Kinahan - Rathmines Road

Deirdre Kinahan RATHMINES
ROAD NICK HERN BOOKS London www.nickhernbooks.co.uk ContentsRathmines Road was produced by Fishamble and the Abbey Theatre. It previewed at the Civic Theatre, Tallaght, as part of Dublin Theatre Festival on 4 October 2018, before opening at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on the Peacock Stage, on 9 October 2018. The cast was as follows:

SANDRA	Karen Ardiff
EDDIE	Charlie Bonner
LINDA	Janet Moran
RAY	Enda Oates
DAIRNE	Rebecca Root
Director	Jim Culleton
Set and Costume Designer	Maree Kearns
Lighting Designer	Kevin Smith
Sound Designer	Carl Kennedy
Fight Director	Ciaran OGrady
Voice Director	Andrea Ainsworth
Hair & Make-up	Val Sherlock
Fishamble Production Manager	Marie Tierney
Abbey Theatre Production Manager	Cliff Barragry
Fishamble Stage Manager	Steph Ryan
Abbey Theatre Stage Manager	Anne Kyle
Fishamble Assistant	Sarah Purcell
Stage Manager Dramaturg	Gavin Kostick
Assistant Director	Karen Stanley

A Reckoning It strikes me that Ireland is going through something of a reckoning at present. Recent referendums on civil liberties, tribunals into political ethics and corruption, inquiries into clerical and institutional abuse, all signal an enormous shift in Irish thinking. The iron grip of Catholicism and stifling absolutism of class and convention are beginning to dissipate, and to my mind that is a good thing. Unfortunately there are many areas in which we still fail and fail spectacularly.

In Rathmines Road, I want to explore our collective response to accusations of rape and sexual assault, and our complete failure judicially, socially and culturally, to negotiate the dreadful consequences of these crimes. So I decided to place a victim of sexual assault into a situation where he/she can confront that abuse in a public way and then watch each character shift and spin in the ways described by survivors. I wanted to try to feel what it is like to be blamed for inciting the very crime committed on you. What it is like to be constantly doubted. What it is like to be perpetually judged and labelled by that crime. What it is like to see your story, your truth and your dignity stolen from you by the people affected by that accusation and how quickly the response becomes not about you but about them, and how your accusation affects them.

I wanted to try to feel what it is like to disappear disappear into an abyss where every social cultural and judicial reflex conspires to silence, to shame and to denyYOU. It was in writing the play that I began to understand how the failure of our response is often governed by gender and the cultural expectations associated with gender. Boys will be boys remember and good girls dont get drunk or dont go into bedrooms at parties unless they are willing to be sexually assaulted or raped. It sounds absurd. I have to say I have trouble even writing that sentence, but how many daytime-chat-show callers, opinion-column writers, neighbours, solicitors or indeed deluded bishops give air to the notion that a victim of sexual assault is in some way culpable if not asking for it? It is extraordinary how control of the narrative of a crime is often removed from the person at the centre of it, then reshaped to fit the needs of those around them. The perpetrator of sexual assault rarely admits their crime, rarely sees it and in most cases is never forced to answer for it.

And so you will see how each character in Rathmines Road attempts to take control of the story and recreate it in some way to suit their sense of themselves. You will see how some characters lie, lie constantly, and lie first to themselves because the capacity for human denial never ceases to amaze me, particularly when backed up by silence. Silence sits at the heart of Rathmines Road because, unfortunately, silence remains the go-to response for survivors, their abusers and ourselves. Silence means we might not have to respond at all. Thank you. Scene OneWe are in an old-fashioned sitting room. Scene One We are in an old-fashioned sitting room.

The lighting is low. A couple are entwined, having just had sex on the couch. RAY. God Im getting too old for this! SANDRA. No youre not. RAY. RAY.

No youre amazing. SANDRA. You know I love you, dont you, Ray. You know I love you more than anything. You and San and Emma. You are everything to me.

Everything. EVERYTHING. RAY. Who are you shouting at? SANDRA. I dont know. Everyone maybe.

Everything. RAY. Are you sure youre all right? SANDRA. Yes. RAY. No. RAY. RAY.

Are you sure you look like youre crying? SANDRA. No Im not Im fine. Im honestly fine. RAY. Okay. But what was going on with you this evening? SANDRA.

What? RAY. When the others were here? SANDRA. Nothing! RAY. Nothing? SANDRA. Do you mind moving I just want to fix my dress. He rolls off her and on to the floor.

He starts to pull up his trousers. RAY. Of course. Sorry. I dont know why sex feels so illegal in here. SANDRA.

Its still my mothers sitting room. RAY (looking at a photo frame). And there she is looking right out at us. SANDRA. Sorry, Mammy SANDRA wipes away a tear. RAY. RAY.

Sandra? SANDRA. Im fine honestly. RAY. You are crying? SANDRA. Its just Jesus. Poor Mammy.

This was her good room. RAY. Oh dear SANDRA. I know. He puts his arm around her. RAY.

Are you sure youre okay? SANDRA. Yes. RAY. Ive never never seen you ask anyone to leave before what was it? SANDRA. I dont know RAY. Have you changed your mind? You dont want to sell? SANDRA.

No no, its not that. RAY. What then? SANDRA. I dont know. I dont She gets up. RAY.

Its emotional? SANDRA. Yes, exactly, its emotional and I couldnt I just couldnt cope with them poking around and I couldnt not with the evening sorry. RAY. You dont have to apologise to me. SANDRA. RAY. RAY.

And its only natural youre attached to the place. We really dont have to sell SANDRA. Maybe we dont. Or maybe we do RAY. Its pretty here. It could make a nice holiday home? SANDRA.

Shouldnt you want to go on holidays to your holiday home? Im sorry, Ray, Im just Im not myself. RAY. Well, whatever you want, love. Whatever you decide Ill row in with it. Auctioneers are ten to a penny. SANDRA.

I know they are. RAY. We can contact another company when youre ready. SANDRA. Yes. RAY. RAY.

I never thought it was a good idea to ask a friend anyway. SANDRA. You never said? RAY. Didnt I? SANDRA. No, and I wouldnt call Linda a friend, Ray. She takes a deep breath and has to hold on to the sideboard. RAY. RAY.

What is it? SANDRA. Nothing. Im okay. Im okay. He approaches her. She swings around violently.

RAY is startled. RAY. Christ! SANDRA. What? RAY. You look terrified. SANDRA.

Do I? RAY. Yes what is it, love, whats wrong? SANDRA. Nothing. Nothings wrong. Ill be all right. RAY. RAY.

Is it a panic attack? SANDRA. Yes yes, thats what it is a panic attack. RAY. Do you need to sit down? SANDRA. No. RAY.