Low life

Happy families

Jeffrey Bernard

Luckily for Old Mother Hubbard there were no social workers around in her day. Had there been, to judge by recent events in Wigan, she and her children would have been evicted from the boot and forcibly separated by local authorities. I had meant to mention the strange goings on in Wigan before when I was interrupted by the untimely demise of Marcos the pelican, but although the Wigan affair occurred three weeks ago, it's still worth consideration. What happened was this. A couple who've successfully fostered 47 children for Wigan Council had their adoption request rejected on the grounds that their marriage is regarded by social workers to be unacceptably happy. A child growing up in such circumstances wouldn't be sufficiently exposed to 'negative experiences'. The couple enjoyed a marital relationship where rows and arguments had no place, they said. Yes, quite disgusting.

Scene 1. Exterior Comprehensive School. A bell rings and children begin to run out of the classroom door and we follow them on to a playing field. We track in to two of them, Mandy and Richard, who sit down on the grass. Mandy starts making daisy chains. Richard throws back his head and giggles uncontrollably.

M. 'What on earth's the matter with you? If you're not smirking, grinning like an oaf, or giggling you're doing handsprings.'

R. `Oh, I had such a super weekend I just can't get over it.'

M. 'Why, what happened?'

R. 'Mummy and Daddy had the most fantastic row on Saturday night. It completely ruined Sunday. It was really great.' M. 'How did it start?'

R. 'Well, in the usual way. You know, Dad said Mum had always held him back — what he could have been and all that — then she said why didn't he take his things and move into the pub or the golf club or better still stick his head in the micro-wave and keep it there.'

M. `You lucky beast. Go on.'

R. 'Well then he started on her appearance and went on about how fat and ugly she was getting and she said good and how it made her feel quite sick to be touched by him. Anyway, I went out to get some sweets at that point and when I came back Dad was swilling the whisky in the kitchen and I could hear Mum upstairs sobbing in the bedroom.'

M. 'Really groovy. Amazing.'

R. 'Yeah, then Dad said go upstairs and tell your mother if she's not down here in three minutes I'll be up there and kick the door in. Anyway, to cut a long weekend short they had a tremendous punch up and I had to get Doctor Baker round to put some stitches in Mum's eye and then Dad lost the weekend shopping money in the betting shop. They haven't spoken a word to each other since.'

(He lies back on the grass with a blissful look on his face. Mandy gives a huge sigh.) M. 'God, you're a lucky sod, Richard. I had a perfectly beastly weekend. My parents make me really want to puke.' (She starts rolling a joint)'Would you bloody believe it, when I got home from school on Friday, Mummy was arranging two dozen red roses Dad had just bought her for their 20th wedding anniversary. D'you realise how much pot or speed you could buy for the price of that? Dad was in the kitchen washing up and grinning like a Cheshire cat when I went in and he said there was a surprise and that we were going to a show and then out to dinner and that on Saturday he was going to take us to France for the day. Then he said he was going to give me extra pocket money starting this week. He's a real creep. He even held Mummy's hand in the theatre and I could hear them laughing in their bedroom later after we got home. I can't sleep in that house without taking downers.'

R. 'Christ, doesn't he ever hit her?'

M. 'God, no. Once he accidentally bumped into her in the garden and bruised her knee with the wheelbarrow, next thing she's in the London Clinic surrounded by a fruit and florist shop. I've got this recurring nightmare that they're going to live happily ever after. Honestly, I just can't wait to leave home.'

R. 'D'you know, I don't think I ever will. After all, I've got everything I want really. Mum's so depressed all the time she doesn't give a damn what I do and Dad's so pissed he doesn't notice. No, I'll hang on in there 'til they snuff it then I think I'll turn the house into a disco.'

M. (tears running down her cheeks) 'If you don't promise to marry me after we've taken our `A' levels, Richard, I'll bloody well send a social worker round to your place.'

R. 'Don't be daft, they're always dropping in poncing cups of tea. They love my Mum and Dad.'

Fade Out. Grams up. `Home Sweet Home'.