Superhoe

Nicôle Lecky

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2019
• Print ISBN: 9781848428386
• eBook ISBN: 9781788501385
• Topic: Letteratura
• Subtopic: Teatro britannico

The hit stage play behind the BAFTA-winning BBC TV drama series Mood.

'I'm a singer-slash-rapper. I'm not the sort of girl that will be working in fucking Wetherspoons for eight pounds an hour.'

Sasha Clayton is twenty-four and living with her mum, stepdad, and irritating little sister, in Plaistow, East London. She's gone from being the most popular girl at school, to spending most of her time on her own in her bedroom scrolling through social media.

She may not have a job or a flat, and, admittedly her boyfriend's not answering her calls – but she's got talent and a dream. When she releases her first EP everything's going to change.

Nicôle Lecky's play Superhoe was first staged in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs at the Royal Court Theatre, London, in January 2019, performed by its author and directed by Jade Lewis. It was the first collaboration between Talawa Theatre Company and the Royal Court.

The play was adapted by Nicôle Lecky into the six-part BBC television drama series Mood, first broadcast in March 2022. The series went on to win the award for Best Mini-Series at the 2023 BAFTA TV awards.

Scene One

SASHA enters the space. A microphone stand. She smiles and waves at the audience.

Thanks for coming. I wanna let you all know that my EP is dropping after this Live Lounge. Thank you to my manager, and my label for supporting me. Thanks to my man Anton, for always being there. And lastly thank you to you guys, for showing me bare love.

SASHA performs a track: ‘Picture Perfect’.

Stay,

I’m taking a selfie of us

Look in to the camera, don’t blush

We are flawless, we are

When we’re old

We’ll be reminded of the good times

When we’re old

We’ll see how dope we looked together

Picture perfect under the stars we are

Picture perfect, under the stars we are

[Suggested interruption by SASHA’s mum from page 6, or wherever feels appropriate.]

Stay, just like that

I’m close to falling in love

Over and over, again

I’ll never stop falling, I swear

When we’re old

We’ll be reminded of the good times

When we’re old

We’ll see how dope we looked together

Picture perfect under the stars we are

Picture perfect, under the stars we are

Offstage, SASHA’s mum calls her. SASHA reacts to this.

‘WHAT?! FOR FUCK SAKE! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!’

Beat.

‘I WAS RECORDING A SONG! YOU’VE FUCKING RUINED IT NOW!’

Beat.

‘FUCK DO YOU KNOW? YES I WAS ACTUALLY!’

Beat. Turns off laptop/music. She picks up and lights a half-smoked spliff from an ashtray.

Even though it’s not finished yet, I might send out a few tracks off my EP to a couple of music people. Maybe meet some artists that wanna collab on it, coz I’m not on doing any of that YouTube shi–

‘NO I AM NOT SMOKING THANK YOU VERY MUCH!’

She’s so – (Mimics suffocating.) I thought I’d have my own house by now – not putting up with these fuckers always moaning. Kevin – my stepdad, he’s got all these bastard rules. If you’re sat next to him texting he gets annoyed, and don’t even think about watching anything good on the telly, like Love Island or Kardashians. ‘Reality TV is for idiots which is made to detract us all from the real issues.’

I’m like ‘What real issues?’

Kevin goes on a rant about real celebrities in his day, and how my generation is self-obsessed. ‘If you’re not careful, your generation will end up with rotting brains.’

‘If I’m not careful? Am I responsible for my entire generation then? What’s Loose Women if it’s not a bunch of slags chatting bare shit?’

Beat.

‘That’s daytime telly, that’s a bit different Sasha.’ My mum pipes up.

These two wind me right up the fucking wall.

Beat. SASHA drinks from a can of Red Stripe.

I go downstairs, and they’re all there stood round the fucking kitchen table, with loads of shopping bags. I lean on the doorframe trying to not make it bait that I’m high again, they don’t look at me anyway.

Clears throat.

‘Bought me anything?’

‘Why would they buy YOU anything?’

This is Megan. Megan is my little sister and she’s a bitch. Kevin gives Megan a squeeze on the shoulder, it’s a ‘don’t let Sasha irritate you’ squeeze.

‘Well it’s not your money so mind your business.’

‘Well you’re twenty-four you should buy things for yourself.’

‘Well one: I haven’t got any money so how am I supposed to buy things for myself, and two: Shut your fucking mouth how about that?’

‘Hey hey hey Sasha. Less of that okay. Less of that.’

Beat. SASHA picks up a bag.

‘Since when do we shop at Debenhams.’

‘I’ve always gone to Debenhams.’

‘You’ve always “window-shopped” at Debenhams. You don’t GO to Debenhams Mum.’

SASHA looks in the bag.

‘Sixty pound for a pair of pillowcases?’

‘That’s because you only shop in Primark.’

Megan chuckles and I wonder what she’s gonna do when she actually turns sixteen. I think it’s legal to beat up a sixteen-year-old, she’s got about another seven months until I kick her in her cunt back to her dead dad’s grave…

Beat.

Megan makes up shit about the time her dad took her to Kids Kingdom. I was thirteen when he died so I know that didn’t happen. I do remember when he sold the TV that I had in my room, or the time he made me get out the car, and pick up drugs for him. My mum never had a problem with drugs back then, now she kicks off when she can smell even a hint of weed. My mum is born and bred in East London, and Kevin isn’t like any of the men my mum used to date. She had me at seventeen, and she used to go from bad guy to bad guy, including my dad. Everything that happened pre-Kevin, has somehow been erased.

Beat.

We were broke as fuck before Kevin showed up. Megan got sent to a posh school, I never.

‘Primark Princess to the rescue! The reason you don’t have any money to buy your own things is because you don’t have a job and you sit in your bedroom making “tracks”. Even though you’re too scared to post them online, because you know they won’t get any likes.’

I fix Megan with a cold-as-fuck look, but Kevin steps in before it gets out of hand.

‘Sasha my parents are over this evening for dinner, will you be around?’

Ah so this is why they called me downstairs.

SASHA studies Kevin.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Kevin dyes his hair, it’s a proper box-job grey. My mum and Megan go to the salon together. My mum tried to get me to go with ’em, and I told her they didn’t cut hair like mine – maybe she should check next time rather than subjecting me to a woman who’s never cut curly hair before.

Beat.

The two of them like this blonde mummy-and-daughter combo. The perfect trio and then there’s me.

Beat.

I live in Plaistow. Plaistow/Stratford. I liked growing up round here, everyone was kinda on the same level you know. It’s London, but we still played out. Knock Down Gingers, and run-outs by the blue-and-white maisonettes. The cars pulling in, and tryna dodge ’em to make it back to base. We used to push eggs through letterboxes when it was Halloween, we were a bunch of shits. But I had fun, it was just before kids started getting phones and using the internet. I grew up on chicken and chips. I was bred on that shit, and Fat Chaps when I could afford the chilli sauce. I walk through Stratford Rec, and think about when I used to pick daffodils for Mum on Mother’s Day. All excited for her, that was when Megan and I got on, she was a really cute baby.

Shit! It’s Lucy Davis. I’ve not seen her properly for about five years and it’s definitely her. There’s no way we’re not gonna bump into one another. It’s gonna be awkward, and we do bump into each other. And it’s fucking awkward.

‘You alright?’

Lucy says her and her boyfriend are briefly in town, and she talks about how much Stratford has changed, what with the huge Westfield and Olympic Park. Buying a house is impossible for her mum. All the hipsters have come in, pushing everyone out… I don’t really know when she got this smart and confident. Talking about politics.

‘Where are you living now?’

‘I’ve bought! Limehouse. Still close to the endz to see Mum and Megan but cheaper than Stratford.’

Lucy used to be my bestest friend. She went away to uni, and then we didn’t have anything in common any more. All the new friends she had looked like Ellie Goulding, and she started singing along to the Kaiser Chiefs and getting offended whenever I used the word retard. Suddenly I was too ghetto for her, and she became this stuck-up snob even though her mum’s been chiefing the benefit system for time.

I carry on walking towards Bow, and my throat feels thick. My stomach feels all weird and I feel ill. I feel like I might be sick so I sit down at the bus stop, and think about how nice it will be to see Anton. Sometimes my body does that, or I feel like my head might explode or I get really sweaty hands. I start to feel really panicky, like a right weirdo. Once it lasted for two months, but I just...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Contents
• Original Production
• Epigraph
• Acknowledgements
• Characters
• Superhoe
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information