ACT TWO: MUSIC IN THE SUN
It is many hours later. The room is darker, seemingly lit only by a few lamps, candles and the glow from the stove. The wind is howling outside as a storm lashes the coast. The card game is in progress. RICHARD sits in his armchair which has been pulled nearer to the centre of the room, closer to the table. He has a big box of chocolates nearby and munches one from time to time. To his left sits IVAN, who is at the edge of the table where he can play but also turn easily away from the others to consult strategy with RICHARD. SHARKY sits to IVANās left and NICKY sits to SHARKYās left. LOCKHART sits at the far end of the table. They are coming to the end of a round of heavy betting. The biggest piles of money are in front of IVAN and LOCKHART. A lot of drink has been consumed; bottles, cans and empty plates are strewn around. IVANās intoxication is constant, he coasts along, veering neither up into euphoria nor down into depression. It is his efficient life-state, removed, yet heavily present. NICKY, on the other hand, is a euphoric drunk. His genuine love for friends and comrades is freed. While he plays cards he wears wraparound mirror shades like a poker pro. When not playing he sits them on his head. RICHARD, as we have seen, can lurch from sentimentality to vicious insults within seconds. But while all inhibitions may be gone, he remains alert, quick-witted and deeply interested in what goes on around him. LOCKHART is a philosophical drunk, yet prone to deeper maudlin feelings. SHARKY has thus far managed to remain soberā¦
IVAN. Nickyā¦
NICKY. Iām thinking. Iām thinking.
RICHARD. I know. I can hear your brain crunching in your head from over here.
NICKY. Yeah, well, donāt be rushing me. What is it again?
RICHARD. Mr Lockhart raised it twenty. Weāre in. Sharkyās bailed.
IVAN. You have to put in forty.
NICKY (takes a long sharp inhalation and thinks). Yeah, well, youāre bluffing ācause I saw Richard telling youā¦
RICHARD. Would you go on out of that!
NICKY. Mr Lockhart is being cautious, he raised it twenty, but heās on a roll anyway so heās battering us from a position of strength. (To IVAN.) You have nothing.
IVAN (ironically). Thatās right.
NICKY. You have nothing! So stop with theā¦ If you didnāt have that pile in front of you, Iād have your guts for garters.
RICHARD. Why, what have we got?
NICKY. Youāve about two hundred and fifty fucking euros in front of you there, Dick.
RICHARD. Yo ho! Santyās come early!
IVAN (playing down their success). Weāre doing alright. Weāre doing nicely.
NICKY. And half of that is mine. (With sudden confidence.) You have fuck-all there, Ivan.
IVAN. Well, why donāt you make sure?
NICKY. Mr Lockhart has two pair or something.
RICHARD. Well, come on then!
NICKY. I am! (Seeing and raising.) Hereās your forty. And twenty now to show yous a statement of intent.
RICHARD. Oh hoā¦
NICKY. Now, that shook yous.
IVAN. Mr Lockhart?
LOCKHART. Iāll stick around.
He sees NICKYās twenty.
IVAN. And weāll have a look.
He sees it too. Pause. NICKYās courage seems to wane.
NICKY (to IVAN). What do you have?
IVAN (to NICKY). What do you have?
RICHARD. What do we have?
IVAN (to NICKY). What do you have?
NICKY (to LOCKHART). What do you have?
LOCKHART. Threes.
NICKY. Threes of what?
LOCKHART (shows his hand). Three nines.
NICKY. Three nines! You stuck it out with three nines?!
LOCKHART. I enjoy playing. Isnāt it worth a go?
NICKY bursts out laughing.
RICHARD. What have you got, Nicky?
NICKY. Christmas present. Full house. (Shows his hand.) Fives and kings.
IVAN (showing his hand). Kings and sevens.
NICKY. Bollocks!
RICHARD whoops.
Ah, thatās fuckingā¦
LOCKHART. Hard luck, Nickyā¦
NICKY (to LOCKHART). What were you doing driving the pot up the wazoo with three nines?! These lads are cleaning me out here!
RICHARD. Ah, Nickyā¦
NICKY. Look at me! Iām like Sharky here. Iāve about thirty-five euros to me name. This is to do me all through January.
NICKY gets up and walks over to the stove, restlessly.
IVAN (counting his winnings). Well, Sharky had the right idea. He bailed. He knew.
RICHARD. He has no money!
IVAN. Do you want a stout, Rich?
RICHARD. Sure! Hey! You know what I have in there of course, beside the boiler? Thereās a drop of Brigid Blakeās famous Antrim poitĆn in there.
IVAN. Oh ho!
RICHARD. Do you ever take a drop, Mr Lockhart?
IVAN heads towards the kitchen.
LOCKHART. I will! Why not? Sure I might as well be shit-faced as the way I am!
IVAN (on his way into the kitchen). Yo ho!
RICHARD. Good man!
NICKY. Yeah, well, leave me out of itā¦ Grab us a Miller there, Ivan, would you?
IVAN (off). Yeah!
NICKY. Ah, wellā¦ itās only a game. Itās only money, that right, Rich?
RICHARD. Yeahā¦ Your money!
NICKY sighs heavily, looking to LOCKHART in a silent appeal for understanding.
NICKY. So, Sharky! Youāre back! (Drunkenly placing a hand on SHARKYās shoulder.) Weāve missed you! Dāyou know that?
He turns to LOCKHART, pointing at SHARKY meaninglessly then turns back to SHARKY.
RICHARD (insincerely). Yeahā¦ weāve all missed youā¦
NICKY. So tell us! Whereās this you were working?
SHARKY. Ah, down in Lahinch, County Clare.
NICKY. On the trawlers?
SHARKY. No.
NICKY (surprised). No?
SHARKY. No, I was ehā¦ (Glancing at LOCKHART, who is smiling at him broadly.) I was doing a bit of driving for a fella down there.
NICKY. Lahinch? Was I reading somewhere or where was it? That Lahinch is the gay pick-up capital of Europe?
SHARKY. What?
NICKY. So I believeā¦
IVAN returns with a whiskey bottle full of clear liquid.
SHARKY. Noā¦
RICHARD. Ah, Nicky, Lahinch is only a small town, how could it possibly be the gay capital of Europe?
NICKY. Well, I donāt know...