Almost With You

Elizabeth Coleman

• Publisher: Currency Press
• Year: 2014
• eBook ISBN: 9781925210064
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Drama
• Index: Literature

It's 2007. At 45, Lisa is fighting growing feelings for Tom that threaten to rob her of Dan, the person she's always loved most in the world. She wants Tom badly, but she can't (or won't) tell him about Dan, and Tom finds himself in a competition that he can't possibly understand. As for Dan, he's a cheeky, exasperating mystery: a twenty-year-old who lives in Lisa's house and heart and is steeped in the style and the vibrant music of the British post-punk era.Dan brings Lisa a joy she can't bear to explain, but with her chance for a life with Tom slipping away, she must finally find the courage to let Dan go. It's the most terrifying-and liberating-decision she's made since a fateful night 25 years ago.Taking its title from the Church song, Almost With You is written with Elizabeth Coleman's customary wit, warmth and elegance. With flashbacks to the '70s and '80s lovingly captured, Almost With You is a funny and deeply affecting look at love, loss and letting go.

In the darkness we hear the song ‘Alone with You’ by The Sunnyboys (1981).

A date appears on a screen above the stage: ‘2007’.

Lights fade up. LISA (45) and TOM (50) are sitting on Tom’s couch in lamplight, kissing. They’re fully clothed. LISA is straddling TOM’s lap.

As ‘Alone with You’ fades TOM pulls LISA closer, but she starts wincing.

LISA: Ooh… Umm, I just… Sorry, I have to…

She pulls away.

TOM: Lisa? Sorry. Was I being too…?

LISA: No, it’s my knees.

She’s torn between embarrassment and amusement as she climbs off his lap and sits beside him, stretching her legs.

They’re not what they used to be.

TOM: [smiling] Are you okay?

LISA: I’m fine—I’ve just got under-developed adductor muscles, according to my Pilates teacher.

TOM: I didn’t know that you did Pilates.

LISA: I don’t do it very well.

They laugh.

I shouldn’t say that, it’s not a competitive sport… Have you ever noticed how before forty your physical ailments just go away? But after forty they hang around and become a management issue?

TOM: That’s so true.

He smiles at her shyly. She leans in and kisses him. They start up again.

[Murmuring] I’ve got a prolapsed disc.

LISA: A prolapsed what?

TOM: Disc. With an ‘s’. In my lower back.

LISA: [laughing] Oh… you poor thing…

TOM: I moved the fridge the wrong way one day and I just felt my back slip out.

LISA: Ouch.

TOM: Yeah. It comes and goes.

LISA: Do you do Pilates?

TOM: No, but people keep telling me I should.

LISA: They’re probably right.

TOM: So you like Pilates?

LISA: I like leaving Pilates. I’m not mad about it when I’m actually there, but I can feel it doing me good.

TOM: I should think about it. When Grace says, ‘Daddy, hang me upside down!’, I have to say, ‘Sorry, sweetie, don’t forget Daddy’s bad back’.

LISA: Oh… Well, at least it doesn’t stop you from giving her a cuddle.

TOM: No, but I think she’d beat me in an arm wrestle.

LISA laughs. TOM leans over and gently guides her onto her back. He climbs on top of her. LISA is self-conscious about her middle-aged body.

LISA: Could you turn out the light?

TOM switches off the lamp. We see their shapes in the darkness as they kiss. Seconds pass.

TOM: [in the darkness] You know, you could claim your Pilates as a deduction.

LISA: [in the darkness] Could I?

TOM: [in the darkness] I shouldn’t bring up tax.

LISA: [in the darkness] No, it’s okay. Could I really?

TOM: [in the darkness] Absolutely. You’re a journalist. You spend most of your time at a computer—that messes with your neck and shoulder muscles.

LISA: [in the darkness] I should have thought of that.

TOM: [in the darkness] That’s my job. Why don’t you bring it—?

LISA: [interrupting] Shit. Tom, there’s something under…

TOM turns on the light. LISA reaches under her bum and pulls out a pair of reading glasses with a crooked arm.

Oh no, it’s glasses! I’m sorry. I didn’t see them.

TOM: Don’t worry, that arm’s always been wonky.

LISA: Weally?

TOM: Yes, weally. Why don’t you bring me your Pilates receipts? You need deductions because you don’t have dependents.

LISA: Which reminds me, I’m supposed to be interviewing you about your dependents… which I guess makes this another deduction....

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Playwright’s Biography
• Dedication
• First Production
• Characters
• Almost with You
• Copyright Page