Endless thanks to the following kind people:
Ellie, Caitlin and Sophie of Poor Michelle for giving me the space to make the show happen.
Everyone who helped us debut the show in Edinburgh, especially Hannah Azuonye, Jon Matthews, Weibke Green and our friends at Feat. Theatre. A special shout out to Georgia Artus at Vintage Vibes.
Extra thanks to Jon for reading the script countless times and still being nice about it.
The extended Gauge family for their food/house/car/emotional support throughout the process. Also my family for being wonderful and Nanny for being an inspirational woman.
Jamie Eastlake, Jo Langdon, Chris Haydon, Jethro Compton, Charlie Beaumont, Henry Shields, Gilly and Nigel Anderson and Michael Jinks.
Ben Giles for being roped in big time and not complaining.
And biggest thanks of all to Ellie Gauge who made Violet enjoyable from start to finish and whom I wish to make plays with forever.
First published in 2019 by Oberon Books Ltd
521 Caledonian Road, London N7 9RH
Tel: +44 (0) 20 7607 3637 / Fax: +44 (0) 20 7607 3629
e-mail:
www.oberonbooks.com
Copyright Bebe Sanders, 2018
Bebe Sanders is hereby identified as author of this play in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted her moral rights.
All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before commencement of rehearsal to Bebe Sanders c/o Oberon Books, 521 Caledonian Road, London N7 9RH (). No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained, and no alterations may be made in the title or the text of the play without the authors prior written consent.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or binding or by any means (print, electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
PB ISBN: 9781786827180
E ISBN: 9781786827234
Cover design by Jethro Compton
Printed and bound by 4EDGE Limited, Hockley, Essex, UK.
eBook conversion by Lapiz Digital Services, India.
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Printed on FSC accredited paper
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Violet was first performed in August 2018 at Zoo
Southside, Edinburgh with the following creative team:
Writer/performer: Bebe Sanders
Director/producer/designer: Ellie Gauge
Production manager: Ben Giles
and at The Bunker Theatre, London in January 2019:
Writer/performer: Bebe Sanders
Director/producer/designer: Ellie Gauge
Production manager: Ben Giles
Sound designer: Julian Starr
Lighting designer: Ed Theakston
Characters
BERTIE
Female, late 20s.
Lines spoken by Violet should be spoken in a Devonian/West Country accent.
Contents
[1]
A change is as good as a rest. Thats what they say, isnt it? A change, is as good as a rest. But what they really mean is like, a haircut. Or a new duvet cover. Or, I dunno, a spin class.
Do you know how much a spin class costs in London? Millions of pounds. Seriously. Same with yoga. And as far as Im aware no one found enlightenment via sexy, expensive activewear and Namaste hashtags.
I tried early nights, I tried journaling my feelings. I bought a notebook especially FOR journaling my feelings. Has a peach with a face on it saying Life is Peachy. But its not, is it? Thats just Paperchase doing marketing. Its just a lie. I tried a pot plant. Genuinely bought a pot plant and put it next to my bed in the hope it was physically going to remove the sadness from my head whilst I slept through photosynthesis or whatever. But also if Im being totally honest because it would look good on Instagram if I ever took a photo of my bed. Because maybe thats the answer. I tried eating kale, meditation apps, all of it. All of it costs money and none of it works.
And the truth is I dont have the energy, for any of it. I want to, but I just dont.
And you know, yeah, maybe this stuff works elsewhere, but in London, in London everything is so much harder. Its like sludge. Its thick and heavy and full of people struggling against each other, in order to try and get something, and no one is managing it and its hard and its lonely and its really, really expensive and Just trying to do the day feels pointless and impossible.
And then I got fired. Literally just walked into the office one day and Karen tells me theyre downsizing and wont be needing me anymore. Just like that like, Im sorry Karen, Im aware that all I do is eat the staff biscuits and moan about you behind your back but that doesnt mean you can fire me. If Im not an editorial assistant Who am I?
And then I mean its like dominoes isnt it. So then Im not working, well I get a job in a bar, and I am such a waste of space, like, just this horrible ball of misery. I am twenty-seven years old why am I working in a bar? So Im coming back to my boyfriend Tommy at weird hours with a shitty negative attitude and clothes that smell like B.O. and beer, and so obviously he dumps me. I mean, its fine. I was actually going to do it anyway, its not a big deal he just got there before me but it does mean I have to move out of the flat I was sharing rent on which then basically makes me homeless too, and
Yeah, I could have moved in with my mum but I mean her endless stream of boyfriends makes it abundantly clear that her priorities are very much elsewhere. The latest one walks around in harem pants with no shirt on and really, really needs to cut his toenails. Doesnt pay rent but spends all day cooking dahl in her kitchen and calls me sweetheart. No thanks. Id rather not be a part of that.
So Ive come down here. Because sure. A change is as good as a rest, but actually a rest sounds better.
Why here exactly? Couldnt tell you. I just needed to get away. I needed to feel like I could be somewhere where no one knew who I was.
Also my cousin is away for the summer so I could rent her flat. And by rent I mean live in. Without paying.
The house is very nice, its I mean, its a bit Shes a fan of a shabby chic slogan wall decal. Put it that way.
Sticky fingers, muddy paws, and hearts full of love
Its sweet I guess. I mean Jesus shes only three years older than me and has a mortgage, a kid, a husband and a John Lewis sofa, so who am I to judge her?
Its a five minute walk to the beach. A two minute walk to the town. Theres a caf, theres a supermarket. I am going to have to get a job so tomorrow Ill walk in and hand my CV out. Like a cretin. Ill probably end up behind a bar again wont I?
That feeling that I was living in the wrong life it was there. I just couldnt hear it over all the noise. It was like a mosquito in the room, the sound wasnt exactly loud, but it was there, and it was persistent, and it was becoming impossible to sleep through.