CHRONICLES OF HALDEN, II
The
Banner:
a dramatic tetralogy
 |
by
Robin
Gordon |
Part
1: Sid
- Auksford, 2010
-
Characters in order of
appearance
Mrs
Gormley
Jim Gormley
Sandra
Effie
King
Ronno
Little Willie
Ken
Stan
Steve
Pete
Andy
Albert Gormley
Alice
Ted
Jake Thatcher
Sid Thatcher
First Drinker
Mrs Howe
Nails Palmer
Tommo
King’s gang
Nails
Palmer’s gang
Tommo’s mates:
Nelly, Claggy, Wank & Hutch
Customers in the
“Leg and Leper”
Second Drinker (non-speaking)
Three young men
(non-speaking)
* * *
Don Diègue:
O rage, ô désespoir, ô vieillesse
ennemie!
(Oh rage, oh black despair! Old age my enemy!)
-- Corneille: Le Cid
* * *
Rodrigue:
Puisqu’ après tout mon père est
l’offensé,
si l’offenseur est père de Chimène.
(Since, after all, my father is offended,
though his offender’s father to Chimène)
-- Corneille: Le Cid
* * *
ACT I, SCENE 1
The
living room of the
Gormleys’ house
Mrs Gormley, Jim Gormley
Mrs
Gormley: Hey! Where
d’you think
you’re going?
Jim:
Out.
Mrs
Gormley:
Out where?
Jim:
Just out.
Mrs
Gormley:
What do you
mean, “just out”? I asked you where
you’re
going, and I expect a proper answer. You treat this house like a
hotel. You seem to think I'm just here to cook your meals and
clear up after you. You treat me like a servant, like a
skivvy. You’ve got no respect for me, or your
father.
You never tell us anything – and where do you think
you’re going to now? Come here when I’m
talking to
you, you cheeky little beggar, and answer my question: where are you
going?
Jim:
Just out. Nowhere.
Mrs
Gormley:
I never know where you are. You could be up to anything for all I know.
– You’re not going with that gang?
Jim:
What gang?
Mrs
Gormley:
Don’t you “what
gang?”
me. You know what gang, and don’t say you
don’t. That
boy King and those hooligans of his. They’re going to get
into
serious trouble one of these days, so you’re
not going around with them. Understand?
Jim:
Yeah.
Mrs
Gormley:
You know what your father said, don’t you?
Jim:
Yeah.
Mrs
Gormley:
He said
he’d take his belt to you if you got into trouble.
That’s what he said, and that’s what
he’ll do.
So mind on. And you know what else he said, don’t
you? If you can’t let us know where
you’re going,
you’re not going out at all. So you can take your
choice:
either you tell me where you’re going or you can get upstairs
to
bed – and don’t look like that when I speak to
you!
It’s for your own good, though I don’t know why I
bother, I
really don’t. Dumb insolence, that’s what
it
is. Dumb insolence!
Jim:
Look! I’m not going out with King’s gang.
I’m going to the pictures with Sidney.
Mrs
Gormley:
Huh! Sidney!
She
pauses. Jim does not take up her challenge.
Mrs
Gormley:
What do you want always to be going round with that
“Sidney” for?
Jim
[wearily]:
What's wrong with Sidney?
Mrs
Gormley:
Well if you don't know, you can hardly expect me to tell you.
Jim
shrugs and turns away.
Mrs
Gormley:
It’s not natural. Why don’t you go round with boys
your own age?
Jim:
Sid’s only four years older than me.
Mrs
Gormley:
Four years is a lot at your age.
Jim:
He knows
about things.
Mrs
Gormley:
I’ll bet
he does!
Jim:
Art and literature and films and music and that. Culture!
Mrs
Gormley:
Culture!
Jim:
Yeah, culture.
What’s wrong wi’ culture? I thought you
wanted uz to
get on. You used to be always on about it
– and now
I’m going round wi’ somebody sophisticated, you
don’t
like that.
Well I
don’t always want to be stuck here in a dump like Swarrell,
wi’ nothin' to do but telly an’ booze an’
that.
I
don’ wanna end up like me Dad!
Mrs
Gormley:
Oh, so
we’re not good enough for you now, is that
it? We've
scrimped and saved to keep you at that school so you could get your
O-Levels, and this is all the thanks we get. You could have
been
earning good money – it wasn’t easy for us, you
know, with
your Dad in and out of work. There’s been times I
haven’t
known where the next penny’s coming from. And if
…
if you think we went through all that for you to go prancing round with
your fancy
Sidney with his fancy
airs and graces … well … you’ve got
another think coming.
Jim:
I’m going out.
Exit
Jim.
Mrs
Gormley [calling
after him]:
There’s only one thing that Sid Thatcher wants you for
– and don’t say I didn’t warn you!
ACT
I, SCENE 2
A
street corner. Effie and Sandra.
Sandra:
So what are we going to do then?
Effie
shrugs.
Sandra:
Well, are we going down to the Boot then?
Effie:
If you like.
Sandra:
We could find Ernie King and the lads.
Effie:
If you like.
Sandra:
I don’t
know what’s got into you, Effie, I really don’t.
You
don’t know what you want to do, you don’t care
where we
go. Hey, you must be in love. That’s it:
you’re
in love, aren’t you?
Effie:
So, what if I am?
Sandra:
Are you though, are you?
Effie:
Oh well, you see, it’s this fella. I
can’t get him out of me mind.
Sandra:
Have you spoken to him? Have you told him?
Effie:
No.
Sandra:
Why not?
Effie:
What’s the good?
Sandra:
What d’ya mean, “what’s
the good”?
D’ya fancy him or
don’t you?
Effie:
Yeah.
Sandra:
Well tell him.
Effie
shrugs.
Sandra:
Well how can you expect him to fancy you if you won’t even
speak to him?
Effie:
I don't.
Sandra:
You don’t?
Effie:
No.
Sandra:
Why ever not? You mean he’s got someone else?
Effie
nods.
Sandra:
Well, even so, he could still prefer you.
Effie:
He won’t.
Sandra:
How do you know?
Effie:
He’s that sort of bloke.
Sandra:
What do you mean, he’s that sort of bloke?
Effie
shrugs.
Sandra:
He’s not married is he?
Effie:
No.
Sandra:
Well then?
Effie:
He won’t fancy me.
Sandra:
Course he
will. Any bloke would. They’re always
saying
so. They think you’re great. Honest.
Effie:
Ay, I know.
All those healthy, normal blokes can’t wait to get their
hands on
me, and I have to get hung up on him.
Sandra:
Who? Come on, who is it?
Effie:
Sid Thatcher.
Sandra:
Sid Thatcher?!
Effie:
Yeah.
Sandra:
But …
Effie:
I know.
Sandra:
But he is,
isn’t he?
Effie:
So they say.
Sandra:
But he must be. He’s running after Jim Gormley
– he’s started calling him Kim.
Effie
[with
a sudden spark of anger]:
That’s it. That’s the trouble.
Little
fancy-pants Kim Gormley. He’s leading Sid
astray.
Going swanking round calling himself Kim and getting Sid to take him to
posh films and operas and art galleries and that.
Sandra:
They’ll be going to ballet
next.
Effie:
I’ll give
him ballet! Listen Sand, I’m sure Sid’s
not like that
really. It’s that Kim Gormley.
Sandra:
That’s not what I heard.
Effie:
I don’t care
what you heard. I met him the other day –
it’s the
only time I’ve ever spoken to him – and he
wasn’t a
bit like people say.
Sandra:
It’s disgusting. He should be put away.
Effie
[in
despair]:
He’s not
queer! He’s not!
I’m sure if I could just get to know him properly I could
make him … love me. [Pleading]:
You’ll help me, won’t you, Sand?
Sandra:
I always get
landed, don’t I? Oh well, I suppose I could fancy
Jim
Gormley. It’s that innocent look of his.
I’ll feel as
if I’m cradle-snatching.
Effie:
Oh, ta, Sand. I know it’ll be alright.
Sandra:
Hey, look out. It’s King’s gang.
Enter
King’s gang.
King:
Hallo, little dollies. Pining for me, were you?
Sandra:
You must be joking.
King:
What about a little kiss for your old pal King?
Sandra:
Gerroff, you!
King:
Aw, come on.
Gang
[cheering]:
Raaay!
Sandra:
A said Gerroff,
didn’t A? And watch where you’re putting
your hands,
Ernie King. I’m not cheap, you know.
King:
S’orright, love, I’m not mean.
Gang:
Wayhay!
Sandra:
One of these days, Ernie King, one of these days …
King:
Is that a promise love?
Sandra:
Oh!
Ronno:
Aw, come on, man, King. We’re all waiting on ya.
Gang:
Yeah,
come on.
Come on, we’re waiting.
We’ve gotta get them!
Let’s go.
King:
Ay, orright, A’m comin.
Sandra:
Where you going?
King:
Can’t bear to be parted from me, is that it?
Sandra:
Huh! Gerroff!
Ronno:
We’re going queer-bashing.
Gang:
Yeah!
Willie:
We're going to do ’em over, aren’t we,
King? We're going to give them a real duffing up.
King:
You tell ’em, La’al Willie.
Willie:
We're gonna punch ’em and kick ’em!
Gang:
Yeah!
Willie:
We’re gonna get ’em on the ground!
Gang:
Yeah!
Willie:
We’re gonna kick ’em in the balls!
Gang:
Yeah!
Willie:
And in the guts!
Gang:
Yeah!
Willie:
We’re gonna kick their heads in!
Gang:
Yeah!
Willie:
We’re gonna slaughter ’em:
Gang:
Yeah!
Yeah!
We’ll show ’em;
That’s right!
Raaayhaaay!
Sandra:
Ooh, you little monster!
King:
What do you mean, little monster? He’s a great
little fighter is Willie.
Willie
[arrogantly]:
Yeah!
Sandra:
He’s a bloodthirsty little beast.
Ronno:
He’s a spunky little devil, inn’e lads?
Ken
[rumpling
Willie]: Yeah.
Right little fighting cock.
Willie:
I’m warning ya!
Stan:
Wassa marrer, Willie?
Willie:
Gerroff!
King:
Orright, lads, leave ’im be. We’ve go to get after
Sid Thatcher and his boyfriend.
Effie:
What?!
King:
What’s up wid ’er?
Sandra:
You’re not really going after Sid Thatcher and Jim Gormley,
are you?
King:
Course we are.
Ronno:
A said we were going queer-bashing, didn’t A?
Effie:
Sid’s not a queer. Leave him alone.
King:
What’s up wid ’er?
Sandra:
She’s in love with him.
King:
That great poofter? Next thing you’ll
be
telling me you fancy Jim
Gormley.
Sandra:
So, what if A
do? He’s better looking than you at any
rate. Anyway,
what harm have they done you, and what right have you got to go round
calling other people queers and beating them up. You seem to
think that anybody that doesn’t join your rotten gang is
queer. Well you’re wrong.
You don’t know anything at all about them two. Only
what
you’ve made up your own selves. You ask Steve about
it. He
used to go round with Jim Gormley. Go on, you ask him.
Steve
suddenly finds himself the centre of attention and is greatly
embarrassed by it.
Sandra:
Well, is he or isn’t he?
Steve:
Um …
Sandra:
Steve would never have gone round with a queer.
Steve:
No. Least, he wasn’t when I went round with him.
Sandra:
There you are. So leave ’em alone, both of
’em.
Ken:
Don’t listen to ’er, King.
Gang:
No.
Come on.
Let’s get them.
Everybody knows they’re queers.
Sandra
[snuggling
sexily up to
King]: Tell me
you’ll do what I ask;
you will, won’t you, Ernie.
King
[cuddling
her]:
You comin’ down be’ind the engine sheds, then?
Sandra:
If you like.
Ronno
[to
Effie]:
How about it?
Effie:
If you promise to leave them alone.
King:
All right. We’ll leave ’em.
Gang:
Aw, King.
Aw, come on.
They’re queers.
Come on, let’s get
’em.
King
[impatient
for his oats]:
I said leave ’em, didn’t I? So leave
’em.
I haven’t got time to stand here all night while you lot
argue
about it. Right. We leave ’em.
But we’ll
be watching, and if we catch ’em at it, we’ll
debollock
’em.
The
gang give a
faint, dispirited cheer. Exeunt King and Sandra, Effie and
Ronno. The girls already giggling as King’s and
Ronnos
hands begin to explore.
Sandra:
Oooh! You never think of anything else, do you?
King:
No. Do you?
The
gang are left in boredom.
Ken:
Bloody rotten!
Pete:
What we gonna do then?
Willie:
Let’s do Steve. It’s all his
fault. What did he want to say they weren’t queers
for?
Stan:
He must be one himself.
Andy:
Aw, leave him alone.
Willie
[chanting
and clapping
in time to his chant]:
We’re
going
to take
his trousers
off!
We’re
going
to take
his trousers
off!
Ken:
Aw, give it a rest, Willie.
Pete:
Let’s go down the One-Oh-One.
Stan:
No. You spend all your money on a flash tart, then you
don’t even get a nibble.
Ken:
Could go for a few beers.
Pete:
We’ve been chucked out of every pub in Swarrell.
Andy:
Even the Leg
and Leper.
Ken:
Let’s go down Nelson Street.
Willie:
There’s nowt down there. Let’s go down
the canal, eh?
They
drift off aimlessly.
Stan:
We could’ve had a good time tonight, but for them tarts.
Willie:
Let’s get Steve, eh?
Ken:
Should we get some chips?
Stan:
Not from that rotten dump in Nelson Street.
ACT
I, SCENE 3
The
bar at the "Leg and Leper". Alice behind the bar, Albert
Gormley, Ted, other drinkers.
Gormley:
Hallo darling. How about a little kiss then?
Alice:
Gettoff, Mr Gormley. None of that.
Gormley:
Don’t you fancy me any more?
Alice:
Not half as much as you fancy yourself. Now what’s
it going to be?
Gormley:
That’s up to you, darling.
Alice:
I mean, what are you going to order?
Gormley:
Pint of bitter – best, mind. Mr
Leckford’s special. None of the weak rubbish you
sometimes serve.
Alice
draws the beer.
Ted:
Looks like rain, Albert.
Gormley:
Ay, but they still charge for it like best bitter.
Gormley
and Ted laugh uproariously. Alice puts on an expression of
pained boredom.
Gormley
[to
Ted]:
What’ll you have?
Ted:
Pint of best bitter and a pound out of the till.
Gormley:
Right, Alice love, another pint and a pound out of the till.
Gormley
and Ted are even more amused by this. Alice serves them
without changing her expression.
Gormley:
What’s got into you tonight Alice, you’re usually
the life and soul of the party.
Ted:
Got lots of bounce has our Alice.
Gormley
[cupping
his hands
before his chest as if supporting large, full breasts]:
Buoyancy!
Ted:
Boy-ancy nothing. It takes a man
to satisfy our
Alice, don’ it, love?
Alice:
Better man than you, anyway.
Gormley:
Ay, that’s telling him. [Confidentially]
You need a real man, Alice. I’ll see you after closing time,
eh?
Alice:
Come closing time you can hardly walk,
never mind anything else.
Gormley:
There’s not a man in this town can hold his liquor better
than I
can. I
can drink any man in this town under the table.
Some
of the other drinker cheer and applaud.
Alice
[acidly]:
That’s exactly what I mean.
Gormley
pays for the drinks.
Ted:
I’ll bag that table in the corner.
Gormley:
Take the crisps.
Alice:
Change.
Gormley:
Ta, love.
Gormley
picks up his beer and turns to follow Ted, but he bumps into Jake
Thatcher who has just come in.
Gormley:
Watch out.
Jake:
Eh? Oh, sorry lad.
Gormley:
I want a word
wi’ you, Jake Thatcher.
Jake:
Ay, I’ll just get me drink, and I’ll be with you in
a second.
Gormley:
You’ll be with us now.
Jake:
Eh? What?
Gormley:
I said, you’ll be with us now.
I
want a word with you, Jake Thatcher. Not a conversation,
a word.
Jake:
Ay, all right, all right. What is it?
Gormley:
It’s about your Sid.
Jake:
Ay, he’s a good lad, our Sid.
Gormley:
He’s to stay away from my lad Jim. You know what I
mean.
Jake:
Eh?
Gormley:
He’s to stay away from my lad Jim!
Jake:
I don’t …
Gormley:
He’s to stay away from our Jim! We know all about
your Sidney,
with his fancy
airs and graces.
Jake:
He’s a brainy
lad, our Sid. Knows all about Art and that sort of
thing.
Mind, I don’t know nowt about it at all.
Wouldn’t do
for me, that sort of thing. I haven’t got the
brains, you
see.
Gormley:
It won’t do for our Jim either.
Jake:
I thought he was a bright lad, your Jim.
Gormley:
He’s
having nothing more to do with that sodding Sidney of yours. Brains
have nothing to do with it. We all
know what your
Sid’s after.
Jake:
Eh?
Gormley:
I said, we all
know what your Sid’s after – and I’m not
having our
Jim mixed up in it. Going round corrupting young boys like
that!
He should be put away!
Jake:
Don’t you...
Gormley:
If he lays one finger on our Jim, just one finger, I’ll do
him.
Jake:
Are
you calling our Sid a …?
Gormley:
A poof! A fairy! A queer!
Jake:
That’s it! I’ve had just about enough
from you, Albert Gormley!
Jake
makes as if
to strike Gormley. Gormley seizes Jake’s
arm and
twists it behind him, holding him in a half-nelson.
Gormley:
Violence will get you nowhere, Jake.
Jake:
Gerroff! … Lemme go! … I’ll have the
law on you.
Gormley:
You’ll
have the law on me?
That’s good, innit?
Chorus
of “Yeah”s from
some of the
drinkers.
Jake:
I’m an old man! It’s me heart!
Ohhh!
Ted:
Fling him out, Albert. We don’t want any of them
in here.
Noises of assent from the drinkers.
Gormley:
Right: Out, you!
Gormley
propels
Jake to the door still holding him in a half-nelson. Some of
the
drinkers, especially three younger men at the bar, cheer Gormley on and
jeer at Jake, others turn away, pretending not to see what is happening
or disassociating themselves from it. Gormley pushes Jake
through
the door with a blow from his knee in Jake’s bottom, which
provokes more mirth from the young men at the bar. Gormley
returns, dusting his hands in a heroic and self-satisfied manner.
Gormley:
That’s that.
Ted:
That showed him.
Alice:
What did he ever do to you?
Gormley:
Now don’t you
start, Alice.
Ted:
We don’t want his sort in here.
Alice:
But what did he do?
Gormley:
What did he do? What did he do? – I don’t
like to say in front of you, Alice.
Alice:
No, but what?
Gormley:
It’s his son.
Alice:
What about him?
Ted:
He’s after Albert’s lad.
Alice:
Beating him up, you mean?
Ted:
No, he’s after
him.
Alice:
Ooh! You mean he’s one of those?
Gormley:
He’s a bloody queer!
Alice:
Language, Mr Gormley!
