Teresa Lines

MARY

Hello?... What time is it?... I wouldn't be talking to you if I was, would I? I'd be unconscious...Where are you?... Jesus...you're what? So, will you want me to pick you up from the station?

The door opens and TERESA comes in.

Oh...

MARY

Hold on...(to TERESA) It's not for you.

Who is it?

MARY

(to caller) What? She's gone where?... OK, OK. I'll come see you later. Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up—

She's cut off.

Hello?...Shit.

Who was that?

MARY

A nuisance caller. We struck up a rapport.

He's not staying here, is he?

MARY

Who?

I'm assuming it's your boyfriend.

MARY

How much sleep have I had?

She picks up a portable alarm clock and peers at it.

How's his wife?

MARY

Jesus. Two and a half hours.

She flops back on the pillows. Looks at TERESA.

Why are you looking so awake?

I've been up since a quarter past five. Presumably, he's leaving her at home, then.

MARY

You've got that slight edge in your voice. Like a blunt saw.

I'm just asking—

MARY

Of course, he's bloody leaving her at home. She's gone to stay with her mother.

I thought she was ill.

MARY

Maybe she went in an iron lung. Maybe she made a miracle recovery. I don't know. I didn't ask.

Where's he going to sleep?

MARY

What?

You can't sleep with him in that bed.

MARY

He's staying in a hotel.

I thought it might be something important.

MARY

What?

The phone. Funeral directors or something.

MARY

We've done all that. Can I go back to sleep?

And where's Catherine?

MARY

She said she might stay over with someone.

Does she still have friends here?

MARY

Probably. I don't know.

She turns away, settles down, and shuts her eyes. TERESA watches her for a while.

She could have phoned to say. Anything could have happened to her. It's still snowing.

MARY

She's twenty-two, Teresa.

The roads are terrible.

MARY

She'll get a taxi.

Probably just as well she didn't come home. She'd have probably drunk four bottles of cider and been brought home in a police car. And then she'd have been sick all over the television.

MARY

She was thirteen when she did that.

She was lucky she didn't get electrocuted.

MARY

It wasn't switched on.

Yes it was, I was watching it. It was 'The Chase'.

MARY

No, it wasn't. I wish you'd stop remembering things that didn't actually happen.

I was there. You weren't

MARY

I was there.

That was the other time. The time when she ate the cannabis.

MARY

That was me. I ate hash cookies

It was Catherine

MARY

It was me.

I was there.

MARY

So where was I?

Doing your homework, probably. Dissecting frogs. Skinning live rabbits. Strangling cats. The usual Jeffery Dahmer shit.

MARY

Teresa. I'd like to get another hour's sleep. I'm not in the mood, OK?

She tries to settle down in bed, and pulls something out that's causing her discomfort: a glass contraption with a rubber bulb at one end. She puts it on the bedside table and settles down again. TERESA picks it up.

Oh, for God's sake... Is this what I think it is?

MARY

I don't know. What d'you think it is?

A vibrator

MARY

I found it on top of the wardrobe. I think I'd like to have it.

Why?

MARY

Because you've got the watch and the engagement ring.

For Lucy. Not for me. For Lucy.

MARY

OK. So you want the vibrator. Have it.

I don't want it.

MARY

Good. That's settled. Now let me go to sleep.

You can't just take things willy-nilly.

MARY

You did.

Oh, I see. I see what this is about.

MARY sits up.

MARY

It's not about anything, it's about me trying to get some sleep. For Christ's sake, Teresa, it's too early in the morning for this.

MARY pulls the covers over her head. Silence. TERESA goes to the door, turns back.

Could you keep off the phone, I'm waiting for Frank to ring and my mobile's recharging—

MARY

If you take that phone to the funeral this time

Oh, go to sleep.

MARY

I'm surprised Dad didn't burst out of his coffin and punch you.

I didn't know it was in my bag.

MARY

You could have turned it off. You didn't have to speak to them.

I didn't speak to them.

MARY

You did. I heard you. You told them you were in a meeting.

You're imagining this. This is a completely false memory.

MARY

All memories are false.

Mine aren't

MARY

Yours in particular.

Oh, I see, mine are all false but yours aren't

MARY

That's not what I said.

And what's with the glasses?

MARY

I couldn't sleep with the light on.

You could have turned it off.

MARY

I was frightened of the dark.

When did this start?

MARY

It's all right for you. You're not sleeping in her bed.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

MARY

You grabbed the spare room pretty sharpish.

I was here first.

MARY

Have the sheets been changed?

Yes.

MARY

When?

What difference does it make?

MARY

I don't like sleeping in her bed, that's all.

She didn't die in it.

MARY

She was the last person in it. It's full of bits of skin and hair that belong to her

Stop it.

MARY

And it makes me feel uncomfortable.

What bits of skin and hair?

MARY

You shed cells. They fall off when you're asleep. I found a toenail before.

Please.

MARY

I thought I might keep it in a locket around my neck. Or maybe you'd like it—

Stop it, for goodness sake.

She picks up a book from the bedside table.

You can't leave work alone for five minutes, can you, even at a time like this?

MARY

I've a very sick patient.

You had a very sick mother.

MARY

Don't start, Teresa.

Oh, she never complained. Because your jobs important. I mean, doctors are second to God, whereas Frank and I only have a business to run, so obviously, we could drop everything in a moment's notice.

MARY

It's not my fault.

Why do we always do this?

MARY

What?

Why do we always argue?

MARY

We don't argue, we bicker.

OK, why do we bicker?

MARY

Because we don't get on.

Yes we do.

MARY

Oh, have it your own way.

She unscrews the whisky and takes a swig.

You haven't even got out of bed yet.

MARY

It's the only way we're going to get through this.

D'you often have a drink in the morning?

MARY

Of course I bloody don't, what d'you think I am?

Lots of doctors are alcoholics. It's the stress.

MARY

Someone dies, you drink whisky. It's normal, it's a sedative, it's what normal people do at abnormal times.

She takes another swig. Silence.

OK. Let's be nice to each other.

Silence.

What do people usually talk about when their mothers' just died?

I don't know. Funeral arrangements. What colour coffin. I've got a list somewhere.

MARY

There should be a set form. Like those books on wedding etiquette. Sudden Death Etiquette. Lesson one. Breaking the news. Phrases to avoid include: guess what?

I was distraught, I wasn't thinking properly—

MARY

I thought you'd won the lottery or something -

It's quite tricky for you, being nice, isn't it.

MARY

Sorry. I forgot. How are you feeling?

I was expecting him to phone an hour ago.

MARY

I'm not talking about Frank.

I don't know how I feel. Everything I eat tastes of salt.

Salt. Everything tastes of it.

The funeral director's got a plastic hand.

MARY

God.

Pause.

What's it like?

Pink.

MARY

What happened to his real one?

How should I know?

MARY

Didn't you ask him?

It didn't seem appropriate.

MARY

No. I suppose not.

He was showing us pictures of coffins.

MARY

Oh God.

In here

CATHERINE

Oh, brilliant, whiskey.

Where've you been?

CATHERINE

Shopping.

Shopping?

CATHERINE

Well, you'd call it a displacement activity, but I call it shopping

All night?

CATHERINE

I went for a drink. I stayed with some friends.

What friends?

CATHERINE

You don't know them. Oh God, there it goes again. Have you ever had this? Right here. Right at the bottom of your stomach?

No.

CATHERINE

What d'you think it is?

MARY

I've no idea.

We've been worried sick

CATHERINE

Do any of your patients actually survive

You could have picked up a phone. I mean where've you been?

CATHERINE

Down the docks shagging sailors, what d'you think?

MARY

I'd have come with you if I'd known.

It's just a bit insensitive.

MARY

Yes it is. There's a time and a place for everything—

Disappearing, leaving us to deal with all this—

CATHERINE

All what? D'you like my shoes? I can't stop buying shoes. I even like the smell of them. Honestly, it's just like an eating disorder except it's not, it's just shoes, although sometimes it's underwear.

D'you ever get that, you have to buy twenty pairs of knickers all at once, usually when you're a bit depressed -

You can't wear those to the funeral. You look like James Charles.

CATHERINE

What's wrong with them?

I thought you didn't have any money?

CATHERINE

Credit cards. What's wrong with them?

You said you were broke.

MARY

I hate them. Can I go back to sleep now?

I'm just wondering how you can afford to go out and buy all this stuff if you haven't got any money.

CATHERINE

So all right, I know, Mum's dead—

There's no need to put it like that—

CATHERINE

Some of the things you say to me are just, you know, not on. It's like I don't count. All my bloody life. And I'm not having it any more. I won't take it anymore, OK?

Have you been taking drugs, Catherine?

CATHERINE

Oh, for God's sake! I was in a really good mood till I walked in here.

Your mother's just died, how can you be in a good mood? Try and be a bit more sensitive—

CATHERINE

You see, this is what you do to me. This permanent, constant, endless belittling.

He didn't call.

CATHERINE

I'm about to marry him, and you can't even get his name right.

MARY

You're always about to marry people.

CATHERINE

What's that supposed to mean?

MARY

And you never do.

Oh shut up, both of you.

MARY

Not for you, no. They're in the pocket. Now, will you both go away and let me get some sleep?

Would anyone like some Barley Cup?

CATHERINE

I'd rather drink my own urine.

MARY

You may laugh.

I do not drink my own urine.

CATHERINE

Haven't we got any ordinary tea?

That stuff in the kitchen's made from floor sweepings. You might as well drink liquid cancer.

MARY

God, you do talk absolute shit sometimes

Some people think that drinking your own urine—

MARY

Yes, I know. And they're all mad.

You're always so certain when it comes to things you know nothing about.

MARY

You know bugger all about bugger all.

You've a completely closed mind. It infuriates me. You're so supercilious you don't even listen—

MARY

If God had meant you to ingest your own urine, he'd have rigged up a drinking-straw arrangement directly from your bladder. To save you the indignity of squatting over a teacup. Now, please, I just want an hour.

There are things to do.

CATHERINE

I'm going to have a hot bath and a joint. I can't stand this.

So once again it's me. Everything falls to me.

MARY

Go and have a lie-down, Teresa.

I can't lie down, I can't sit still. I can't cope. I need some Rescue Remedy.

MARY

I've got some beta blockers, they're much better -

I get agitated. I get like this. I don't need drugs

Brown one and a half pounds of shin of beef in a heavy casserole. Remove and set aside. Sauté two medium onions in the casserole with two crushed cloves of garlic—

MARY

What are you doing?

Recipes. I recite recipes. It's very soothing. I've tried meditation, but my mind wanders. I think of all the phone calls I should be making instead of sitting there and going 'om'. Carbonnade of beef seems to work best.

MARY

You're a vegetarian.

I've tried it with nut loaf, but it's not the same. And now I've got that salt taste in my mouth, and I feel sick.