SCENE ONE
A stone-fruit farm. Summer.
Trees heavy with fruit. Palettes of packing boxes in a yard which is flanked by a house and sheds.
CELIA enters with her arms full of peaches. She is in her early forties, energetic, warm.
CELIA: Have you seen these Red Havens?! Luscious. Dead-on ready to pick. A day over, if anything.
She gently releases the armload of fruit into a box. We realise she is speaking to DOROTHY.
DOROTHY is in her seventies, with a Hungarian accent. She wears an assortment of vibrantly patterned clothes and a mass of long grey hair. She can wander between scenesâsometimes in the scene herself, sometimes addressing the audience.
DOROTHY: [to the audience] Before we begin this story, let me say: you canât put the blame to anyone for what happened. Good people. Trying to avoid the necessary losses.
CELIA: Zoe fell asleep after lunch.
DOROTHY: Ah.
CELIA: I wonât wake her up now. She might as well sleep while I work out what to do. [She grabs a peach from the box and inhales its scent. She laughs.] Can you believe this? Best season for five years and the bloody fruitâs going to rot on the trees.
CELIA throws herself into work, hauling stuff around.
Sixteen-year-old ZOE appears, unseen by CELIA, and watches from a hiding spot.
DOROTHY: [to the audience] Sometimes all you can do is sit back and watch people make mistakes. The instant a person loves a person or a thing, they face the risk of losing that person or thing.
JOE enters, taking off his suit coat and rolling up his shirt sleeves. Heâs about forty.
CELIA: Joe! Hi. Want a cold drink on this stinking day?
JOE: Nah, Iâm fine, thanks.
DOROTHY: Heâs driven in his airconditioned car from his airconditioned office.
JOE: How are you, Mum?
JOE gives DOROTHY a kiss on both cheeks.
DOROTHY: Why do you come out here to check on me? Iâm okay.
JOE: Iâm here to maybe do Celia a favour. Are you still needing pickers?
CELIA: Desperately. Royâs whole mob of pickers have buggered off nobody knows where.
JOE signals to someone offstage. KIERAN and SHEENA enter.
JOE: I mightâve found you a couple of people.
CELIA watches them approach. KIERAN is eighteen, ebullient, hyper, gauche, but winning. SHEENA, in her mid-twenties, has a tough, sharp-tongued manner, awkward and wary.
CELIA: You know them?
JOE: No. They were at the garage in town. Car broken down.
CELIA: [smiling heartily] Gâday. Iâm Celia.
SHEENA: Oh, uh, Sheena and this isâ
KIERAN: Kieran. Celia? Celia? Hi. This place is so mad. The trees right down to the roadâYou grew all those?
CELIA: Yeah.
KIERAN: Mad. All this excellent fruit.
KIERAN grins at CELIA who canât help smiling back.
CELIA: Oh, this is Joeâs mum, Dorothy.
SHEENA nods hello.
Dorothy handles the fruit grading and packing for us at this time of year.
DOROTHY: [dancing her hands in the air] The sharpest eyes and softest hands available in the fruit bowl of south-western New South Wales.
KIERAN laughs, appreciating DOROTHY. While SHEENA and CELIA talk, KIERAN bounces around looking at the peaches with delighted curiosity.
SHEENA: Heard you might have some work going.
CELIA: Yeah.
SHEENA: Well, we need to earn some money as quickly as we can soâummâ
CELIA: Any experience picking stone fruit?
SHEENA shakes her head.
Any kind of fruit?
SHEENA: None.
CELIA: Okay. Thatâs teachable. Thatâs doable. When your carâs fixed, youâll have transport out here from town every day?
SHEENA: Uh, no, we donât get the car back âtil we earn the money to pay for the parts.
CELIA: Right⊠Itâs just weâre not set up to have pickers stay on the place.
JOE draws CELIA aside for a whispered conference.
JOE: Theyâre pretty desperate, I reckon. Any chance they could camp on the property?
CELIA: I donât like the idea of peopleâstrangersâstaying out here. I decided years ago not to go that way.
JOE: Yep, fair enough. If you donât feel comfortable about it, Iâll find them somewhere else toâ
SHEENA: Look, um, if itâs all a big hassle, yâknow, donât worry. Weâll piss off andâ
CELIA: No. Donât piss off. Iâve got twenty thousand peaches that have to be picked before they rot. I need hard workers in a hurry.
SHEENA: I need two thousand bucks in a hurry.
CELIA looks at SHEENA, sizing her up.
CELIA: See that shack? Itâs primitive. And filthy. Hasnât been used for fifteen years.
SHEENA: Primitive is oka...