“She peed them and didn’t have another pair
So her mummy sent her to school
Without any underwear”
Estelle Munro is crying but makes no sound
She is doomed and so am I
I should be beside her
Standing up to all the girls
Fists up, chin out
Sticking up for my best friend
But really, she should not have told her secret I don’t know how to keep them
FRANCES
Let’s pull up her smelly skirt.
JUNE
I’m not touching her. I don’t want to get my hands dirty!
FRANCES
Elsa Paul. You’re her friend. You do it.
ELSA backs away.
Go on, do it!
ELSA
(to FRANCES) All right, I will!
(to herself) I don’t want to do it. If I pull her skirt up for all the girls to see I’ll break the magic spell of Cinderella and the Match Girl and skipping home hand in hand with daisies for our mummies. I have to think of something.
(turns to the GIRLS) Get out of my road. You’re all in the way!
Watching as they move back.
They giggle and move back, making a space.
Moves towards ESTELLE.
I burn my eyes through her tears
And think hard so she can hear
“Run Estelle! There’s a space. Run!”
But her eyes are saying
“You won’t hurt me. You’ll protect me. You’re my friend”
I’ll have to give her a push. Not so’s she’ll fall down
But so’s she’ll escape. ESCAPE!
She pushes ESTELLE in the direction of the space.
She falls against the iron railings
But now she takes hold of a spike
Swings herself up
And, like a cat, she’s on top!
The spikes all pointed up, waiting for one—little—slip
Then she leaps—and lands!
Outside the playground
For a second she looks through the bars at me
And then Estelle Munro runs!
She runs so fast that I can’t see her feet touch the pavement
She runs so fast that the wind lifts her skirt
It lifts up the skirt and it shows!
It shows
Everybody saw. They saw
There’s dead silence
Nobody knows what to do
Frances Green slides up beside me
FRANCES
(whispers venomously) Good riddance to bad rubbish.
ELSA
(narrating) The spell is broken into giggles. Then June MacReady starts to trot around like a horse.
JUNE
(trotting daintily and pawing the ground) This is my best black stallion. Who wants to ride him?
ELSA
(looking around) All the girls have got their hands up except me.
JUNE
I pick— (She twirls around, prancing, snorting and rearing, slapping her own bottom as if it’s the horse.) I pick—Elsa Paul! Now everybody get on your horses for your first lesson! This is my horse club. If you want to be in the club do everything I say! Follow me!
ELSA
(narrating) I join the herd of horse-girls trotting obediently behind June. My throat has a stone in it telling me to cry… (begins to gallop desperately) even though it’s not really my fault!
Elsa’s flat, a week later
ELSA
(alone, reading a letter) “Dear Estelle. I was trying to help you escape. Sorry I don’t know how to keep a secret, love your friend, Elsa.”
I’ve kept the letter in my pocket for ages, now it’s old
and crumpled. She’s never on the playground anymore. When the bell rings and we all line up to go into school she comes running in at the end of the line just before the doors close. She sits at the desk near the door, and when the bell rings for playground time and we come out to play she’s nowhere. Like she flew up into the sky. Sometimes when I’m walking home I see her running across the meadows. She never stops to pick daisies anymore.
(sighs) It’s Saturday. It’s raining. Mummy’s doing the washing down among the mice in the scullery. Daddy is staring at the wall with his book on his desk. That’s his job and I’m not allowed to disturb him. I have nothing to do. I’ll go up and slip my letter under her door.
As she steps outside her door the SCRUBBING LADY is on her knees on the landing.
Oh, hullo.
SCRUBBING LADY
(swinging round on ELSA) Whit dae ye want? Eh?
ELSA
(creeping carefully past her) I’m going upstairs to my friend’s house.
SCRUBBING LADY
(dunking and squeezing her rag like she’s strangling it) You should keep away from that hoos. The smells that come from under that door make ye wonder if there’s no a dead body inside!
ELSA
(narrating, creeping up to ESTELLE’s door) There’s voices inside. Oh no. Her brother Dennis is yelling. I slip the letter under the door and turn to go…
DENNIS
ELSA
(freezes and turns) He stands in the doorway, keeping it almost closed. The letter must be lying on the floor behind him.
(to DENNIS, fearfully) Nothing.
DENNIS
(stepping to her) You’re no here for nothing. Ye canny come in.
ELSA
I wasn’t asking to—
DENNIS
(raises his fist) You keep away from this house!
ELSA
(narrating) I turn to run and he grabs my arm.
DENNIS
(fist in her face) If you don’t stay away I’ll come into your house when you’re sleeping and murder you!
ELSA
(to the audience, with DENNIS holding her arm in a lock-grip)
I can’t tell Mummy about this because she doesn’t understand that Scottish people are very good at massacring people in their beds. She’d only make it worse.
ESTELLE
Elsa?
ELSA
(narrating) She’s standing in the doorway holding my letter.
DENNIS
(turns and raises his fist to ESTELLE) Get back in the house, now!
ESTELLE
Elsa, is this letter for me?
DENNIS
Let me see that!
ELSA
(narrating) He lets go my arm and turns to grab the letter. Estelle ducks under his arm, takes my hand and we run. She’s pulling me down the stairs so fast I’m nearly falling.
DENNIS
Come back! You get back here now. I’m going to kill you!
SCRUBBING LADY
(waving her scrubbing brush) That’s the last straw! I’m telling yer mothers!
ELSA
(narrating) My door is unlocked. (slides the bolt and leans against the door) I’m out of breath but she isn’t. She has on the dress my mummy gave her, but it’s too small for her now and it has a tear in it.
(to ESTELLE) Read the letter.
ESTELLE
You know it’s my birthday?!
ELSA
(panicked to ESTELLE) Eh… yes! Don’t open it, I’ll read it to you.
ELSA takes the letter and pretends to read.
“Happy birthday dear Estelle, love from your best friend, Elsa.”
Puts it in her pocket.
Pause.
Do you think your brother
will come down and kill me?
ESTELLE
No. He doesn’t have time. He’s got to watch the house.
ELSA
Why?
Pause.
ESTELLE
I’m not supposed to tell.
ELSA
Is it cause of your mummy?
ESTELLE shrinks back and doesn’t answer.
Where’s your daddy?
ESTELLE
I don’t have a daddy.
ELSA
(impressed) Oh! You’re nearly an orphan!
ESTELLE
(weepy) I don’t want to be.
ELSA
What happened to your daddy?
ESTELLE
He just—never came back.
ELSA
Never came back from where?
ESTELLE
I don’t know…
ELSA
Never came back from the war?
ESTELLE
I don’t think…
ELSA
Maybe… maybe…
Pause.
ESTELLE
What?
ELSA
(conjuring up a story for ESTELLE) Maybe your daddy got killed in the war when he was trying to save us all from
the enemies! (starts to act it out like a romantic film) The enemies were all around and all the good soldiers were going to die, and then your daddy jumped up and charged right at them and shot them all and saved his men.
ESTELLE
(awed by the romance) Ooh.
ELSA
BUT! Then one night when the good soldiers were sleeping, the enemies came and massacred them, and your daddy was stabbed through the heart.
ESTELLE
(shocked) Oh.
ELSA
But if he hadn’t got massacred he would have got a medal.
ESTELLE
(relieved) Oh, yes!
ELSA
Do you want to see something?
ESTELLE
(cautiously) I think so!
ELSA
(narrating) We go into the closet.
(to ESTELLE) My mummy’s old dance dresses. I’m allowed. She doesn’t wear them anymore, ever since we came to live here.
ELSA opens the trunk.
(narrating) Estelle looks like she’s seeing treasure.
(to ESTELLE) Mummy could sew anything. She’d make a wish and then she’d do it, like the Good Witch Glinda and Dorothy rolled into one, and she didn’t even need a wizard, a wand or ruby red shoes, just the iron Singer.
ESTELLE
The what?
ELSA
The Singer sewing machine.
ESTELLE
Oh.
ELSA
She used to watch the films and all the love and romance, not even in her language, but she knew what they were saying. She’d memorize the film-star’s dresses, dream the colour into them, then all through the night she’d make her own film-star dresses on the sewing machine she bought with money from gutting fish. She could have pricked her finger on the needle like Snow White and gone to sleep for ever, but she didn’t! The fastest gut-girl in the harbour would never let herself be caught like that. Come here Estelle. What do you smell?
ESTELLE
(sniffs) Mothballs?
ELSA
No! Smell harder! Mummy’s perfume! “Evening in Paris!” And Daddy’s cigars for special occasions.
ESTELLE
Oh yes.
ELSA
(pulls out a long gown) This is Mummy’s Rita Hayworth dress. When she wore this the American soldiers fell in love with her. Make a wish.
ESTELLE
What for?
ELSA
Anything.
ESTELLE
I don’t know how to.
ELSA
You never wished for anything?
ESTELLE
No.
ELSA
To be a princess or a film star?
ESTELLE
No.
ELSA
Well what are you thinking when I’m telling you the stories?
ESTELLE
I’m just watching you.
ELSA
(pleased) Oh, well then. But today’s your birthday so you get to choose a dress.
(narrating) She pulls out the pink one. It has a rose on the shoulder made out of twinkles.
(to ESTELLE) Now hold your dress close to your face, close your eyes and wish like this: (with all the passion of a true believer) I wish, I wish, I wish I was tall and beautiful and slim like Mummy! Now we get undressed and put them on. Take your clothes off.
ESTELLE
(backs away terrified) No…!
ELSA
Well I’m going to.
ELSA whisks off her clothes as she narrates.
Estelle looks away as I stand naked. I don’t look in the mirror Mummy put against the wall to teach me to suck in my tummy. Mirrors have no imagination.
She clicks her heels like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.
There’s no place like Hollywood, there’s no place like Hollywood!
She picks up the dress.
I raise Rita Hayworth high above my head, and the green silk strokes my skin as she falls around me. (poses like a slender film star) I am in colour. (looks over to ESTELLE) Estelle’s still holding the dress.
(to ESTELLE) Well If you don’t want to dress up like a film star you can be my adoring public.
ESTELLE
All right then.
ELSA
(slipping into a film-star persona) I slip on dusty velvet pumps with wedgy heels and peeping toes.
ELSA practises walking. She is a cross between Marlene Dietrich and Rita Hayworth.
I sway my hips and stalk
Like a lion with flamingo legs
Up and down the hallway
Past the peeling wallpaper
And the smell of last night’s fireplace
I pause at the top of the Grand Staircase
Leading to the Basement of Dreams
And pose
So my adoring public can take pictures
I glide down the cold stone mountain
Through the basement valley
Followed by my adoring public (enters scullery)
I make my entrance into the cavern of the Mountain Queen
Ready for her gasp of joy that I brought Rita back to life
Ready for the smile that tells me I am queen of her heart…!
Mummy’s hair’s pulled back and tied up with a piece of rag
Her lips are tight from working and she’s saying something
I can’t hear because the washer is foaming at the mouth
And Mummy turns around and yells
Because the washer’s overflowing
And it was me who got in the way of its feeding
Mummy’s turned her back now
And pulling out the soapy mess
And yelling in the mother tongue
Which I forget
The steam is making my dress stick to my skin
And nothing feels right anymore
ELSA switches to her film-star persona.
Rita doesn’t belong here
She’s come into an ugly place
Of dreams forgotten
A place where loveliness is not allowed
I turn towards my adoring public—
Gasps.
But she’s not there
Instead a slender pri
ncess stands
Her golden hair cascading around her face
And onto the wide, glittering shoulders
Of the rose-coloured dress
She lifts her head shyly to me
And as she does a beam of sunlight
Pierces through the basement window
And makes her into—
A—film star!
When did she do that? Why did she do that?
ELSA pushes past ESTELLE.
I clump back up to the closet of old clothes and start to tug and pull my dress off. There’s a tearing sound as I pull it over my belly. I hate this dress! I hate my belly wobble and my dimpled knees. I hate… my stupid hair, brown and plain, and jelly cheeks. I refuse! I refuse to let her know what she looked like!
(her rage exhausted) I know how to make everything back the way it was.
(pulling her clothes back on) I know! I will make Estelle Munro invisible!
She looks around. The rose-coloured dress lies on the floor. She picks it up and throws it into the trunk.
Well then, the next time she sees me she’ll find out that she’s invisible!
Bruntsfield School classroom
ELSA is ten years old.
MISS CAMPBELL
The Scottish song contest is once again upon us, class. Now that you are seniors, one of you will be chosen to represent the school at the city-wide competition. And who knows? Maybe this year one of you will go on to the nationals. (sighs to herself) Oh dream on, Daphne Campbell! Anyway, this is a great honour, and I expect you all to work hard to prepare a piece from the glorious canon of poetry and song that has graced the history of Scotland.
ELSA
(narrating) Jamie MacDonald drops his head on the desk and sighs.
(to JAMIE) What’s the matter with you, Jamie?
DAVID
I dinny want tae sing.
ELSA
(narrating) Jamie will never win the contest, but I don’t want him to get the strap anymore. I wish he’d let me save him from Miss Campbell.
(to JAMIE) You have to do a song. Everybody has to do something. Do your mummy and daddy not sing at home?
JAMIE
Ma daddy sings when he comes home from the pub.
JAMIE sings, emulating a pugnacious drunk.
Celtic, Celtic, they’re the team for me
Celtic, Celtic on to victory!
ELSA
That’s a football song.
JAMIE
What’s wrong with it?
ELSA
Miss Campbell won’t like it.
JAMIE
She won’t like anything I do.
ELSA
Jamie never cried when Miss Campbell massacred him.