Dowie - When I Fall ... If I Fall

METHUEN DRAMA Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK 1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA BLOOMSBURY, METHUEN DRAMA and the Methuen Drama logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain 2019 Copyright Claire Dowie, 2019 Claire Dowie has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as author of this work. Cover design: Ben Anslow Cover image Colin Watkeys All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility for any such changes.

No rights in incidental music or songs contained in the work are hereby granted and performance rights for any performance/presentation whatsoever must be obtained from the respective copyright owners. All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before rehearsals by professionals and by amateurs to Colin Watkeys, 28 Thurlow Road, London SE21 8JA, UK, email to: . No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.

ISBN: PB: 978-1-3501-4166-7 ePDF: 978-1-3501-4168-1 eBook: 978-1-3501-4167-4 Series: Modern Plays To find out more about our authors and books visit www.bloomsbury.com and sign up for our newsletters. When I Fall... If I Fallto the memory of my motherClaire Dowies When I Fall... If I Fall was first produced at the Kilowatt Festival in Sansepolcro, Italy in July 2018. This version had its UK premiere at Summerhall, Edinburgh, in August 2019.Written and performed by Claire DowieDirected and designed by Colin WatkeysCast (on video)

Gloria	Claire Dowie
Young Gloria	Petra Haller
Dancer	Mike WD
Dancer	Rachel WD
Dancer	Kit Griffiths

With thanks to everyone in Italy and the UK for their support.A can-can dance but seen in flashes and on video.The splits to finish.Pause mostly for breath. What am I doing down here? Must have got down for something... Dont know what...

Not something thats easy to do, getting down Or getting up Not a job lightly undertaken. Did I drop something? Did I fall? Dont remember falling I think Id have noticed. I think it would have made some sort of impression. Looking around. A broken bone at least, osteoporosis... Looks like the splits Last time I did the splits I was about twenty-seven Doing the can-can Loved it Went all over the world Waving my legs about and showing my knickers. Demonstration while still sitting. Loved it.

Life affirming Cant do it now Too old now. I can still do bits but... Im at that awkward age Too old to dance But not old enough to be the Grande Dame Hundred and eleven and still breathing, Isnt she marvellous! A real Grande Dame If I sit here long enough I might be in with a shot In with a shot of Grande Damery So long as I dont break anything Breaking things is the worry. Wrists or hips or backs or necks Thats the worry So easily done Osteoporosis Bones like matchsticks They snap Easily. Pause to shift position. Trouble is the longer you live the lonelier it gets Friends drop like flies One minute youre having a cup of tea And the next... zee... zee (Fly dropping.) So loneliness is the real killer Its not bones Its emotions A poisoned chalice Outliving friends, loved ones Till your only friends are memories Memories of friends Its not a way to play Scrabble. zee (Fly dropping.) So loneliness is the real killer Its not bones Its emotions A poisoned chalice Outliving friends, loved ones Till your only friends are memories Memories of friends Its not a way to play Scrabble.

I dont know if I had any I cant remember any friends They might be dead Or never existed Which amounts to the same thing. I think I had some when I was young I think I would remember if I hadnt. Although I travelled a lot Went all over the world Doing the can-can Kicking my legs and showing my knickers All over the world That was a time when my body moved without thought When my mind was agile When I zipped and zapped And turned on a pin head And danced and jumped and ran And thought nothing of it Had no inkling of creaks and groans And slow stiff aching bones A better time. The best time. Because I was prime Best time of my life? No This is the best time of my life I hated being young It was horrible, fraught with anxiety and doubt And fear about... everything Till I learned to be glamorous Learned to be outside myself looking in Till I learned to distance myself from myself A stripper taught me Taught me how to be glamorous Taught me the freedom of disguise I was never glamorous before It didnt come naturally It didnt appeal Made no sense I was always quite plain And bony Dreadfully thin and bony Bony shoulders Bony hips Bony elbows Bony knees Long thin bony face I looked like a donkey So not a natural beauty And told so Often But quite happy in my own little way A happy little donkey Looked like a boy for the most part Acted like one too Compensated Did more than the girl Was more than the girl I always thought thered been some kind of mistake Either with me, or, more likely, with the rest of the world.

Could never work out when I was young If I was right and the world was wrong Or if I was wrong and the world was right Or if we were both wrong Couldnt both be right Couldnt both be right till I found people like me When I found people like me I realised both me and the world could be right Because when I found people like me I discovered there were many worlds The idea of one world is a myth Theres probably hundreds of worlds And Id been living in the wrong one Till I found people like me. So I must have had friends People like me were my friends I just cant remember them Just remember being odd with the world When I was young. That girl stuff never made sense Always looked fake and practised Mainly because it was. I remember those times Have a soft spot for them now, but then... Then I was sold a lie Sold ugliness and stupidity And doubt and insecurity And fear of not being... Not belonging.

Nobody belongs Thats a myth Ive learned that now Were all on the outside looking in Once you learn that youre free from being sold the anxiety. They dont sell me anything now Apart from Stannah stairlifts and life insurance Which is a bit rich when youre dying I can breathe for free now With what little lung I have left But I remember those times. And repeat the memory I remember And repeat the memory Remember and repeat Like a baby repeats, like a toddler Repeat to remember Remember to repeat Remember and complete Then and now I was once then but now Im now I still am that person that I was That person in their prime With their anxiety and ugliness Im still them And they became me Got there Got here. Got here, despite them