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  JO has fetched a mostly full bottle of whisky from the kitchen.

  AMIE: That your mum’s stash?

  JO: We share it.

  JO takes a fairly long drink.

  AMIE: I’m numb. And excited. I’m not kidding about baking things.

  AMIE takes the bottle and drinks.

  JO: I know.

  AMIE: Ever since I was a little girl –

  JO: I know.

  AMIE: And now we have to concentrate on what you want.

  JO: I want my daughter.

  AMIE: Right.

  JO: It won’t matter what job I wind up in as long as I have her with me.

  AMIE: I know. But it’d be nice if you were doing something you enjoyed. Remember all that drawing you did when we were in grade school. Those drawings were beautiful.

  JO: (taking a drink) They were cartoons.

  AMIE: Beautiful cartoons. And maybe you could –

  JO: Do it, like, professionally? Come on.

  AMIE: Why not?

  JO: Amie. I don’t have a dream about that stuff. I never did. I never wanted to be this or that. I sometimes thought about having babies, but that’s all I ever –

  AMIE: (taking a drink) Everyone has dreams. All the other girls at the club had dreams.

  JO: They were all idiots.

  AMIE: Emily wasn’t. She was going to law school.

  JO: She dropped out.

  AMIE: What? No, she didn’t.

  JO: Yeah. A year ago. (taking a drink) She told me one night when we were both high.

  AMIE: Why? (taking a drink) Why’d she drop out?

  JO: She couldn’t hack it, why else?

  AMIE: So, why didn’t she tell the rest of us?

  JO: She asked me not to.

  AMIE: Yeah, I get that. As long as we all thought she was heading towards something, it was like her dream was still alive.

  It meant to us it was alive.

  JO: So, you were keeping her dream alive for her when all she wanted was to make money, get high, and party?

  AMIE: I looked up to her.

  JO: Yeah, well, that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?

  They pass the bottle back and forth twice quickly.

  AMIE: Do you think you’ll really be able to leave this life?

  JO: Yeah.

  AMIE: I mean, right now? Like, today?

  JO: Why not today? The club’s gone. And you have to stop sometime, right? I’m not up for a boob job every second year.

  AMIE: Me neither. But …

  JO: What?

  AMIE: I’ll miss some things.

  They can hold their liquor but they’re both feeling it a little.

  JO: You mean the men? The regulars who came there just for you? You’ll miss all that attention?

  AMIE: I guess. Maybe.

  JO: You could probably hang in for a few more years.

  AMIE: If I go under the knife …

  JO: Yeah, well, they’re getting younger all the time. And the new ones won’t need any cosmetic help for a while, so –

  AMIE: I’ve learned a few tricks that’d keep me in demand for the private stuff.

  JO: Yeah. Remember when we agreed not to talk about what goes on in those rooms? Let’s not start now, okay?

  AMIE: I just –

  JO: (taking a drink) No. We’re still two friends who met in that sandbox. I’d like to hold on to that, okay? You know, thinking it’s the most important thing we share.

  AMIE: So you’re, what, ashamed?

  JO: No. I’m just –

  AMIE: It sounds like you are.

  JO: No. Not ashamed. But Jesus, what’s it add up to beyond the money? Money I already threw away.

  AMIE: Because you were ashamed?

  JO: No! Because I got addicted. To the drugs, the “social life,” all the bullshit attention.

  AMIE: Well, at least we never did porn.

  JO: I wish I had. All that stuff we were acting onstage. At least porn would have been closer to the real thing.

  AMIE: Depends on who you were fucking. They hire those guys for their cocks, not their faces. And definitely not for their personalities.

  JO: But at least you’d be actually fucking. Not just …

  AMIE: Teasing …

  JO: Yeah. Like anyone with half a brain couldn’t figure out that it was all fake.

  AMIE: Yeah. (drinking) So … you’re really thinking about moving on, then?

  JO: Yeah. And so are you, right? Right?

  AMIE: Yeah. But I’m holding on to the possibility of failure.

  JO: The failure to move on?

  AMIE: No. To move but to then fail.

  JO: At baking?

  AMIE: Or anything.

  JO: Okay. But don’t tell my mum that. Because she’ll be all over you. She wants us all to be betting on success.

  AMIE: What?

  JO: She saw some guy on TV saying that a few months ago. “Bet on success and you can’t go wrong.” I’m pretty sure she blames all her money problems on always betting on failure. Like her mother did. And probably her grandmother did too. They couldn’t help it. Brought up poor, that’s how you roll, right?

  AMIE: For sure.

  JO: Anyway, that’s why I knew when she found that cheque we were in for a wild ride. Finally a chance to bet on success. So if you want a little peace and quiet you better get on board.

  AMIE: Yeah. I’ll try.

  JO: Okay … something else. I don’t wanna have to bang Jimmy to get Suzy away from him, so we need to come up with something that puts him out of commission.

  AMIE: Like poison maybe?

  JO: Or maybe not that extreme.

  AMIE: Like a roofy?

  JO: Sure, that could work. You can come on to him and –

  AMIE: Me? Why me?

  JO: Because it wouldn’t work with me. He knows I hate his guts. But he thinks you’ve secretly had the hots for him all these years.

  AMIE: No way.

  JO: The guy thinks he’s a gift to all women. Look, all you have to do is show up, make sure Suzy goes to her room, and then come on to him.

  AMIE: Fucking yuk.

  JO: And then slip it into his drink.

  AMIE: I can’t let him touch me.

  JO: You’ll have to let him do something to get him going.

  AMIE: Okay. Okay, he can touch me. But not down there. He can have a little boob play.

  JO: That should be enough. Then when he’s out, you call, I come in, we grab Suzy and anything she wants to take with her.

  AMIE: Bobby Bunny, probably.

  JO: Right. We gotta get Bobby B. Or she’ll go nuts … And then we’re gone … Okay?

  AMIE: Yeah. Unless I can come up with a better idea.

  MARCIE comes back in.

  MARCIE: All good. They asked a couple of questions like they’re supposed to, I guess. I told them they weren’t entitled to know anything about where I got it because it wasn’t cash.

  JO: Is that true?

  MARCIE: It seemed to be. They called Dean Olsen’s bank to find out if the cheque would be covered, and …

  AMIE: No problem?

  MARCIE: No. (to JO) They put it in our account.

  MARCIE produces a receipt.

  JO: Our account?

  MARCIE: Yeah, the one we opened to put the rent in. I had high hopes for us then.

  AMIE: Meaning?

  MARCIE: That we had a common purpose.

  JO: She hoped that I’d be contributing.

  MARCIE: Well, you got sidetracked.

  JO: Yeah. That’s one word for it.

  AMIE: It’s a good enough word. People can get really fucking sidetracked sometimes. Booze, the wrong drugs, really bad men. But we’re past that now, right?

  MARCIE: Speaking of booze. (off the bottle) That was nearly full.

  AMIE: We were having a serious, no-bullshit discussion.

  JO: And we needed to take the edge off. (to AMIE) At least that’s what I think.

  AMIE: And yo
u’re right.

  JO: And … it worked.

  MARCIE: Yeah, I can tell.

  JO: No, you can’t.

  AMIE: She means we can hold our liquor so –

  JO: No, you fucking can’t tell.

  AMIE: Anyway. Here’s the receipt. (handing it to JO) Amazing, eh? Can’t be many people who had their bank balance go from forty-three to three hundred thousand and forty-three with one deposit. Like I said, a miracle.

  JO: You said a gift from God.

  MARCIE: And that’s not a miracle?

  JO: I’m just wondering if God’s gonna help out all the other people with just forty-three dollars or less in the bank.

  MARCIE: Okay. I get that. (taking out her phone) No more God talk.

  JO: Who are you calling now?

  MARCIE: I’m going to make a reservation at a fancy restaurant for the three of us. We need to celebrate. (looking at them) Any ideas?

  JO and AMIE look at each other. JO shrugs.

  AMIE: Rick took me somewhere once. He was trying to impress me.

  MARCIE: What was it called?

  AMIE: It didn’t have a name.

  MARCIE: It had to have a name.

  AMIE: Not anywhere I could find it. Not on the door, not on the menus. Rick just called it … a place.

  MARCIE: A place.

  AMIE: Yeah … Maybe that’s its name. (to JO) Google it.

  JO does.

  AMIE: Couldn’t we just go out for a burger?

  MARCIE: On the best night of our lives? Absolutely not.

  JO: Yeah, here it is. “A Place.” It’s on Hoskins.

  MARCIE: (to JO) And it was swanky?

  JO: Yeah. He dropped a bundle.

  MARCIE: Then that’s where we’re going. (to JO) What’s their number?

  JO: There isn’t one. Says they don’t accept reservations.

  AMIE: Yeah, that’s right. You just show up and if they like the look of you, they let you in.

  MARCIE: What’s up with that?

  JO: It’s just bullshit. We drop a hundred at the door, and we’ll get in, no problem. But really … I think we should just go for Chalet Chicken or something.

  AMIE: Oh yeah!

  AMIE and JO: Chalet Chicken! Yay!

  AMIE: Come on, Marcie. She’s right. You wouldn’t like it there. The food’s okay, but it’s mostly for rich –

  JO: Assholes and crooks?

  AMIE: We can still dress up, if you want.

  MARCIE: For Chalet Chicken? We don’t have to be stupid about it. I don’t have something good to wear anyway. (a little stagger) Ohhh … I’m a little dizzy. (heading for couch) Better sit down …

  JO: You okay?

  MARCIE: (sitting) I think I’ve been letting myself get too worked up. (to AMIE) Pass me my knitting, will you?

  AMIE: It’s right beside you.

  MARCIE: Oh good … (picking it up) Yeah, that was all just about … too much excitement … (taking a deep breath) You know what it’s like, what just happened to us? It’s like that movie where the guy shares his lottery winnings with a waitress.

  JO: It’s nothing like that.

  MARCIE: Well, it was unexpected, right? Just like it was for her. Unexpected like so many things in life. Except this time it was actually good.

  MARCIE takes a few deep breaths.

  JO: What are you doing?

  MARCIE: Just trying to calm down … So have you two made any decisions about where we should go?

  AMIE: Not yet.

  MARCIE: I was thinking maybe we should buy a car. Travel around a bit. Find some small town that suits our purpose.

  JO: (to AMIE) Somewhere with no pastry shop.

  AMIE: Yeah … but a place that has a girls’ hockey team.

  MARCIE: Suzy wants to play hockey?

  JO: Only if she can be the goalie.

  AMIE: Tell her why?

  JO: (to MARCIE) At the end of the game, when the teams line up to shake hands … the goalie is always first in line.

  MARCIE: And that’s important to her?

  JO: Go figure.

  MARCIE: Well, I think it’s a good sign. It shows a generosity of spirit.

  JO: I think she just likes to be first.

  MARCIE’s phone goes off.

  JO: What now?

  MARCIE: (looking at her phone’s screen) No, its okay … (on the phone) Hi April … No, it’s good that you called. I can pay my bill off today. The whole thing … Some money from Sheila’s estate came in … No, it was a surprise … Yeah, great. So … I’ll drop in later with the money. And April, thanks for your patience. You’ve been very kind … Okay. Bye.

  AMIE: Who’s April?

  JO: She owns the little grocery around the corner.

  MARCIE: She’s been carrying us for six months.

  MARCIE’s phone goes off once more.

  MARCIE: (on the phone) Speaking … Yes. Yes, I know it’s way past due. But I’ll be able to get it to you tomorrow … All of it … Okay, there’s no need to be sarcastic … Well, if saying “whoopee” wasn’t sarcastic, what was it then? … Oh, you’re just really happy for me. Right. After three months of talking to me like I’m a criminal, all of a sudden you care.

  JO: Tell him to fuck off.

  MARCIE: It’s a her.

  AMIE: Bitch!

  MARCIE: (on the phone) Look, there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now. Do you own stocks in that bank? … No? Then why have you taken this whole thing so fucking personally?!

  MARCIE disconnects. Another call comes in.

  JO: Mum. Don’t, okay?

  MARCIE: It’s my dentist’s office. I should let them know the bill’s going to get paid. Even though some of his work has been pretty shoddy lately.

  JO: (to AMIE) She thinks he might be going blind. He’s almost eighty.

  MARCIE: Eighty-five.

  AMIE: Jesus …

  MARCIE: (on the phone) Hi, Celia. Guess what? You can tell him I’m going to pay it off tomorrow … Yes, all of it … You’re welcome. Bye. (disconnecting) I don’t think she believed me. I guess all those people I owe think I’m way beyond hope.

  JO: Well, then they don’t really know you, do they?

  AMIE: (to MARCIE) Yeah. The way you worked this thing …

  JO: You took on all those sleazy guys, and you got what you wanted.

  AMIE: I was very impressed.

  JO: Me too.

  MARCIE: Really? Good. Because I think I might do something like this again. (off their looks) Not right away. But when we’re settled somewhere else. If we ever need more cash. Or … if I just want to have a little fun.

  JO and AMIE look at each other.

  MARCIE: I wouldn’t mind having more fun …

  Blackout.

  THE END

  Claire Burns (Jo) in George F. Walker’s The Chance, holding the three-hundredthousand-dollar cheque.

  Violet (Catherine Fitch), dragging an unconscious Leo (Tony Munch) in Her Inside Life at the Assembly Theatre in Toronto, Ontario (October 27 to November 18, 2018).

  HER INSIDE LIFE

  PRODUCTION HISTORY

  Her Inside Life was first produced by Low Rise Productions at the Assembly Theatre in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, from October 27 to November 18, 2018. It played as a double bill with Kill the Poor, produced by Leroy Street Theatre. The cast and crew were as follows:

  VIOLET

  Catherine Fitch

  CATHY

  Sarah Murphy-Dyson

  MADDY

  Lesley Robertson

  LEO

  Tony Munch

  Director

  Andrea Wasserman

  Stage Manager

  Jenna Borsato

  Set Designer

  Chris Bretecher

  Lighting Designer

  Chin Palipane

  Sound Designer

  Jeremy Hutton and Will Jarvis

  Costume Designer

  Kathleen Black

  Graphics Designer

  Fo
ok Communications

  Photographer

  John Gundy

  SETTING

  A low-income five-storey apartment building.

  CHARACTERS

  VIOLET, early fifties

  CATHY, late thirties

  MADDY, late twenties, Violet’s daughter

  LEO, late forties, Violet’s brother-in-law

  SCENE 1

  A small two-bedroom apartment. Simply furnished. Reasonably tidy.

  In the darkness we hear the building’s fire alarm and several sirens down on the street.

  VIOLET, in her early fifties, is sitting on her couch and seems to be trying to block out the sound by humming to herself, in tune with the sirens.

  Suddenly she stands, goes into the kitchen, checks all the burners and the oven. Nothing’s on.

  She returns to the couch, sits, stands again, then returns to the kitchen and checks the oven and burners again. Still nothing wrong. She returns to the couch.

  A knock on the door. She ignores it. Another knock, louder. She tries to ignore this one, too, but it’s harder.

  CATHY: (from the hall) Violet! (knocking) Violet! … (knocking) Vi! Open the door! You have to let me in. There’s a fire in the building. You have to leave. Did you hear me?! There’s a fire!

  VIOLET: (to herself) Well, it’s not in here. (to Cathy) I checked my stove! It’s fine!

  CATHY: (off) Let me in!

  VIOLET: No. Go away. You’re making me nervous.

  CATHY: (off) I mean it, Vi. If you don’t let me in, you’re not going to be allowed to stay here.

  VIOLET: You mean while the fire is still going?

  CATHY: (off) I mean ever. You’ll have to go back to the hospital.

  VIOLET: That’s out of the question.

  CATHY: (off) No! It’s not. Now let me in.

  VIOLET: Okay, but you’ll have to calm down a little. Like I said, you’re making me nervous.

  CATHY: (off) Jesus. There’s a fire in the building, Violet!!