Posted: 06 January 2004
Word Count: 10536
Summary: This play was produced at the Edinburgh Festival in 1999 and later that year at the Finborough Arm as part of the London New Play Festival. It's a two hander.
LOUD REPETITIVE HOUSE MUSIC. A SEEDY SMOKY BAR IS REVEALED.
A SLENDER MAN IN HIS EARLY FORTIES , JACKY STANDS BY THE BAR, HE MOVES HIS BODY SLIGHTLY TO THE BEAT AS HIS EYES DART FURTIVELY AROUND THE ROOM IN SEARCH OF PREY. HE SEES SOMEONE AND GIVES THEM A SUBTLE CODED LOOK, HE IS REJECTED AND LEAVES THE BAR DEFIANTLY.
LIGHTS UP IN JACKY'S FLAT. HE ENTERS THE ROOM, HE PICKS UP A CAT'S TOY OFF THE FLOOR AND HOLDS IT CLOSE TO HIM.
You'll pull through. Thinking of you.
HE NOTICES THE ANSAPHONE IS FLASHING, HE TURNS IT ON.
er...this is a message for a Mr Jack Taylor, erm hope we got the right one, records assure us we do, er,could you please telephone Sherrif Chuck Flanagan on Ohio, 822 69911, that's Ohio, the United States..of America. I have information regarding your mother.
JACKY GASPS AND STARES OPEN MOUTHED OUT FRONT. HE REWINDS THE ANSAPHONE AND REPLAYS THE MESSAGE. POSSIBLY STOPPING BEFORE WE HEAR THE ENTIRE MESSAGE. HE SITS DOWN SHOCKED AND SHAKES HIS HEAD, HE THEN GOES TO HIS BOOKCASE AND TAKES DOWN AN OLD BATTERED SCRAP BOOK, HE OPENS IT AND TENDERLY LEAFS THROUGH IT.
It's time to tell the truth.
HE HOLDS UP A CHILDS SIXTIES ROCKET TOY AND CARESSES IT.
Many many years ago, we had a dream, not one of those horrid anxiety ridden nightmares, when you're desperately looking for a lavatory , running from room to room to room to room and yet you can't find one. No...this was a big dream , a great dream, a dream of exploring the universe - outer space if you like.
Was it at all possible? Could we human beings really fly about in a winged vehicle, in some kind of rocket powered aeroplane that could leave Earth's atmosphere, enter space and then return under its own control to land on a conventional runway?
(Shrugs) No one knew. You see, before the Cold War people were quite happy living on Earth. It suited them, after all it's got everything , oxygen, pleasant greenery , waterfalls, Belgian chocolate, everything. But back then, in the shadow of the Atomic bomb , people started getting nervous. They thought, Oh dear, what'll I do if the planet blows up, I'll have nowhere to put my things and things are so terribly important to people. So they decided to look elsewhere for storage space.
Now,they didn't want to take too many risks so they started sending creatures up in to space ,animals in fact , just to see if they could breathe and function and adapt. Firstly they sent up a dog, then a monkey and a mouse so naturally the logical progression was a woman. That's right, they sent up my mum.
HE SITS DOWN AT THE SEWING MACHINE AND BEGINS TO SEW.
Lucy Taylor, nee Padden aged 34. I don't remember a great deal about her .
SPOTLIGHT ON LUCY, SHE IS SEATED APPLYING HER MAKEUP AND STARING RATHER DREAMILY INTO A MIRROR.
LUCY STANDS AND STARES AHEAD.
Met my father Biff Taylor during the war. The second World war. They met at the VE Day celebrations in Trafalgar Square, London.
She was eighteen years old and had never seen a man before. Other than her father and the lads at school. But not a real man, not a man in uniform with a twinkle in his eye and a bulge in his pocket.
Biff swept her into his arms and kissed her face off. This was it she thought, a real live man and he wants to kiss me. Up till then she'd only ever kissed swedes, the vegetables. You couldn't get oranges during rationing to practice on and swedes were readily available and so became the desired facsimile. All the girls had them, just ask around. But men are not the same as root vegetables, they've got whiskers and they dribble. It was all a bit of a shock for my little mum, she almost fainted with passion, personally I'd have slapped him hard and asked for a tenner. One kiss and she was convinced she was pregnant. Which was not the case, nonetheless she ordered Biff to marry her and being more than inebriated he agreed. So, foregoing her dream of a wedding dress made of parachute silk they married at nearby Marylebone registry office and left for America the very next day- so the story goes.
Her parents didn't mind, to be honest I think they were glad to be rid of her. Grandma Padden did not have a lot of patience and you needed patience to deal with Lucy. Oh my yes. Sometimes Lucy would just sit in a chair and stare, stare for hours on end. This drove Grandma Padden round the twist, your eyes will dry up my girl,just you wait, blink, go on blink , blink, blink I say, tut, tut, don't say I didn't warn you.
JACKY LOOKS AT LUCY, SHE STARES STRAIGHT AHEAD, THE LIGHT FADES AND SHE EXITS.
But back to my parents, Lucy and Biff, now she wasn't bad looking in a Joyce Grenfell/June Allyson sort of way and she said she knew her way round an Aga stove.
What more could a man want, when he said, "Well honeypie you don't mind sharing me do you?"
She thought he meant with his all the fleas and rodents and other nasty critters that lived in his house, she didn't know he meant half the female population of Klebertown, Ohio where he kept a ranch style home , complete with veranda and white picket fence.
I'm afraid Daddy was a bit of a lady-killer, not literally, one hopes. No, a lady killer in the traditional sense, a Don Juan if you must. Grandma Padden always said, "That man will go with anything in a skirt" which wasn't strictly true, because lets not forget it, in those days tight slacks and Capri pants were all the rage, so as far as fashion went he didn't really have any particular preference.
Mum and Daddy spent years trying to have a baby, it took ages for Biff to convince Lucy they had to both be in the same room to conceive. I think she'd just read different books to him. Well Biff couldn't really
read, he could just about make out what was going on in comics but that was only because there were so many pictures.
I came along quite a while after they got married nearly thirteen years later. People stopped asking when they were going to start a family and started asking why? In the end they sort of got used to the idea of not being parents, well Mum did, I think dad already had several er, illegitimate kiddies from his other women.. Well eventually she fell pregnant with me, everyone was so surprised especially mum, I've fallen she kept yelling, I've fallen, the Good Lord has blessed me with a child. I'm going to call it Jacky, boy or girl, it makes no odds, Jacky it will be. And here I am.
We all lived together in what passed for happiness even though Mum had her little oddities, idiosyncrasies if you must.. like ironing the curtains while they were still hanging on the curtain rails. She said the ironing board wasn't big enough and you can't argue with that .
Daddy said she was too stupid to breathe oxygen. Not usually a phrase reserved for the woman you profess to love.
There was that time when she'd arrived home from the shops in the pouring rain , arms laden with grocery bags . She shouted through the screen door "Hello, anyone in?" . Hubby, Biff as was his wont, jokingly replied "No". Resulting in Lucy standing outside on the porch for a further half hour until she realised her error.
The front door wasn't even locked and she got an awful surprise when Biff finally came to see what was keeping her. "But you're not home." she gasped.
"Lucy, " he said in his charming cowboy slur, "You sure are stupid."
But anyone could've made that mistake.
LIGHTS UP ON LUCY, SHE IS IMMACULATELY DRESSED IN AN EARLY SIXTIES SUIT, SHE PUTS ON A CAPE STYLE JACKET AND HAT AND GLOVES.
But I said I'd tell you the truth didn't I, and so I will. My mother went on a shopping spree one February day in 1961 and never returned.
LUCY EXITS, LIGHT FADES.
My parents didn't really communicate very much so it was quite a few days before dad noticed she was gone. At first he thought she'd run off with another man, Lord knows who? He knew deep down she wouldn't leave me just like that. although she was very forgetful, once she left me outside Woolworth's and took the bus home. She only realised I wasn't there when she noticed the high chair, empty and my mashed parsnip gone untouched. But no harm was done.
People started gossiping, there were all sorts of rumours and some of them weren't very nice. Someone said she might have committed suicide by jumping over Port Walter bridge but no one ever found a body. Others who weren't so well meaning said she'd been kidnapped, murdered and left in an unmarked grave.
Daddy decided that it didn't matter what had happened or where she was as far as he was concerned out of sight meant out of mind and her name was never ever mentioned in the house again. All I have of her is her diary, I've added to it over the intervening years, I detest an empty page, here it is, the truth all here , my mother's diary, Grandma gave it to me when she went into the home, it's the story of what happened to my Mum.
A charming girl, a wonderful woman and a plucky lady who 'll pluck at your heart strings on hearing how she plucked up courage and plucked off into the unknown.
JACKY READS FROM THE DIARY.
Codename - Petticoat Project Journal
This subject was chosen for her unique abilities and obvious lack of comprehension of the official undertaking, therefore the presence of any undue fear and apprehension has been completely eradicated.
SPOT ON LUCY, SHE IS WEARING A SORT OF SILVER VERSION OF HER EARLIER OUTFIT.
Lucy (a very different affirmation each time she answers .)
Yes? ..yes...oh yes...yes....yes....yes!
SHE SITS DOWN AND TAKES OUT A SIMILAR DIARY. LIGHTS FADE ON JACKY AS HE CONTINUES READING IN HIS HEAD.
(HER MOMENTS ARE SUCH THAT SHE IS DEFYING GRAVITY, VERY STYLISED.)
Dear official Petticoat Project Journal, Phew that's a bit of a mouthful, how about from now on I just call you Dear Book.
It'll be quite hard writing this when I go, my pen well keep floating away so I've decided to cellotape it to my hand which will explain my bad handwriting which is usually pretty good. In fact I once got 3 gold stars for my handwriting when I was at primary school, my composition entitled 'What my Father did in The Great War.' was held up as an example of ........Oh what was it Mr Noyes said?...Ah ..yes, an excellent example of presentation over content. Daddy was so proud, it wasn't his fault he had one glass eye and a gyppy leg and therefore was deemed unsuitable to see action, we all of us have accidents and even my Noyes knew that.
This book will be glued to a desk type thingy so at least that will keep it sort of still. If I had to chase it around the ship I think writing might be very difficult indeed.
Right, now a bit about me.
I'm Lucy Taylor and I'm , oh, I was born in 1927 and now it's 1961, so that makes me..Oh you work it out. I'm so pleased to be going up there, (Points above head) , I just can't wait. I've always wanted to travel and I have, I mean I live in the United States at the moment and I used to live on the other side of the world. Don't get me wrong sometimes I do miss England, I really do. Well, having said that I come from a little place called South Mimms just outside of London and I've never really been anywhere else, apart from here in Klebertown, Ohio so going into outer space as we call it these days will be quite a journey for me. I haven't told my husband Biff, I don't think he'd really like the idea very much.
Well his idea of a wife is a woman who lives with him in his house, cooks his supper, irons his overalls and er.... puts up with his nonsence. I'm sure he wouldn't like a wife who donned a metallic space suit then attempted a Geostationary orbit and who can blame him for that. Besides I'm not just his wife I'm also little Jacky's Mummy. Anyway, the men from the Government told me not to tell anyone, for security reasons. they made me tell Biff a little white lie.
I had to write him a note saying I'd won first prize in a radio competition. That's right, I said, the man on the radio was asking for a new advertising slogan for Golden Peaches so I called them up and said, "Golden Peaches, they're good and you can eat them". Biff must have got a hell of a shock. I mean I've never ever won a prize, I paid a quater for a lucky dip once at the State Fair, but they'd just run out, typical. I told him the prize was a trip to New York city. I promised I'd bring back a souvenir like a Mini Empire State building or a tea towel with something New Yorkie on it like...I don't know...a very tall building or a gun.
I'm not sure how long I'm expected to stay up in Outer space but it can't be for any more than a day or two, I mean there's nothing to do up here well not unless I run into any aliens and if I do, I'll just take some photographs, swap addresses and promise to keep in touch.
LIGHTS FADE ON LUCY, LIGHTS UP ON JACKY.
Well Dad did not mention anything about a radio competition or her going off to New York City, the very thing. Why my little mum? Ideal subject I suspect. Honest, trustworthy, obedient, loyal and most vitally not likely to be missed by her husband. Well story has it she was shopping in the mall, which is American for arcade only on a much bigger scale of course. A mall's got everything, restaurants, toilets, chemists, even dog grooming salons whereas arcades have usually got a While you wait key cutting service and a Sock shop. Anyway, it was spring 1961 and she was scouring the shops for McVitities digestive biscuits. Of course you can't get them in the States and she knew that deep down. But it didn't stop her trying. It was a craving you see, a craving that simply had to be satisfied.
On special occasions , birthdays and Christmas her mother, Grandma Padden, my Nan would send a couple wrapped up in waxed paper, she'd never send a whole packet though, miserable old witch. I think she was deliberately trying to make poor Mum homesick by tempting her with tiny tasty titbits.
Word has it on this particular morning whilst patrolling the mall Mum was approached by two men in uniform. She was alone, I believe I was entertaining the little boy next door in my playpen , unchaperoned.
The two men in question were officers of the United States Army. Now I know it sounds highly irregular but apparently they told her all about their secret mission then asked if she'd be interested in becoming a part of history. Well naturally she jumped at the chance, wouldn't you? She threw her vertigo and fear of flying to the wind and seized the opportunity to see the world, all of it, from just one window.
LIGHTS UP ON LUCY. LIGHTS FADE ON JACKY.
Lucy (Crosses her heart)
I promise to co-operate with my country in continuing a secure state of existence , whilst at the same time reinforcing the superiority of the United States in the greatest space race of history and show those Commie bastards that they can't beat us.
THE LIGHTS COME UP ON A CUSTOMISED ROTATING CHAIR. LUCY IS CAREFULLY STRAPPED IN BY JACKY WHO REVOLVES HER VERY SLOWLY ROUND ,AS IF IN ORBIT IN OUTER SPACE, SPINNING HER FASTER AND FASTER AS HE CROSSES BACK TO HIS PLACE.
I was put through my paces for several days before departure. It was very exciting. I had to sit in an arm chair suspended up side down for 24 hours. That was interesting. Everything took on a whole different dimension. If that's the right word. Professor Cravitts, the man, well scientist I think he was, in charge had a pet cat called Sputnik. Funny name, I don't where he got that from, anyway he kept a bowl of milk in the corner and whenever Sputnik would drink it , I'd think to myself, what a funny old world this is, there's a cat standing upside down on the roof having it's tea. I felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland, well exactly like Alice in Wonderland. A very nice man called Greg told me a bit about the technical side of things, well tried to. But I sai, honestly Greg, it's very kind of you but you may as well be speaking Japanese for all the sence your'e making. He made me some coffee and smiled. But it was a sad smile, I noticed that. Then he went away and I never saw him again.
Professor Cravitts gave me a pair of inflated overalls to wear and a big motor bike helmet to go over my hair, to protect it I suppose. Actually it ruined my set and no amount of Gossamer could get it back into shape.
Then he lowered me into a giant tub of warm water. I don't know why, but the Professor seemed very pleased afterwards. The suit I'm actually wearing is much nicer. I explained that whenever I went on a long trip from home, like into town or to church that I'd normally wear a dress or two piece ensemble rather than overalls. In fact I insisted so I'm very pleased with the result. An up to the minute pencil skirt and box jacket very Chi chi although I still have to wear the motor cycle helmet whenever I leave the space ship but I am allowed to wear this darling little pill box hat in doors. Very First Lady I think.
I must admit I'm starting to feel a bit lonely. It's strange looking down and seeing the Earth all that way away. At first it looked like the model globe my cousin Geoffrey had on his bedside table, he used to flick it with his finger and send it spinning so fast that all the countries and the oceans would blend into one big blurry blue mess and make me feel quite queasy. "Stop it Geoff," I used to say..."You'll have me bringing up my supper in a minute." He'd just laugh, then put his hand back under the bed clothes, make a silly groaning noise and pretend to be asleep, boys are so funny I think. Yes, that's what the Earth reminds me of, except the real Earth doesn't have a table under it, it's just there, floating, like a marble in space. Funny when you think of it. All those people down there, all fighting and squabbling and eating their tea all at the same time. Mmm, makes you think. Makes me think and there's a first. Makes me wonder if they know I'm all the way up here.
LIGHTS FADE ON LUCY. JACKY GOES BACK TO HIS SIDE OF THE STAGE. LIGHTS UP ON JACKY. HE BEGINS TO SEW.
No Mum, they didn't. I didn't. I always thought you were enjoying life in Acapulco with your young Latin lover, sipping cocktails on a moon lit beach and telling anyone who'd listen, you were born to cha, cha.
But then I've a very vivid imagination. The only people who knew were the ones who sent you there. Professor Cravitts and his merry band.
Old Cravitts died in 1969. In a car accident. That old story. Rumour has it he'd been celebrating the Lunar landing with his young and rather pretty Lab assistant, Monquie. After several rum punches and few too many monkey nuts he attempted to drive himself and his colleague home.
Whoops big mistake, dead as a door nail and what with the Chappaquadick incident so fresh in the nations mind. tut, tut the White House wasn't best pleased but what's a conspiracy theory amongst friends? Very convenient I would say. The two original agents who'd approached my mother also turned up mysteriously D.O.A. Cousin Geoff is quite an old man now, he emigrated to Australia, married and spawned six sons, all of whom I assume had access to a globe of their own, yes boys certainly are funny or so I've been led to believe.
LIGHTS UP ON LUCY.
I think I've been here about a week but to be honest I've lost track of time. I had a radio message from Professor Cravitts the other day, he sounded very well and asked after me. A man called Special Agent Farrow had a word too. Funny name that, longwinded. But I haven't heard anything for a while now. I wonder how little Jacky's keeping. I do miss him. I hope his Daddy remembers to feed him. It's not that he's
forgetful or anything but sometimes things that he doesn't feel to be important just don't get done. Like the time he promised he'd spend some time with me while we were on our honeymoon but then his best friend Wilbur Shute suggested a fishing trip and off he went. I t wouldn't have been so bad if he'd at least brought back some trout or something for our supper but after five whole days of fishing neither of them caught a single bite. I guess fresh water fish are smarter than we give them credit for.
My Jacky's just four and a dear little boy, Oh but listen to me wittering on about life on Earth and that's not why I'm here is it. No Sirree, Professor Cravitts distinctly told me to make notes about life on board Petticoat 1 .
SHE WRITES NOTES.
What I do miss is a good home cooked meal. A nice bit of turkey with gravy and potatoes would go down a treat. I don't want to sound ungrateful but this food in a tube is a bit dull. It's like eating barbecue flavoured toothpaste. And the cubes of compact vegetables are quite disgusting.
Oh what I'd give for a sandwich now that I can't have one, Professor Cravitts explained that because of all the what's it called, ...gravity forces that eating sandwiches would be very dangerous, yes the crumbs could fly off and get caught up in one of the vital instruments causing untold havoc. I tried to persuade him otherwise. I assured him that I am and always have been a very neat person who wears a napkin at meal times. But he simply wouldn't have it. Oh well, perhaps I'll lose a bit of weight.
I'd love to get into my lime green cocktail dress once more. I bought it in a sale in 1956 just before I found out I was expecting got it from favourite clothing shop 'Talk of the Gown' a little boutique in Klebertown Heights, it's gone now, they pulled all those stores down and built the mall on the site. Anyway I bought it especially to wear to Margie Dixon's Christmas tree decorating soiree.
I thought I looked so elegant but Biff told me not to stand in the corner for too long as people might stick a fairy on the top of my head instead of on the Christmas tree. Ha ha. As if, Christmas trees don't have legs and they most certainly do not wear Alligator skin stilettos .
Come to think of it I don't recall seeing much of Biff at that particular party. Margie Dixon said the roller door on her garage needed seeing to and Biff said he was just the man for the job and so the pair of them spent the whole party oiling that roller door, tut, tut hope it works. Maybe after all this is over and I get the $100 the men from the government promised me I can buy something really nice and up to the minute and tell Biff I bought it in New York. That'd show that Margie Dixon.
SHE PUTS THE DIARY DOWN.
Well I'm going to try and get some shut eye now, it's not easy to sleep, you'd think it would be, but it's not. I try counting sheep but I just can't seem to do it, I just can't conjure them up instead all I see is a cow jumping over the moon. Night night.
PS: I wish they'd give me another nappy bag, this one is filling up and I'm loathe to empty it. The last time I tried to I made a terrible mess.
LIGHTS DOWN ON LUCY, LIGHTS UP ON JACKY.
What a shocking humiliation for a person. But then life's all about humiliation, I know. I work in catering. (He stands)
I run a small but very successful catering company with my very good friend, Fiona Dewsbury. 'Taylor and Dewsbury' Caterers who care.
It's a very tasteful name, reminiscent of home made plum jam in sturdy glass jars with gingham covered lids strapped securely on top. We cover several functions a week. Fiona does most of the food preparation while I tend to the shopping , running around and the quotes. I'm very good at all that. We do everything, Party Political conferences, Designer sponsored promotions at all the top stores, weddings, bar Mitzvahs, birthdays, anniversaries, bereavement parties, you name it. The hours are very flexible , sometimes up at the crack of dawn marinating a cod ...to a midday meeting with Sir Andrew's PR... to setting up a sit down dinner for twenty at some property developers in Highgate... to washing up and re -ordering the veg at two in the morning. Does it ever stop? We shy away from morning do's, good heavens, power breakfasts, not these days. Used to do a roaring trade back awhile but desperately dull, I mean there's only so many things you can do with a brioche. and pink grapefruit.
I live in a very comfortable one bedroom flat in Kentish Town with one small cat to keep me company. Valentina, a churlish tabby with a very pretty face. We get on well enough, Oh naturally we have our occasional spats but mostly nothing much spoils our time together.She was left to me by a very dear friend whose now deceased, Peter...Peter the quiet eater, he was very ..just so. Tut, tut, (Looks upward) He takes all the good ones doesn't he. Peter named my cat Valentina after Valentina Tereshkova, the very first woman in space...or so he thought. I call her Tina, just Tina it's far easier for us to get to grips with. She's not here at present.
HE PICKS UP THE CATS TOY AND HOLDS IT CLOSE.
My poor baby isn't well, she's at the vets, they think it might be.....serious. Leukemia the vet said, if it is it really would be best not to prolong her pain, she won't feel a thing, Mr Taylor, and it will be quick. How the hell does he know?
HE POURS A SMALL SHERRY WITH A MEASURING GLASS, VERY ACCURATELY.
I'm not really at home that often and when ever I am I don't like to entertain. Well really, talk about a busman's holiday. My friends know better than to visit me in my own home, unannounced. We meet in public places, Art galleries, parks, cinemas, that sort of thing. I don't have a great deal of friends, just people I've known for a very long time. I'm happier in the company of people who know me, I hate meeting new
people especially if they're young. It's so tiresome and on a bad day, depressing. I socialise with Fiona whenever possible but she does have a steady boyfriend and therefore is obliged to see him every so often. Not an easy task, he's a fish buyer you see and always up before the lark to get to Billingsgate.
HE DOWNS THE SHERRY IN ONE.
I'm very good with my hands, I like making things. It comes from my teacher training days I expect, yes I was a Primary School teacher for fifteen years. There's nothing I can't achieve with paper machie, you should see my Taj Mahal, the detail is superb right down to the miniature Princess Diana seated in front. I always directed the Nativity play. I loved it, the smell of the greasepaint the roar of the crowd, I hand stitched the robes of the Wise Men, magnificent.
HE FOLDS A PIECE OF PAPER INTO THE SHAPE OF A SWAN.
Origami, huh, a gift. I genuinely believed that teaching was what I was cut out for. But after awhile I found it unbearable, all those sweet young things embarking on their chosen journeys through life. What if it all went wrong, what good would I have been to them then. Would they remember any of the information passed on to them by Mr Taylor all those years a go? I wasn't really happy constructing other peoples futures, preparing them for what might lie ahead , providing them with a foundation to further their education then burst into the workplace brimming with confidence and correct prepositions. It all seemed too much like defying fate, "Here look, I've done my best now damn well get on with it!"
No, not for me. I'm content now and the only thing I provide are buffets for the charmed and hungry, comfortable in the knowledge that I'm only responsible for their present, their empty stomachs and their special occasions.
HE GOES BACK TO THE SEWING MACHINE.
I sew for recreation. I made our uniforms for work. Loose fitting shirts in Pale egg yoke yellow and white wool crepe trousers...hipsters. I've embroided our logo, a crossed knife and fork and the words 'Taylor and Dewsbury' on each epaulet. I like to sew.
HE LOOKS OVER AT LUCY
She used to knit, not very well, slap dash she was, didn't have my finger control but she tried. I still have one of her early creations. (Shows kids cardy) I remember this. I was made to wear it for years after she was gone. I remember the children laughing at the lopsided sleeves. I remember feeling fiercely protective and loyal to my mothers
handi- work and at the same time deeply humiliated and angry with her for such shoddiness.
LIGHTS UP ON LUCY. LIGHTS STAY ON JACKY HE LOOKS OVER AT HER. (SHE PLUGS IN OLD FASHIONED HAIRDRYER WITH EXTENSION TUBE AND PLASTIC CAP)
Well, I managed to change the nappy without making too much mess. Goodness it takes me back to before my Jacky was potty trained. Of course it's not a nappy in that sense more of a little bag type thingy that I wear in my suit. I don't know how long I've been here now it could be days or it could be weeks well it's unlikely to be weeks , probably just feels that way because it's just so boring. If I'd known I was going to take this long I would have brought a book to read or some knitting to do. Mind that wouldn't have been easy, I drop enough stitches on Earth, Lord knows what I'd be like up here. I did bring a magazine , 'Woman's World' that title certainly takes on a new meaning now. I must have read it about Oh..... 40 times. I know it off by heart and backwards.
SHE TAKES OUT MAGAZINE AND FLICKS THROUGH IT.
Pictures of HRH Princess Margaret's wedding to Mr Antony Armstrong- Jones...Won't last.
how about the gorgeous and pouting Jean Paul Belmondo, aged 25, an actor with a face of significance and a curious, driving appeal, he can be seen in last years classic movie Breathless, so hold your breath ladies he's bound to take it away. The Holly Golightly look from the new film 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' is all the rage , those long cigarette holders are a must for party girls. And talking of Hollywood, you must catch the hip new kiddies film, 101 Dalmatians. I do hope Biff takes Jacky to see it, he's got a real thing about polka dots , just loves them.
Everybodys talking about that handsome and spectacular new Russian Dancer Rudolph Nureyev. Ooh dear Russian, not meant to like them are we? And how to make a pork and cherry pie without wasting any pastry. The other night, well it might have been day who knows, the sun dictates night and day and if you can't see the sun everything's either one long day or one ..long...night. Yes night, a dark night. Anyway I decided to throw a little cocktail party. Well not a real one obviously, a pretend one. So I imagined I was wearing my best dress, my lime green taffeta and I'd invited over all the best people. The President, his lovely wife, um , Marilyn Monroe, yes she was there.
Biff of course, and Ludine Chambers, my best friend. Well I know her. She lives right down the street and has a little girl the same age as Jacky.....Donna Shirley. We often joke that Jacky and Donna Shirley will grow up, start courting and get married. Who knows? Well they were all here my guests and I might add not having the slightest problem with the gravity thingy. I frosted the cocktail glasses and arranged the glace cherries in stripy lines to form the American flag , then I popped on a disc.
BOSSA NOVA MUSIC CAN BE HEARD. SHE PICKS UP A CIGARETTE HOLDER . LUCY STANDS AND MOVES ABOUT AS THOUGH AT A PARTY.
We even had a fancy waiter
JACKY CROSSES OVER WITH A PORTABLE BAR, ABOUT 3'6", ATTACHED TO THE TOP OF THE BAR ARE TWO ROD PUPPETS FACING UPSTAGE. THERE ARE COCKTAIL GLASSES ARE ATTACHED TO THE TOP.
Who served canapés and martinis.
HE BRINGS OUT A TRAY AND SERVES DRINKS AND FOOD TO IMAGINARY GUESTS.
Jacky (To Lucy)
Why thank you.
FOR A MOMENT THE MUSIC STOPS AND LUCY AND JACKY FREEZE STARING AT EACH OTHER. THE MUSIC STARTS AGAIN AND LUCY GENTLY DANCES ALONG TO IT AS JACKY RESUMES HIS SERVICE , UNDULATING TO THE MUSIC. HE GOES BACK BEHIND THE BAR AND OPERATES THE PUPPETS.
We all chatted about everyday things. (She approaches one of the puppets)
Lucy (To puppet)
"So Mrs Kennedy, you don't mind me calling you that do you? No, well I must say you make a very attractive First Lady, would you mind telling me where you bought your hat?"
PUPPET SWINGS AROUND AND IS VOCALISED BY JACKY WHO IS ALSO OPERATING IT.
Jacky as Jacqui K.
"Oh somewhere on Park Avenue, but let's talk about you. I just love this apartment, it's so homey, next time you're in Washington you simply must call us up , we're in the book, Oh look Marilyn Monroe is trying to attract your attention, lovely girl, but why can't she ever find a garment in the right size. "
Oh, do excuse me Mrs Kennedy and please help yourself to a cheese cube.
THE MARILYN PUPPET TURNS AROUND TO FACE THE AUDIENCE. JACKY NOW OPERATES BOTH PUPPETS FROM BEHIND THE BAR.
Jacky as Marilyn
Lucy, Oh Lucy, I've been looking everywhere, do tell, where's the John, and I don't mean the President of the United States? (She laughs) Why howdy Jacquie, love the hat. (She waves) Now Lucy don't let me leave without getting your recipe for crab claw crackers, they are divine, you know what they say...the way to man's heart and all that, isn't that just so Jacquie? Now where's that perky butler? (She Pouts)
Butler, oh Butler.
JACKY POPS UP FROM BEHIND THE BAR, THE PUPPETS GO DOWN.
Would you please ask Frank Sinatra to kindly stop eating all the chilli dip and come on in here and sing, I mean that is what he's being paid for.
(LUCY DANCES TO THE MUSIC AND MIMES THE PARTY, THE MUSIC STOPS ABRUPTLY , JACKY GOES OVER TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STAGE.)
They all seemed to have a lovely time. Even my Biff had a nice time, I wonder if he's is missing me. I hope he's alright for his tea. And I do worry about little Jacky, I'm sure Biff will forget to read him his bedtime stories. No doubt he's just plonked him down in front of the TV set and left him there to ruin his eyesight watching hours of hours of Tom and Jerry cartoons, now you don't have to be a rocket scientist to work out that too much TV is bad for you. Youngsters need fresh air and balls to kick about and besides my Jackys a very sensitive lad, he doesn't find the antics of those two little furry animals very amusing at all. They make him cry, of course Biff says that he's not normal all kids love Tom and Jerry and the roughhousing they get up to and his boy is not going to be any different. Different, from who I wonder. I've turned a deaf ear and a blind eye to the rumours all these years but now that I've had so much time on my own to think I'm not so sure. Margie Dixons twins, Molly and Trixie sure look a lot like my Biff. She said it was because Biff spent so much time around her house fixing things while her husband was on the road selling his wares to pay for their nice dream home and that as if by what's it osis the twins had taken on his facial characteristics. I suppose anything's possible, well good golly gosh I'm living proof of that aren't I?
I hope Professor Cravitts gets in touch with Biff though, he must know by now that I didn't really go to New York city and that the radio competition story was just a hoax. I know he can't tell him the truth, he explained that to me, he said the Russians were everywhere and we couldn't be too careful and I guess he's right. One of our neighbours is Greek and that's quite near Russia I think, so you never know all that time I thought he was speaking Greek perhaps he was really chatting away in Russian. I haven't heard from Professor Cravitts or anyone at Houston Control for some time now. I guess the radios broken I mean they couldn't have just forgotten me, could they?
A SOFT TAPPING CAN BE HEARD. SHE LISTENS INTENTLY. IT STOPS, THEN RESUMES. THEN STOPS.
Oh dear, don't much like the sound of that.
THE TAPPING RESUMES THEN STOPS.
What if that's an alien trying to get in. I mean it is possible. They do live up here and must be very curious about me. Oh dear, I wonder if it speaks English. It'll be a very one sided conversation otherwise because I don't speak a word of alien. Tut, what do you say to an alien? I've never seen a real one before, I've seen them in movies of course, Return to the Forbidden Planet, The Women of Venus. But they're just actors in funny suits, I think.
There it is again. Tapping or banging that's it, just like the noise my wire door makes when its been left off the latch and there's a southerly blowing. Goodness, I hope there's no open doors on this ship. Professor Cravitts was very particular about that, he said under no circumstances should I attempt to open any doors leading to the exit chamber or I'd be in big trouble. He must think I'm very silly. Really...sometimes when I think about that man I get quite cross. How dare he talk to me like I'm a stupid, dozey housewife. How dare he. If he's married, which I very much doubt I certainly feel sorry for his poor wife.
LUCY TRIES TO SLEEP. JACKY STANDS.
And so you should Mum. Mrs Cravitts spent many a lonely night waiting in for her husband to return from work and discuss the children with her. Cravitts..... filthy, dirty , pig, bastard. Oh and for the record Mum, (He looks across at her) I never took a wife and if I had have done I can assure you that I wouldn't have considered Donna Shirley Chambers for the role of Mrs Taylor.
Oh my father and I lingered on for a time in mutual antipathy. No weekend ball games and Sunday cookouts for me. He preferred keeping company with other people's children, or so we naively thought. The Dixon twins, Molly and Trixie were always having their bikes fixed. Roger Murphy, school bully and town hooligan was another favourite. Actually poor old Roger was the first citizen of Klebertown to go to the electric chair. I expect Biff was proud of him even then.
I expect one always holds a special place in their heart for their first born. Not that it was ever proven, way back then in those pre DNA days. Now of course, that DNA testing is de rigour, travel to the moon seems an almost quite forgotten goal.No, no, it's Gene nom mapping these days not lunar mapping, moon boots are forever relegated to the Fondue set cupboard now. People no longer expect to be uprooted and sent hurtling thorough the stratosphere in search of an altogether better planet. No, they're quite content to live here now, ask people, go on ask, they don't want to retire to Mars they want to retire to Florida. It's common knowlege that space travel accelerates the ageing process, so why in God's name would your average 75 year old want to go all that distance only to arrive looking 85, do me a favour. There's still talk of aliens a plenty though, all these alien abductions and eye witness descriptions. Bloody attention seekers.
Bloody X Ophiles. Why Oh why do all these aliens look the same, all like ET. Enormous eyes and long thin necks, for Christ's sake do they all come from the same planet? No wonder they're all flying around the universe like frenzied mosquitoes, their mother planet must be as over populated as bloody Tokyo. And as for impregnating earthling women and creating half alien half human creatures, well that's just absurd. What the hell would they look ? The poor little beggars. Can't you just see them in a Bennetton line up. Chinese, European, Mixed race, Aaghh!
HE RESUMES SEWING.
Do you know my poor little Tina is no longer permitted to play her favourite kitty cat game, no, apparently not, apparently the sound of Tina flicking glass marbles across my polished wooden floorboards with her claws is just too too apalling for the couple downstairs, like a Chinese water torture they said, Oh really, is that so, where's the water, where's the Chinese, if you are going to complain get your bloody facts straight. She wasn't doing any harm, simply playing,having fun the only recreational exercise on offer in this small but entirely adequate Central London flat.
HE LOOKS DOWN AT FLOOR
Why don't you just bloody move out! (Sighs) Oh Tina, I'm sorry, please, please be alright.
In 1962 Biff finally declared he'd had enough of me. I was just five and missing my mother more than anything in this world. Daddy had already moved Hazel Parkfield into Mummy's side of the bed and Hazel Parkfield made it perfectly clear that when the baby came they'd be wanting my room for a nursery. Baby! Another bloody baby! Christ! That man spread his seed the way most people spread margarine. Still, what can you expect from a man who steps on the spiky end of a rake to get a bruised forehead for a party trick.
So back in Blighty, Grandma Padden was a little disconcerted to see me. You see, she'd grown used to living on her own, she was a widow and very pleased about it too. Lets be honest now, the only real benefit in being a woman is to outlive your husband. The men can't take the pace, it's all too much for them and inevitably just before the Silver anniversary they've popped their clogs. Then you're as free as a bird, admittedly an old stringy gamy bird but nonetheless free. No more getting his tea on and warming his slippers. The worlds now your oyster and lets hope to God you're not allergic to them. Grandma referred to Lucy's disappearance as 'The incident'. Biff had convinced her Lucy had run off with someone else. Naturally Grandma was furious. You just didn't do that in her family, Oh no. you made a bad and miserable marriage and you stuck it out until the hateful old bugger died.
LUCY AND JACKY ARE SITTING IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY.
Grandma taught me to sew on her second hand Singer. She did piece work for a big clothing company in Hackney and I helped her out, in fact I fear she only took me in in order to double her earnings.
Oddly, she'd kept all my mothers belongings and so as not to waste money on luxuries such as clothes for me ,I was forced to wear my mothers cast-offs.
In the house I'd wear Lucy's old dresses. "It doesn't matter what people think at your age lad." Grandma would say, waving a wooden spoon about her head, she didn't bake she just liked the effect, a sort of domestic Boddicea, if you like.
"You know what you are and that should be good enough for you." Oh yes, I knew who I was alright.
When I went out I wore a hybrid mixture of Lucy's clothes and old cut offs from factory stock gone wrong. Lucy's dresses were ripped down the middle and stitched together to form a sort of trouser affair. Skirts were made into shorts, the elastic was let out of puffed sleeves giving a flared effect that did little to hide their previous incarnations. I was the only boy in the neighbourhood with a lolly pink overcoat not to mention the floral dungarees, Alexander McQueen eat your heart out.
At first Grandma hardly spoke of Lucy, she removed all her photos and the subject was never brought up, never.
But after a time when she came to know me better she'd talk about her. Sometimes favourably mostly with great irritation.
"Your mother used to drive me round the bend, she was in a world of her own, a right dizzy Lizzie. I swear that girl would have lost her own head if it wasn't screwed on."
"Well, " I said quite sure of my 10yr old self. "It seems this time she's managed to lose her whole body, head and all."
Grandma got cross and slapped me for being cheeky. That was the closest we ever came to physical affection.
The years slipped by and there was still no word of Lucy, we both began to doubt Biff's explanation. When Grandma was feeling particularly magnanimous which wasn't often
she'd mumble observations, like, "It's just not right, she would never have up and left the boy." Once I heard her gossiping with the woman next door , over the fence, where else?
"I think he's done away with her."
"No, really, tut, tut, Americans".
I'd lie awake at night for hours wondering what might have happened. Was it possible?Could Biff have murdered her and if he did what did he do with her body? Did he strangle her in her sleep then dump her little figure in the boot of the car, drive all the way to the river and toss her over the side, only stopping to weigh her down with small boulders? Or did he shoot her in the garage and bury her in the back yard? Has been known to happen? Was she crying out my name, did she feel much pain? These were dark and terrible thoughts for a sensitive youngster to carry to bed.
LIGHT FADES ON LUCY
Gradually over time with no photos to remind me , Lucy's face began to fade and finally I had no memory at all, well only one. I can still see her in her bedroom, standing in front of the dressing table mirror, her face flushed red and contorted in pain as she tugs furiously on the zipper of a lime green cocktail dress.
LIGHT UP ON LUCY. LUCY IS DISHEVELLED.
Knit one, pearl two, knit two, pearl one. It's no good, I can't keep pretending I'm knitting. I thought perhaps I could, I thought that perhaps by the time I came down I'd have finished a lovely pretend mohair sweater for my Jacky. But I can't do it, I got as far as a whole sleeve and then I lost it.
I can't see the earth anymore, and I know it can't see me. Oh where am I? Am I close to heaven? Imagine the look on St Peter's face if I suddenly fronted up at the gates. "Hello there St Peter, I know this is not the conventional route but as I'm here do you suppose I could come in?"
Imagine that, visiting Heaven before you're dead, going back and telling everyone all about it. Is that why they sent me up here, is that the real reason? I heard that tapping again last night, was it last night? I don't know. I don't work on a twenty four hour clock anymore, but I know I heard it, tap, tap, tap. I'm going to take a look at it later, I am. That's why I'm here to investigate the unknown, me that's right, little me Lucy Taylor, nee Padden, Ambassador from earth. Hold on a minute, what's that?.......
LUCY STANDS AND TENTATIVELY WANDERS OFF STAGE. LIGHTS UP ON JACKY.
I like being on my own, I'm suited to it. Sharing is not one of my virtues I fear. As a child it meant I could play with my Barbies without interruption. Grandma Padden didn't mind, anything that keeps him quiet's all right with me, they were second hand of course, passed down to me by the slutty blonde teenager next door, Dawn or Pam or Jean, can't recall. In 1965, I saved my pocket money and purchased Astronaut Barbie, now isn't that odd, post marketing boasts, Astronaut Barbie, already in her first spacesuit long before real women went into orbit. Don't care for them much these days, gone off, too many hangers on. Midge, Smidge, Ken, Ben, Melly, Kelly now bloody baby Shelley. Yes, Barbies new little sister Shelly! Oh come, come, work it out, if Barbie's celebrating her the big 40, her mother must be at least 60, so where the bloody hell did baby bloody Shelly come from? If you want people to believe the fantasy you must stay rooted in the truth. I'm never lonely and she'd got a baby sister...of course it's lovely to have the odd cuddle and watch a re run with someone but at the end of the day you come into the world alone and so you leave it. I went to the Greek Islands once, long ago when I was a student, 1976, the hottest summer that Britain had known and I missed it. I was sunning myself on Mykonos safe in the newly discovered knowledge that I would never father a child. Socrates was 17 and as pretty as a picture. He milked goats and moulded fetta cheese into appetising portions. He sang like an angel and smashed plates like a mad man. I adored him and he well ...he was very kind to me. I think of him still...quite often these days. No doubt he's married and the patriarch of some large clan by now. He probably sports a fat belly and a bald head and a long greasy beard. You see, he stressed that it was all a bit of fun...something to be getting on with until he could afford a bride, but it was more than that to me...regrets I've had a few...Oh Socrates what a lovely bride I'd have made. I've had other friends of course, all of them unique in their own special way. But Socrates made me feel something that is rare for me, he made me feel irresponsible. Flighty and irresponsible. Ah sweet gay abandon.
THERE IS NOW A LOUD TAPPING NOISE. LIGHTS UP ON LUCY.
You won't believe this old Cravitts but I think I just saw someone else. That's right there are two of us. I'm sure I saw another space ship go by, I'm convince of it. Well I suppose I could be mistaken, I've never been a truly reliable witness, my mother always said that, she said that "If I saw a trolley bus run over King George , I probably wouldn't even notice , not even bat an eyelid." Head in the clouds she always said, head in the clouds, huh, if only she knew. But I did see someone else, the little arrow on my thingy here went all the way over to the right, surely that must mean something, surely. Oh who knows, the radio doesn't even work so whose to say anything else does.
LUCY STAYS FROZEN IN HER SEAT. LIGHTS UP ON JACKY.
Gary was a sweetheart, he was a trolley dolly or flight attendant as we are now required to refer to them. Up, up and away. He kept a small but tidy flat at the Elephant. Why, I'd say, Oh why do you insist on residing in the armpit of the Capital. He'd just shrug and say, "The contrast Jacky dear, I love the contrast, Puerto Rico, San Francisco, Honolulu, Manhattan then back to the Elephant, keeps me rooted, keeps me feet firmly planted on Terra Firma as they say . He was so dapper was Gary, I suppose one had to be in his particular line of work. Flying's terrifying enough without being served coffee and mints by someone resembling a Hogarth tableau. Very well turned out was Gary, always had tickets for all the first nights, always shopping at the best stores, drinking the finest wines. He adored his antiques too, had quite a few. I'll tell you who he strongly resembled, that Dr Smith from that old telly thingy, 'Lost in Space' what a load of cods.
LIGHTS UP ON LUCY (LOOKING AT THE MONITOR)
Was it a Russian?
I wonder what they're really like those Russians, are they really red, I expect their noses are, it's supposed to be very cold over there isn't it ? They say watch out, the reds are under the bed, but I'm quite safe , I haven't got a bed in here, no room.
JACKY LOOKS UP FROM THE DIARY
I knew a Russian once, Vlad, he was a mime artist, yes really. Met him at a function, he commented favourably on our Sushi Surprise. said it reminded him of the meals his mother made. I don't think so. The handi work that goes into just one of our Sushi Surprises would make one want to weep. I said as much, he did a magnificent French toast and I told him so, wouldn't want to move to Moscow though, I won't queue, simply won't. Haven't the patience, mark my words if I'm ever on the waiting list for a liver transplant don't expect me to hang about.
When I sleep I dream but when I wake up I think I'm still dreaming. My dreams are so odd, even odder than normal and not just those tiresome anxiety dreams when you're searching madly for a loo.
I've had so much time for thinking these past weeks, I guess it's weeks, well I hope it's weeks and not months. I've thought about every single day of my life, every detail.
So there Mother. I do notice things. but one thing stands out in my memory, it's a scene from a film
MUSIC FROM FILM SCORE STARTS. FADE UP DURING SPEECH.
I went to see when I was a girl. 'Now Voyager' with Bette Davis and Paul Henreid. Bettes looking out of the window up into the night sky and she says something like "Don't lets reach for the moon when we can have the stars" I never understood that before, I didn't know what it meant. But I do now, I think I really do.
MUSIC FADES. TAPPING NOISE RESUMES.
Just in case something goes wrong. I'm going to go and see what it might be. I know this sounds crazy but I can't just sit here wondering I have to know. I'm going out to the exit chamber to see what the trouble is. Just in case...anything happens....someone please look after my Jacky and make sure he eats properly good food is so important to the health.
LUCY STANDS UP DETERMINEDLY AND EXITS THE STAGE.
Jacky (Seated at sewing machine)
On April 12th, 1961 Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gargarin became the first man in space when his Vostok spacecraft completed a single orbit of the Earth. America was humiliated, President Kennedy proposed a bold new scheme, the United states would land a man on the moon before the end of the decade. On the 20th February, 1962 John Glenn became the first American to orbit the Earth.
The Vostock programme continued to produce space firsts. Two spacecraft in orbit at once and the first woman in space, Valentina Tereshkova, miow, on 16th June 1963.
In May 1969 Apollo 10 carried out a rehearsal for the docking manoeuvres in Moon orbit. On 20th July 1969, Neil Armstrong became the first man to land on the Moon. And of course that's what all the fuss was about, everything after that was an anti -climax.
My mother's flight took off on March 1st,1961, six whole weeks before Yuri Gargarins fateful launch, apparently he told several big wig Muscovites he thought he had witnessed a flying object sporting an American flag. This we believe to have been Petticoat 1, my mothers ship. But the Politburo did not want to hear that piece of extra terrestrial gossip. So it was never discussed again. Poor old Yuri met a mysterious death some time later, oh intrigue, where would we be without you? Then, wouldn't you know it, on January 25th, 1962 Professor Cravitts and his cronies finally succeeded in bring Petticoat 1 back to Earth. Hallelujah! Everything was intact, expect for a small door panel inside the exit chamber, it had gone, completely vanished. I believe Lucy had wandered out to investigate the mysterious tapping only to be sucked out of this panel down the chute and into the stratosphere. There she stayed floating forever into nothingness to spend all eternity in space.
Grandma Padden is still alive, God bless her laddered nylons. She lives in a continuing inpatient care home full of shadows and broken wills. She nods when I visit and clutches my hand when I leave. I told her what I knew, it didn't seem to sink in which came as no surprise. She just stared straight ahead but the nurses told me later they'd found her looking out of the window up into the night sky and softly singing a tuneless ditty from an obscure 1930's musical, 'I've told every little star just how sweet I think you are, why haven't I told you'.Tut, tut. Silly goose.
PHONE RINGS. JACKY LOOKS TERRIFIED, HE TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND AFTER CIRCLING IT FOR A MOMENT ANSWERS IT.
Yes. Yes...she is? (He is relieved beyond belief) That's wonderful news, thankyou Doctor...oh alright, Steven, thankyou so much, yes of course I'll pick her up first thing tomorrow. Bye bye.
She's going to be alright, it was just a cold, my Tina's coming home at last. I rather like that Dr Steven, lovely eyes, charismatic, I do so admire a man whose in tune with an animals feelings, as long as it doesn't get out of hand.
HE GOES BACK TO THE SEWING MACHINE AND LOOKS AT HIS SCRAP BOOK.
I promised the truth didn't I? (He looks at ansaphone) Sheriff Chuck Flanagan, Oh come on now sheriff, if I make a fuss with the people who matter, I'll be hushed up and labelled yet another dislocated lunatic. But our species does listen to rumours, that's one of it's many flaws. And rumours spread with alarming speed. We've all heard them, the wet cat in the microwave, the bouncing decapitated boyfriends head on the roof of the car, the baby spiders spurting out from bulbous growths under the skin. We've all laughed them off but we've remembered them and ever so slightly wondered at their origin. So I'll continue telling my story hoping that those who hear it will pass it on until one day I hope to believe it myself, to believe you didn't just walk out and leave me.
HE ERASES THE MESSAGE.
American News reader voice over.
Archaeologists excavating the recently discovered Native American burial ground near Klebertown , Ohio, today unearthed a surprising find. The remains of what appears to be a mature Caucasian female , believed to be buried some forty years before. Dental records have identified the woman but her name can not be released until the next of kin has been notifed.Sherrif Chuck Flannagan is treating the matter with suspicion .
LITTLE BLINKING LIGHTS ALA MIRROR BALL, BELLS CHIMING. JACKY LOOKS UP AT THE LIGHTS.
Well Mum, wherever you are this is for you.
HE TAKES THE GARMENT HE HAS BEEN STITCHING FROM THE MACHINE AND HOLDS UP A BRAND NEW LIME GREEN COCKTAIL DRESS HE SINGS 'LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS' AS THE LIGHTS DIM THE SOUNDTRACK OF 'LUCY IN THE SKY, WITH DIAMONDS' FADES UP AND LUCY, WEARING A LIME GREEN TAFFETA GOWN DANCES AROUND THE STAGE.
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