Conor McPherson Plays: Two (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Conor McPherson

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 269

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

The second collection of plays from the multi-award winning author. Featuring: The Weir A magical, compelling play set in present day Dublin on Christmas Eve. Undertaker John Plunkett is sharing memories of funerals over the years and dispensing advice to his young assistant. But the arrival of his daughter Mary - estranged, grown-up - shows him the time has come to face up to his own disastrous past. Otherwise, he will never be able to create some kind of truce with his fear of the future. Dublin Carol The spellbinding, beautifully observed hit from the master of suspenseful realism; combining superbly chilling tales of the supernatural with the hilarious banter of a small community in the heart of rural Ireland.Olivier Award for Best New Play Evening Standard Award for Best New Playwright Critic's Circle Award for Most Promising New Playwright Port Authority A wry, moving, funny tale of how modern man faces up to the responsibility of love, woven in monologues. Come On Over A short play about a Jesuit priest, sent to investigate a 'miracle' in his home town, who re-encounters the woman who loved him thirty years before. The collection also features an Afterword and in-depth interview with the author. 'already heir to the great Irish tradition of absorbing tale-telling' - Guardian 'The finest dramatist of his generation' - Telegraph

Leseprobe

Conor McPherson

PLAYS: TWO

The Weir

Dublin Carol

Port Authority

Come On Over

with an Afterword by the Author

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

The Weir

Dublin Carol

Port Authority

Come On Over

Afterword

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

For the actors

THE WEIR

The Weir was first performed at the Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, West Street, London, on 4 July 1997. The cast was as follows:

JIM

Kieran Ahern

BRENDAN

Brendan Coyle

VALERIE

Julia Ford

FINBAR

Gerard Horan

JACK

Jim Norton

Director

Ian Rickson

Designer

Rae Smith

Lighting Designer

Paule Constable

Music

Stephen Warbeck

The production transferred to the Royal Court Theatre Downstairs, St Martin’s Lane, London, on 18 February 1998 where it played for two years with successive cast changes.

The Weir was revived at the Donmar Warehouse, London, on 25 April 2013 (previews from 18 April), with the following cast:

FINBAR

Risteárd Cooper

JACK

Brian Cox

VALERIE

Dervla Kirwan

BRENDAN

Peter McDonald

JIM

Ardal O’Hanlon

Director

Josie Rourke

Designer

Tom Scutt

Lighting Designer

Neil Austin

Sound Designer

Ian Dickinson

Casting Director

Alastair Coomer CDG

Characters

JACK, fifties

BRENDAN, thirties

JIM, forties

FINBAR, late forties

VALERIE, thirties

The play is set in a rural part of Ireland, Northwest Leitrim or Sligo. Present day. Stage setting: a small rural bar.

A counter, left, with three bar taps. The spirits are not mounted, simply left on the shelf. There are three stools at the counter.

There is a fireplace, right. There is a stove built into it. Near this is a low table with some small stools and a bigger, more comfortable chair, nearest the fire. There is another small table, front, with a stool or two.

On the wall, back, are some old black and white photographs: a ruined abbey; people posing near a newly erected ESB weir; a town in a cove with mountains around it.

An old television is mounted up in a corner. There is a small radio on a shelf behind the bar.

A door, right, is the main entrance to the bar. A door, back, leads to the toilets and a yard.

This bar is part of a house and the house is part of a farm.

The door, right, opens. JACK comes in. He wears a suit which looks a bit big for him, and a white shirt open at the collar. Over this is a dirty anorak. He takes the anorak off and hangs it up. He wipes his boots aggressively on a mat.

He goes behind the counter. He selects a glass and goes to pour himself a pint of stout. Nothing comes out of the tap. He vainly tries it again and looks underneath the counter. He turns and takes a bottle from the shelf, awkwardly prising off the top. He pours it and leaves it on the bar to settle. He turns to the till which he opens with practised, if uncertain, ease. He takes a list of prices from beside the till and holds a pair of spectacles up to his face while he examines it. He puts money in the till and takes his change.

As he finishes this, the door at back opens. BRENDAN comes in. He wears a sweater, heavy cord pants and a pair of slip-on shoes. He carries a bucket with peat briquettes. He goes to the fireplace, barely acknowledging JACK, just his voice.

BRENDAN. Jack.

JACK. Brendan. (Lifting glass.) What’s with the Guinness?

BRENDAN (putting peat in the stove). I don’t know. It’s the power in the tap. It’s a new barrel and everything.

JACK. Is the Harp one okay?

BRENDAN. Yeah.

JACK. Well, would you not switch them around and let a man have a pint of stout, no?

BRENDAN. What about the Harp drinkers?

JACK (derision). ‘The Harp drinkers.’

BRENDAN. Your man’s coming in to do it in the morning. Have a bottle.

JACK. I’m having a bottle. (Pause.) I’m not happy about it, now mind, right? But, like.

They laugh.

BRENDAN. Go on out of that.

JACK (drinks). What the hell. Good for the worms.

BRENDAN. I’d say you have a right couple of worms, alright.

They laugh. Pause. BRENDAN stands wiping his hands.

That’s some wind, isn’t it?

JACK. It is.

BRENDAN. Must have been against you, was it?

JACK comes out from behind the counter.

JACK. It was. It was against me ’til I came around the Knock. It was a bit of shelter then.

BRENDAN goes in behind the counter. He tidies up, dries glasses.

BRENDAN. Yeah it’s a funny one. It’s coming from the North.

JACK. Mm. Ah, it’s mild enough though.

BRENDAN. Ah yeah. It’s balmy enough. (Pause.) It’s balmy enough.

JACK. Were you in Carrick today?

BRENDAN. I wasn’t, no. I had the sisters over doing their rounds. Checking up on me.

JACK. Checking their investments.

BRENDAN. Oh yeah. ’Course, they don’t have a fucking clue what they’re looking for, d’you know? They’re just vaguely . . . you know.

JACK. Keeping the pressure on you.

BRENDAN. This is it. (Pause.) At me to sell the top field.

JACK. You don’t use it much.

BRENDAN. No. No I don’t. Too much trouble driving a herd up. But I know they’re looking at it, all they see is new cars for the hubbies, you know?

JACK. Mm. You’re not just trying to spite them? Get them vexed, ha?

BRENDAN. Not at all. I’m, just. It’s a grand spot up there. Ah, I don’t know. Just . . .

Short pause.

JACK. They over the whole day?

BRENDAN. They got here about two. They’d gone for lunch in the Arms. Got their story straight. Ah they were gone and all about half four.

JACK. They’ve no attachment to the place, no?

BRENDAN. No they don’t. They look around, and it’s . . . ‘Ah yeah . . . ’ you know?

They laugh a little.

It’s gas.

JACK. Mm.

BRENDAN. Were you in Carrick yourself?

JACK. I was. Flew in about eleven, threw on a fast bet. Jimmy was there, we went for a quick one in the Pot.

BRENDAN. How is he? And the ma?

JACK. Ah. Jimmy. Be in tonight. He put me on to a nice one. We got her at eleven to four.

BRENDAN. You’re learning to listen, ha?

JACK. Ah. Fuck that sure. I know, but I’ve been having the worst run of shit you wouldn’t believe. I was that desperate, I’d listen to anybody.

BRENDAN. Go on out of that.

JACK. Ah no. No no. Fair dues. I’ll say it. He got us a right one. And it’s good, you know. Break a streak like that.

BRENDAN. You’re a user.

JACK (laughs). There’s worse.

BRENDAN. Yeah. There might be.

JACK. But, ah, he was telling me. Did you know about Maura Nealon’s house?

BRENDAN. No.

JACK. Well. Jim says he met Finbar Mack down in the Spar. Finally, either sold or’s renting the, the thing, after how many years it’s sat there?

BRENDAN. Jays, four or five in anyway.

JACK. Jim says five this month. And Finbar’s going bananas with the great fella that he is. Patting himself on the back, goodo, and talking about the new resident. Who, he says, is a fine girl. Single. Down from Dublin and all this. And Finbar’s nearly leaving the wife just to have a chance with this one. Only messing, like. But he’s bringing her in here tonight, the nearest place. To old . . . Maura’s. Bringing her in for a drink. Introduce her to the natives.

BRENDAN. The dirty bastard. I don’t want him using in here for that sort of carry on. A married man like him.

JACK. Ah he’s only old shit. He wouldn’t have the nerve. Sure, how far’d he get anyway? The fucking head on him. He’s only having a little thrill. Bringing her around. And I’ll tell you what it is as well. He’s coming in here with her. And he’s the one. He’s the one that’s ‘with’ her, in whatever fucking . . . sense we’re talking about. He’s bringing her in. And there’s you and me, and the Jimmy fella, the muggins’s, the single fellas. And he’s the married fella. And he’s going ‘Look at this! There’s obviously something the fuck wrong with yous. Yous are single and you couldn’t get a woman near this place. And look at me. I’m hitched. I’m over and done with, and I’m having to beat them off.’

BRENDAN. Yeah. That’s the way cunts always go about their business. It’s intrusive, it’s bad manners, it’s . . .

JACK. Ah, it’s a juvenile carry on. You know?

BRENDAN. Mm.

JACK. Let her come in herself.

BRENDAN. Yeah. That’d be better. That’d make more sense, for fuck’s sake.

JACK. Leave her be. Don’t know if I’ll stay actually.

BRENDAN. Mm.

Pause. JACK drains his glass and puts it on the bar.

JACK. Go on.

BRENDAN takes the glass and pours a fresh bottle.

Don’t want to leave Jimmy in the lurch. You know? Trying to hold his own in the Finbar Mack world of big business.

They laugh a little.

BRENDAN. Fucking . . . Jimmy talking all that crack with Finbar.

JACK. That’s the thing though. The Jimmy fella’s got more going on up here (Head.) than popular opinion would give him credit for.

BRENDAN. Sure, don’t we know too well for God’s sake?

JACK. I know.

BRENDAN. We know only too well.

JACK counts change out on the bar.

JACK. Would you give us ten Silk Cut please, Brendan?

BRENDAN. Red?

JACK. Please.

BRENDAN puts the cigarettes on the bar.

Good man.

Pause. JACK doesn’t touch them yet. BRENDAN counts the money off the bar. JACK pauses before drinking.

Are we right?

BRENDAN. Close enough. Cheers.

JACK. Good luck.

JACK takes a long drink. Pause.

I know I do be at you. I’ll keep at you though.

BRENDAN. About what?

JACK. Don’t be messing. Come on.

BRENDAN. Ah.

JACK. A youngfella like you. And this place a right going concern.

BRENDAN. Ah. The odd time. You know, the odd time I’d think about it.

JACK. You should though.

BRENDAN. Well then, so should you.

JACK. Would you go on? An auldfella like me!

BRENDAN. Would you listen to him?

JACK. Sure what would I want giving up my freedom?

BRENDAN. Well then me as well!

Pause.

JACK. Tch. Maybe. Maybe there’s something to be said for the old independence.

BRENDAN. Ah there is.

Pause.

JACK. A lot to be said for it.

BRENDAN. Mm. (Pause.) Mm.

JACK. Cheers.

BRENDAN. Good luck.

JACK takes a long drink. The main door opens and JIM enters. He takes off an anorak to reveal a festive-looking cardigan. JACK pretends not to notice him.

JACK (winks). Oh yes, Brendan, the luck is changing. I got me and the Jimmy fella on to a nice one today. That fella’d want to listen to me a bit more often, I tell you.

JIM. I’m going to have to start charging you for tips, am I?

JACK. Ah James! What’ll you have?

JIM. Teach you some manners. Teach him some manners, Brendan, ha? Small one please, Jack.

BRENDAN. Small one.

JACK. Sure it’d take more than money to put manners on me, ha Brendan?

BRENDAN. It’d take a bomb under you.

JACK. Now you said it. Bomb is right. That wind still up, Jim?

JIM. Oh it is, yeah. Warm enough though.

JACK. We were just saying.

BRENDAN. For a Northerly.

JIM. Oh that’s from the West now.

BRENDAN. Is it?

JIM. Oh yeah that’s a Westerly.

JACK. Must’ve shifted.

JIM. Mm.

Pause. JIM comes to the bar.

Thanking you.

JACK. Good luck.

JIM. Good luck.

BRENDAN. Good luck.

JACK counts change out on the bar.

JACK. Are we right?

BRENDAN counts and pushes a coin back towards JACK.

BRENDAN (gathering coins). Now we are. Sure it’s hard enough to come by without giving it away.

JACK. This is it. Oh. (To JIM.) Are you doing anything tomorrow?

JIM. What time?

JACK. I have to get out to Conor Boland. His tractor’s packed up. And I have Father Donal’s jalopy in since Tuesday. Said I’d change the oil. Haven’t done it yet. Would you ever come in and do it so I can get over to Boland’s?

JIM. It’d have to be early. I’m dropping the mother out to Sligo.

JACK. Well, whatever. Is that alright?

JIM. Ah, it should be, yeah. Pint?

JACK. Not for the moment. You go on.

JIM. Pint please, Brendan. You on the bottles?

BRENDAN takes a glass and pours JIM a pint of lager from the good tap.

JACK. Ah. Medicinal.

JIM. Ha?

BRENDAN. Ah the tap’s fucked.

JIM. I was wondering, ‘Jaysus what’s your man fucking doing now’, you know?

BRENDAN. Yeah. He’d be the fella’d have a figary and be only drinking bottles from now on. He would. (To JACK.) You would. Be you to a fucking tee.

JACK sits as though he has to bear the world with great patience. They laugh. Pause. JACK shakes his head.

JACK. How’s the mammy today?

JIM. Ah, you know?

JACK. Tch. I have to get down and see her. I keep saying it.

JIM (tone of ‘No rush. No pressure’). Well whenever, whenever you want.

BRENDAN. Do you think you’ll do anything?

JIM. About?

BRENDAN. About up there on your own and all that?

JIM. Ah. Sure where would I go? And I was talking to Finbar Mack. Be lucky to get twenty thousand for the place. Sure where would you be going with that? (Short pause.) You know?

JACK. With the acre?

JIM. Ah yeah, the whole . . . the whole thing.

JACK. Ah you’re grand with the few little jobs around here.

JIM. Ah.

JACK. You’ll be cosy enough.

Pause.

BRENDAN. Jack was telling me about Finbar. And the new eh . . .

JIM. Mmm, yeah. I was telling him earlier.

JACK. I was telling him.

JIM. I’ve seen her since.

BRENDAN. Oh yeah?

JIM. Yeah, they were in Finbar’s car going up the Head.

JACK and BRENDAN exchange a look.

BRENDAN. Fucking hell.

JACK. Like a courting couple or something.

JIM. He’s showing her the area.

JACK. Jesus. ‘The area.’ He’s a terrible fucking thick. What the fuck, is he, doing? You know?

JIM. Ah. She’s . . . This is the only place near to her.

JACK. She can . . . (Nodding.) find her own way surely, Jim, come on.

BRENDAN. Well it’s, you know. If it’s courtesy, which is one thing, and a business . . . act or whatever, you know, you have to say, well okay and . . . But if it’s all messy, I’m trapped in here behind this fucking thing. And you wish he’d stop acting the mess. I have to respect whatever, they’re . . .

JACK. Well this is it, we’re here.

JIM. It’s probably not really anything.

Short pause.

JACK. What age would she be, about, Jim?

JIM. Em. I only saw her for a sec. I’d say, (Beat.) like they were in the car and all. I’d say about thirties. Very nice looking.

Pause.

JACK. Dublin woman.

JIM. Dublin.

Short pause.

BRENDAN. She’s no one in the area, no?

JIM. No she’s . . . coming down, you know?

JACK. Mm. (Pause.) Yeah.

JIM. Good luck. (Drinks.)

JACK. Cheers. (Drinks.)

BRENDAN. Good luck, boys.

JACK. Another week or two now, you’ll be seeing the first of the Germans.

BRENDAN. Mm. Stretch in the evening, yeah.

JACK. You still wouldn’t think about clearing one of the fields for a few caravans.

BRENDAN. Ah.

JACK. The top field.

BRENDAN. Ah there wouldn’t be a lot of shelter up there, Jack. There’d be a wind up there that’d cut you.

JIM. D’you know what you could do? The herd’d be grand up there, and you could, you know, down here.

BRENDAN. Ah. (Short pause.) They do be around anyway. You know yourself.

JIM. Ah, they do.

JACK. You’re not chasing the extra revenue.

BRENDAN. Or the work!

JIM. They do be around right enough.

BRENDAN. I’ll leave the campsites to Finbar, ha? He’ll sort them out.

JACK. Ah, Finbar’s in real need of a few shekels.

They laugh.

BRENDAN. Ah he’s in dire need of a few bob, the poor fella, that’s right, that’s right.

JACK. Mm.

Pause.

BRENDAN. Yeah. If you had all . . . the families out there. On their holliers. And all the kids and all. You’d feel the evenings turning. When they’d be leaving. And whatever about how quiet it is now. It’d be fucking shocking quiet then. (Short pause.) You know?

Pause.

JACK. Mm.

JIM. D’you want a small one, Jack?

JACK. Go on.

JIM. Two small ones please, Brendan.

BRENDAN. The small fellas.

BRENDAN works. JIM counts some change on to the bar.

JACK. Are you having one yourself?

BRENDAN. I’m debating whether to have one.

JACK. Ah have one and don’t be acting the mess.

BRENDAN. Go on then.

BRENDAN pours himself a glass of whiskey.

JACK. Good man. (Counts change on to the bar.) A few shekels, ha? (They smile.) Mm.

JACK takes out his cigarettes.

Jim?

JIM. Oh cheers Jack.

JIM takes one.

JACK. Brendan?

BRENDAN. Fags and all, ha?

JACK. Go on. They’re good for you.

BRENDAN (taking one). Go on.

They light up from a match which JACK strikes. They puff contentedly for a moment.

JIM (lifting glass). Keep the chill out.

JACK. This is it. Cheers.

BRENDAN. Cheers men.

JIM. Good luck.

They drink.

JACK. Now.

JIM. D’yous hear a car?

Pause.

BRENDAN. No.

JIM. That’s Finbar’s car.

Pause.

He’s parked.

JACK. I didn’t see the lights.

JIM. He came around the Knock.

From off they hear FINBAR’s voice.

FINBAR (off). Ah yeah, sure half the townland used to nearly live in here.

JACK. There we are now.

The door opens and FINBAR brings VALERIE in.

FINBAR. That’s it now.

FINBAR wears a light cream coloured suit and an open collar. VALERIE wears jeans and a sweater. She carries a jacket.

Men. This is Valerie. She’s just moved into Maura Nealon’s old house.

JACK. Hello, how are you?

JACK shakes her hand.

VALERIE. Hello.

FINBAR. This is Jack Mullen. He has a little garage up around the Knock.

JACK nods politely.

JACK. Now.

FINBAR. This is Jim Curran. Does a bit of work with Jack.

VALERIE shakes hands with JIM.

VALERIE. Pleased to meet you.

JIM. Pleased to meet you.

FINBAR. And this Brendan. Brendan Byrne.

VALERIE. Hello.

They shake hands.

BRENDAN. How are you?

FINBAR. This is his bar. And all the land I showed you. All back down the hill. That’s all his farm.

VALERIE. Oh right. It’s all lovely here.

BRENDAN. Oh yeah. It’s a grand spot all along . . . for going for a walk or that, all down the cliffs.

FINBAR. Oh it’s lovely all around here. What’ll you have?

BRENDAN. Oh, I’ll get this, Finbar. No. What, what do you want?

FINBAR. Oh now, ha ha. Eh, I’ll have a pint then, what?, says you, if it’s going, ha? Eh Harp please Brendan.

JACK looks at FINBAR. FINBAR nods at him.

Jack.

JACK. Finbar.

BRENDAN. What would you like, Valerie?

VALERIE. Em. Could I have . . . Do you have . . . em, a glass of white wine?

Pause.

BRENDAN (going). Yeah. I’m just going to run in the house.

VALERIE. Oh no. Don’t. Don’t put yourself to any trouble.

BRENDAN. No. No it’s no trouble. I have a bottle.

BRENDAN goes.

FINBAR. He probably has a bottle of the old vino, from feckin . . . Christmas, ha?

JACK. It’s not too often the . . . the . . . wine does be flowing in here.

VALERIE. I’m all embarrassed now.

FINBAR. Don’t be silly. Sit up there now, and don’t mind us. Don’t mind these country fellas.

JACK. Jays. You’re not long out of it yourself, says the man, ha?

FINBAR (winks). They’re only jealous Valerie because I went the town to seek my fortune. And they all stayed out here on the bog picking their holes.

JACK. Janey, now, ha? You didn’t have very far to seek. Just a quick look in Big Finbar’s will, I think is more like it.

FINBAR. Big Finbar’s will! That’s shrewd investment, boy. That’s an eye for the gap.

JACK. Yeah, he probably fleeced you on Maura Nealon’s house, did he?

VALERIE. I have to say I don’t think so.

FINBAR. Good girl.

VALERIE. But it’s very reasonable all around here, isn’t it?

FINBAR. Oh it is, yeah. You know . . .

Short pause.

JACK. Is there much doing up on it?

FINBAR. Ah, hardly any.

VALERIE (checking with FINBAR). There’s one or two floor-boards. Bit of paint.

JACK (indicating JIM). Well, there’s your man. If you’re looking for a good pair of hands.

VALERIE. Is that right?

JIM. I’ll have a look for you, if you like. I know that house.

FINBAR. Don’t be charging her through the nose now.

JIM. Ah ha, now.

BRENDAN returns with a bottle of wine.

FINBAR. You’d want to be giving her a neighbourly . . . rate, now, is the thing, ha?

JIM. Oh yeah.

JACK. Would you listen to him? ‘Neighbourly rates . . . ’ Wasn’t by giving neighbourly rates you bought half the fucking town.

FINBAR. Half the town! (To VALERIE, winking.) I bought the whole town. Eye for the gap, you see.

JACK. Eye for your gap is right.

FINBAR (to BRENDAN). How long has that been in there? Lying in some drawer . . .

BRENDAN (corkscrewing the bottle). Ah, it was a . . . present or some . . . (Looks at label.) 1990. Now. Vintage, ha?

They laugh.

I hope it’s alright now.

VALERIE. It’s grand. I won’t know the difference.

They watch BRENDAN open the bottle. He pours a tumbler-full, then holds it up to the light, then sniffs it.

BRENDAN. I think it’s alright.

FINBAR. Ah would you give the woman the feckin’ thing. The tongue’s hanging out of her.

Again they watch as VALERIE takes the glass.

VALERIE. Thanks Brendan.

They watch her drink.

That’s gorgeous. I’m not joking now. That’s lovely.

FINBAR. Good.

BRENDAN. I’m putting it in the fridge for you, Valerie. (He does.)

Pause. FINBAR nods at VALERIE, a reassuring ‘Hello’.

FINBAR (to JACK and JIM). How d’yous do today, boys?

JACK. Are you codding me? With this fella? Eleven to four we got her at. Came down to six to four.

FINBAR. Sheer Delight, was it?

JACK. Yeah. Kenny down in the shop, the knacker. Adjusting everything how this fella’s betting.

BRENDAN. Look who’s talking.

JACK. Yeah right.

JIM. He hardly ever listens to me.

JACK. Well. Now . . .

FINBAR. He’s too proud, Jimmy. Too proud to admit when he needs a tip off you.

JACK (emphatically). I . . . have . . . my policy on this. And I have my principle. I am the first one to say it about this fella. See, usually, Valerie, usually, not all the time, Jim’s not too far off the mark.

FINBAR. ‘Too far off the mark!’ (To VALERIE.) He’s bang on the nail.

BRENDAN places a pint on the bar.

Thanks Brendan. (He puts his hand in his pocket.)

JACK. Not every time. Jim.

BRENDAN waves FINBAR away.

FINBAR. Thanks, thanks a million. (To VALERIE.) He is.

JACK. Bang on the nail is one thing, from judgement . . . and . . . But, and Jimmy knows I don’t mean anything by this, and I know because we’ve spoken about this before. He has a scientific approach. He studies the form. And, no offence, he has a bit of time to be doing that. He studies it Valerie, and fair play to him, right? Do you bet on horses?

VALERIE. No.

FINBAR. Good girl.

JACK. Well he, how much, Jim, would you make in a month? On the horses.

JIM. Ah it evens out Jack. Like I’m not eh . . . I don’t . . .

JACK. How much was it you got that time? When Cheltenham was on that time.

JIM. Two hundred and twenty.

JACK. Two hundred and twenty pounds, Valerie, in like three days, now. Right?

JIM. Yeah but . . .

JACK. Yeah, I know, that’d be a bigger win. But he was planning for Cheltenham for weeks, Valerie, and . . . tinkering with his figures and his . . . you know. He’d be in here with the paper up on the counter there. Brendan? Before Cheltenham?

BRENDAN. Yeah.

JACK. Right? Now, but I’m more: Ah, sure, I’ll have an old bet, like. Do you know that way? And that’s what I do, and to tell you the truth I don’t be too bothered. It’s a bit of fun and that’s what it should be. And so . . . I’m not going to listen to ‘Do this and do that, and you’ll be right.’ Just to get a few bob. There’s no fun in that and the principle of it, you know?

FINBAR. Ah, the principle of the thing is to win a few quid and don’t be giving out.

JACK. Who’s giving out? I’m not giving out. All I’m saying is that the way I go at it, the principle’s not, the science. It’s the luck, it’s the something that’s not the facts and figures of it.

FINBAR. Jaysus. And do you and Kenny get down on your knees and lash a few quick Hail Marys out before he stamps your docket or something?

JACK. Ah it’s not like that. I’m not talking about that. For fuck’s sake.

FINBAR. Anyway, what the hell are you talking about? You took Jimmy’s tip today, and you won so what the hell are you talking about? (To others.) Ha?

JACK. Ah yeah but . . . now listen because . . .

The others are laughing, going ‘ah’ as though FINBAR has caught JACK out.

I’ll tell yous. If you won’t listen . . . Right? I don’t have a system. And I do. I do lose a few bob every now and then. Right? So I take a little tip from Jim. And then that’ll finance having a couple of bets over the next few weeks.

They laugh.

And I’ve been known to have one or two wins myself, as well yous know and don’t forget. I have one or two.

BRENDAN. You do not. Go on out of that you chancer.

JACK. I do.

FINBAR. I’d say the last win you had was fucking Red Rum or someone.

JACK (aside to VALERIE). We do be only messing like this.

FINBAR. What would anyone like? Jim?

JIM. Eh, small one then, thanks, Finbar.

FINBAR. Jack? Small one? Pint? Bottle, is it? You on the bottles?

JACK. No the tap is . . . fucking . . .

FINBAR. Oh. Typical.

JACK. Ah, I’ll have a small one, go on.

FINBAR. Good man. Valerie?

VALERIE. Oh no, I’m okay for the moment, thanks.

FINBAR. Are you sure? Top that up?

VALERIE. No I’m fine, honestly.

FINBAR. You’re sure now?

VALERIE. No really, I’m fine.

FINBAR (hands up). Fair enough. We won’t force you. Give us . . . eh, three small ones, Brendan. Good man. Here, are you having one?

BRENDAN (working). I’m debating whether to have one.

JACK. Ah, he’ll have one. Go on Brendan. Who knows when the hell you’ll see another drink off the Finbar fella, ha? Come on! Quick! He’s all annoyed you’re having one.

FINBAR (to VALERIE). Would you listen to him?

JACK. That fella’d peel a banana in his pocket.

JIM. Is that what it is?

They laugh.

FINBAR. First time I’ve been in here for ages, bringing nice company in and everything, getting this. Oh you’d have to watch the Jimmy fella. There’s more going on there than he lets on. ‘Is that what that is?’

BRENDAN places the drinks on the bar.

And look at this! Me buying the drinks like a feckin eejit. Ah it’s not right. What do you think Valerie?

VALERIE. Oh it’s terrible.

FINBAR. Oh, it’s desperate. (He hands BRENDAN a twenty pound note.) There you go, Brendan. I wouldn’t say you see too many twenties in here. With the boys, wouldn’t be too often, I’d say. Cheers boys.

JACK (to BRENDAN). Check that. Cheers.

JIM. Good luck.

BRENDAN. Good luck now.

VALERIE. Cheers.

JACK. How did you put up with that fella showing you around?

VALERIE. Ah, he was a bit quieter today.

JACK. Well. You’re seeing the real him now. And I bet you prefer the other one. We’ve never seen it. The quiet Finbar. This one comes out at night, you see.

VALERIE. Oh, well I was getting the history of the place and everything today.

JACK. ‘The history of the place.’ You were probably making it all up on the spot, were you?

FINBAR. Yeah, I was, yeah. That’s why all them photographs are fake. I had them done years ago just to fool Valerie, tonight.

VALERIE (going to the photographs). Oh right. That’s all around here, is it?

FINBAR (going to the photographs). That’s the weir. When was that taken, Brendan?

BRENDAN. Eh, that’s 1951.

FINBAR. 1951. The weir, the river, the weir em is to regulate the water for generating power for the area and for Carrick as well. (To BRENDAN.) That’s your dad there.

BRENDAN. Yeah. I think your dad’s in it too.

FINBAR. Oh he is! Valerie, look at this. That’s Big Finbar now. And that’s Brendan’s father, Paddy Byrne. This was when the ESB opened it. Big thing around here, Brendan.

BRENDAN. Oh yeah.

VALERIE (to FINBAR). You look like your father. (To BRENDAN.) You don’t.

FINBAR. He’s like his mother. He’s like the Mangans. Now . . . Who would you say that is there. In the shorts.

VALERIE. Is it you?

FINBAR. Would you go on? The big fucking head on that yoke! Excuse the language. That’s Jack.

VALERIE. Oh my God! How old were you there, Jack?

JACK. Em. Oh I was about seven.

VALERIE. I wouldn’t have said that was you.

FINBAR. You must be joking, you’d spot that big mutton head anywhere. The photographer nearly had to ask him to go home, there wasn’t going to be room in the picture. Isn’t that right Jack?

JACK. That’s right, and your dad nearly climbing into the camera there.

FINBAR. He was a pillar of the community, Valerie. No one had anything against him. Except headers like your man there. (Indicating JACK.)

JACK. That’s right, Finbar. And I’m just going in here to do something up against the pillar of the community now.

JACK goes out door at back.

FINBAR. Jays, he’s a desperate fella, that one.

VALERIE. Where was this taken?

BRENDAN. That’s the view of Carrick from our top field up there.

VALERIE. It’s an amazing view.

FINBAR. Oh I’d say that’s probably one of the best views all around here, wouldn’t it be?

BRENDAN. Oh yeah I’d say so.

JIM. Oh yeah, it would be, yeah.

FINBAR. You get all the Germans trekking up here in the summer, Valerie. Up from the campsite.

VALERIE. Right.

FINBAR. They do come up. This’d be the scenic part of all around here, you know? Em. There’s what’s? There was stories all, the fairies be up there in that field. Isn’t there a fort up there?

BRENDAN. There’s a kind of a one.

VALERIE. A fairy fort?

FINBAR. The Germans do love all this.

BRENDAN. Well there’s a . . . ring of trees, you know.

FINBAR. What’s the story about the fairy road that . . . Who used to tell it?

BRENDAN. Ah, Jack’d tell you all them stories.

FINBAR. There’s all this around here, Valerie, the area’s steeped in old folklore, and that, you know.

BRENDAN. Jack’d know . . . the what the, you’d know a few, Jim.

JIM. Ah Jack’d tell you better than me.

FINBAR (at photograph). That’s the abbey now.

VALERIE. Oh yeah.

FINBAR. You can see more of it there now. What was there, Brendan? When was that?

BRENDAN. Oh, back in oh, fifteen something, there was a synod of bishops all came and met there for . . . like . . . eh.

JIM. This townland used to be quite important back a few hundred years ago, Valerie. This was like the capital of the, the county, it would have been.

VALERIE. Right.

JACK comes back in.

FINBAR. Oh it’s a very interesting place all, eh, Jack we were just saying about the, what was the story with the fairy road?

JACK. The fairy road? I go into the toilet for two minutes. I can’t leave yous alone for two minutes . . .

They laugh.

FINBAR. Ah I was telling Valerie about the fort and everything. What was the story with the fairy road? Where was it?

Short pause.

JACK. Are you really interested? All the babies.

FINBAR. Ah it’s a bit of fun. Tell her. Where was it?

JACK (to FINBAR). You’re going to regret me saying this now, ’cause you know whose house it was?

FINBAR. Whose?

JACK. It was Maura Nealon’s house.

FINBAR (self-chastising, remembering). Oh . . . Jesus.

They laugh.

JACK. You see? That’s as much cop as you have now.

FINBAR. I fucking forgot it was Maura.

JACK. These are only old stories, Valerie.

VALERIE. No. I’d like to hear it.

JACK. It’s only an old cod, like.