Act Two
Scene One
Evening. Living room. Meera is tidying whilst singing. Daniel comes in with bags, heās been clothes shopping for the baby.
Daniel Yo babes, you seen my mum?
Meera Food shopping.
Daniel Cool.
Meera You sure you got enough bags?
Daniel (excited) Look, look what I got.
Daniel goes through a sequence of showing Meera a selection of baby trainers, caps, clothes and blankets.
Daniel Look at these Jordans, mad innit, and I got these cute hats and also look . . .
Reveals a designer baby jacket from the bag.
Wonāt fit her straight away but sheāll growā
Meera Yeah, itās nice.
Daniel What . . . just nice?
Meera Yeah, itās cute.
Daniel I hear you saying itās cute, but your face is push up like to sayā look Iāll take them back/if youā
Meera Where did you get the money to buy all that?
Daniel (beat) Student loan.
Meera Student loan, right!
Daniel Yeah, I been saving it/because I knewā
Meera reveals Danielās bank statement.
Meera Then what is this.
Daniel Whatās that?
Meera Your bank statement, you spent that months ago.
Daniel Why you going through my shit?
Daniel snatches bank statement.
Meera I didnāt have to go through your shit, Iām tidying up.
Look Iām grateful, I really am and itās nice stuff but tell me you aināt doing that shit again?
Daniel I told youā
Meera I know what you told me but tell me the truth.
Daniel It is the truth!
Meera Then why donāt I believe you? I told you Iām not bringing up no child here if youāre still on that.
Daniel And I told you Iāve stopped! Anyway, you didnāt mind before . . . when I was spending P on you, and now you got a set of fucking morals you think you can tell man what to do . . . Look what Iāve done for you. You live here because of me. Your family didnāt want you and I made sure you were looked after, so before you start dishing out orders on man look at what the fuck Iām doing for youā
Patricia enters.
Patricia Oi, what is going on insideāere?
Pause.
Patricia Meera, go downstairs . . .
Meera Iām so sorryā
Patricia Iām not going to repeat myself.
Meera goes.
Patricia Whose house is this?
Daniel Let me explain.
Patricia Mi never ask yuh fi explain nuttin, mi ask yuh a question.
Now, whose house is this?
Daniel Yours.
Patricia Datās right. Donāt let mi catch you tarkin dat rubbish about āwhy she live hereā and āwhat yuh done fi herā, because di last time I check, this house in my name.
Daniel Why you listening/to our conversation?
Patricia Nah boda ask mi why mi listening to anything in my own house and I donāt want toāear you raising yu voice to her like dat full stop.
Deena comes running up the stairs and bursts in with excitement dancing.
Deena Mum, Mum, Mum, guess whoāsā
Patricia Not right now Deena, Iām trying to sort outā
Deena Cool butā
Patricia I said not right now! I canāt do two things at once and Iām trying fi sort out these two insideāere.
Deena is shocked.
Deena Do you know what, forget it!
Deena storms off.
Patricia Excuse me! Whatās di matter wid everyone inside here. Mi have your sister upset every two second for God knows what and then yuh two are fighting whenever mi turn mi back. I just want some bloody peace and quiet inna mi house! Is that too much to ask for? Now whatās dis rubbish you tarkin to Meera?
Daniel We were just talking and thenā
Patricia Then talk! Now is not di time to be shouting at her, giving the gyal all kinds of stress. Listen, whatever yawl arguing about is none of my business, but Iām nobodyās fool, but yuh canāt do things for people outta the kindness of yuh heart and throw it back in their face when you na like what yuh hear, do I make myself clear?
Daniel Yes, Mum.
Meera and Patricia exit. Daniel takes a seat. Deep breath.
Scene Two
Leonās flat. A rainy late evening. Leon is tidying, playing grime music. Door knocking. Leon turns the music off, looks through the peep hole and opens the door.
Daniel Can I holla at you real quick?
Leon (hesitant) Yeah cool.
Daniel enters. Leon sits. Apart from the sound of the rain itās silent.
Daniel I been outside three hours trying to think what I was gonna say when I come here.
Leon Listen broā
Daniel Let me talk . . . what the fuck, fam! Yo, real early ma...