Bettine Manktelow

EXCERPT FROM

“GIRL IN A WHEELCHAIR”

COUNTRY COTTAGE. ARMCHAIR DOWN RIGHT. TABLE AT BACK CENTRE WITH TELEPHONE. TABLE BY WINDOW WITH TWO CHAIRS. EXIT UP RIGHT BETWEEN FLATS TO THE REST OF THE COTTAGE AND EXIT UP LEFT BETWEEN FLATS TO FRONT DOOR. WINDOW BELOW THIS ON CENTRE WALL LEFT.

MEGAN IS SITTING AT TABLE BY WINDOW LEFT READING THE PAPER,

A CUP BY HER SIDE. MEGAN IS A PLEASANT, MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN, UNDER SOME STRESS AT THE MOMENT. SHE GLANCES UP THROUGH THE WINDOW AS SHE SEES SOMEONE APPROACH.

MEGAN: Oh, bother!

THE DOOR BELL RINGS. MEGAN GETS UP WITH A SIGH AND GOES OUT TO LEFT TO OPEN THE DOOR. VOICES OFF:

MEGAN: Oh, it’s you, dear. Do come in.

LOUISE: I hope I’m not in the way.

MEGAN: Not at all!

THEY BOTH ENTER.

LOUISE IS MIDDLE-AGED, NERVOUS AND INGRATIATING. SHE IS CARRYING A PLATE WITH SOME CAKES WRAPPED UP UNDER CLING FILM.

LOUISE: I’ve just made some fairy cakes and I thought with your little visitor here you might like some.

MEGAN: How kind! Anything I can tempt her with is very welcome. She just isn’t eating very well.

LOUISE: What a worry for you!

MEGAN: It is. Do sit down, dear.

LOUISE SITS DOWN AWKWARDLY IN ARMCHAIR LEFT BALANCING THE PLATE ON HER KNEE. MEGAN STANDS CENTRE, SHE TRIES TO KEEP HER PATIENCE WITH THE VISITOR BUT OBVIOUSLY FINDS HER IRRITATING.

LOUISE: No change then?

MEGAN: Not at all! (SHE LOOKS OVER HER SHOULDER AND DROPS HER VOICE) She just mopes about not knowing what to do, watching television in her room or playing with her Gameboy.

LOUISE: You’ve found a friend for her then?

MEGAN: What?

LOUISE: A game boy. Where does he come from?

MEGAN: Gameboy is just a game, dear. You sit and play with it in your hand.

LOUISE: Oh, silly me! I’m so out of touch.

MEGAN: Anyway, that’s all she does! Mope, mope, mope! And still refusing to walk.

LOUISE: What a trial for you. What does the doctor say?

MEGAN: Nothing! Except that she’s missing her mother, that’s all! What excuse is that?

LOUISE: It’s psychological.

MEGAN: I daresay it is, but what am I to do about it?

LOUISE SHIFTS THE PLATE AWKWARDLY ONTO HER OTHER KNEE.

MEGAN: Oh, let me take those cakes.

LOUISE: It’s all right.

MEGAN: The problem is, Louise, I am, after all, no relative. I’m only her Godmother. I’m not a blood relative but they’ve put me in loco parentis and I feel the responsibility most strongly.

LOUISE: It is awkward for you. How long do you think there’ll be away?

MEGAN: Originally, it was a month and then it spread to two months and now it’s the summer holidays and it’s all just too much!

LOUISE: She must be bored.

MEGAN: So am I. I agreed to have her while her mother went off on her third honeymoon but that was before I knew the silly girl had fallen off her pony and broken her leg. I felt I couldn’t turn her down just because she was hobbling. At least I thought she’d be hobbling. I didn’t realise she’d be a complete invalid.

LOUISE: Of course you didn’t. It’s such an extra expense as well.

MEGAN: It’s not the money – her mother left some money with me which I’ve hardly touched, but no amount of money could make up for the inconvenience. I think that mother of hers has clean forgotten about her.

LOUISE: This is her third husband, you said?

MEGAN: I think so. I’ve lost count. It could be her fourth. I think she’s lost count herself!

LOUISE: She certainly has a past!

MEGAN: It’s her present I’m worried about. When is she coming to take the girl home? That’s what I’d like to know.

LOUISE: Perhaps she should see a psychiatrist.

MEGAN: I’ve often thought that myself, but you can’t refer people to a psychiatrist just because they get married more than once!

LOUISE: No, I didn’t mean the mother, I meant the daughter – because of her not walking.

MEGAN: That’s just the trouble. She can walk when she wants to. She goes to the bathroom on her own and hobbles about in her own room, but when it comes to going out she leaps back in her wheelchair.

LOUISE: It must be psychosomatic.

MEGAN: It probably is, but you have to wait years on the NHS to see a psychiatrist. I know someone who did.

LOUISE: (INTERESTED) Who was that?

MEGAN: That woman in the church choir – stands at the back, very tall with red hair. You must know her.

LOUISE: Is she a contralto?

MEGAN: I don’t know. I’ve never heard her sing on her own.

LOUISE: It would really surprise me if any of the sopranos had had to see a psychiatrist.

MEGAN: Why?

LOUISE: Well, they seem so level-headed.

MEGAN: (IMPATIENTLY) That has nothing to do with it! Anyway, it really doesn’t matter, does it? I’m just saying that the woman with red hair, who may or may not be a contralto, was referred for something like this – psychosomatic – and she had to wait months for an appointment.

LOUISE: I suppose it has to be something really serious like threatening to kill somebody before they see you urgently?

MEGAN: (IMPATIENTLY) No, I think you actually have to kill somebody, but don’t ask me. How should I know? I only mentioned it as an illustration.

LOUISE: Sorry! It’s my mind. I do like to get the facts straight.

MEGAN: There aren’t any facts in this case, except that I feel I am being put upon.

LOUISE: Yes, you are.

MEGAN: Just because I held the girl at her christening doesn’t make me responsible for her for the rest of her life, does it? I certainly didn’t think I’d have to look after her for months while her mother went gallivanting off on a world cruise!

LOUISE: No news from her, I suppose?

MEGAN: One post card from Bermuda. “Having a lovely time, wish you were here” that sort of thing. I don’t think!

LOUISE: Why do you say that - you don’t think?

MEGAN: I don’t think they wish I was there! (EXASPERATED) No, she didn’t write anything like that. Oh, Louise, you are slow on the uptake today. What is wrong with you?

LOUISE: (FLUSTERED) I don’t know I’m sure. I seem to be going a bit deaf. I get terrible ringing in my ears. (THE PHONE RINGS) Oh dear, it’s suddenly got worse.

MEGAN: That’s the phone! (SHE GOES ACROSS TO ANSWER IT) Hallo? ... Mrs Doubleday? About Lucy’s outing? ...She said what?... I’m so sorry! ... Don’t worry about it! She’ll have to stay in, that’s all! Thank you so much for your help.”

END OF EXCERPT.



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		EXCERPT FROM “GIRL IN A WHEELCHAIR” published by Jasper Publishing COUNTRY COTTAGE. ARMCHAIR DOWN RIGHT. TABLE AT BACK CENTRE WITH TELEPHONE. TABLE BY WINDOW WITH TWO CHAIRS. EXIT UP RIGHT BETWEEN FLATS TO THE REST OF THE COTTAGE AND EXIT UP LEFT BETWEEN FLATS TO FRONT DOOR. WINDOW BELOW THIS ON CENTRE WALL LEFT. MEGAN IS SITTING AT TABLE BY WINDOW LEFT READING THE PAPER, A CUP BY HER SIDE. MEGAN IS A PLEASANT, MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN, UNDER SOME STRESS AT THE MOMENT. SHE GLANCES UP THROUGH THE WINDOW AS SHE SEES SOMEONE APPROACH. MEGAN: Oh, bother! THE DOOR BELL RINGS. MEGAN GETS UP WITH A SIGH AND GOES OUT TO LEFT TO OPEN THE DOOR. VOICES OFF: MEGAN: Oh, it’s you, dear. Do come in. LOUISE: I hope I’m not in the way. MEGAN: Not at all! THEY BOTH ENTER. LOUISE IS MIDDLE-AGED, NERVOUS AND INGRATIATING. SHE IS CARRYING A PLATE WITH SOME CAKES WRAPPED UP UNDER CLING FILM. LOUISE: I’ve just made some fairy cakes and I thought with your little visitor here you might like some. MEGAN: How kind! Anything I can tempt her with is very welcome. She just isn’t eating very well. LOUISE: What a worry for you! MEGAN: It is. Do sit down, dear. LOUISE SITS DOWN AWKWARDLY IN ARMCHAIR LEFT BALANCING THE PLATE ON HER KNEE. MEGAN STANDS CENTRE, SHE TRIES TO KEEP HER PATIENCE WITH THE VISITOR BUT OBVIOUSLY FINDS HER IRRITATING. LOUISE: No change then? MEGAN: Not at all! (SHE LOOKS OVER HER SHOULDER AND DROPS HER VOICE) She just mopes about not knowing what to do, watching television in her room or playing with her Gameboy. LOUISE: You’ve found a friend for her then? MEGAN: What? LOUISE: A game boy. Where does he come from? MEGAN: Gameboy is just a game, dear. You sit and play with it in your hand. LOUISE: Oh, silly me! I’m so out of touch. MEGAN: Anyway, that’s all she does! Mope, mope, mope! And still refusing to walk. LOUISE: What a trial for you. What does the doctor say? MEGAN: Nothing! Except that she’s missing her mother, that’s all! What excuse is that? LOUISE: It’s psychological. MEGAN: I daresay it is, but what am I to do about it? LOUISE SHIFTS THE PLATE AWKWARDLY ONTO HER OTHER KNEE. MEGAN: Oh, let me take those cakes. LOUISE: It’s all right. MEGAN: The problem is, Louise, I am, after all, no relative. I’m only her Godmother. I’m not a blood relative but they’ve put me in loco parentis and I feel the responsibility most strongly. LOUISE: It is awkward for you. How long do you think there’ll be away? MEGAN: Originally, it was a month and then it spread to two months and now it’s the summer holidays and it’s all just too much! LOUISE: She must be bored. MEGAN: So am I. I agreed to have her while her mother went off on her third honeymoon but that was before I knew the silly girl had fallen off her pony and broken her leg. I felt I couldn’t turn her down just because she was hobbling. At least I thought she’d be hobbling. I didn’t realise she’d be a complete invalid. LOUISE: Of course you didn’t. It’s such an extra expense as well. MEGAN: It’s not the money – her mother left some money with me which I’ve hardly touched, but no amount of money could make up for the inconvenience. I think that mother of hers has clean forgotten about her. LOUISE: This is her third husband, you said? MEGAN: I think so. I’ve lost count. It could be her fourth. I think she’s lost count herself! LOUISE: She certainly has a past! MEGAN: It’s her present I’m worried about. When is she coming to take the girl home? That’s what I’d like to know. LOUISE: Perhaps she should see a psychiatrist. MEGAN: I’ve often thought that myself, but you can’t refer people to a psychiatrist just because they get married more than once! LOUISE: No, I didn’t mean the mother, I meant the daughter – because of her not walking. MEGAN: That’s just the trouble. She can walk when she wants to. She goes to the bathroom on her own and hobbles about in her own room, but when it comes to going out she leaps back in her wheelchair. LOUISE: It must be psychosomatic. MEGAN: It probably is, but you have to wait years on the NHS to see a psychiatrist. I know someone who did. LOUISE: (INTERESTED) Who was that? MEGAN: That woman in the church choir – stands at the back, very tall with red hair. You must know her. LOUISE: Is she a contralto? MEGAN: I don’t know. I’ve never heard her sing on her own. LOUISE: It would really surprise me if any of the sopranos had had to see a psychiatrist. MEGAN: Why? LOUISE: Well, they seem so level-headed. MEGAN: (IMPATIENTLY) That has nothing to do with it! Anyway, it really doesn’t matter, does it? I’m just saying that the woman with red hair, who may or may not be a contralto, was referred for something like this – psychosomatic – and she had to wait months for an appointment. LOUISE: I suppose it has to be something really serious like threatening to kill somebody before they see you urgently? MEGAN: (IMPATIENTLY) No, I think you actually have to kill somebody, but don’t ask me. How should I know? I only mentioned it as an illustration. LOUISE: Sorry! It’s my mind. I do like to get the facts straight. MEGAN: There aren’t any facts in this case, except that I feel I am being put upon. LOUISE: Yes, you are. MEGAN: Just because I held the girl at her christening doesn’t make me responsible for her for the rest of her life, does it? I certainly didn’t think I’d have to look after her for months while her mother went gallivanting off on a world cruise! LOUISE: No news from her, I suppose? MEGAN: One post card from Bermuda. “Having a lovely time, wish you were here” that sort of thing. I don’t think! LOUISE: Why do you say that - you don’t think? MEGAN: I don’t think they wish I was there! (EXASPERATED) No, she didn’t write anything like that. Oh, Louise, you are slow on the uptake today. What is wrong with you? LOUISE: (FLUSTERED) I don’t know I’m sure. I seem to be going a bit deaf. I get terrible ringing in my ears. (THE PHONE RINGS) Oh dear, it’s suddenly got worse. MEGAN: That’s the phone! (SHE GOES ACROSS TO ANSWER IT) Hallo? ... Mrs Doubleday? About Lucy’s outing? ...She said what?... I’m so sorry! ... Don’t worry about it! She’ll have to stay in, that’s all! Thank you so much for your help.” END OF EXCERPT. © Bettine Manktelow