ONE LIFE
Should be read aloud as a one act play. An old lady in dire straights reminisces about her life. Try to imagine the quavering voice in any accent you fancy and put your own interpretation on it. If performed make what you feel is the necessary action to suite words
'It’s very cold. ...................I wonder should put the fire on..... .. .. ... ... .....I’d like a cup of tea, but..... .... Oh I don’t know.. but it would warm me up and that would be cheaper than having the fire on!’
My sister said she would come today.... .. ... ..........she won’t be happy without the fire on. She feels fhe cold you know.......its all right for her, she’s got that central heating, and its always on..... course she’s got money, not that I see any of it. . ... .. ... .. .....l would like a cup of tea!'
Ive had some in my time, money I mean,.. .....well I spent what I had..... I can’t remember going on holiday as a child,............. we must have gone some time cus I can remember the sea, and the smell of whelks and candy floss, oh, and that strange aroma of hotdogs. And the screaming from the girls on the dodgems, I wonder if they still have them? It was just a day trip. ... ....that’s not a qroper holiday is it!’
’I don’t know if I have any money for the meter anyway. . .............lets look in my purse. .............funny I had a photo in there, where’s it gone I wonder. He was a silly man. . . . . . . . . . . ...well aren’t all men, they want such pointless things.............my husband I mean. . . . . . . . ...well he thought he was an actor, act , he couldn’t fart for a living let alone act! Loved the smell of the grease paint, he said. I know what he liked, and it weren’t grease paint. Them girls, more like............I had that photo yesterday.’
’Thats when I was at the seaside, I remember now, he was on the end of the pier, in the show I mean. Pathetic, prancing about,.........at the time though he was the MAN..........what a fool I was........... ...when did the that man last come to empty the meter, he always gives some back..................now he's a nice man....I showed him the photo once. He just smiled!
When I was a young girl we had a Jesus man live in our street....... ....went about in a loin cloth.. .... ..didn’t feel the cold.
Ought to be in this place he’d feel the cold alright, perhaps he didn"t have enough for the gas. Well, any rate, one day he tried to fly, he’s with Jesus alright now, tried to fly off the town bridge, more fool him. I really would like a cup of tea.. .. .. ... . ...he’s alright now though, plenfy of tea there he s gone, I’ll be bound...........sometimes.................sometimes I wish..........well what do I wish;
(Sings in a tremulous voice)
Jesus loves me, yes I know
Cause the bible tells me so
Yes Jesus loves me
Yes Jesus loves me
’I used to be in the Sally Ann, played the tambourine. Oh I could whirl it up and down, bang if on elbows and my thighs, Quite carried away I was until themajor had me up on a charge, go easy on for thighs he said.... .. ..... . ... .. ... .....then be wanted to look at them........ .said they might be bruised! Well I was only young, I let him have a look, and before I knew it he was fumbling up my draws, and then, well......... He said I had a duty to God to let Jesus love me......... I’d rather it'd been the trombone player!
’I was in love you know. He was a butchers boy, well not stricktly a boy, that’s what they called them when they rode the delivery bike. He used to deliver the meat to our house. deliver the meat, he could do that alright, on Saturdays he used to give my mother an extra sausage. I know you got it wrong, jumped to conclusions! It was me mum who got the meat, I was just a young kid, but he had lonely eyes.
Ah, I remember those eyes. Where's that damn photo......... . ...now I think about it they were a bit sly...................you know I really would like a cup of tea......... He used to have a cup of tea, and a fag, like afterwards................I saw them once, behind the couch. His buttocks were milky white. my mxm's skirt was round her neck, and her white shocking legs stuck up in the air............... ...funny she never wore her bloomers on a Saturday.
Any rate I went off him a bit.............so did my mum when one Saturday dad came home from the Pub early. That Jesus guy should have seen it, he would have learnt how to fly. The butchers boy certainly did!' A pity really, Sunday lunch was never the same again, well not from the meat point of view.’
Silly to love a butchers boy who’s giving your mum one but he was so handsome.. ......but then he never really looked at me. I was heart
broken at the time, but you get over these things you know. course then I fell for my daft husband!’
“It was at Margate. I thitnk, ............or was if Morecambe? You know I can’t remember now.................,..it was near were I lived. .... ... the butcher boy would know. Well he certainly knew where we lived, he was there often enough!... .............I wonder where that photo is I could tell you then... ...........and I really could drink a cup of tea. . .... . .... ... . .....I expect my sister will make one when she gets here. . . . . .... .. ... ... ..you know she once brought a hot water bottle cause its so cold here, cheeky cow! mind you if I had her central hearing, and her money,. ...... . .... ....well I’d be warm as toast'
'In the end he was useless................well in that as well.............but that's how if is , ain't it.................I remember the beginning.........we were in digs always moving...I thought............ if I could remember where that money was for the gas...ah, well....................I was soppy, you know in love......couldn't wait for him to get back from the theatre....................but often he said he had to go and drink with the manager....................l'II give the bastard 'manager'...............when I see him that is .............been dead now for..............I'll show you that fuc..... if I knew...where can it be............it were here yesterday........my sister said I should have never married him......silly cow....what does she know................the afternoons where marvellous though..........but those damn beds...creak like helll!............landladies always listening.... god! we used have some fun......I would like a cuppa tea.
Get no help you know.....................old Amy at 73 she’s good to me..,.but she's knackered poor old sod......where would I be without her..............bought me same new knickers the other day. God knows where she got them from........ my sister said I was begining to stink........what she know...its the bath... never been right
I used to go to the slipper baths when I was girl .......super ....every Friday.plent of hot water there....not like this poxy place...its the council you know...and them f-ing in social workers..... want me to go...all I need is some hot water....and you should see the state of them toilets......discusting.... jeese I could do with a tea and a fag.
(These parts are in the full voice of a younger woman)
I remember the summers the best, we had some good times, Ronnie and me. All round the south coast. Margate, Ramsgate, Hastings, Brighton, ah Brighton, that was my favourite, any rate anywhere there was an end of pier show, Bognor, Butlins there,very classy we thought at the time, old Billy did us proud, top theatre, they wanted Ronnie to be a red coat, could a been a Des O’Connor, but Ronnie thought he was above that.
Gosport and Portsmouth, rough that you know, sailors give you no chance, and they always wanna get inside your knickers. Once, well we won't go into that, Bournemouth, very refined in those days, Weymouth, and that was about it.
They were happy years, the show moved round, and Ronnie was the star. I thought so anyway. He was song and dance, lots-o-other things he could do, juggle, magic, fair hand on the piano, could tell jokes, do almost anything. Manager said, Ronnie you my top man, he was so helpful, always helped with the packing.
Had a wandering eye though, you know for the women. Well, wadda-you expect - show business - dancing girls and the like, plus some mums. They were the worst - kinda laid it on for him - I thought he was a bit kinky for older women.
Got into a lodda difficulty in Bournemouth. The lady in question was also our landlady. Lovely digs. She always gave us best back room, quiet you know, with our own sink, and could use her toilet and bath. Very convenient. Even brought us breakfast in bed.
Very nice until one day she wanted to get in with us.....I ask yer....she said she was in distress. her daughter was giving her problems and she had no else to turn to, a likely story, anyway I was young at the time, and didn't know what I know now. Jesus, before I know where I am she's godda hand up my nighty, on my tit, and Ronrries's lining up to come in from the back. Jeese, was she hot stuff!
I wanted out straight away, but as Ronnie said, that night over a fag and a beer after the show, what else can we do, there is no where else to go. 1 was glad when that season ended I can tell you.
Jeeze its cold in here... ...the fire has never worked right since the gas man was here... .....needs a bob he said... ....I ain’t godda bob....where's thinks I gonnad gedda bob... ...idgiot....still he’s put one in for ... .....I remember the days when it was hot. Oh that time in
Majorca... ...I went there with Ronnie... ...oh we had the best. good hotel....lovely sheets on the bed.....better than now.....when’s that cow of a social worker gonna change the sheets... ...they change a lot in Majorca....and the towels I remember that... those towels...I could do with some of them now.....they were white...different to these rags. just look at them... ...I wasn't I too well in Majorca. that damn Spanish food.....jeeze that fish and bits dish....pie ella....they can keep that stinking stuff... ........gave me the shits I can tell you. Ronnie was nice though....did a lot for me but had to go out a lot. but he was kind...only in the evening, said there was some friends he couldn’t let down....he was good though.....he been telling them that three in bed yarn....load of old crap...when we got back no loving.....said he was tired....godda dose I shouldn 1 wonder. what a bastard
Went round the South coast. He was very popular, could been on tele his manager said if it wasn’t for his drinking. There’s plenty of lushes on tele, so I think his manager was just having him on. Oh he tried, you know, that Opportunity Knocks, he sang an old number, can’t remember what it was, but he was beat by some kid call Shapiro, I ask you what a name, anyway he hadn’t the heart to go back and try again.
Then he got me pregnant; bun in the oven as we used to say. We were in digs. Landladies not very keen on pregnant girls so we had to move into a grotty flat. He said he had to find work for the winter season and he’d heard of some in Majorca, you know the friends he met there, so the bastard disappeared and lefl me holding the baby so to speak.
Damn babies... ...in one end .....out the other...jeeze the shit.....lovely boy.....but later pain in the ass. What was I do to.....dumped the little brat in the end...ended up in Brighten. first one of those clubs... ...clip joints...a dive.....Harry looked after me...bloody spiv really.....lap dancing theyer called now....ha....fanny dancing more like....they wouldn’t like the state of mine today... ...he..he...he. but I don’t wear knickers now...I know...Amy bought some.....from the charity I shouldn’t wonder... but hell I piss in them its not worth the bother....dam that gas fire it should light.....then I can have a cuppa tea.
Harry bought me some lovely underwear, silk you know. I recon he got more fun out of them than I did, damned uncomfortable all that fancy stuff, give me Marks and Sparks any day. I was dressed like a bloody moll, blond hair, well peroxide blond, red lips, Revlons worst, Kissing Fire I think they called it, they’d have called it something else if they’d seen what I kissed. Damned ponce he was, I thought he was a tough guy
till an East End gang came down. Came into the club one day and told him to take out insurance against fire, he laughed and told them he had plenty of insurance, then they burnt his tits with a fag end. That finished him, he was gone the next day, and they told me I had the club for fifty percent of the takings. Did I have a choice I asked, they just laughed and waved a fag under my nose. Jeeze what pricks, seen too many gangster films, right you bastards I’ll show you.
(She’s getting near the end and starts to talk to an imaginary being, maybe the Angel of death)
Damn its getting dark... ...switch on the light there’s a dear.....hell...I know....have you got a bob for the meter. that’s good of you.... do you mind if I get into that bed... ...you sit down. you godda minute?... ....ah those days in Brighten....I was a regular queen....no...I don’t mean.....I was Qeeny...Queen of the strip.
Jeeze it was good life.....those East enders were crafty bastards. had to buy their booze and fags...they’d nicked you know. then they took fifty percent back....but I beat the bastards.....watered the Whiskey and the Gin. one o their lads caught on and beat the shit out of me... ....see that nose never been straight since .Jeese when am I gonna get a cuppa tea...and I’m dying for a fag.
The Blue Angel club run by Queenie Centers, that’s me, was the hottest place in Brighten. In times of austenty I could supply anything. What women will do, and men pay, for luxuries, unbelievable. Take silk stockings, got them from the Yanks, rare as gold, everybody wanted them, set up a regular shipment.
Now nobody wants them now, most youngsters never heard of them. That’s when Bert entered my life, short for Bertriado, American Italian. Mafia. Ha, saved my life. My nose beater ended up with his nose cut off. That was the first warning to the East End gang. I had some muscle then.
They refused insurance! Boom, blown to pieces, no more trouble there. Mafia, smooth as silk, deadly as a snake. I played safe and married Bertriado, then I was one of the family. I conveniently did not mention Ronnie, I think Bert would just have laughed, I was just his moll!
Mafia, bah.....load o wankers can’t look in a mirror with out getting a hard on..........you know what I’m talking about... ....wadda you want anyway... ....you come to collect... ...I know all about collecting. you shoulda seen.....I just feel a little tired.....I think I’ll close my eyes... ....don’t you nick anything... ...why you dressed in black?
Things just grew from then on. Then the Government allowed gambling. It was like Christmas everyday, the money rolled in. Clubs, booze, fags, women, Gambling. Didn’t know what to do with the money. Then real Mafia arrived. You don’t know what that is? You don‘t wanna know, Its all families within families and like families they fall out. Did I say snakes. They have eyes like snakes, and claws like tigers. I can tell, I still feel the marks down my back.
And where was I in all this...dumped like a sack of shit. One week top Queen, next week under the pier doing tricks for thirty bob. I was getting passed it then and just when I thought things could not get worse, guess what, Ronnie turned up. I was sitting in the Wimpy bar at the pier entrance having a cup of tea when I saw him, he was with a boy of about fifteen. I thought, hello, what’s he up to now, gotta a rent boy, when something about the boy made me stop short. Could it be my son.
Is it getting darker... ...piss poor these energy saving bulbs. talk about Toc H... ...what was I saying...oh I don’t know just feeling weary....had a tough life.....well in the end... ....where’s Ronnie he’ll look after me.....always did.
Ronnie was older, and stouter, but he looked well, indeed, prosperous, hell I better shape up can’t let him see me like this, I thought, but who’s the boy? God, it looks a lot like him! In all those years in Brighton, running the Clubs, hosting the parties for the bosses, keeping the girls in line, and running drugs I had never thougut about having a son.
All that time never heard a word, or, really thought about Ronnie, and there he was, bold as brass. Then he saw me! ’You look like shit,’ he said. How’s that for a bastard, my husband, not seen me in twenty years, and that’s all he got to say...bloody creep. Well I thought, welcome back my hearty, see how long you last here, things have changed. What a fool, I didn’t realise how!
God I feel awful... ...those tablets are bloody useless.....there was a time I had the real McCoy... ...best Brazilian...smooth as silk, sweet as wine.....put you on cloud nine for a week.....shouldn I tell you these things.....why you all black...its black enough in here. can’t you cheer things up...yer know I was thinking about the old times.....jeeze )I had everything on a plate...threw it away.. But that bastard Ronnie did me...there’s a lesson for you...can’t escape the past. I like the Mafia jonnies the best...bit greasy.... but you knew where you were. mostly
underneath in my case...give us a drink....is it getting colder or is just me.
I pulled myself together. Went to my old friend Annie to square myself up. Looked quite good, I thought, hair blondish - too much of the peroxide does for your hair, nice makeup with the old fire lipstick, nice silk stocking - and knickers, black shoes and blue dress - quite the lady! Off down the old club, you know the one I used to run. Got there quite late, had a few in the White Hart next to the Bridge Hotel first.
A favourite of mine the Bridge - good pickups there, you know commercial types, think they’re sophisticated, chat you up you know, but they are pricks when it comes to it, want a bit of excitement but always got a picture of the wife in the back of their minds. One said he fell in love with me, wanted me to go away with him, God, if only.
Anyway got down the club, and whose sitting there in his astrakhan, none other than Ronnie. He was talking to THE BOSS....hello I thought, what’s all this, they seemed as thick as thieves. As I got to the bottom step I kinda tripped, and stumbled along the bar. Snake eyes looked at me as if to kill, ’Whose the tart,’ he asked of nobody in general.
Ronnie, who had his back to me, turned, and a pair of cold eyes appraised me, not a flicker of recognition. He shot his cuffs, and slicked back his now jet black hair in true Hollywood gangster fashion and called out to the bouncer, ’Joe, get this piece of shit oudder here.’ Jeeze, he even talked like a Yank!
I shoulda known better, you piece of shit, I shouted, and yer know.....he hit me... ...hit me... ....who the hell...that’s the second time I godda broken nose.,..and hell here I am...shot to pieces...not long I know...... You bin patient....but I had to say my piece before I go. you understand that... ...hell....Its ONLY ONE LIFE... ...and Ronnie. he turned out to a better actor than I thought!