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letra de act one, scene iv: "group time" - the granite shore

backstage at the ballroom. tony, rich, pete and steve are preparing to go on. enter harry

harry: ready boys?
tony: as we’ll ever be!
rich: yeah, as we’ll ever be… though we’re hardly boys any more
harry: you’ll always be my boys. [mimes wiping away a tear] still, full house out there tonight. all ages too
tony: some of the old crowd must’ve brought their kids
rich: some of them’ve probably brought yours, tony
tony: eh? oh. [laughs uneasily] right, ha, ha! speaking of which, i saw amanda outside
pete: my boy’s doing the lighting, you know. got himself a trade
rich: sensible lad. he’ll be getting paid more than we are
[enter chris]
tony: hi again… er… [searches his memory for chris’s name]
rich: hi chris, good to see you again
tony: chris! how the devil are you doing? oh, and how’s that article coming along?
chris: nearly done. not sure who’ll be publishing it yet though
tony: loads of mags after it, i bet! holding out for the highest bidder, eh?
chris: er, yeah, something like that
[enter malcolm]
rich: all set up to record, malc?
malcolm: yeah, you lot just worry about playing. gonna put this out?
tony: deffo!
rich: depends what it’s like
tony: er, yeah, obviously. but it’s gonna be great, i can feel it in my water
[enter amanda]
amanda: everyone decent?
rich: sweetheart, at least half the people here used to wipe your bottom and give you baths. we may need you to return the favour before long
amanda: [grimaces] now there’s an image i’d rather not’ve had in my head
rich: come to wish your old man luck?
steve: come to keep you in line, more like
pete: how’d she turn out so well? must’ve been the quality of her babysitters, i reckon
rich: she takes after her mother
pete: oh sh-t rich, i’m sorry, i didn’t think…
tony: come over here and give your uncle tony a hug
[amanda hugs tony]
amanda: where’s harry?
harry: over here, love. don’t let this lot muck you about
amanda: did i hear they need a pep talk before going on or something?
pete: actually that was always clara’s job. she’d check our clothes and hair, tell us we were a family and weren’t alone and… bl–dy h-ll, sorry rich, keep putting my foot in it
rich: you’re all acting like she died last month but then again i s’pose we’re back on group time, so stuff that happened years ago feels recent. we’re all behaving like a bunch of nineteen-year-old kids. still, on the plus side, we’ve started living in the future again, or i have, anyway
steve: come again?
rich: until i was twenty i lived on group time. then up to about forty i was still living in the future, always planning the stuff i’d do when everything came together and my life actually got going. everything lay ahead of me. then as you get a bit older, gradually you start living in the past, looking back at what was, what might’ve been and what never was. i don’t think i’ve ever lived in the present, i wonder what that’s like? still, maybe you can only do that once you realise you haven’t got much of it left
tony: speak for yourself, mate
rich: that’s all i’ve ever done, though i sometimes used your mouth to do it
harry: this is why you lot’ve always needed me
tony: [cutting in] amanda should do it. give us the talk, i mean
rich: sweetheart? you don’t have to
amanda: i’ll give it a go. what did mum used to say?
tony: don’t bother your head about that. just tell us what to do
rich: remember that on group time we’re just a bunch of f-ckless kids with zero discipline, though on the plus side i s’pose at least we’ll all be more or less sober on stage. first time for everything and all that
amanda: i’ll tell you when i spot the difference. [exasperated sigh] you two are a great help, aren’t you?
harry: welcome to my world
amanda: [deep breath, eyes closed] ok, here goes:
though you belong to one another, you belong first to those who wait outside
fear and disappointment fizz along their lifelines, scuttling through their dreams;
terror at the tangents taken since last you stood before them
you failed to chart the middle years on the blurred border between splendour and poverty
now they look to you for late romance, falling not from heaven but from the venue rafters;
up where the lighting fl1ckers in the penumbra
more than this, they long for hands held
aloft
for unison, the single sound
to know they never were, are, nor shall be alone
yours then, is to stand apart and play a part;
to mark and to keep time
for everyone

- the granite shore

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