Non fiction

A No Brainer

By
Ruth Ellen Kilner

Inspired by the life and times of Derek Hutchinson.

ACT I

Prologue

Tommy lays in bed onstage, tossing and turning. He
throws the duvet from side to side, visibly
uncomfortable. He returns to stillness and seems
to have drifted off. After approx 20 seconds, he
starts to stir again. The lighting is dim.
Audio soundbites (live or pre-recorded) play which
are implicit of the sounds in Tommy’s mind.

CHILD’S VOICE
Don’t you love us anymore Daddy? Daddy, don’t you love
us anymore? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy, don’t you love us
anymore?

Tommy moves to sit on the side of the bed and places
his head in his hands. He takes some deep breaths
and gets back into bed and lies down.

MAN’S VOICE
How would you like to think you could be responsible
for the deaths of your children?

Tommy groans and moves around in the bed.

MAN’S VOICE
How would you like to think you could be responsible
for the deaths of one of your children?

A loud buzzing, burning noise is heard; similar to
a tattooist’s needle whirring.
The light changes to a red tint.
The buzzing gets louder.

CHILD’S VOICE
Are you coming home soon Daddy? Don’t you love us
anymore Daddy?

Tommy sits bolt upright in bed.

TOMMY
Stop it you’re gonna kill me ya bastard!

Tommy lies back down and is heard sobbing.

Betty (his wife) enters with a tray containing
tea and toast. She sits beside him on the bed and
takes his hand in hers.

BETTY
Bad one was it love?

TOMMY
Aye. Well, just t’usual.

BETTY
There’s some tea ’ere for ya.

Tommy sits up in bed and takes a sip of the tea.

BETTY
I’ll leave ya to come round, love.

TOMMY
Aye.

Betty kisses his head and then leaves. The lights dip to black.

Scene 1

A modern day kitchen-come-living room with table,
chairs and worktop. Tommy sits on a sofa in front of
the kitchen area rolling a cigarette. Betty is
baking in the kitchen.

BETTY
How many more times am I gonna have to make you this
bleeding Corned Beef pie?

TOMMY
I’ve told you, love. It’s all I fancy.

Betty busies herself rolling the pastry out,
lining the pie tin, and sighing repeatedly.

TOMMY
What time’s solicitor comin?

BETTY
2ish she said. Come all the way from Barnsley.

TOMMY
Barnsley? I thought they were all pikies round there.
She’d better be a proper solicitor!

Betty sighs and slaps him over the head with a
teatowel.

BETTY
Ya can’t say that, you daft pillock. Give over will ya, she’s not gonna help you if you go ‘round insulting her.

Tommy laughs and walks off stage left.

TOMMY
Just nipping out back for a ciggie then love.

BETTY
Well don’t be long she’ll be ‘ere soon.

TOMMY
Ok, Babe.

The doorbell rings and Betty answers the door,
stage right, wiping the flour from her hands onto
her apron. JENNY enters; young woman with a
briefcase.

JENNY
Something smells good!

BETTY
It’s ’is bleedin’ corned beef pie. He won’t eat owt
else.

JENNY
Oh, right.

BETTY
Can I get you a cup of tea, love?

JENNY
That’d be lovely, milk no sugar please.

BETTY
He’s just out the back having a cig he’ll be back in a
sec - go through if you like.

JENNY
Oh, thank you.

Jenny walks through into the sitting room area and
sits down. Tommy walks back in and stops in his
tracks to take stock of Jenny.

TOMMY
Are you t’socilitor?

Jenny stands up to shake his hand.

JENNY
Yes I’m Jenny Wright; pleased to meet you Mr. Jenkins.
TOMMY
Bit young aren’t ya?

JENNY
Yes, I am young.

TOMMY
And are you fully qualificated?

JENNY
Yes, I am.

TOMMY
Right you are, pal.

The phone rings and Betty answers it. Tommy shouts
through to her.

TOMMY
I’m not ’ere love.

There is a silence for approximately 5 seconds
before Jenny starts rummaging in her disorganised
briefcase for papers. Tommy sits down on the sofa
and starts rolling another fag.

TOMMY
She’s an old biddy, ’er.

JENNY
Who?

TOMMY
T’missus.

Jenny laughs uncomfortably. Betty comes through
with Jenny’s drink and passes it to her.

BETTY
Take no notice of ’im, love.

Jenny smiles at Betty.

BETTY
Am I staying or am I going?

TOMMY
What do you reckon Jen?

BETTY
Oh don’t mind me, I need to go pick up little man in a
few minutes anyway. Oh, I didn’t tell you, big bro got
’is results.
TOMMY
And?

BETTY
A’s.

TOMMY
He he he, grand that is, grand. Mustard that is. Have
you seen me little pal?

Jenny shakes her head. Tommy gets up to get a photo
album.

TOMMY
15 of ’em I’ve got; grandkids. They all play rugby, I
go to every training session. And this one, he’s a reet
brainbox an’ all.

JENNY
You must be proud of them.

TOMMY
Eeh they make me so proud.

BETTY
See ya then.

TOMMY
Bye Babe.

Betty leaves.

TOMMY
So what do you do when you’re not soliciting?

Jenny laughs awkwardly.

JENNY
Erm, well, my Wife and I...

Tommy interrupts, shocked.

TOMMY
Wife?

JENNY
Yes.

TOMMY
You’re not one of them munchers are you?
JENNY
Sorry?

TOMMY
I said, are you a carpet muncher?

JENNY
I have a civil partner, and I find that term quite offensive Mr...

TOMMY
Oh, give over, I’m only messin’. She’s always tellin’ us off for not being ‘PC.’ I ‘ave no filter you see love; I just say what I think. I can’t help it.

JENNY
Oh, ok then Mr. Jenkins, but I’d rather you didn’t call us that again.

An awkward silence ensues.

TOMMY
So which one of you is the fella?

JENNY
Well, we’re both women.

Tommy shakes his head, shocked and appalled.

TOMMY
Both women, I don’t know. You see, to me, it’s not
right. I met Stephen Fry once you know.

JENNY
Did you? What was he like?

TOMMY
He had a handshake like a wet lettuce. I just can’t be
doing wi’ these queer fellas.

Jenny ignores his comment.

JENNY
Where did you meet him?

TOMMY
It was at the National Mind Awards. I won an award for
me work up at the gardens.

JENNY
The gardens?

TOMMY
It’s a memorial garden for all the lads and lasses who
were buried in unmarked graves up at the cracker
factory.

Jenny is puzzled.

TOMMY
Loony bin. Cracker factory. Asylum, you might call it.

JENNY
Oh, I see. How many people were buried there?

TOMMY
Two and a half thousand. Poured quicklime on the bodies
so they could fit more of ’em in the graves.

Jenny shuffles uncomfortably.

TOMMY
You ’avin a ciggie?

JENNY
Didn’t you just have one?

TOMMY
Bleedin’ ’ell, you’re worse than ’er.

JENNY
Oh, go on then.

TOMMY
You want one rolling?

JENNY
No it’s ok, I have some here.

TOMMY
Alreet, come ’ed.

Jenny gets her cigarettes and looks at her
briefcase, perplexed at how the appointment is
going.
On his walk towards the area stage-left, Tommy stops
at the kitchen area to look at the corned beef
pie.

TOMMY
Look at that, beautiful, all sorts in there.

Tommy walks over to the side of stage left and
lights his fag. As Jenny walks towards him, Tommy is
flapping his arms wildly.

TOMMY
Get off me, ya bastard. Go on, scran.

JENNY
Y’alright Mr. Jenkins?

TOMMY
I can’t be doing with wasps. But bees - me and the
babes sit on trampoline just watching wasps - and we’ve
even got a little plant growing there that me and ‘im
planted. When he were little we used to sit here and watch planes going over and I used to tell him they
were delivering babies. He used to say “Grandad, that
one there, do you think it’s a boy or a girl.”

Tommy laughs.

TOMMY
We used to crawl through grass and look at all insects
- they wouldn’t hurt animals, none of ‘em would.

Tommy takes a long hard drag on his cigarette and
stares at Jenny.

TOMMY
Do you reckon you can do owt for me?

JENNY
Mr. Jenkins... Is it alright if I call you Tommy?

TOMMY
Aye.

JENNY
Let’s go and sit down.

TOMMY
Right you are, pal.

Tommy and Jenny move back over to the sofa.

JENNY
Ok, Tommy. Do you know what I mean if I refer to the
statute of limitations in a legal context?

TOMMY
I’m not thick, lass. I’ve done me own research an’ all.

JENNY
Ok, can you tell me what you understand by it?

TOMMY
It means it’s too late.

Jenny picks up one of her pieces of her paper and
stares at it.

JENNY
Well not necessarily. I’m looking into lots of
different options at the moment so don’t give up hope.
To get compensation for an event like this is
unprecendented after such a long period of time. But
that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

Tommy starts rolling another fag.

TOMMY
Right you are, pal.

JENNY
I’ll do my best for you.

TOMMY
You’re alright you Jen. I don’t know why you went into
soliciting. You could be a beauty queen. You look like
that.. erm..

Tommy clicks his fingers in the air and massages the
side of his head.

JENNY
Who?

TOMMY
Hold up, I’m just consulting me files.

JENNY
I’m a bit worried what you might say.

TOMMY
That’s it, Chezza. Cheryl Cole. Did you know you’ve got
traditional Greek features?

JENNY
Oh, thank you.

TOMMY
I hope your muncher knows how lucky she is. Eeh, by
gum. Civil partner, I don’t know.

JENNY
I’ve read all your records, and I can’t quite believe
what you’ve been through. It doesn’t seem real. I can’t
quite understand why you’ve left it almost fourty
years.

TOMMY
Well, I couldn’t remember.

Jenny looks at Tommy.

TOMMY
It wasn’t until about 20 years after that I realised
what’d happened.

JENNY
I just can’t understand why you didn’t try to take
legal action sooner.

TOMMY
I can’t tell you how much I wish I hadn’t missed me
chance. One of t’big wigs at hospital told me that, in
today’s terms, my claim would be worth millions of
pounds. But I’ve blown it.

JENNY
Are you angry?

TOMMY
I’ve got a minutes’ worth of pure murder left in me,
but the rest of me is just thankful I’m still around to
be with me little pals.

JENNY
Do you think about what happened?

TOMMY
I have flashbacks 14-15 times a day. I can’t not think
about it.

JENNY
Do you have any therapy?

TOMMY
The thing you’ve got to understand, Jen, is that I was
never mentally ill. I don’t trust anyone near me now.

JENNY
I can’t get my head around these files of yours. Can you tell me what happened, Tommy?

Tommy laughs.

TOMMY
I haven’t spoken about it properly for years.

JENNY
You don’t have to.

TOMMY
No it’s alright, lass. Just give me a sec’.

Tommy gets up and pours himself a Bacardi and coke
in the kitchen. He swigs the whole glass back and
then stares vacantly ahead.
Lights fade to black.
…

Ruth Ellen Kilner