Caryl Churchill Plays: Three by Caryl Churchill

By Caryl Churchill

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I know you don’t like me phoning the office. Mother-in-law. PAUL. That’s perfectly all right. If it’s important. MOTHER-IN-LAW. June wasn’t home and I thought … I think I’ve got your queen. PAUL. No. MOTHER-IN-LAW. Ah. Pause. So will you be coming to us for the weekend? PAUL. If I bring some work. She moves. MOTHER-IN-LAW. Check. He moves. PAUL. Check. MOTHER-IN-LAW. Could that be mate? PAUL. I think so. He picks up the telephone, dials. First Berlin, then Boulogne. He puts the telephone down. MOTHER-IN-LAW.

I’ll go to the meeting but I won’t go tonight. I can’t bear to sit there – ladies … my name, Yvonne … alcoholic. I’m not an alcoholic. Anyway, tonight I’ve got to paint the window frame. She goes back to her bed. F. Done it. G? Gloss paint. She gets up, takes off her housecoat, finds a pot of paint and a paint brush. She goes out of the room and reappears with a pair of paint-bespattered dungarees. She kicks off her shoes, slips off her dress. She is wearing a slip underneath. She opens a cupboard.

You there? … so I told him straight. I said, quick as a flash … COLIN comes in. Pause. Ooh, new trousers? Fit you ever so snug. COLIN. My office. Now. MARCIA. Get me a cup of tea, be a sweetie. Continental Lingerie. I’m afraid you can’t. He’s having a meeting with a lady friend. ’ MARCIA gestures ‘You’. ’ MARCIA. Yes, sir. But he won’t want to speak to you. He told me himself he doesn’t care what happens to the firm. He’s only interested in – COLIN goes out. MARCIA. Putting you through. ) You there?

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