Honeymoon Suite

Richard Bean

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9781840024067
• eBook ISBN: 9781849432368
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

"You love someone, you can feel it, like a lump, summat you carry around with yer. Bloody hell, it's either there or it int, like a hat." If Romeo and Juliet had lived, would their marriage have survived? How long? Ten years? Twenty? Fifty? How would the union have coped with poverty, corruption, his ignorance, her aspiration, an ungrateful daughter, no sons, infidelity with an attractive bloke on an evening class, God knows how many miscarriages and even murder?
A production of Honeymoon Suite by the English Touring Theatre opened at the Royal Court Theatre in January 2004.

Honeymoon Suite

WHITCHELL enters. He is a man of 67. He is wearing an old, and dirty car coat, old flip flops, and an embroidered fez-like hat. His glasses have one cracked lens. His trousers are of a baggy white Indian cotton style. He carries some fresh cut flowers (no wrapping paper.) and a bag of shopping in a new Safeway’s carrier bag. He unlocks the cupboard door. He takes a champagne bucket and glasses and puts them on the bedside table. From the shopping he takes a packet of ice and fills the bucket. From the inside of his shirt he takes a bottle of champagne, picks the price label off it and puts it on ice. From the other side of his shirt he takes a packet of Cherry Bakewell cakes and puts them in the cupboard. From under his hat he takes a packet of After Eight mints. He takes a vase from the cupboard and fills it with water from the bathroom and arranges the flowers. He looks out of the window at the beach, focussing on something specific. He rolls up a mattress which is outside on the balcony and puts it away in the same cupboard. He leaves the cupboard door unlocked. He stands and admires the room.

WHITCHELL: Lovely.

(He looks at his watch. He takes a scrap of paper from his pocket and dials a number on the phone.)

(On the phone.) Afternoon love…Eddie Whitchell. Now, first things first, this is a freephone number in’t it? …now you don’t know me, I’ve never rung before. I’ve thought about it, but I’ve not been inspired to make the effort until today. I live in Brid. Bridlington and one of your drivers has just come through town… No, no. I took a note of the number on the back and I thought I’d ring and give you my opinion, and it’s an opinion worth having cos I used to drive a three-ton fish truck mesen. …Right love, have you gorra pen? …I’d say that your driver is driving courteously, observing the highway code, and driving with due regard and concern for the other road users and the pedestrians. So all in all very good, ten out of ten, and nothing to complain about at all… I’m a pedestrian. For instance at the roundabout down by the Spa where Bobby Davro’s playing he stopped the lorry completely even though it’s only a give way, cos he realised that the pedestrian crossing there is caught in a blind spot with the new toilets they’ve built with the European money they got, and we’ve had two people knocked down already this year and we don’t want Bobby Davro to be the third do we? …You’re entitled to your own opinion love. I was under the impression he’s very popular with the ladies… ‘You’d rather give birth to a chair,’ really?, each to his own, her own. Me, I think that needless loss of life is best avoided at all times, whether it’s a talented variety artist or, to use your phrase, ‘an irritating little shit’. Mind you if one of them graffiti vandals were to get knocked down then I’d be the first to celebrate. If I had my way I’d lock them up and throw away the door… Yes, I have finished, I think that’s all I wanted to say, so er…it’s a ‘well done’ to your driver fellah when you see him, ‘very good’, I was impressed… Tarra.

(He puts the phone down.)

(He sighs.) Shit, shower, shave.

(Laughter off. A joyful scream. Followed by the fumbling of a key in the lock. IRENE and EDDIE stand on the threshold of the room. WHITCHELL does not react to their presence. IRENE is an attractive girl of about 18 and is dressed in the fashions of 1955. She carries a cheap suitcase, and a bunch of flowers. There is confetti in her hair. EDDIE is also 18. He is of medium height, and stocky, and muscular. He is dressed in a powder blue suit. His hair is done in a brylcremed DA style. His suitcase – an old cardboard one is held together by a belt.)

EDDIE: (Surprised, pleased, and impressed.) Kaw!

IRENE: (Surprised, pleased and moved.) Bloody hell!

EDDIE: Kaw!!

IRENE: Oh it’s smashin. Oh Eddie, it’s bloody lovely.

EDDIE: (Spots the champagne.) Kaw!!!

(He takes the bottle out of the bucket.)

IRENE: Is that champagne Eddie?

EDDIE: (Looking closely at the label, reading.) Dom Perignon. Brut.

IRENE: Is it real champagne, or just fizzy wine?

EDDIE: How do I know? You’re the doctor.

(He hands the bottle over.)

IRENE: It’s real! Oh, Eddie how much did this cost me dad?

EDDIE: Aye, he’s done us proud. How do you open ’em?

(He puts the champagne back in the bucket.)

IRENE: Oh, I would know wunt I. Spent me whole life opening champagne bottles.

EDDIE: Sarcy.

(He puts the bottle back in the ice bucket. He looks at the chandelier, then opens the French windows.)

’Kinnel.

(He looks up and down the beach until he focusses on a point off – up stage right. He turns looking pleased with himself and closes the windows.)

IRENE: It’s like worr I dreamt of int it?

EDDIE: It’s not good enough.

IRENE: You what?

EDDIE: (Straight faced.) It’s not good enough for you Irene.

IRENE: Eddie! There’s nowt wrong with it – it’s lovely. It’s perfect!

EDDIE: Nowhere’s good enough for you.

IRENE: You’ll talk yersen into heaven you will.

EDDIE: I am in heaven.

IRENE: God I love you Eddie Whitchell.

EDDIE: And I love you Mrs Whitchell.

(They kiss. It is a sensuous kiss. She pulls away from him. He lies back showing some frustration. He adjusts his tackle.)

IRENE: D’yer think there’s a bathroom?

EDDIE: (Worried.) Are you on?

IRENE: I’m not gonna go and get mesen wed at the wrong time of the month am I?

EDDIE: We can still do it even if you’re on, you know.

IRENE: Don’t be disgusting. Is that a bathroom?

(He goes into the bathroom.)

EDDIE: (Off.) Kaw! Eh, Irene come and have a look at this.

(EDDIE flushes a loo needlessly, and turns on a tap or two. IRENE goes over, and into the bathroom.)

IRENE: (Off.) Oh, this is smashing. What the bloody hell is that?

EDDIE: (Off.) French int it? For washing yer bits, you know, after.

IRENE: (Of...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Copyright page
• Set
• Characters
• Honeymoon Suite