Low light up on two men asleep in bed.
One of them, CHRIS, starts to twist and move as though trying to escape something. He mumbles anxiously, then moans in fear. His partner JAKE stirs and looks across at him, concerned. CHRIS starts to flinch and shudder emitting liitle yelps of pain, then sits up convulsively, awake. JAKE reaches for him but CHRIS stands and stumbles away trying to shake off the nightmare.
JAKE also gets up and follows him into what is now a living space. CHRIS is still trembling. JAKE takes him by the shoulders and leads him to a chair.
JAKE: Come on⦠Come on. (Settles him into chair.) There. (Looks at his watch.) Coffee?
CHRIS nods. JAKE goes to turn it on. Silence.
JAKE: What was all that about?
CHRIS: What?
JAKE: You. Thrashing and moaning.
Pause.
CHRIS: Sorry⦠Not sure whatā¦
JAKE: Sounded like you were being, I donāt know ⦠beaten, whipped.
CHRIS doesnāt reply, his arms still wrapped around him. JAKE goes back to the coffee. Then ā
CHRIS: Not me.
JAKE: What?
CHRIS: Somebody. Not me.
JAKE: What?
CHRIS: Being whipped.
JAKE: Who?
CHRIS: Some ā¦Not sure.
JAKE: Not sure?
CHRIS: Old demons.
JAKE: What demons Chris? (No reply.) Bloody demonsā¦
CHRIS: You donāt have demons Jake?
JAKE: I talk about mine. What were you dreaming about?
CHRIS: Evaporated⦠(Checks his watch.) God, itās lateā¦
He goes to check emails on laptop on table in front of him. JAKE busies with the coffee.
JAKE: Whatās your day?
CHRIS: Um ⦠Conference planning meeting. Folk flying in from all over the Middle East to plot and scheme and make mayhem. You?
JAKE: Same old. Hungry?
CHRIS: No thanks.
JAKE: Possible new client in the morning, a little shoot in the afternoon.
CHRIS: Shoot? What?
JAKE: Some high-faluting pasta dishes for Billyās new diabetes cookbook. (No reply. CHRIS focussed on his mail.) I am charging him this time.
CHRIS: Bloody hell!
JAKE: What?
CHRIS: Crazy!
JAKE: (Delivers coffee.) Speak to me, Chris ā¦
CHRIS: This is ā¦Got an email yesterday from somebody in Yangon ā
JAKE: Yangon?
CHRIS: Oh Godā¦It was ⦠oh, years ago. Another life, Jake ā¦From the Chairman of the Committee for the Silver Jubilee Reunion of the 1988 Students Revolution ā something like that. Apparently they would be honoured if I could go to Yangon for it.
JAKE: Why you?
CHRIS: It⦠oh, ā¦when I was a journalist. A baby.
JAKE: Why donāt I know about this?
CHRIS: Because ā Itās over. Nobody knows about it here.
JAKE: And?
CHRIS: Oh ⦠BBC World Service sent me to Yangon ā still Rangoon then ā to ā¦check stuff out. God knows why me. The only one available I think. Anyway. I happened to be there when a Revolution broke out. I ⦠got involved.
JAKE: Now they want you to be part of their Silver Jubilee? Thatās big stuff. Why the hell have you never told me?
CHRIS: I ⦠guess I thought I had.
JAKE: For fuckās sake, Chris!
CHRIS: Look ⦠I almost deleted it without replying. But I bashed out a quick two lines thanking them bla-bla but pointing out I have been persona non grata in Myanmar for the last twenty-five years and that I would be arrested the moment I got off the plane.
JAKE: Persona non grata?
CHRIS: I told you. I got involved. So they barred me.
JAKE: What does āinvolvedā mean?
CHRIS: Heās just pinged me back. Things are changing fast he says. They have checked with the Ministry, my name has been taken off the list. They would be honoured if I would come. Most honoured, apparently. Bloody hell!
JAKE: So what are you going to do?
CHRIS: Donāt knowā¦
JAKE: You want to?
CHRIS: Could be a trap.
JAKE: A trap?
CHRIS: Still a military dictatorship. Prisons still knee deep in political prisoners.
JAKE: So donāt. (Pause.) You want to?
CHRIS: Donāt know.
JAKE: Your nightmare. The man being whipped. Was that Burma?
CHRIS shrugs.
JAKE: You get an email from Burma ā Myanmar ā and you have a nightmare? Why? What happened there?
CHRIS: It was an important part of my life, Jake.
JAKE: So why does it give you nightmares?
Paus...