Stiletto Beach

Sadie Hasler

• Publisher: Methuen Drama
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781350149694
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Mezzi di comunicazione e arti performative
• Subtopic: Scrittura di pièce teatrali

Best mates Leanne and Kelly have lived in Southend-on-Sea their whole lives. Larger-than-life Leanne is happy staying put, but Kelly secretly dreams of escaping her dull job and seeing the world. When out-of-towner journalist Helen can't afford Leigh-on-Sea so moves in next door instead, events take a surprising turn. As Leanne and Kelly take her under their wing, an unexpected friendship blooms in Spoons, and Helen soon has them reconsidering what it means to celebrate where you're from. With the help of Leanne's Nan, east-ender Roni, they take a sharp swipe at stereotypes women have been putting up with for decades. Mischief ensues, fires are lit, and the Essex girls do what's in their blood: cause trouble – but not in a way anyone would expect…

Act One

The University of Essex, Colchester. 2019

Startle people with a rude blast of Elgar’s Pomp & Circumstance. Student whooping and clapping. Dame Viv bursts on like a gust of holiday wind. The music fades just before the Land of Hope and Glory bit.

Dame Vivian Steele – fabulous, majestic take-no-shit legend of the stage and screen who exudes that rarest of combinations, sex and dignity – is wearing a cap and gown. She approaches the podium and speaks to the audience, who are the graduates. She’s posh. Naturally. Uses her Oscar to hold her loo roll in the downstairs WC.

Dame Viv Thank you. (Smiles and laughs as the exuberance subsides.)

Wow. The University of Essex. Hullo! Dame Viv in the house. (A scatter of laughter and applause.) You’re very kind. Some of you may know me from films, some of you may vaguely recognise me from a long-running telly programme your parents or grandparents watched. Some of you may not know me at all – and that’s ok. But very few know me as one of the things I’ve been all my life. An Essex Girl. (A few laughs.) I know, hilarious isn’t it. Essex. That famous joke. (Silence.) You might be wondering where I’m going with this. I’m not entirely sure myself.

So. I’ll go back to somewhere near the beginning. (After her regal entrance, she now looks almost abashed . . .)

I grew up – (the merest of pauses) – in a large but little seaside town which seemed to me spent its life being passed by. Tucked into the mouth of the mighty River Thames like a cigarette. An observer. Looking right, to the capital, to London, or looking left, out to where the sea begins, and the world.

The sound of an old-fashioned carousel and delighted crowds; nostalgia; magic. She is back there.

Bright lights, rides and ice cream. Stoney beaches and cacophonous amusements. A town to be visited and then left, strewn with chip paper and dropped potato delights for the gulls.

The sounds cut out, we are left with gulls.

Magic. Detritus. Mess. Fun for a daytrip but not good enough to live in; fallen to disrepair and social ridicule.

Is it any wonder some of us grew up with an instinct for escape . . .

The spotlight on Dame Viv goes out.

The gulls get louder and the sound of the sea.

The lights come up, Dame Viv is gone.

The sound of an incoming tide.

Lights and sound evoke fast-paced seafront glory, Neon Wonderland, cars, boys, girls, drinks, arcades, slots, rides. BASS. A tiny slice of Essex in all its unapologetic garish glory.

Crescendo then gone.

Helen’s new flat. Southend, Essex.

Helen emerges from between moving boxes like she’s hunting for something.

We can hear pigeons. She can hear pigeons. Cooing cosily in the roof above. Stop-start, stop-start. Helen is trying to figure out where it’s coming from.

Then, from Leanne and Kelly’s . . .

LeanneALEXA. AL EX A. ALEXAAAAAAAA.

Helen’s eyes widen at the Essex twang, which could raise the dead then kill them again. Dizzee Rascal’s Don’t Gas Me blares out. Helen is consumed with indignance, so plays a song on her phone – Le Valse d’Amelie off the Amelie soundtrack. There is a banging, then the sound of a mouth right up against the wall . . .

LeanneSorry, could you turn your music down please? You’re confusing Alexa and we’ve only just got her. Thank you for your understanding at this difficult time.

Hysterical laughter. So Essex. Helen obeys, incredulous.

Leanne ALEXA, PLAY DURAN DURAN. ALEXA. NOT THAT, YOU PRICK. ALEXA! PLAY DURAAAAAN DURAAAAAN.

Alexa plays Jimmy Durante, Start Off Each Day With A Song. Helen is momentarily relieved.

She breathes deep, grabs a bottle of wine from a Sunday Times Wine Club cardboard box and goes to their flat.

HelenWhen they go low, we go high.

Kelly appears. Alexa is now of course playing Bollywood classic Didi Tera Devar Deewana.

HelenHi.

KellyHi.

LeanneSHITTING HELL, ALEXA, YOU NUTJOB.

HelenUm.

KellyAlright? Just moved in?

HelenYeah.

KellyCool. Thought I could hear some lads struggling on the stairs. Big wardrobe, huh?

HelenNo. But lots of books. (Beat.) I just don’t think they were very fit.

KellyMaybe they’re driving home having heart attacks and causing fatal accidents now, all because of you.

HelenHA! Funny. Oh god. Is it. No. Anyway. So I just thought I’d introduce myself.

Pause.

KellyAre you going to start it off or shall I?

Helen (flustered)Sorry. The music is . . . I’m. Yes. I’m Helen.

KellyHi, Helen. I’m Kelly.

Leanne WHAT’S WITH THE BOLLYWOOD, ALEXA YOU MAD BINT.

KellyAnd that’s Leanne. She’s not racist, she’s just excited.

Leanne ALEXA, YOU NUMBSKULL. GET. ME. A PESHWARI NAAN.

KellyAnd hungry.

HelenAnyway, I just thought I’d say hello as we’re probably going to be passing in the hallway a lot.

The music gets quieter. Lean...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Stiletto Beach
• Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch production team
• Love & Thanks
• Dedication
• Characters
• Act One
• Act Two
• Methuen Drama Student Editions
• Methuen Drama Modern Plays
• eCopyright