German Skerries Read online

  He walks and puts the arc light inside the hut. He looks at the oilskin.

  What ’ave I t’do with this?

  CAROL. Better put it inside ’adn’ t we?

  JACK puts the oilskin inside the hut. He closes the door. He picks up a pebble, throws it into the air, and lets it fall to the ground.

  Dawn has come up a little more.

  His wife was there last night.

  JACK. Come’n stand where I am.

  CAROL goes and stands beside him. They are looking inland.

  Look a’that. A mass of industry. I’ve never seen it this time o’the mornin’ before.

  A slight pause.

  Don’t yer get the feelin’ yer right in the middle of somethin’?

  A slight pause.

  (Pointing from left to right.) The lights o’Redcar. British Steel. ICI Wilton. Middlesbrough. The docks. Warners Chimney. Teesport refinery. The Transporter. ICI Billingham. Haverton Hill. Hartlepool. Stretches f’ thirty miles. In the middle of it, we’re ’ere. On a jut a’land. Fantastic. (Shouting very loudly.) HELLO, HELLO, HELLO.

  (After a moment’s pause.) Nobody can ’ear us.

  The lights fade.

  Scene Three

  Lights snapped up.

  Monday, August 8th, eleven o’clock in the morning. The day is overcast but warm.

  From the steelworks, the faint sounds of a small crowd demonstrating.

  CAROL is standing on the grass, she is looking in the direction of the steelworks. She has a copy of Travels with My Aunt in her hand and is wearing a cardigan over her dress.

  MARTIN enters, he looks very brown after his holiday and he is wearing the same suit. He strides towards the door.

  CAROL looks at him for a moment. MARTIN takes a key from his pocket. He crosses his fingers.

  MARTIN (to himself). New key.

  The door opens easily, the arc light and oilskin have gone but the bike is still there.

  CAROL sits down on the grass and opens her book.

  The sound of the crowd fades to silence.

  MARTIN wheels his bike from the shed, closes the door, and leans his bike against it.

  CAROL closes her book and puts it beside her on the grass. For a brief moment the faint sound of the crowd.

  You look lost, my dear, is there anything I can do?

  CAROL. No, I’m waitin’ for my husband.

  MARTIN. Whereabouts is he?

  CAROL. Somewhere.

  MARTIN. Is it as bad as all that?

  CAROL (standing up). I expect ’e’ll come carryin’ ’is tail be’ind ’im with a list of excuses.

  She walks over to MARTIN.

  MARTIN. Never mind. My tyres are flat. Is he a birdwatcher?

  CAROL. Yes.

  MARTIN. I thought so, I could tell by the moan.

  CAROL. I think you know ’im.

  MARTIN. Do I?

  CAROL. You’ve jus’ been on holiday.

  MARTIN (smiling). Yes.

  CAROL (smiling). I know all about you you see.

  MARTIN (smiling). I think you know more about me than I do myself.

  CAROL. His name’s Jack.

  MARTIN. Yes, yes, I remember.

  CAROL. We found your note.

  MARTIN. I thought it would blow away, the weather was looking so bad.

  CAROL. I’m Carol.

  MARTIN. Hello, Carol.

  CAROL. ’Ello.

  For a brief moment the faint sound of the crowd.

  MARTIN takes the pump off the bike.

  You got back yesterday?

  MARTIN. Last night at ten o’clock. (Taking the connecting pipe from inside the pump.) It was a quite a tiring journey.

  He kneels down to the bike.

  CAROL. Are you from round this area then?

  MARTIN. I live in Redcar, but was brought up in Middlesbrough. (Trying to screw the connecting pipe to the front wheel.) In his spare time my father was projectionist at the Grand Electric and eventually they gave us a house across the road. It’s been knocked down now.

  CAROL. That must be nice.

  MARTIN is fiddling with the wheel.

  A slight pause.

  I’m a clerk in the tax office in Middlesbrough.

  MARTIN. I know who to come to.

  CAROL. Everybody sez that. Your tax will be handled somewhere else.

  MARTIN. Something must be wrong with the thread.

  He tries to screw the connecting pipe again.

  Well I don’t know.

  CAROL. Have you tried blowing on it? Jack blows on everything.

  MARTIN blows into the thread of the connecting pipe. He tries again.

  MARTIN. No. I think I’ll have to screw it on regardless.

  CAROL. Try the back one first, it sometimes ’elps if you leave it.

  MARTIN. That’s a good idea – show it we’re not defeated.

  CAROL stands up. MARTIN moves across to the back wheel.

  CAROL. What does your wife do?

  MARTIN. She’s a librarian.

  He screws the connecting pipe to the back wheel without difficulty.

  CAROL. Sounds like a sign of the zodiac when you say it like that.

  MARTIN smiles, he stands up, he has the pump in his hand.

  MARTIN. D’you believe in all that?

  CAROL. I read my horoscope sometimes.

  MARTIN (screwing the pump to the connecting pipe). My daughter-in-law goes to a palmist.

  CAROL. I’ve never done that.

  MARTIN. You’re very wise. She pays him a fortune and he tells her she’ll live a long and happy life. It’s a lot to pay for reassurance.

  CAROL. When a was younger I bought a book about tea leaves.

  MARTIN starts to pump up the tyre.

  MARTIN. The world of the tea bag has put a stop to all that.

  CAROL smiles. MARTIN stops pumping for a moment.

  I shouldn’t make fun, should I?

  CAROL. I don’t care.

  MARTIN starts to pump again.

  MARTIN. I thought maybe you were very keen?

  CAROL. No.

  A slight pause.

  MARTIN feels the tyre.

  MARTIN. It’s going up very slowly.

  CAROL. Let us ’ave a go. Go on.

  CAROL starts to pump. MARTIN stands beside her. CAROL pumps faster than MARTIN.

  A pause.

  MARTIN watches her for a moment and then looks out to sea. He waves at someone on a boat.

  A slight pause.

  MARTIN waves again.

  MARTIN. He can’t see me.

  MARTIN waves again.

  The shrill, loud ‘bleep’ of an oystercatcher.

  MARTIN puts his hands to his eyes and looks.

  There’s an oystercatcher somewhere.

  CAROL. That might do.

  She stops pumping and feels the tyre.

  I’ll give it six more –

  She starts to pump.

  – five, six.

  She feels the tyre.

  Is that enough?

  MARTIN feels the tyre.

  MARTIN. That’s perfect, thank you very much.

  CAROL (she looks hot). I’ll let you unscrew it.

  MARTIN takes the pump, he starts to unscrew it.

  MARTIN. What did your horoscope say for today?

  CAROL. Which one? I saw the Daily Express at me mam’s an’ we take the Mail. Both said somethin’ completely different. They’re never bad though, a’they?

  MARTIN (standing up, the pump in his hand). No.

  The shrill, loud ‘bleep’ of an oystercatcher.

  There it is again. It’s somewhere.

  He takes two Glacier Fruits from his jacket pocket.

  Would you like one of these?

  CAROL. Ta.

  CAROL takes one. They take off the wrappers.

  MARTIN. Give me your paper – (Putting them in his pocket.) I’ll put them in my pocket.

  He takes off his jacket.

  (Hanging his jack
et on the nail.) We had a lovely time in South Devon. It’s a beautiful part of the country.

  CAROL. Is it?

  MARTIN. Everything is so much greener, I don’t know why.

  He bends down to the front tyre.

  I wonder whether I ought to leave this and walk back.

  CAROL. It’s a long walk t’Redcar.

  For a moment the faint sound of the demonstration.

  MARTIN. Listen to them. At the steel plant. (Standing up.) I think there are more troublemakers than there are actual demonstrators.

  Both are looking towards the steel plant.

  Can you hear them?

  CAROL. Yeah.

  MARTIN. I didn’t know what was happening until I walked past just now. Most of them are fifteen-year-olds looking for anything that might happen. They’re shouting at each wagon as it goes in. I watched them for a while. Half of them I used to teach.

  The sound of the crowd again.

  A slight pause.

  They’ve not got the willpower to think of anything better to do.

  The crowd fades.

  CAROL. I was wonderin’ if Jack might’ve gone there.

  MARTIN. I wasn’t meaning the likes of him, I was meaning the youngsters. It’s easy to criticise, I know.

  CAROL. There’s three of ’em really. They’ve been there all week.

  The sound of the flute, as before.

  MARTIN changes position, he looks along the shore, his hands are in front of his eyes, shielding the light.

  MARTIN. There’s a cormorant. On the shore.

  CAROL looks.

  CAROL. The bad weather’s bringin’ in all the birds.

  A slight pause.

  MARTIN. It’s found a dead fish look.

  A slight pause.

  CAROL. So it ’as.

  A slight pause.

  MARTIN (to himself as much as CAROL). What will happen? If they don’t move the pipe?

  A slight pause.

  CAROL. Did it jus’ swallow that whole?

  MARTIN. Yes.

  CAROL. That’s the way to eat, isn’t it.

  MARTIN. They’ve a digestive system that’s far better than ours.

  CAROL. It needs t’be.

  The sound of the flute, slightly quicker and faster than before.

  MARTIN (pointing). There it goes.

  CAROL. It can still fly an’ all.

  They follow it. MARTIN still has his hands in front of his eyes. They follow it to the German Skerries.

  Silence.

  MARTIN waves his hands above his head.

  MARTIN. There’s Michael. I think it’s him in his boat.

  CAROL looks at him for a brief moment. MARTIN waves again.

  Whoever it is, he’s waving back.

  He lowers his hand.

  I’m sorry, my dear. Michael was at school with my eldest son. I see him occasionally.

  CAROL walks and picks up her book off the grass, she walks back.

  CAROL. ’Adn’t you better get doin’ your tyres?

  MARTIN. I suppose I had.

  CAROL (bending down to the front wheel). I’ll do it.

  MARTIN. I can manage.

  CAROL (putting the book on the grass beside her). It’s alright – it’s sommat t’do while I’m waitin’.

  She picks up the pump.

  What else did yer dad do? Yer said ’e did that cinema work part time?

  MARTIN. He was a bookseller with a little shop on Newport Road. Naturally when people couldn’t afford food, they couldn’t afford books. He made a little money from the wealthier folk but not enough to keep us all going. In the evening he took part-time work so as to be able to open his shop during the day.

  CAROL is fiddling with the pump and tyre.

  Books were his passion. That’s what he wanted. We admired him for it.

  CAROL. Yeah?

  MARTIN. I don’t think you’re having much success?

  CAROL. I’m not – it’s ’opeless. We need John.

  MARTIN (bending down). John?

  CAROL (still fiddling). Jack – because ’e was small at school ’e used t’get bullied, ’e took to callin’ himself Jack.

  MARTIN. Leave it, my dear, I’ll quite happily walk.

  CAROL. I’m not beaten. (Dropping the pump.) It’s ’opeless.

  MARTIN. Let me have one last try.

  CAROL moves out of the way. MARTIN tries.

  No.

  He continues to fiddle.

  CAROL is still kneeling.

  CAROL. That’s what a keep tellin’ John ’e should do. He should do what he wants.

  MARTIN. Pardon, my dear?

  CAROL. Like your father.

  MARTIN. It’s the best way.

  CAROL. That’s what I tell ’im. ’E goes an’ gets the cotton wool from the bathroom when a go on a lot and puts some in ’is ears.

  MARTIN (after a moment’s pause). The other side of the argument, you know, is that these things don’t matter.

  CAROL. What?

  MARTIN. Nothing matters. Nothing is important.

  CAROL. Why?

  MARTIN. Because in the end it isn’t. I’ll let you into a secret, my dear, I realised something on holiday. It was that.

  He is still fiddling.

  (Smiling.) I also realised something else – I’m getting old.

  CAROL (smiling). Yer not.

  MARTIN (smiling. Fiddling). Don’t say I’m not when I say I am.

  CAROL. How’re you old?

  MARTIN. I’m fifty-nine.

  CAROL. That’s not old. Me dad’s nearly that.

  MARTIN. How old’s your dad?

  CAROL. ’Bout fifty-four.

  MARTIN. There’s a lot of difference.

  CAROL. Five years.

  MARTIN (smiling). I can’t argue with you, I can see.

  CAROL. Yer can’t when yer say that.

  MARTIN (still fiddling). I’ve given up.

  CAROL. Good.

  MARTIN (after a moment’s pause). Nothing is ever again going to get me down – that’s old age.

  CAROL smiles.

  CAROL. I think that’s great.

  MARTIN (pleased). Do you?

  CAROL. Yeah. It’s wonderful.

  MARTIN. I’m pleased. Life is too short. And I’ve lived most of mine.

  He stands up.

  I’m going to leave that as well and walk. It’s been more trouble than it’s worth.

  CAROL stands up.

  CAROL. What would yer do with John then? I’ve tried an’ tried. You’ve met ’im? I can’t ask my mam and dad, they don’t understand. I know f’ some o’the time ’e isn’t ’appy.

  MARTIN puts the connecting pipe inside the pump.

  MARTIN. With what, my dear?

  CAROL. I know it’s not me, but –

  A slight pause.

  Sometimes I mekk mesel believe it is. That’s something I can do somethin’ about. Did ’e tell you ’e’d applied for a course? The letter came this mornin’. I ’aven’t dared open it. I’ll scream if it sez no.

  MARTIN puts the pump on his bike.

  He suffers a bit because of ’is school reports.

  MARTIN turns to her.

  MARTIN. Another thing I’ve learnt, my dear, is never to give advice. I think you’d be likely to take it and I don’t want that. He’s very nice your young man, hold on to him, so few people in this world are.

  CAROL. Like me dad. John’s right.

  From the steel plant the sound of the crowd. MARTIN and CAROL look toward it.

  MARTIN. I wonder what’s going on down there? It sounds like trouble. The world isn’t a rational place. Things aren’t changed by rational people. (After a moment’s pause.) I don’t want to know.

  A slight pause.

  It’ll be those local yobbos throwing stones. (In despair.) Oh dear. (After a moment’s pause.) I feel a sadness.

  Faintly, the sound of a police siren.

  (To himself.) Why can’t things be left alone.


  CAROL. The police’re there. I ’ope John isn’t.

  MARTIN (to CAROL). Why can’t things be left alone?

  CAROL. I don’t know.

  They watch.

  The crowd can still be heard.

  MARTIN. Perhaps if I could only see one side of an argument I might be down there myself.

  CAROL. It’s the yobbos who are breaking it up.

  A slight pause.

  MARTIN. Unfortunately I know the reason for that monstrosity. Teesside needs the jobs.

  The sound of the crowd fades.

  CAROL. They’ll take ’em away.

  The police siren stops. Silence.

  MARTIN undoes his saddlebag and takes out his cycle clips. He slowly and carefully puts them on.

  MARTIN (realising). What am I doing, I don’t need these.

  He takes them off and puts them back in the saddlebag. He looks towards the German Skerries.

  (Pointing.) There’s the cormorant on the German Skerries look.

  CAROL (looking). Yes.

  MARTIN waves.

  MARTIN (calling). Michael. I don’t think it is him. Never mind.

  He smiles.

  Give me a kiss, you’re a very beautiful young lady.

  CAROL smiles. MARTIN kisses her on the cheek.

  (Taking hold of his handlebars.) The cormorant’ll never nest there again.

  He turns his bike round.

  JACK enters. He is carrying his shoes and socks in his left hand, his jeans are rolled up to his knees and his feet and ankles are covered in black oily mud. He is wearing a blue T-shirt. In his left hand he has his telescope and his Hamlyn Bird Guide. His binoculars are hanging round his neck.

  CAROL. D’you know what you look like?

  JACK. Yeah, the bionic man.

  He moves in slow motion.

  CAROL (to MARTIN). Men think they rule this world. If it wasn’t for women ’e’d stay like that all day long. D’you know what time it is?

  JACK looks at his watch.

  JACK. Five t’twelve, it’s workin’.

  MARTIN. Is it? I must be off – Ann is preparing my dinner – woe betide if I’m late.

  He wheels the bike forward.

  JACK. Are you comin’ back this af’ernoon?

  MARTIN. I might be.

  JACK. I’ll see yer then then.

  CAROL. No, you won’t.

  MARTIN has stopped.