(Emma walks onto the stage and sits at a table on which today’s
copy of The Guardian lies folded. She opens the newspaper and
speaks).
You were sat at breakfast this morning, drinking a cup of coffee
and reading the paper, and one article in particular jumped out at
you. I’ll read it to you – see if it sounds familiar.
‘A diving centre boss swindled almost £250,000 from the NHS
by claiming to have treated non-existent patients for cases of the bends, a court heard yesterday.
‘David Welsh and two accomplices billed health trusts across
Britain for supposed treatment in the centre’s decompression
chamber, it was claimed.
‘Though genuine names, addresses, dates of birth and national
insurance numbers were used, those people had never suffered the bends or been treated in the hyperbaric chamber, Plymouth crown court was told. Many of the bogus patients had taken diving courses at the centre, but eight of the “patients” told police they had never been diving and one man who had supposedly been treated for bends said he could not swim, the jury heard.’
(Emma folds up the newspaper and replaces it on the table).
Perhaps that’s why you’re feeling so melodramatic this evening.
Since you read this article you’ve had the notion of pressure on
your mind. You haven’t realised it, but as the day has gone on, the power of this article has grown.
(Emma stands up and walks to the front of the stage).
The tide is falling outside. As it does so you imagine an invisible
level of water rising in the barge, as if it has a relation to the tide
outside. Somehow this motion is related to the rocking of the boat.
You become aware of all the sounds of water in the barge: the
clink of ice cubes in your glass, a dripping tap, a flushing toilet.
You have already noticed that there are four ways out of this room – keeping them in mind should you need an escape route.
You realise in a moment of self-reflection that this is what fears
are made of. A fear can start with a joke, a misplaced glance, or
any other insubstantial thing. Perhaps that’s why you’re feeling
melodramatic this evening; because you know that fear, like water, has a tendency to follow the path of least resistance.
(A man wearing a high visibility jacket walks from backstage up
to Emma and whispers something in her ear, then departs the
same way he came).
Enough of this talk. I will leave you to your drinks. There’s a lot
to see. I wish you a good evening. Thank you.
(Emma exits the stage).
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