You Are Not Alone

A Tale of Twelve Speeches-2

(PAUSE) Yes, Ariel’s – errm, well, Ariel’s Ariel I suppose. (PAUSE) Oh, you know. Exams. Busy not working for them, if you catch my drift. Shouldn’t say that too loudly, she could eavesdrop for England that one, across the Grand Canyon if need be. (PAUSE) Yes, Ariel could. (PAUSE) Eavesdrop! (PAUSE) Across the Grand Canyon. (PAUSE) Oh, don’t worry. (PAUSE) Yes, not my best, I’ll admit.

(PAUSE) Well, I am calling for a reason actually, Mr Fitch. It’s about Ralph. (PAUSE) Yes, Ralph your son, which other Ralph would I be talking about? (LAUGHS) Oh you’re a funny one, aren’t you?

(PAUSE) So, rather a complicated situation. But to cut a long story sideways, he’s in hospital. (PAUSE) No, he’s not okay – that’s why he’s in hospital. (PAUSE) Our nearest, the Wetherington, yes. (PAUSE) So, he went running, and he seemed to be taking rather a long time, and then he was taking a hell of a long time, and then he just didn’t come back at all. (PAUSE) Exactly, I was worried sick. (PAUSE) And eventually we got this knock on our door. (PAUSE) A policeman. (PAUSE) Heart attack. (PAUSE) Yes, a heart attack. (PAUSE) Yes, a heart attack – Ralph had a heart attack. (PAUSE) Sorry, Mr Fitch – no easy way to say it. (PAUSE) He’s in a coma. (PAUSE) A coma, that’s right. (PAUSE) A couple of days now. (PAUSE) It took them a while to find us. (PAUSE) Cos they just had this man they were trying to save, and they didn’t know who he was. (PAUSE) He just collapsed you see, no identification. (PAUSE) No one takes their passport when they go running, Mr Fitch. (PAUSE) Not even a driving licence.

SPEECH EIGHT: THE NURSE

From Max goes AWOL10

by Terri Orbison

Joy

Imagine a ward with twenty two beds

And a private room just off the corridor with a man in a coma

And sitting in that room

A wife struggling to keep it together

And next to her, her impassive daughter sitting looking at her phone

And me, the nurse, trying to jolly them along

“It’s ever so common for people to come round

Just like that, start talking, even after several days, or longer”

And as I said this, another woman pops her head round the door

Into the private room, and sees the man, prostrate, all plugged in

And puts her hand to her mouth and disappears

Back into the corridor

Where we hear sobbing, stifled

And the comatose man’s wife says, “Who the f**k was that?”

And her daughter says, “How should I know?”

And the wife whose name is Camille jumps out of her seat

And we can hear the conversation

From the corridor, just like a radio play

“Excuse me, yes you, I want a word with you

How do you know my husband?”

“I don’t know him – not really”

“So why are you crying?”

“Because I saw him collapse, I suppose

I was in my garden when he went down

And I called 999, I waited with him till the ambulance came”

“That’s very nice of you, but what are you doing here?

What gives you the right to be crying outside our room if you don’t know him?”

“I really can’t say…”

“Well I can, I know why he kept going running

And it wasn’t about keeping fit, not really

He was having an affair

With some local floozy, and now I know who she is”

SPEECH NINE: THE DAUGHTER

From The Secrets Your Mother Never Told You11

by Anthony Simpson

Ariel

Sometimes I’ll hurt myself. Just to make myself feel something. I’ll get into a bath. That I know is gonna be way way way too hot. And I submerge myself. Until I’m in pain all over. Sometimes I have to jump out cos I think I’m gonna faint. And I stand in front of the mirror looking like a lobster.

Or I’ll stick a drawing pin into my arm. Let the blood drip drip drip onto the floor. I did that once and the wound went septic. Told my mum I’d accidentally walked into a barbed wire fence. She said, “How can you accidentally walk into a barbed wire fence?” And I said, “It happens all the time.”

She’s been going on about betrayal. Betrayal, betrayal, betrayal. Imagine you’re in a lesson. And it’s lasted for two days without a break. And your teacher’s just wittering on and on and on. Well that’s what it’s been like. Except it’s my mum wittering on about betrayal.

“You know the worst time to find out you’ve been betrayed, Ariel? The very worst time? When they’re in a coma and you can’t even confront them.

It’s a bit like dying. You don’t think it will ever happen to you. Only other women marry men who betray them. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. I’m not sure I’m feeling anything. I’m certainly not feeling worried about him.”

So, finally! Finally, I have something in common with my mum. Cos I can’t feel anything either. For myself, or for her being betrayed. Or for him lying all hooked up to his stupid machine.

I wish I was in some extreme situation. Like fighting in a war. Or being shot while carrying out some attack on behalf of Isis. Or being struck down by the Ebola Virus. I just want to be in pain so I can feel something.

SPEECH TEN: THE CLEANER

From Some Of The Things We Do For Money12

by Sabrina Bedi

Christopher

This all took place so quickly that it’s pretty hard to credit

If you’d have told me what would happen I’d have wondered why you’d said it

Cos I’d always been a good boy, who was known as kind and thoughtful

And I was careful to ensure that what I did was always lawful

And if I’d strayed at all then my transgressions were quite minimal

But within a few short hours I had morphed into a criminal

I was on a well-earned break in the hospital canteen

Having been working like a dog around the life support machines

I’d seen her on the ward and she looked so kind and gentle

But what she then suggested was absolutely mental

She sidled up quite slowly and then sitting at my table

She said she needed help disconnecting a small cable

She said she’d make it worth my while, she wasn’t being funny

She offered me what I’d describe as a f*****g lot of money

In short what she was asking was whether I’d be willing

To finish off my evening shift with a dash of ruthless killing

She explained that Ralph her husband, who’d had a cardiac arrest

Was a complete and utter s**t-bag, a philanderer at best

She’d only just discovered this, and was now propelled to action

And as a natural consequence, his future was a fraction

We went right through her cunning plan while my cappuccino cooled

She talked through the logistics and in murder I was schooled

I hope you won’t be hard on me, I’m not a natural sinner

I’m just the kind of person you’d invite for Sunday dinner.

SPEECH ELEVEN: THE HOSPITAL MANAGER

From Sandwich13

by Dr Baljinder Patel

Penelope

These things always happen when I’m having a Toblerone. Or a hot cross bun. Or a pastry. I must have these little treats to keep me going through the day. I keep a little stash of chocolate in my desk. A secret stash. This time I was eating an apple turnover I’d just bought in the canteen. The Chief Operating Officer rushed in. As he took a deep breath, I pushed a stray lump of apple from the corner of my upper lip into my mouth.

“Penelope?” Peter said. I looked up. He seemed genuinely upset. As if he might burst into tears.

“What is it, Peter?” I was conscious that I might still have crumbs around my lips.

“There’s been a terrible accident. We’re going to have to manage this very carefully.”

“What sort of terrible accident?” I said, inspecting my face with my pocket mirror.

“One of our patients died, as a result, it seems, of a cleaner unplugging his life support machine.”

“Oh s**t,” I said, putting my pocket mirror back into my bag. “How on earth did that happen?”

“The cleaner is new. And he apparently disconnected the machine in order to plug his floor polisher into a socket by the bed.”

“Oh, bollocks.”

“What are we going to say?” Peter asked. “We’re going to have to put out some kind of statement.”

“We need to conduct a thorough investigation, Peter. We need to find out exactly how this happened. We need a blow by blow account, including what training he’d received.”

“I realise that. But we’re going to have to say something in the meantime. Perhaps along the lines of, ‘Our firm aim will be to put in place a series of actions to ensure that such an event will never occur again at any time in the future for any other patient.’”

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m not going to sign off a press release when I don’t know what happened.”

“How about this then? ‘The incident is the subject of likely litigation, so we’re unable to comment?’”

“Even worse. It makes us sound totally heartless.”

SPEECH TWELVE: THE CPS PROSECUTOR

From File14

by Anthony Simpson

Helena

We have heard how Ralph Fitch died because the life support machine upon which his life depended was accidentally unplugged by Christopher Norton, a cleaner who was only three days into his job at the Wetherington Hospital. Mr Norton, we have argued, received inadequate training. We have heard a great deal about the training which he did receive, and it is for you, members of the jury, to determine how adequate it was.

And yes, members of the jury, it is true that the defendant, Ms Penelope Clarke, has apologised unreservedly – both personally, and on behalf of the trust – for the failures that led to the tragic death of Ralph Fitch, who was so cruelly cut down in the prime of his life by this catastrophic error.

But you must remember, an apology is only an apology. It may go some way towards helping the Fitch family come to terms with the loss of their very much-loved family member. But it doesn’t unfortunately get Ms Clarke off the hook when it comes to criminal breaches of health and safety law, should you decide that there have been such criminal breaches.

We have argued that a series of management failings led up to Mr Fitch’s death, including a failure to control risks, and failures in planning. If you feel that we have not properly made out these arguments, then you must return a verdict of not guilty. And if you are unsure, then you must also return a verdict of not guilty.

But if in your judgement there have been serious systematic failings that led to Mr Fitch’s death, failures that were the responsibility of the defendant, then you must return a verdict of guilty.

A guilty verdict in itself cannot ease the enormity of the Fitch family’s loss and pain. But it can ensure that Justice has been properly served. And it is for this reason that the trial has been conducted, and why you the jury hold this great responsibility within your hands.

1 In order to achieve this narrative feat, some of the characters who appear in the speeches have had their names changed, along with other incidental details. This has been done with the express permission of the playwrights concerned. There was only one writer who refused consent for me to make the necessary amendment to her unremarkable one-woman play set in a mortuary. I will spare her shame by not naming her.

2 This allegorical drama about a wealthy banker’s fall from grace is, of course, about the demise of capitalism. The production I saw gained additional power through its performance in the vaults of a defunct financial institution. Rereading it, I wonder whether we are witnessing the actual death of our way of life now.