The Sweethearts

Sarah Page

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2015
• Print ISBN:
  9781783199761
• Edition: 1
• eBook ISBN:
  9781783199778
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

Coco, Mari and Helena are The Sweethearts, a manufactured girl band who are rarely off the front page of the tabloids. In need of some positive publicity, they travel to Afghanistan to do a special gig for the troops at Camp Bastion before the base is handed over to Afghan officials. A group of battle weary soldiers, chosen to protect these three beautiful celebrities, eagerly await their arrival. But when there's an attack on the base, The Sweethearts and the soldiers are thrown together and forced to wait it out in very close quarters...

Marking the first anniversary of the departure of British Troops from Afghanistan after a thirteen-year campaign and the deaths of 453 British service personnel, The Sweethearts is a new play about the people we choose to make into our heroes and how we tear them back down...

1.

Summer 2014. The Helmand Province of Afghanistan. Dusk.

A large tent in Camp Bastion, usually used as an office, that has been temporarily converted into sleeping quarters. The walls are made of thick, khaki canvas with a split at the back creating a doorway into the tent. When the entrance is open, the setting sun casts long, dark shadows across the dusty ground.

A large map dotted with red markers and a notice board have been left up on the side wall. There are three clocks set to different time zones labelled ‘Washington’, ‘London’ and ‘Hell’. Three bunks have been brought in and a couple of filing cabinets are doubling as tables between the beds. Two desks have been turned into makeshift dressing tables. There is a rail at the back of the tent with a number of empty hangers. Two large flags, one Union Jack and one St George’s Cross, are draped from the top of the metal poles that support the structure.

Private DAVID ROBINS, 24, peers through the doorway. He sees that the tent is empty and enters. He is holding a water bottle canteen with a small bunch of poppies inside. He sets it down on one of the dressing tables.

He looks over to the entrance before approaching the central of the three beds. He takes a small envelope out of his pocket. He smoothes it out for a moment before hiding it under the pillow.

He hears a sound near the entrance and spins around just as Private TREVOR SMITH, 20, enters. He’s holding a metal ammo case which he’s filled with red tulips and poppies.

TREVOR: Neil shit himself in the cookhouse.

DAVID: He didn’t.

TREVOR: I saw it.

DAVID: When?

TREVOR: Just now.

DAVID: He’s still got dysentery then.

TREVOR: He dragged himself out of his sick bed. Says no stomach bug is going to stop him from seeing the girls perform. He’s sitting there, right, white as a sheet and pouring with sweat. Just about holding it together, managing to nibble on a chunk of bread, when Mark tells us a funny story.

DAVID: Which story?

TREVOR: The one about how he tried to plumb in that Afghan woman’s new washing machine. So Neil’s laughing away right, enjoying himself, then suddenly he’s not laughing anymore.

DAVID: That’s how quickly things can change round here.

TREVOR: One minute you’re fine.

DAVID: Completely fine.

TREVOR: The next you’re literally in the shit.

DAVID: What’s he gonna do?

TREVOR: His C.O. said he can still watch the girls but he’s got to stay at the back and promise to sit on a towel. (Beat.) What you doing in here, ‘ey...? Planting surveillance devices?

DAVID gestures to the flowers.

TREVOR: Fuck you. I reckoned I was the only one who’d think of that.

DAVID: Sorry.

TREVOR puts his flowers down on the other dressing table.

TREVOR: My bunch is bigger than yours.

DAVID: Mines understated. Yours screams desperation.

TREVOR: I am desperate.

DAVID: Yeah?

TREVOR: I’d post you to the Taliban if it’d mean one of those girls would so much as look at my knob. First class with a bow on the crate and a thank you note for all the good times.

DAVID: Cheers mate.

Beat.

DAVID: Where is Mark anyway?

TREVOR: He says he’s making himself ‘presentable’.

DAVID: Presentable?

TREVOR: Yes. Presentable. For the benefit of the band.

DAVID: Of all the soldiers Nicholls could have chosen to look after a group of attractive women.

TREVOR: Said he drew names out of a helmet.

DAVID: Sure he did.

TREVOR considers this.

DAVID: Li...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Characters
• 1.
• 2.