Adult Supervision

Sarah Rutherford

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781783195589
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

'I keep trying to find something a bit exotic in my family tree. Best I could do was a great-grandma who looks a bit tanned in the old photos.' US election night 2008. A smart inner-London 'village'. For white ex-lawyer Natasha, adoptive mother to two Ethiopian children, tonight is the ideal opportunity to get to know the small handful of other 'mothers of children of colour' at their smart private school. But as the Obamatinis start to flow, the middle-class veneer begins to crack and Natasha's carefully planned social occasion quickly unravels. Lifting the lid on a stew of racial tensions and social embarrassments, this is a hilarious, provocative and brilliantly insightful look at the new 'Beige Britain'.

ACT ONE

Around midnight, 4 November 2008. A luxurious, immaculate and very masculine ‘media room’ at the top of NATASHA’s Victorian family house. A few completely incongruous African touches: the odd throw, maybe a propped-up painting. An oversized exotic floral arrangement in a vase. But from the way the room is decorated, it’s clear that it was supposed to be starkly minimalist. There is a tray of cocktails and an array of beautifully presented African dishes.

Loud music: ‘So What’ by Pink:

‘I got a brand new attitude
And I’m gonna wear it tonight
I’m gonna get in trouble
I wanna start a fight
Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
I wanna start a fight
Na-na-na-na, na-na, na
I wanna start a fight’

As NATASHA bustles in the music shuts off abruptly, replaced by TV commentary blaring out the US election night coverage.

She is carrying a framed photo of two beautiful black children, and huge African terracotta sculpture of a child.

With difficulty, she puts down the photo then tries out various positions for the artefact, while glancing up regularly at a huge TV screen which hangs on the fourth wall.

IZZY, dressed in very girlish pyjamas and wearing a Barack Obama mask, creeps in silently, comes up behind NATASHA and pinches her bum.

IZZY: Yes we CAN!

It’s a two-stage shock for NATASHA. First, she leaps out of her skin and drops the ornament, which smashes into a million pieces. Then, she turns to face a masked figure in pyjamas, which almost gives her a heart attack.

NATASHA: (Grabbing the remote, muting the TV.) Aaaah! Oh! Jesus Christ, Izzy!

IZZY: (Unmasking.) Oh god! Oh god Tash I’m sorry! Oh God I’m an idiot. Shit. Shitting shit.

NATASHA: Oh god Izzy have you any idea what this cost?

IZZY: I’ll pay for it obviously I’ll pay for it, I’ll replace it, I’m so sorry Tash ... God, this room!

NATASHA: It’s from Addis Ababa!

IZZY: Oh. I’m so sorry, it must have meant a lot to you …

NATASHA: Well there’s nothing we can do now.

IZZY: Maybe somebody could, you know, glue it back together again ...

NATASHA gives IZZY a withering look.

Yes, well, no, probably not. Oh god.

NATASHA: Izzy. You’re wearing pyjamas.

IZZY: Yeah! It’s a pyjama party!

It’s not a pyjama party.

But you said! We talked about it!

NATASHA: (Attempting to clear up.) You talked about it.

IZZY: But it’s such a good idea! Look, I brought … a midnight feast! I’ve never been to a party this late before!

IZZY tips out the contents of her bag: apparently a sweetshop’s entire supply of junk. NATASHA stops what she’s doing, looks in utter despair at the chaos IZZY has managed to introduce in only a few seconds in her home.

Flying saucers, sherbert dibdabs, remember them? Marshmallows! I thought we could snuggle up and have cocoa or something. It’s such a good ice breaker, you know, seeing as we don’t know the others so well.

NATASHA: Izzy. I gave up sugar six months ago, you know that. Mood swings, binges! I’m doing cocktails and an Ethiopian buffet. Look. Can we just put your ... stuff in ... um ... (She casts around for something. There is only a black binbag.) ... here. For now. (She stuffs them away behind the sofa, well out of sight.)

IZZY: Oh. Right. Ok. Right, let me ... (She tries to help NATASHA clear up the mess from the breakage, but just manages to get in the way.)

NATASHA: Look – just – Go and get the brush and dustpan, will you?

IZZY: Right!

NATASHA: Top of the cellar.

IZZY: (Re-masking on her way out.) You got it!

NATASHA: Oh for god’s sake. You didn’t have to black up as well.

IZZY turns back, crestfallen. Takes the mask off, looks at it with dismay. Goes.

NATASHA quickly and silently shuts the door again behind IZZY. Breathes deeply, centres herself. Surveys the room. Goes back to picking up the broken pieces.

Suddenly MO bursts in, brandishing a baby monitor.

MO: Mummies one, babies nil! (Sees the mess.) Woah! What happened in here?

NATASHA: It’s fine, everything’s fine, just a little ... you know ...

Mo, could you shut the door?

MO: Our two little ASBO contenders down there are dead to the world. Like this. (She does an unattractive ‘sleeping face’.) Snotty little savages.

NATASHA: (Quietly, smiling.) Not ... savages.

MO: Thanks for letting Eve stay over, it’s such an adventure. Where’s your friend in the nightwear? I saw her out the window and let her in, hope that’s ok.

NATASHA: Gone to get something to clear this up. (Looks helplessly at the mess again.) God! This is ... not a good start.

MO: Something precious?

NATASHA: I think I’ll be better if I don’t talk about it.

MO: Ooh. All right. Ok. Well. Great idea, this.

NATASHA: Oh! Drink. ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Dedication
• Characters
• Act One
• Act Two