After the Cuts

Gary McNair

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781786826053
• eBook ISBN: 9781786826060
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

It's the future; just like now, but a bit more… well, shitey. Jim and Agnes have worked hard their whole lives and now Agnes needs a life-saving operation. With the NHS as we know it a thing of the past, they must take matters into their own hands in this darkly comic tale showing the lengths people go to for life and love.

JIM: Let me just get one thing clear before we start.

This is not a story of innocence over guilt.

This is a story of needs must. Of final solutions and what happens when we, ordinary folk, are pushed to the end of our tether.

If there is a God, then let that God, who has seen so much pain and suffering and struggle and injustice do the judging in this case.

If there is no God, then I find myself at your mercy.

I live with my actions and I don’t need to be scrutinised.

With that said, let me begin.

Of course, there’s no end to the possible beginnings of this story.

But we should probably start three years ago in June of 2042. Christ, I hear that, 2042, and it still sounds like the future, it sounds like a futuristic date. I thought by the time we got to the 2042 it would feel all futuristic – all flying Jetson cars and teleporting chickens and jet packs but we never got any of that. As time went on the future just revealed itself to be much like the present but a bit, well… shitter.

Anyway, it was a June day in 2042, it was a day like any other. An unassuming day. Nice. But then again, as Aggie would say ‘watch out for nice days, they are always the ones that can turn into the biggest cunt of a day.’

That’s my Aggie, heart of gold, mouth of filth. My perfect Govan Lady.

So, home she comes…

The door opens and a woman, AGNES, enters. He is delighted to see her. She seems a little uneasy.

AGNES: You’ve tided?

JIM: I sure have.

AGNES: Right. What’s going on?

JIM: Nothing. I just wanted to…

AGNES: Have you shagged somebody?

Jesus, you’ve been retired two months and that’s you at the shaggin’?

JIM: Naw. I wish!

I mean, no I don’t mean… I mean…

NO. What? I just wanted to make the place look nice.

AGNES: Listen here James Baxter, you have not tidied a thing in this house in over thirty years.

JIM: (To audience.) James? Ooft. Still, could have been worse. Could have pulled out the middle name.

AGNES: The only time you’ve ever actually looked at the hoover was when you decided to strip it apart so you could put it back together with improved performance. And I’ve got to hand it to you, while it’s never been switched back on, it certainly has been gathering plenty of dust.

Now. What are you hiding?

JIM: I’m no hiding anything. I just… look. I knocked over a cup of tea, right? But then I couldn’t get the stain out. So, I shimmied the dresser over a bit to cover it up. But it looked weird, out of place, it was like it was just staring at me, highlighting my error rather than hiding it, going ‘there’s a big dirty tea stain under me and you know it Jim’. So, then I moved everything over by the same amount. And that, whilst disguising the misplaced dresser table and the tea stain, that created a much bigger problem, was spinning me out, it was like I was out of place. Made me feel sea sick. Plus it exposed all these wee bits of fresh, clean carpet that hadn’t aged under the sofa and all that, made the rest of the place look all dirty.

So. To fix that, I just had to clean everything.

AGNES: Have you lost it?

JIM: But look, I’ve fixed it now, so we’re all good. Good as new. Fixed.

AGNES: You’re an absolute/

JIM: /Look, why don’t you tell me about your day?

JIM sits AGNES down on sofa.

AGNES: What?… the… look, can we have a cup of tea first?

JIM: The kettle’s already boiled.

AGNES: Ah! You might be absolutely terrible at cleaning but I tell you what, you always know when I need a cuppa.

JIM: You always need a cuppa.

AGNES: Exactly.

JIM pours the tea.

He brings it over to AGNES.

JIM: One cup of tea.

AND one… Blue Riband.

AGNES: My god, where did you get that?

JIM: I met a guy who knows a guy has links to a nostalgia shop.

AGNES: Will it no taste a bit funny?

JIM: What? No, it’s not a vintage biscuit. It’s new. Apparently they still make them for posh folk in Bath or Harrogate or something.

AGNES: Jim we cannae afford to be getting stuff like this.

JIM: I know, but look it was just the one. And I thought, ‘why not? you only live once. It’s only money.’ Plus he did me a deal because I got one of his o...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half-Title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Chapter 1