2008 08 21

WE'RE NOT GOING BACK, ARE WE?

In the UK, DAWN and IAN roll up to Bath to meet a sister (Meryl Wetlake? Bibi Muntz?)

They go to the house and meet a knackered, dishevelled man called MAXLEY RABBETT. There are stacks of books and wine bottles lined up everywhere. It’s a middle class tip.

MAXLEY makes it clear he knows her father is not her real father. From the way he talks about her taste in music, her fashion sense and hobbies etc. DAWN and IAN assume that MAXLEY is MERYL’s husband.

He says MERYL’s upstairs putting on makeup. He says she always takes ages and, after considerable shouting/cursing up the stairs, he goes up and returns with her. She is a shade under 3 years old (and covered in childishly applied makeup).

DAWN
Meryl, darling. This isn’t your dad. Your dad’s a sperm donor.

MERYL is shy and cuddles MAXLEY.

MAXLEY
I knew it’d hit her hard. But she’s young and resilient. She’ll forget in time. Besides, she’s got a lot on. She’s busy doing her grade four.

He points to a Fender Stratocaster next to her potty.

DAWN
Where’s her mother?

MAXLEY
Shania Wetlake? Don’t ask. All she ever wanted was a child. And it was the only thing I couldn’t give her. Sex. Not, you know, properly. With me being the way I am. So she went to the clinic. Browsed the freezer section and nine months later Meryl was born. Within a week Shania had gone. She said the baby didn’t feel truly hers. She said the frozen sperm had made her insides cold forever.

IAN
Where did she go?

MAXLEY
Over the road. She’s living with Terry Bibb. They’ve got twins. I won’t let Meryl play with them. Too confusing.

DAWN
Maxley you’re doing a brilliant job. You’re looking after our sister. And you’ve got help now. There are 26 of us willing to pitch in.

IAN
Well, 22. Snowy’s dead. Carston’s dead, Jean Jamboneau was bored by our philistinism and, er, Eenie Mancini isn’t suitable, really. The hammers.

DAWN
Well there’s a lot of us. We’re Meryl’s family and we’re sort of your family as well.

MAXLEY
So take her! Take her to Coventry! Bath is no place for a little girl. Give her the life I never can. Allow her to meet twins. Show her that women can be nice. Teach her how to drive and put on makeup. Take her with you!

DAWN
Ian?

IAN
Is she still, er, breastfeeding or anything?

MAXLEY
No. She’s toilet trained. She’ll need a good school in a couple of years. I’ve got money. I’ll pay.

IAN
Well, we could do it. I mean she can’t stay here, can she?

MAXLEY
Brilliant. I’ll pack her stuff. Oh and I’ve got something else for you.

MAXLEY gets a Stanley knife out and slices a big cut out of the living room carpet in front of the fireplace. He extracts a folded piece of paper.

MAXLEY
It’s a list of all Meryl’s other siblings. Getting this cost a good man his job and nearly his life. It’s all of your family. Every Jones.

DAWN
We’ve got that already thanks.

MAXLEY looks disappointed. He pushes the paper back under the torn carpet and tries to pinch the edges together.

FADE OUT AND IN

MAXLEY is packing bin liners of CDs, books and kiddy clothes into the purple car.

IAN
Have you got a car seat?

MAXLEY
No, I don’t drive.

DAWN
We can’t take her without one. It’s the law.

MAXLEY
Coventry’s only 160 miles. She’ll sleep on your lap.

DAWN
We’re going. We’re off to get a car seat. We’ll be back in a bit.

They drive off, leaving Maxley and Meryl outside the house.

IAN
We’re not going back, are we?

DAWN
No. That child’s had too much happen to it. It’s best off at home. Besides it was a bit too old. I’d miss the whole baby experience.

IAN has been rummaging in the bags. He brushes aside a load of toddler clothes and holds up some CDs.

IAN
At least we’ve got some great driving music out of it.

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