Leo (into the microphone) Now. Who wrote ‘Wuthering Heights’?
George Hang on. —Leo; this is like a cup final, righ’. We’re the best two teams out o’ more than fifty nearly. It’s like the F.A. Cup. Liverpool versus Everton. Now, would you ask Ronnie Whelan a question as easy as tha’, would yeh?
Leo No.
George Then cop on, for fuck sake, will yeh. Give us a decent one.
Leo Right, —now —. How many packets of crisps do you get in a box?
Martin Oh my Jaysis.
Noel Tayto or King?
Leo (looking under the counter) Tayto.
Bertie (to his team) A ton.
Noel Too obvious.
Bertie A ton.
Angela Yeah.
Bertie writes the answer and hands the sheet back to Yvonne. Martin looks quickly around at Lorraine, as if distracted by her sobbing. This doesn’t stop her. George’s team come out of a close huddle, and George writes the answer.
George Fuckin’ better be —.
(Handing the sheet back.) There y’are, love.
Both teams look tense and worried.
Leo (to Yvonne) Now?
Yvonne (reading) A hundred.
Lorraine A hu-hundred an’ tw-twenty-two.
Leo No. Way off. Fifty-five.
Bertie (standing up) We’re nearest. We’ve won.
George No way! —Leo!?
Leo is coming out from behind the bar, and sits on Denis’s stool, enjoying himself.
Leo (as in ‘be reasonable’) Ah now.
Bertie (sitting down) It was worth a bash.
Features Another one, Leo.
Leo Who is the —
(Denis-style.) Who is the —General Secretary of the barman’s union?; The Irish National Union of Vintners, Grocers and Allied Trades Assistants.
George (to himself) Oh fuck—
Features It’s a hard one annyway.
Expressions on faces tell that no one knows the answer. They study each other’s faces and discreetly shrug, and look across at the opposition, worried.
Bertie (looking at George’s team to make sure that they don’t know the answer; to Yvonne) —Nope; don’t know.
Yvonne Good. —Oh Jesus, Sorry.
George (looking at Bertie’s team to make sure) Don’t know.
Yvonne They don’t know it.
Lorraene Y-yeah.
Leo Thank God for that now. I don’t know it meself. —I’ve a good one now though.
Noel (quietly) How many pints in a keg?
Angela (quietly) Eighty.
Leo Who was told —Who was told, ‘You’ll go down in history’?
Noel (quietly) Shite.
The teams huddle.
George Hitler, Thatcher, —Stephen Roche —Someone tha’ shot someone —
Features is trying to think of the song he’s heard those words in. He thinks, hums, and stops; hums, and stops.
Bertie Thatcher, Hitler —
Noel No. Someone yeh never heard of.
Bertie I don’t know the ones I never heard of!
Noel Yeh know wha’ I mean.
Angela He’s righ’.
Tommy The fella tha’ shot the Pope.
Bertie May —be—.
Bertie’s team argues. Features thinks of the song. He hums it through. He doesn’t believe he’s right at first.
George (about to write; looking for clearance) Lee Harvey Oswald; yeah?
Features Eh, —George.
He whispers the answer into George’s ear.
George Wha!? Fuck off, Features, will yeh.
Features sings the song into George’s ear.
Bertie Ah fuck it. Thatcher.
Noel Yeah, righ’. They don’t know it either.
Bertie (handing back the answer) Signorita.
George’s expression remains sceptical as Features whisper-sings into his ear; then —
George (writing) Fuckin’ hell, Features, —wha’.
(Handing the answer to Lorraine.) There y’are, love.
(To Features; doubtful.) Yeh sure?
Features I think —yeah.
Leo Now?
Yvonne (reading) Margaret Thatcher but it’s not spelt righ’.
Bertie’s team is about to riot.
Leo Now now.
Lorraine (reading; still sniffling) Ru-Rudolf the R-Rednosed — Reindeer.
Bertie Wha’!
The teams look to Leo; George looking particularly anxious.
Leo (after a pause; sings) You’ll go down in hiss —torreey.— Now.
George (unsure) We’ve won; have we won? We’ve won. We’ve fuckin’ won! Jesus!
George’s fists punch the air as he stands up. The team members hug one another. Yvonne joins in. Martin wolfs his pint. Bertie’s team look on, getting ready to go. Bertie looks amused. He shrugs at his team; going ‘Hey’. Noel looks very envious. Angela can’t believe what she’s seeing. Tommy shrugs when Bertie shrugs, and forces himself to smile. Groucho sings ‘Lydia’, but not too loud.
Leo (into the microphone) Time now, ladies and gentlemen, please. Ladies and gentlemen, please, we’re well past closing time now.
Sandra, beside Leo, very officiously presents George with a kettle. George kisses it, and holds it aloft like a cup. He puts the lid on his head. The others hold their kettles; delighted.
Martin (to his kettle) I’ll only boil Ballier in yeh!
Bertie claps as he stands up. He pats George’s back.
Bertie Next month, compadre.
George (thrilled) Ah, yeah. Good luck, Bertie.
Bertie and his team exit; Bertie as if on his way to the OK Corral.
Leo Time now, ladies and gentlemen, please. Ladies and gentlemen, this pub will self-destruct in five seconds.
The lights dim as George’s team and Sandra, Yvonne and Lorraine exit, shifted by Leo as he speaks into the microphone. Leo is now alone. He clears the tables, humming ‘Lydia’.
Towards the end of the scene Angela enters and stands near the wing, waiting for Leo. Leo is aware that she is there, but says and does nothing.
In the Kitchen, Briget hears ‘Lydia’ on the radio and goes over and turns it up. She loves it. She laughs. Then she has an idea: she takes her biro from the table and uses it as a moustache. The salt cellar becomes Groucho’s cigar; and Briget does a Groucho impression.
Leo walks up to Angela. He smiles, a bit shyly.
Leo Now.
Angela Now.
They exit together, and the lights in the Pub go down.
Briget does a bent-knee walk, like Groucho; going ‘La la laa — la la laa’.
Offstage, the front door slams. Briget dashes to turn down the radio. She takes the salt cellar and biro back to the table, still dashing, and sits down; and waits, looking at the door; wondering what state George is going to be in when he enters.
Briget (quietly; worried; for herself) Please God, he didn’t lose again. Please.
Lights fade.
Suggestion A large poster/notice in the foyer beside the exits on which is printed, ‘Sinclair Lewis wrote ’Elmer Gantry’.
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Roddy Doyle, Brownbread & War
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