JULIE enters.

Don’t criticise Mussolini here, or it’s the closed ward for you.

ROY goes and sits at the back of the stage grumpily imagining the triumphs that might have been.

LEWIS: [to JULIE] I don’t know if you’ve heard, but without Doug we can’t do Così. No one else will volunteer for it.

JULIE: I heard. No one in Roy’s ward will volunteer because they say they get enough of him as it is.

ROY: [overhearing] It’s only their sense of humour, you pathetic junkie.

JULIE: [paying no attention to ROY] I thought you might want to put on something else.

LEWIS: I have an idea.

ROY: Oh, really, what is it? ‘Pussies on heat’?

LEWIS and JULIE pay no attention to him.

JULIE: I’m glad. I like doing theatre, even though it’s my first time.

LEWIS: Really? I didn’t think you liked what we were doing.

ROY: Give her a poke and get it over and done with, that’s what directors do.

JULIE and LEWIS find themselves, almost automatically, moving out of ROY’s hearing.

[Yelling after them] If you poke the director, you’ll get the best role. [To himself] Couldn’t direct a nymphomaniac to a stag night.

JULIE: I like it because I’m doing something. Using up energy. Getting out of my ward. God, how I hate that ward.

LEWIS: You don’t like it here?

JULIE: [laughing] What gave you that idea? My parents had me committed. They think it’s sort of like a holiday. Those dirty white and olive walls give me the heebie jeebies, they really do. Così gave me something to think about, something to do. [She laughs.] See, I’m happy coming to this burnt-out theatre. [Pause.] Doug… It’s peculiar about drugs. Doug hates them because he likes to be naturally high all the time. Zac likes them because everything passes like he’s in a dream or limbo. I think I’m a naturally addictive personality. I like what they give you here, because not to be on drugs, whatever sort, is like being in limbo for me. Drugs make me feel sort of living. Completely the opposite for Doug. Especially junk. Ever had it? No, you haven’t, I can tell. A bit of pot, touch of acid, right?

LEWIS: What’s it like?

JULIE: Junk? Like lying in a warm, cloudy river. Some people can’t imagine life without love, well I can’t imagine life without junk. I know it’s stupid, that’s why I like doing this theatre thing. Doesn’t make me sit in my ward thinking, what I need right now is… I’m really full of beans, you know? I could cut your hair in a minute flat.

LEWIS laughs.

ROY: [yelling over at them] So, what’s the new play, a one-woman monologue?

They pay no attention to him.

JULIE: I could, you know. That’s my profession. Hairdresser. I’d do a good job on you now because I’m not on junk. On junk… holy, holy Moses… [She laughs.] You know, just before I came here, a woman was in my salon for a trim. Just a little bit off here and there. I’d just shot up. Beautiful stuff. Felt like mercury, no finger could hold me down. I had the nods. Everything became real slow. Like time standing still. Each hair required absolute concentration. Hour after hour I devoted myself to that hair and twelve hours later that woman was still there, minus a few curls, if that. She hadn’t moved. Too scared that I was going to snip everything except her hair. [She laughs.] I should have charged by the hour.