The stage is BLACK, no scenery, with two plastic seats arranged side by side, facing square onto the audience, about two feet apart.
GEORGE and EMILY enter from SL and SR respectively and sit facing the audience, hands resting on their laps, not completely comfortable. GEORGE is late fifties, EMILY is late twenties. They speak as if the other is not there, intertwining monologues, except towards the end.
GEORGE
I'm George and I have to ring my Mother in (looks at watch) 7 minutes time.
EMILY
I'm Emily and I really have to ring my Mother in (looks at watch) 7 mins time.
GEORGE
I'm George and I have to ring my Mother in 7 minutes time because she is a stickler for the time.
EMILY
I'm Emily and I have to ring my Mother in 7 mins time because she gets very worried if I don't.
GEORGE
I'm George and when I ring my Mother I get all kinds of moaning, she moans for England, she moans for the world.
EMILY
I'm Emily and my Mother has a path-o-log-ical (slowly, like trying to pronounce it for the first time) attention to the time.
GEORGE
My Mother starts moaning the second she picks up the phone.
EMILY
My Mother has a pathological (better this time) attention to detail, and worries about every single thing, whatever it is.
GEORGE
Moaning about all sorts.
EMILY
Complaining and whinging about everything.
GEORGE
President Donald Trump.
GEORGE
The noisy children.
EMILY
The state of the NHS.
GEORGE
Her ingrowing toenails.
EMILY
Prime Minister Boris Johnson and his Father.
GEORGE
The dreadful next door neighbours.
EMILY
Mrs curtain twitcher across the road.
EMILY
The dogs in her neighbourhood. Her neighbourhood.
GEORGE
That Keir Starmer (or leader of the opposition of your choice)
EMILY
The stray cats. Really.
GEORGE
The government. The one she voted in.
EMILY
Her strange headaches.
GEORGE
And never hears a word of what I might have to say, not a word. I have to make excuses for hanging up.
EMILY
I worry I might be like her, I worry I'm like my Mother.
GEORGE
I have a list of excuses, I go back to the beginning of the list every two weeks.
EMILY
I am good at my job. Very good at my job. It involves lists.
GEORGE
My Mother hasn't realised its a list, a list of hanging up excuses.
EMILY
My colleagues have mentioned it, my attention to detail in my job.
GEORGE
I tested the list the other day, last Tuesday, to be precise. I said the same excuse as the day before, the Monday.
EMILY
I took a test. It was an autism test to see if I was in any way autistic, a brain thing.
GEORGE
She passed the test with flying colours, she didn't notice.
EMILY
I failed the test, I'm not autistic.
GEORGE
I won't do the test again, just in case, just in case she does notice.
EMILY
My Father left my Mother after only two years and five months. And six days, I think.
GEORGE
My Father left my Mother after five years, she wouldn't give him a divorce.
EMILY
There is no trace of the marriage. She worked in the marriage section of the government. She erased all traces of the marriage.
GEORGE
I know my Father, I like him, he lives in Bognor.
EMILY
I do not know my Father, he is a mystery and no tracing websites or government departments can help me find him.
GEORGE
I visit my Father often. Bugger Bognor is quite a nice place, in spite of what you might think.
EMILY
She erased all traces of my Father, I worry I shall never find him. My Mother had an (pause) attention to detail.
GEORGE
When I eventually retire I'm moving there to see out my Father's days with him.
EMILY
When my divorce came through, the Decree Absolute, she never mentioned it, just all about herself, moan moan moan.
GEORGE
When my wife died my Mother mentioned her only once, at the funeral. Said she was never good enough for me. After 25 years!
EMILY
I don't visit my Mother. My Mother doesn't like visitors, not even me.
GEORGE
My Mother doesn't like me to visit. All that baking she has to do, all that dusting, all that re-arranging the furniture, all that polishing. No, no visitors.
EMILY
My Mother has friends who want to help and she rejects every one. She has not many friends left, just the religious ones, hoping for a conversion - to make my Mother a nicer person. Some hope. Some hope.
GEORGE
I didn't phone her at the allotted time, once. I had her ringing me up instantly, I was afraid to answer the phone at all. So I didn't. It was the wrong thing to do, that, not ringing, and not answering, She really laid into me about my failings as a husband and as a son. Really laid into me, it was horrible.
EMILY
I once didn't phone my Mother at the allotted time, because I had a high fever, and was delusional - not an unpleasant experience actually - she didn't ring me. She has my phone number. But I got weird messages from unknown numbers on my phone. I got odd Facebook posts.
EMILY
My Mother is not on Facebook.
GEORGE
I'm George and I want this to stop.
EMILY
I'm, Emily and I, too, want this to stop.
GEORGE/EMILY
My Mother moans and moans and moans and moans.
GEORGE/EMILY
We are going to make it stop.
GEORGE
I'm George and I met Emily at the support group.
EMILY
I'm Emily and I met George at the support group.
GEORGE/EMILY
We love the support group.
GEORGE/EMILY
We are going to make it stop.
GEORGE
I know where Emily's Mother lives.
EMILY
I know where George's Mother lives.
GEORGE/EMILY
We have a pact.
GEORGE
We are very different people.
EMILY
We are very different people. George is old.
GEORGE
Emily is too young for this.
GEORGE/EMILY
We are going to make it stop.
GEORGE
See, it's 2 minutes past the time.
EMILY
See, it's 2 minutes over the time.
GEORGE
I haven't rung my Mother, it's gone the time.
EMILY
I haven't rung my Mother, its past the time.
GEORGE/EMILY
We have a pact.
GEORGE
At this time, next Tuesday the 21st at 9pm it will stop.
EMILY
At this time, next Tuesday the 21st of April, at 9pm precisely, my life will be mine. For the first time.
GEORGE
For the first time.
GEORGE/EMILY
We love the support group.
We have a pact.
(Both look at watches.)
Its past the time.
