60
(BECKY enters, her left hand in a plaster cast,
and jumps on her bed with a magazine. The plaster
has writing and pictures drawn all over it.)
BECKY: Hi Jo.
JO: Hi. Cynthia tells me the plaster's almost ready
to come off.
BECKY: Yep, I can't wait.
CYNTHIA: She'll never forgive me for doing that, will you
Becky? Even though I spend my life apologising.
BECKY: I forgive you. It was worth it to have you back.
JO: (playful) Aaaahh. Isn't that sweet.
CYNTHIA: I think she's just saying that 'cause you're here.
(JO laughs)
BECKY: I'm not.
CYNTHIA: Becky, can you read that downstairs, we've got a
lot of work to do.
BECKY: I won't make any noise.
CYNTHIA: But you might. Go on, please?
BECKY: (grudgingly) Okay. (gets up and exits with her
magazine)
CYNTHIA: Thanks.
JO: (pause) Cynthia.
CYNTHIA: What?
JO: That place you said you used to go to, the
one inside your head -
CYNTHIA: I don't know if it was in side my head. But
that's what the counsellor said.
JO: Will you tell me about it sometime?
CYNTHIA: Sure. (pause) You know, I really miss it. And
the boy, if it wasn't for him I think I would
have killed myself...I almost stayed there that last
time, sometimes I still wish I had.
JO: Really?
CYNTHIA: Yeah, or I think about it anyway, what it
would be like if I had. You know, when things get a bit
tough, (turning introspective) I remember how
perfect it was there...and I remember him and
how perfect he was. (suddenly turning to JO) Will you
help me do something?
