YOU, ME AND Wii
Sue Townsend
Characters
VINCENT, early twenties
SHEILA, mid-sixties
KERRY, thirty-five
COURTNEY, fourteen
SELINA, forties
MARK
A living room on a local-authority sink estate. An old ‘modern’ sofa and matching armchair. A large flat-screen television on the wall. A man in his early twenties, VINCENT, skiing on a Wii. A woman in her mid-sixties, SHEILA, is in an armchair feeding McKenzie, a baby girl. KERRY, thirty-five, is kneeling on the carpet ironing baby clothes. COURTNEY, fourteen, the baby’s mother, is on MSN Messenger on the computer. They are all wearing dressing gowns and slippers. It is three o’ clock in the afternoon.
COURTNEY. Mam, Lisa Lovett has just called me a slapper.
KERRY. Tell her you can’t be a slapper at fourteen; you have to be in your forties before somebody can call you a slapper.
COURTNEY. She says I’m too young to be a proper mother.
SHEILA. She’s right. Why is your mam on her hands and knees ironing your baby’s clothes?
COURTNEY. Because the ironing board’s broke.
VINCENT. You’re an idle cow, Courtney.
COURTNEY. No! I were helping Mam bath her this morning! She gave us this big smile, didn’t she, Mam? And she looked like a proper person, she did, didn’t she, Mam?
KERRY. Well…
COURTNEY. Since she’s been here, everything has changed. She’s made everything better since she was put on the earth.
KERRY. Alright, Courtney, McKenzie is lovely an’ that but she ain’t the New Messiah. She ain’t even a person.
COURTNEY. Do you know why we’re here, Nan?
SHEILA. No I don’t, Courtney, Google it.
KERRY. People are born, people die, and there’s this bit inbetween.
VINCENT (to everybody). I’ve just done a run in twenty point five!
SHEILA (disinterested). Right.
She puts McKenzie on her shoulder to wind her. She croons and rocks with the baby.
Come on, my little one. Bring your wind up for your nana.
The doorbell rings. Everybody tenses – visitors are not welcome. Doorbell rings again. They all look towards the front door.
(To KERRY.) It’s the loan bloke. We should never have took out that loan. He’s the only one what goes on that bloody Wii.
The letter box is rattled.
Go and look out the window, Courtney.
COURTNEY goes out to look. Everybody waits tensely for COURTNEY.
COURTNEY. There’s a woman and man at the doorstep. The woman’s covered in blood.
SHEILA holds the baby protectively and goes to the corner of the room.
SHEILA. Where there’s blood there’s trouble.
KERRY. Tell ’em to fuck off!
SELINA (off). Mrs Lamb, Selina Snow, your Member of Parliament. Can I come in?
The family don’t move or speak.
SHEILA. Let her in, Courtney.
Everybody does a quick tidy-up.
COURTNEY (off). Nana says to go in. She’s in the front room.
SELINA, in her forties, attractive, dressed in a cream suit which is spattered with blood. She is holding a bloodied tissue to her forehead. A young man from Millbank, MARK, has an arm around SELINA. He is speaking into his mobile. SELINA and MARK are wearing Labour Party rosettes.
SHEILA hands the baby to COURTNEY and takes the shocked SELINA to the armchair and gently forces her to sit down.
SHEILA. What the bloody hell happened to you?
SELINA. They hate me out there! They’re tearing my leaflets up in front of me!
MARK (into phone). Toby. We’ve got a Jackie O situation here. A troglodyte in a skiing hat has just lobbed a can of White Lightning at Selina’s head.
Pause.
Do we want photographs of Selina Snow with her nice Jaeger suit covered in blood on the six o’clock?
Pause.
He disconnects the phone.
(To SELINA.) They’re ringing back.
SELINA. It’s so unfair! I’ve done so much work...
