Original Play "Wouldn't it be Lovely?"

I wrote this in January for school. It was inspired by the song "Common People."

WOULDN’T IT BE LOVELY

ENGLAND, 1996. Somewhere on a train.

(ARABELLA, a well-dressed young woman not long out of university sits down on the train.)

ARABELLA: Oh, I hope I didn’t forget my keys again. My dad’s going to kill me.

(Enter ALEX, considerably less proper in demeanor and appearance, sitting next to ARABELLA.) ALEX:  Hey.

(ARABELLA ignores him and mumbles under her breath as she fumbles for her keys in her purse. She finally pulls them out.) Oh, THERE they are! I was getting worried.

ALEX: Might consider finding more than your keys.

(ARABELLA playfully rolls eyes.) I hate this.

ALEX: I, uh, I think you’re really—

ARABELLA: I HATE this!

ALEX: (To himself) Emphasis on “hate,” or “this”?

(ARABELLA SIGHS DRAMATICALLY.)

ALEX: Sorry. What’s wrong?

ARABELLA: Oh, it’s just—my dad, he wants me to be a lawyer.

(ALEX looks suspiciously at ARABELLA.)

ARABELLA: You know we aren’t all EVIL, right?

ALEX: Then what are you complaining about?

ARABELLA: This is my stop.

ALEX: Me too.

ARABELLA: Oh, no.

ALEX: It’s okay. I’m just visiting.

ARABELLA: We keep this secret.

ALEX: You aren’t supposed to talk to people like me?

ARABELLA: Well, I suppose I would in a court case. All the criminals and druggies. (Turns up her nose.)

ALEX: You remind me of someone I knew in school. I don’t know if I like that.

ARABELLA: I’m betting you’re a dropout.

ALEX: No, I’m not.

ARABELLA: Yes, you are.

ALEX: No, I’m—never mind.

ARABELLA: I don’t want to go back to my dad’s.

ALEX: Rent a flat. I’m sure you can afford it.

ARABELLA: Ugh. Nobody cleans those things.

ALEX: You should buy a big house in the country and keep pigs. That would teach you something.

ARABELLA: Ew, no! And I don’t even have money anyway! It’s all my dad’s!

ALEX: He’s going to pay for your law school?

ARABELLA: Ugh, yes.

ALEX: Lucky.

ARABELLA: Walk me home?

ALEX: Ummmmmm…

ARABELLA: I’m so sick of him controlling my life.

ALEX: Without your dad you wouldn’t get anywhere.

ARABELLA: Shut up!

(ALEX steps off the train, ARABELLA behind him.)

ARABELLA: Well I don’t guess you’re going to—

ALEX: Well, my flatmate isn’t home… (to himself: no that’s ridiculous.)

ARABELLA: Ah, too bad. Nice fellow, I’d like to meet him.

ALEX: (rolls eyes) Stop it.

ARABELLA: No, really! The girls aren’t any fun to be around. Snobs.

ALEX: Tell me about it.

ARABELLA: Fine we’ll go to your flat then.

ALEX: Are you sure?

ARABELLA: Yes.

ALEX (To himself) I’m not sure how fragile she is or if she’ll get contamination sickness. That was a joke. But be careful with those rich girls.

ARABELLA: What?

ALEX: Nothing.

ARABELLA: Okay then. (They arrive at Alex’s flat.)

ALEX: Coffee?

ARABELLA: Yes, please. It’s cold out.

ALEX: It isn’t even cold.

ARABELLA: (Laughs) Don’t be a contrarian.

ALEX: Are you cold then?

ARABELLA: No. It’s warmer in here. It’s fine. My dad keeps the house stifling.

ALEX: Being pretentiously hot, just because he can afford it?

ARABELLA: (mimics TV ad) Electric blankets! GUARANTEED to keep you warm at night. As seen on TV.

(ALEX gets coffee for ARABELLA. She sips it, and sits back in the chair.) My dad doesn’t like my slouching. He says manners. Can’t wait to get out on my own so I can throw my feet on the sofa!

ALEX: I don’t care what to do. You should see us on a Friday night.

ARABELLA:  I think I’m good, thank you very much.

ALEX: I forgot, sorry about the mess I wasn’t expecting.

ARABELLA: Oh, it’s fine. I’d have a mess if I was allowed to anyway. A mess of dog hair. Four huskies, have to clean after them like crazy!

ALEX: I’d get a dog but there isn’t room here.

ARABELLA: Get a little chihuahua.

ALEX: No! They’re evil.

ARABELLA (laughs): Yeah, you’re right.

ALEX: My mate has a cat but she doesn’t come out when guests are here.

ARABELLA (sobers): I haven’t told anyone, but I think I want to be a writer.

ALEX: For The Daily Mail?

ARABELLA: No, not for The Daily Mail, silly, but maybe reviews. Music reviews, or books. Should do something with those old things anyway.

ALEX: You’re going to regret that.

ARABELLA: What?

ALEX: Your dad isn’t going to pay you to write editorials.

ARABELLA: Who cares about money anyway? You know who has money? The girls at my old school, and I hate them.

ALEX: Spoiled rotten by their parent’s I’ll bet, just like you. Also, I care about money.  I don’t want to eat toenail polish again.

ARABELLA: Ew. That stuff isn’t cheap anyways!

ALEX: I was kidding. I ate it by accident when I was three. Nothing to do with money.

ARABELLA: Honey buns.

ALEX: What?

ARABELLA: Oh, I’m going to miss Soreilli’s Bakery.

ALEX: What?

ARABELLA: I’m thinking of moving up North.

ALEX: Very familiar. It’s rainy up there.

ARABELLA: I like rain. Maybe cats are better than dogs for writing anyway. A little flat with an old-fashioned typewriter, rain pouring outside, maybe a few dozen cats? Maybe some old nails in the walls, past mementos and secrets.

ALEX: It’s probably haunted. And you don’t want that.

ARABELLA: I don’t believe in ghosts. And I do want that. Maybe hang on Fridays. You know any good places up there?

ALEX: Like what?

ARABELLA: Pubs, and the like?

ALEX: You don’t look like the kind of girl to get drunk at a pub.

ARABELLA: Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. My mum’s Irish, guess I have some of her spirit. She ran away back to Ireland when I was three. I guess nobody likes my dad.

(The ceiling begins to drip.) ALEX: I’m sorry.

ARABELLA: Ew! Where’s this water coming from.

ALEX: Little leak. Been meaning to call for a fix.

ARABELLA: What kind of nasty stuff is in your ceiling anyway.

ALEX: Your fantasies of living with the common people are quickly fleeting.

ARABELLA: I didn’t say that—ew!

ALEX: You aren’t stuck up, but you aren’t properly conditioned for the weather either. Still under your father’s umbrella of half a million. Trust me I know him. Weller Land Broker?

ARABELLA: Yeah? You know him.

ALEX: Got us kicked out of Corner Gardens when I was twelve.

ARABELLA: He’s a lovely man.

ALEX: When you start getting cockroaches under your bed, you’re going to regret the decision to pick up the worst paying job around.

ARABELLA: I’ll write. A lot. Charles Dickens was paid by the word. Maybe I’ll buy a computer.

ALEX: We had them at school. I’d play this game with my mates.

ARABELLA: Have you ever heard of the INTERNET? That’s crazy.

ALEX: I know, right? Like you can connect with other people?

ARABELLA: Also I’ll buy some pest-control things if it’s a problem.

ALEX: Watch out for the rats.

ARABELLA: What?

ALEX: (To himself) She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into if her daddy won’t help her anymore.

ARABELLA (departing): I have to go.  Thanks for having me!

ALEX: You’ve got my number.

ARABELLA: Noted. Remind me to take you for coffee sometime. You’ll see.

END