eBook - ePub
Posh
Laura Wade
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- 112 páginas
- English
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eBook - ePub
Posh
Laura Wade
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"I've got a new law for you mate, it's called survival of the fittest, it's called fuck you we're the Riot Club." In an oak-panelled room in Oxford, ten young bloods with cut-glass vowels and deep pockets are meeting, intent on restoring their right to rule. Members of an elite student dining society, the boys are bunkering down for a wild night of debauchery, decadence and bloody good wine. But this isn't the last huzzah: they're planning a takeover. Welcome to the Riot Club.
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Información
ACT ONE
SCENE 1
A Gentlemen’s Club in London. A wood-panelled room with two big leather armchairs and a small table between them.
JEREMY sits in one of the chairs, sipping from a glass of whisky. GUY stands opposite him.
JEREMY: Don’t stand there like a schoolboy, GUY – take a seat.
GUY: That a new chap on the desk?
JEREMY: They’re all bloody new.
GUY: Told me you were upstairs in the Blue Room.
JEREMY: Idiot.
GUY: I said concentrate, mate – I’m not even a member and even I know the Blue Room’s the one downstairs,
JEREMY: Which isn’t actually blue.
GUY: Which isn’t actually blue. The one you’re talking about, despite having blue walls, I said, is actually the Oak Room.
JEREMY: Bloody foreign staff. Couldn’t run a piss up in a bath.
GUY: So. How’s the mood in the camp?
JEREMY: Oh, you know.
GUY: Amazing, yeah – feet under the table, back in the saddle, ducks in a row, heads above parapets,
JEREMY: Too many metaphors.
GUY: Just the table one, then.
JEREMY: Standing there with a dustpan and brush in your hand, clearing up after someone else’s party.
GUY: No, yeah, course. I mean, what, thirteen years on the sidelines? Long winter.
JEREMY: Hard to make people love you when it’s all cut cut cut.
GUY: No, sure.
JEREMY: Just set up a group to work on Operation Charm Offensive.
GUY: Excellent.
JEREMY: All they’ve dreamed up so far is a monthly backbenchers’ Curry Night.
GUY: Poppadoms and policy.
JEREMY: Men of the people, you know.
GUY: And women.
JEREMY: People of the people. More offensive than charming, so far.
How’s college?
GUY: Yeah good good.
JEREMY: Playing any Rugger?
GUY: Only when they’re desperate.
JEREMY: Your mother tells me you’re seeing some girl.
GUY: Well. Yeah. I mean it’s not –
JEREMY: Bit out of the loop, aren’t I?
GUY: Yeah, it’s been a while.
JEREMY: Bit remiss with the godfathering?
GUY: No, god no. I mean I totally know you’re here when I need you, so –
GUY pauses.
JEREMY: Drink?
GUY: Yes please.
JEREMY pours two tumblers of whisky.
JEREMY: Water?
GUY: Ice please.
JEREMY looks at GUY: wrong answer. He puts some ice into GUY’s drink.
JEREMY: So what’s her name?
GUY: Lauren.
JEREMY: Lauren.
D’you know, I don’t know a single person called Lauren isn’t that remarkable?
GUY: Not really.
JEREMY: Lauren what, Lauren who?
GUY: Lauren Small.
JEREMY: Small. Is she?
GUY: Not where it matters.
JEREMY: Where’s she from?
GUY: Hastings.
JEREMY: Charming. And the parents?
GUY: They have a chain of shops.
JEREMY: Selling what?
GUY: Magazines, newspapers.
JEREMY: A newsagent?
GUY: Chain of them. Several.
JEREMY: Cigarettes and chocolate. Well, people always popping out for a pint of milk. Or scratch cards.
GUY: Language.
JEREMY: Where’d she go to school?
GUY: In Hastings.
JEREMY: Day school?
GUY: Comprehensive.
JEREMY: Clever girl, getting to Oxford.
GUY: First in the family.
JEREMY: Goes like the clappers as well, I expect.
Wonderful thing about girls like that, if I remember, is they’re very cheap to run.
GUY: God yeah. Think you’re a high roller if you go to Cafe Rouge without a voucher.
JEREMY: But not a keeper.
GUY: No no. God, no. Girls for now, girls for later.
GUY sips his drink.
JEREMY: In case it helps, Guy, I’m liable to be called back to the Lords any moment, so if you’ve something to ask, I’d spit it out.
GUY: Right, no, of course. You’re very busy.
OK, right.
It’s the – It’s the Riot Club. We’re back in business. This term.
JEREMY: Yes, I thought it might be that.
GUY: You knew, did you?
JEREMY: Yes.
GUY: James had a call from – James Leighton-Masters, the p...