CONNIE
First performed by Jan Wyld at Salisbury and Exeter Fringe Festivals and at the Drayton Arms in Kensington in 2012 and 2013. It was recorded for Soundwork-uk.co.uk in 2017 and published by Oxford Flash Fiction in 2021.
Nursing Home. Connie, a very elderly lady, sits in bed. She can neither communicate nor move. The monologue is taking place in her head.
(Connie sits up normally and speaks initially as if to a Care Assistant)
Go away. Not today. Fly, fly, bye-bye. Buy time, my time, time place. My space.
See the floor grow into the walls. Crawl up the walls. Bright, sight, sun light through coloured glass. Turquoise, kingfisher blue. Fine shine, taffeta silk sheen on the walls. Gleam on the walls.
They don’t know there’s a mouse. Comes to chat, look at that no cat, when it’s quiet. … Someone drops crumbs on my bed. House mouse knows. Whiskers them away. Nibbles. Nibbles. Pretty pink hands.
(Mimics Care Assistant) ‘Here we are, Connie. Nice cup of tea.’
It’s not a cup, give up, upper cup, upper cut. It’s a beaker leaker. Thing you give to babies. Don’t think I’ll drink. Not going to sink to that.
(Mimics Care Assistant) ‘Here we are.’
Clear, we are here. Too near. I wish you weren’t. Interrupts my flow. Go. No, the silly woman comes in with her ‘Here we are’s’ and ‘Nice cups of tea’. Can’t she see, I’m busy … organising my party.
(Mimics Care Assistant) ‘See you later.’
You might. You might not. I might go out. Go out like a light. Give you a fright …
That’ll thwart you, caught you, taught you, teach you teacher, preacher and your beaker leaker.
SILENCE
Don’t like this blanket. Smells of mould and cold. I’m old. They told me, I’m old. Held a ‘do’. How d’you do? Hullabaloo. My space was full of bodies. No idea who they were. Who’s there? Don’t care. Want some peace. “This is your niece” Bluebell, Tinkerbell, Mirabelle, Daisybelle, or some dingling, dangling, jingling, jangle-spangled old person come on the day, all the way from New Zealand … or Wales.
A hundred. Telegram and foolish man … kept repeating, ‘Century not out’, ‘Century not out’. Something about … football anyway. Any way at all.
He wasn’t tall.
(She hears the Care Assistant enter)
Door creak, smell leak, piss reek. Why do you enter my place in the world of my own making a noise?
(Mimics Care Assistant) ‘Time to take your tablets, Connie.’
No.
Didn’t take ‘em yesterday, pesterday or the day before the war. Don’t pretend anymore. Won’t wait anymore to spit ‘em out till after she’s gone.
There. Learn who’s who. What will you do? Who’s boss? She’s cross and I don’t care a toss of the head of the bed.
(The Care Assistant forces a tablet into her mouth)
(Mimics Care Assistant) ‘Come on Con, don’t be difficult.’
Mmmm (appears to swallow the tablet)
She’s gone.
(She spits)
Don’t call me Con.
SILENCE
Face in the rug, smug rug – beady, black eyes and a long nose. Mother called it ‘aquiline.’ Very fine. She tried to better herself.
Here come my guests, not pest guests. Interesting people. Come by invitation, conversation, witty, pretty, ditty people. No tablets and beaker leakers. Respect me, directly address me correctly as Constance or Mrs. Brown.
(Connie gets up to welcome her guests)
Hello. Welcome.
(She fusses with her skirt, as if having received a compliment)
Thank you. I bought it last week. New. Turquoise, kingfisher blue. Fine shine, taffeta silk sheen. Be seen. Be Queen of the night. Bright in the light, glittering sight, sweet delight.
Frank. So glad you could come. The party wouldn’t be the same.
(She becomes coquettish) The dancing will start soon and swoon and over the moon.
Let’s stand a moment together forever watching the rest in the glow and the flow and the show.
(She giggles as she talks to Frank and points out other guests)
Look at his whiskers. He has such beady eyes, aquiline nose, smart clothes and his spouse mouse has pretty pink hands?
Help yourself to crumbs. Nibbles. Nibbles.
PAUSE
MUSIC (‘Cheek to Cheek’ Fred Astaire)
Ah, the music’s playing, swaying. First dance, first glance, last chance. My oldest friend … in our timeless place. Handsome face. Grace and lace. Last dance, last glance, last chance.
(She dances, as if with a partner. When the music finishes, she is breathless)
MUSIC FADES.
You’ve worn me out … but you haven’t lost your touch. Such touch, so much touching, moving … moving away.
(She greets another guest)
Ruby, I’m so glad you came. Yes, it’s sad. Nothing lasts forever and a day. Be nice to stay, but we’re leaving as soon as the party’s over. To live in clover … nearly over …
(Connie returns to bed)
Must you all go so soon … we’ve just begun … in the sun. It’s set and there’s hardly a moon … so soon … over so soon …
(Connie stops breathing)
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