ABSTRACT
Act I. A living-room, kitchenattached, openplanin a house in a Northern English Town.
MARl. Well, Sadie, what a night! What-a-night! What a championship neet! In fact come here and belt me. Calm me down with a smack sandwich so I can tell the tale. Belt me. (SADIE comes over and hits MARl's two cheeks simultaneously.) Tar. Well, I copped off again with that Ray. I did it again. He had no choice. You couldn't have got a bar between us last night, I became his side. I was eye to eye with him all night. There was virtually only enough virtual room to move our drinks table to gob. The turn was a romantic singer, thank fuck, and the music was in our heads, in our heads and in his wandering hands. Everyone's coming up to Ray alIt' time, 'Howdo', 'Alright'. He knows so many people and I'm on his arm and his hands on my arse as he speaks to them. My arse. My golden old arse in Ray Say's hands. You can see how I am there. A queen. Queen for the
night. He motored me home about a million miles an hour. I don't know what kinda car it is. One o'them big ones that bloody go, pistols in the back, all that, toaster in the dashboard, lights blinking on and off, put me up, put me down, put me up, put me down seats, thick as beds. Crack oh round the bloody roads we was. Heart in mouth, hand on leg, the lot. Then screeching to a halt outside, did you not hear us? You must be dead if you didn't. I saw every other curtain in the bitching road twitch. Then he comes at me with this pronto snog, lip-lapping like hell. That's men for you in it Sade, if you can remember. Lip-a-lapping, like old hell he was. But at least he's a lot better than most, at least he knows how to slide and dart and take a throat. At least there's always the thick wad of his wallet up against your tit for comfort.
