee socks, they’re
for school. I hate girls running around in knee socks in the
summer. Don’t be walking about like a tramp, Clare, you’re
a big girl now – this is your responsibility.

44 The Street

Returning to the card game.

EMMA. Snap! Ha ha! Where’s she going?

CLARE. Donegal. With my Aunt Kathy.

EMMA. Snap.

CLARE. Don’t lie.

EMMA. Sorry, I thought they were both the same.

CLARE. A club and a diamond?

EMMA. Do you not want her to go?

CLARE. Naw.

EMMA. I know how you feel.

CLARE. Really?

EMMA. Aye, my ma went away for five days one time and my
hair never got brushed.

CLARE. I brush my own hair.

EMMA. So do I. Now.

CLARE. Snap. (Beat.) I saw the man at Dervla’s again. The

dark-haired man, he’s been there again.

EMMA. When?

CLARE. I saw him today, he rapped the door, and then he just
went away.

EMMA. That rhymes. You’re a poet and you don’t know it, ha
ha!

CLARE. Who is he, Emma?

EMMA. I dunno.

CLARE. He’s always there. He’s always knocking.

EMMA. Guess what?

CLARE. I wish he’d just go away. Banging on windows,

banging on doors. I wish he’d just leave them alone.

EMMA. Laura kicked Connor in the face this morning.

Everybody thinks she’s so good and so perfect, but she had
Connor on the ground and was kicking the shit out of him.
You wanted to see the state of him when she’d finished, face
on him like a butcher’s window. There’s no need for that
like.

CLARE. You punched Connor in the back yesterday.

EMMA. Ach, Clare, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not
talking about me punching Connor. I’m talking about her
being a dick. (Holding her hand out from under the shelter.)
I think it’s stopping. Come on, let’s go and walk the baby.

45 The Room

ADULT EMMA. It just got worse. The rain. We had to stay

inside. I didn’t see much of you at all. Then I was up
tidying my room, well, pushing things into my cupboard,
and I stopped to look out the window. There you were.
Sitting on the railings at the bottom of the street, on your
own, just sitting there. You were wearing two different
socks, it was obvious they were different as well, one was
red and the other was yellow. I went out to you, I had my
father’s coat with me and I held it over both our heads.
I didn’t ask you why you were there, I didn’t ask you why
you had no coat on, or why you were wearing two different
socks. I just started talking, I told you about my Aunt Rita
saying she had this great surprise for me, which turned out
to be a statue of the Virgin Mary that glows in the dark,
about me bouncing on my bed, breaking three springs, and
trying to hide the evidence. Sometimes you’d smile or nod,
sometimes you would laugh or say ‘really?’, but I don’t
know if you were listening. So when I’d ran out of things to
say, I just sat there, swinging my legs, beside you, on the
railings, in the rain. Then I saw what you’d been looking at,
on the telephone wires, above the street, rows and rows of
birds who’d been sitting to attention, were beginning to fly
away and your eyes were following them. You never took
your eyes off them, then you stood up, you stood up and
almost under your breath you said, ‘She let him in today,
she opened the door and she let him in.’

46 Clare’s Bedroom

CLARE is sitting on the floor. She has a basin of water

between her legs, a pile of dolls’ clothing on her left and a
collection of naked dolls on her right. EMMA enters the room.

CLARE. What are you doing here? How did you get in?

EMMA. It was open, your da’s out in the street, he said just to
come on up.

CLARE. Well, you’ll have to go. I’m too busy. You’ll have to
go.

EMMA. I’m sick of this. If you don’t want to play with me

any more, just say. I mean if you and your toys are too good
for me you can just sod off. Laura the second, that’s who
you are.

CLARE. No. I’m telling the truth. I need to clean up the mess.

EMMA. What mess?

CLARE. I need to tidy the whole room, under my bed,

everywhere, I need to tidy it all up cos when Mammy
comes back . . . When Mammy comes back she’ll kill me.

EMMA. It looks grand.

CLARE. It’s filthy, it’s dirty, even these (the dolls), even these
stupid things, they’re disgusting. They all need to be
washed. She’ll go mad. So you see I have no time, that’s all.

EMMA. I’ll give you a hand.

CLARE. Okay. Right. Okay. Umm, now hold on, don’t touch
anything yet, not yet, I want to do them all in order.

EMMA. God, Clare, your ma would have an actual heart

attack if she lived in our house.

CLARE. Aye, she would.

EMMA. Our Marty’s a dirty bastard. (Examining a doll she

has in her hand.) I can’t put this one in.

CLARE. Aye, you can.

EMMA. No look, it has a battery part at the back, it’ll get

ruined.
CLARE. I want her washed, I want all of them clean, it doesn’t
matter if the stupid thing doesn’t work, I never play with it.
As long as it looks okay, it doesn’t matter if it’s broken, it
just sits there, it just sits there and gets looked at.

EMMA. You a mentalist, pure mad, but if that’s what you

want. (Immerses doll in water.) I nearly got my hole kicked
the time I washed our Marty’s electric car. He cried and
everything. I was only a baby like. Our Marty is such a
prick. (Pause.) So you found out who the man was, then.

CLARE. What man?

EMMA. What man! The man who’s been in Dervla’s . . . the

man you haven’t shut up about.

CLARE. No, how did I? What makes you think that?

EMMA. Oh, he’s out talking to your da.

CLARE. In the street?

EMMA. Aye.

CLARE. What? Now? (Running to window.) Where?

EMMA. They’re all standing at Dervla’s front door – him, her,

your da, Shannon.

CLARE. No they’re not, I can’t see them.

EMMA. They were, must be finished talking now.

CLARE. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.

EMMA. I did tell you.

CLARE. Sooner.

EMMA. Sorry, I thought you knew. I thought you were behind it.

CLARE. Behind what?

EMMA. Well, he . . . the man I mean . . . he was getting a

price from your da, he wants photos of Shannon, he wants a
big one for the living room, well that’s what he was saying.

CLARE. For Dervla’s living room.

EMMA. Aye.

CLARE. He wants a photo of Shannon for Dervla’s living

room?

EMMA. Aye.

CLARE. And what did she say?

EMMA. Dervla? Nothing, she was just smiling.

CLARE. Why is he sorting out photos of Shannon, what has it
got to do with him? He’s nobody, he’s a stranger.

EMMA. Oh wise up, Clare.

CLARE. What?

EMMA. You’re meant to be the smart one. He’s hardly a

stranger now.

CLARE. What?

EMMA. Shannon didn’t come from nowhere, did she? I mean

the stork didn’t bring her, did he? It’s pure obvious who he
must be. He must be the wain’s daddy.

47 The Room

ADULT EMMA. We’d been taking Shannon on walks, you

see. Taking her to the swings and she’d enjoyed it. We’d
been careful, but he said we couldn’t any more.

ADULT CLARE. Yeah. I remember telling you that.

ADULT EMMA. No reason, no explanation. He just asked us

to stay away. That’s what upset you.

ADULT CLARE. He didn’t say anything.

ADULT EMMA. He did. He called us over to the house that

morning.

ADULT CLARE. No.

ADULT EMMA. I was there.

ADULT CLARE. I told you about it. It didn’t actually happen.

ADULT EMMA. I’m sure I was there.

ADULT CLARE. I made it up.

ADULT EMMA. He must have said it.

ADULT CLARE. It didn’t need said.

ADULT EMMA. I don’t understand.

ADULT CLARE. I lied to you.

ADULT EMMA. You had no reason to.

ADULT CLARE. I just knew he wouldn’t want me near them

again.

ADULT EMMA. Why?

ADULT CLARE. I’m not sure.

ADULT EMMA. Why would you have thought that? Why did
you think he didn’t want you near them? (Beat.) It makes no
sense.

ADULT CLARE. This is where I stop. Usually it will all wrap

up somewhere around here. I get the desire, you see, to just
push both my hands against my face. To dig into the flesh
with my nails. Rip it open and pull all the contents out. So I
just . . .

ADULT EMMA. Forget.

ADULT CLARE. I stop.

A moment.

It was late, and it was dark and I was in my room. All over
now. The smell still everywhere. I could never sleep after
a nightmare. I mean . . . I know what I should have done.
I should have screamed and cried. I should have broken,
shattered, I should have tore things up and down. I should
have made noise. I should have opened my mouth and let
all the noise, any noise just stream out. And it did rise up in
me. It went right up through my gut, across my chest and
into my throat, but it would get lodged there, get stuck, it
never did reach my mouth, my lips, it just slowly slid back
down, then the threat was over, it settled, subsided, rested.

Silence.

I pulled a chair up to my window and opened it wide. I

wanted some air. Across the street her light was on, the
curtains were pulled but her light was still on. She never did
call me, you see. She said she would call me and I could
walk the baby but she never did. There were other things.
Other new exciting things, it slipped her mind. I couldn’t
stop thinking about it – him – him turning up out of
nowhere and now he’s in her house. Late at night, curtains
drawn, deciding where he’ll hang his new photograph. And
I’m putting on my shoes. I’m creeping down the stairs, out
the door and I don’t know why. I just want to go to her
house – just to be there. And it’s so quiet, it’s a ghost town.
(Beat.) Now here I am standing in my white nightdress and
my black shoes. My good black patent shoes, standing at
her front steps. At her window, there was a gap, just a little
one, but enough to have a look. I needed to and this would
be the last time, this would be the very last time. So I did.
I looked. I knelt down and I looked. I wish I hadn’t. (Beat.)
There they were, both of them, lying on the sofa. Well she
was, he wasn’t, he was lying on her, pushing down on her,
one hand in her top and the other up her skirt, grabbing and
pushing and pawing and all the time slobbering, slabbering
all over her, as if it wasn’t bad enough, as if she needed his
breath on her, he was . . . he was . . . all fat and sweat and
red. And then her skirt started moving up, you see. Sliding
up, and for a minute I couldn’t work it out – because he
hadn’t stopped what he was doing. But then I saw what it
was. It was her, it was her doing it herself, pulling her own
skirt up, up over her hips and then she was tugging at his
belt, you know, opening it. She was. Herself. And my head
was melting, you know, my head was spinning, I mean, I
was thinking why would she, why would she want to do
that, to get it over, to have it finished maybe to end it
quickly, you know like pulling a plaster off or something
and I did it without thinking, I made a fist with my right
hand and banged it on the window, once, and it stayed there,
my hand on the window. He didn’t hear it, but she turned
her head, slightly, I mean she hardly moved at all but it was
enough, enough to see me standing there, watching . . . just
looking at her. Her face turned grey, like she was sick. Like
she was about to vomit, and I knew what she thought of me.
Because I thought it myself. Then I turned on my heel, I ran.

48 The Street

EMMA is throwing a ball against the curb of the pavement.

EMMA. Sod him!

CLARE. It’s not a big deal, Emma, really.

EMMA. No, sod him! The bastard. He doesn’t even

know us. I hated taking the thing out anyway, all she did
was cry. But to see Laura pushing her about, that’s not on.
Laura pushing her about, looking all clever, as if to say,
‘This used to be your job, didn’t it? But you weren’t good
enough.’ I’m going to hit that Laura such a dig.

CLARE. It’s not Laura’s fault.

EMMA. Everything is Laura’s fault, she probably told him

about us smoking that time, that ONE TIME. I’m going to
kill her. (Beat.) First she takes our swing, then our wain,
bitch.

CLARE. It’s nothing to do with Laura.

EMMA. Who does he think he is? Why does he not like us? I
mean, what the hell is there not to like about us?

CLARE. Maybe he saw you fighting or something.

EMMA. Don’t try and blame me.

CLARE. We should just forget about it now.

EMMA. I mean you should have seen Laura down there,

swinging Shannon about like a rag doll, as if the wain
would even enjoy that, why didn’t she just take her to the
park? She’s doing it so we see her, its all for show. I’m
going to say something to Dervla as well, I mean we
haven’t even done anything wrong, for once; I’m going to
ask what’s going on.

CLARE. No, don’t.

EMMA. I have done nothing wrong, and her bastard boyfriend

decides I’m not good enough to take her stupid baby for a
walk. When I’ve been doing it all this time – we’ve been
doing it all this time.

CLARE. You’re not going to talk to her.

EMMA. Aye, like you’ll stop me.

CLARE. You’ll show yourself up.

EMMA. And what?

CLARE. I said no.

CLARE grabs EMMA’s clothing and stops her from

moving.

EMMA. Stop it . . . Leave me, you mentalist, you

psycho. (Shouts.) Let go!

CLARE lets go.

49 The Room / The Tree House

ADULT EMMA. That’s why you went to Dervla’s that day.

You must’ve gone to number fourteen to apologise, to
explain maybe.

ADULT CLARE. But when I reach the house, the front door’s
open.

ADULT EMMA. And you went inside.

ADULT CLARE. No. I don’t need to because, she – the baby –

Shannon, is sitting in the front garden with some toys,
sitting on this blue blanket.

ADULT EMMA. I was in the park.

ADULT CLARE. All on her own.

ADULT EMMA. I was on one of the swings.

CLARE. Hello wee doll.

ADULT EMMA. Then you turned up.

ADULT CLARE. And just like that. It was done.

ADULT EMMA. You had Shannon by the hand.

EMMA. What’s going on?

CLARE. It’s okay. It’s all right. She wants to see the tree
house. (Beat.) Will we take you to the tree house, Shannon?

ADULT CLARE. You searched in your pocket and you said:

EMMA. Now, let’s see, what do we have here?

ADULT CLARE. You produced a lollipop for her. (Beat.) A
bright blue lollipop.

ADULT EMMA. A bright yellow lollipop. And her face was

dancing and her chubby wee hands couldn’t get the wrapper
off, so I did it for her and you said:

CLARE. There you go, wee woman, that’s better, isn’t it?

ADULT EMMA. Then we started walking.

ADULT CLARE. But it’s so far away.

ADULT EMMA. Seemed even further that day. And the rain
started again. Pouring down, and I wasn’t sure what we
were doing or why we were doing it – I just kept following
you. I just kept moving.

ADULT CLARE. Where was she?

ADULT EMMA. What?

ADULT CLARE. Was she with you or with me?

ADULT EMMA. With you.

ADULT CLARE. All the time?

ADULT EMMA. We took turns carrying her for a while. There

was so much rain. You needed to lead the way. I had her for
a little while.

EMMA. Come on, pull your wee jumper up over your head.

ADULT CLARE. We carried her.

ADULT EMMA. Yes.

ADULT CLARE. All the way?

ADULT EMMA. We carried her.

ADULT CLARE. I thought I looked back. I thought I looked

back and she was standing. I can see her standing beside you.

EMMA. Shannon. You’re gonna get wet. Come on.

ADULT EMMA. Well, we were so tired. I had to let her walk.

ADULT CLARE. And that’s why it’s taking longer. She’s so

slow.

ADULT EMMA. I tried to make her walk faster. I had her arm
and I was . . .

ADULT CLARE. . . . dragging her along. Then she started to

cry.

ADULT EMMA. She cried because she hurt her legs. She
walked through some nettles. You were shouting:
CLARE. Emma, why are you just standing there? Why is she
crying?

EMMA. Her legs are all sore.

CLARE. Then pick her up, pick her up and come on.

EMMA. Maybe we should go back.

CLARE. No, we can’t.

EMMA. The rain, Clare.

CLARE. We can’t, not now – anyway, we’re nearly there.

EMMA (to Shannon). Ssh doll, we’re nearly there, then you’ll
see the big tree house, you’ll like that.

ADULT EMMA. She didn’t want to go up the ladder.

ADULT CLARE. I thought we could just stay there for a

while.

EMMA. Come on, Shannon, don’t be scared. Shannon, come

on . . . We’re soaking.

ADULT CLARE. Just the three of us.

EMMA. She won’t move, Clare . . . I can’t get her to move.

ADULT CLARE. You lifted her up.

ADULT EMMA. You took her in your arms.

CLARE (to Shannon). There we go, it’s all over now, it’s
finished now. Look, look where you are. This is nice, isn’t
it? Ssh, you can ssh now.

ADULT EMMA. It wasn’t nice, not any more, it was damp,

and we were all wet. The tree house looked like shit without
the help of the sun.

ADULT CLARE. The worrying had already started. It began

almost as soon as the rain did. When Dervla ran outside to
bring Shannon in from playing, into the shelter, into the
heat – only to find she’d vanished, she’d gone.

ADULT EMMA. The whole street were out, looking,

searching, saying it would be all right, saying she just
wandered off, children wander off.

ADULT CLARE. Everyone sick to the stomach, some thinking

the worst, some thinking of strangers and bad men. But
there wasn’t any. There was only us. (Beat.) She wouldn’t
look at anything, I wanted her to see, but . . .

CLARE. Why won’t you look at anything? Quiet, Shannon.

Look, Shannon, look. It’s okay.

ADULT EMMA. She was crying so much, not listening and

her breathing was all funny, her nose was running down into
her mouth, her face was purple.

CLARE. Sitting there rambling. Just shut up. Please, Shannon,

be quiet now. Do as you’re told.

EMMA. Ssh.

CLARE. Why won’t she shut up?

EMMA. Ssh.

CLARE. I need her to be quiet, Emma. I can’t . . . Make her

shut up.

EMMA. Ssh.

ADULT CLARE. All I wanted was for us to be there, the three

of us, together, all high up, all safe, but . . .

ADULT EMMA. . . . she was screaming, and the rain

thumping down, and her screaming. And I knew they’d
think I was bad.

CLARE. Do something, Emma!

ADULT EMMA. But I didn’t hit her.

CLARE. Shut up.

ADULT EMMA. It wasn’t me. I didn’t hit the baby.

CLARE. Just shut the fuck up.

EMMA. This is wrong.

ADULT EMMA. I wanted to take her back.

ADULT CLARE. No. You never once said that. I can hear you
shouting – I can hear you screaming but I can’t hear you
say that.

EMMA screams and shakes Shannon.

EMMA. Shut up! How can she cry so much?

CLARE. What is wrong with you? Stop it.

ADULT EMMA. Nothing worked, not lifting her, not nursing

her . . .

CLARE. Stop it, stop fucking crying.

EMMA. She just wants her mammy.

CLARE. Well, she’s not here. (To Shannon.) Your mammy’s

not here, is she? So shut the fuck up.

She picks Shannon up, keeping her at arm’s length, moving

to the edge of the tree house, holding her over it.
ADULT EMMA. Give her to me, I said.

CLARE. Be quiet! Are you stupid? Be fucking quiet.

ADULT CLARE. Did you?

ADULT EMMA. I wish I’d said give her to me.

CLARE. Look, Shannon, look down there, do what I’m telling

you, look down, do as I say. Look. I said look.

ADULT CLARE. Close your eyes, I said.

CLARE. Are you stupid? Just be quiet, just shut your fucking
mouth.

ADULT CLARE. Just ssh, it’s okay, just close your wee eyes, I
told her.

CLARE. I can do it too.

CLARE screams, and continues to scream until she runs

out of breath. She shakes Shannon violently.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

ADULT EMMA. It was a matter of seconds, as quickly as it

started really.

ADULT CLARE. I threw her. I threw her down.

ADULT EMMA. She slipped. She slipped through your hands.

ADULT CLARE. I dropped her. She didn’t slip, she just

dropped.

ADULT EMMA. You dropped her and she was lying in the
muck. (Beat.) We didn’t do anything for a while, we just
stood there. We just stared. I mean she could’ve been
sleeping. I thought she might move.

CLARE screams.

ADULT CLARE. She didn’t though, did she? She never did.

CLARE. It’s okay.

EMMA. She just wandered off.

CLARE. It’s all right.

EMMA. She wandered off herself and fell.

ADULT EMMA. We pulled the carpet from the tree house. It

was wet, so it was heavy.

EMMA. We need to move her, Clare!

ADULT EMMA. I think it was my idea.

EMMA. She can’t be seen!

ADULT EMMA. We wrapped her up in the red rug, the one I

bought with your father’s money.

EMMA. Come on, Clare. I need your help. I need you to help
me.

ADULT EMMA. Then we covered it with leaves.

ADULT CLARE. We ran. We went home. My dress was all

dirty. I got changed. I hid it under my pillow. I didn’t want
my mother to see.

ADULT EMMA. It didn’t take them long.

ADULT CLARE. No. They soon slotted the big clumsy jigsaw
pieces together.

ADULT EMMA. It was I’d say a matter of hours, then . . .

ADULT CLARE. They knew, they found her.

ADULT EMMA. Asking me just to tell the truth.

ADULT CLARE. They waited with their breath held and their
pencils sharpened.

ADULT EMMA. Just tell the truth and everything will be

okay.

ADULT CLARE. They didn’t want the truth. They wanted a

monster.

ADULT EMMA. I think it broke my father. I think it finished

him.

ADULT CLARE. Instead they got me.

ADULT EMMA. They got us. (Beat.) I didn’t get away, you
know.

Silence.

ADULT CLARE. I have this dream. I’m standing in the street.

We both are.

ADULT EMMA. I’ve been stuck here too, in my own way.

ADULT CLARE. Your hair’s hanging round your face – you’re

trying to shake a stone from your shoe.

ADULT EMMA. I think I’ll be stuck here forever.

ADULT CLARE. I’m walking on the left and you’re on the

right and in the middle there’s this dog. It’s carrying
Shannon on its back, but we’re holding her, we’re keeping
her steady. The tree house is behind us, in the distance, I
can see it. Its leaves are glistening green, emerald green.
(Beat.) And we’re walking away from it.

ADULT EMMA. Stuck in that day. Stuck in that moment. Like

that’s all there is.

ADULT CLARE. We’re trying to get away – far away.

ADULT EMMA. That’s all we are.

ADULT CLARE. But every footstep is bringing us closer.

ADULT EMMA. One moment, one second.

ADULT CLARE. And we can’t understand.

ADULT EMMA. One stupid day.

ADULT CLARE. Moving away but getting closer.

ADULT EMMA. Nothing else matters.

ADULT CLARE. And there we are again, the three of us . . .

ADULT EMMA. And anything that came before or anything

that came afterwards . . .

ADULT CLARE. . . . Standing at the foot of the tree.

ADULT EMMA. . . . Is just irrelevant, extra, filler.

ADULT CLARE. And when we look behind us, the road has
disappeared; we’re stuck there, no way back. And all we
can see is the tree house, the big green tree house. But we
don’t climb up, we just stay where we are, we stay there
holding her, keeping her steady. Frozen, just waiting,
waiting for me to open my eyes, waiting for me to wake up.

End.