Cover

Title page

Original Production

NSFW was first performed at the Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Downstairs, London, on 25 October 2012. The cast was as follows:

Characters

CHARLOTTE, twenty-five

RUPERT, twenty-eight

SAM, twenty-four

AIDAN, early forties

MR BRADSHAW, late forties

MIRANDA, late forties/early fifties

Note on Text

A forward slash indicates interrupted speech.

A comma on its own line indicates a beat; a silence shorter than a pause, or a shift in thought or rhythm.

Thanks

I would like to thank Simon Godwin, Dominic Cooke, Mel Kenyon and Ed Hime. There are also a number of people who generously gave of their time, knowledge and experience who do not want to be named, but they know who they are and I thank them too.

L.K.

This text went to press before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

1.

The editor’s office of Doghouse magazine, a weekly publication for young men. The magazine’s name appears in neon on the wall. Beyond the door, an open-plan office.

There is a pool table, a fridge of drinks. A dartboard. The editor’s desk has a desktop Apple computer on it. There are framed prints of topless photo shoots on the walls. A cricket bat in the corner. An enormous Liverpool FC flag strung from the ceiling. The pool table is strewn with toys and gadgets and computer games that the magazine has reviewed or is reviewing.

CHARLOTTE, a middle-class girl from outside of London who now lives in Tooting, is sitting on a chair, a folder in her lap, furiously writing notes. She has other files on the floor which she consults from time to time.

RUPERT, an upper-class boy from Berkshire who now lives in Hoxton, watches her. Bored, he yawns, looks about the office. Wanders over to the pool table and gives it a kick.

RUPERT. When I first started here, we used to play on that all the time.

This place has gone to the fucking dogs.

He sits down on the floor at CHARLOTTE’s feet.

Scratch my head.

Without looking away from her work, or stopping writing, CHARLOTTE reaches a hand out and scratches RUPERT’s head. He groans in pleasure.

SAM, a working-class, university-educated boy from outside of London who now lives in Archway, enters, juggling a cardboard tray of coffees. He’s sweaty and frantic.

SAM. Am I late? Is he here?

CHARLOTTE takes one of the coffees. RUPERT takes another.

CHARLOTTE. He’s in a meeting with finance. Running late.

SAM. There was this woman in Starbucks, and she couldn’t make up her mind, she kept saying ‘There’s so much choice, isn’t there!’ and laughing, / I nearly –

CHARLOTTE. Sam? Calm down.

SAM. No just the thing is, is I was late on Monday too and I can’t, / I just can’t –

RUPERT. Mate. Last year I was reviewing absinthe for the June issue. I got completely munted, walked in here, Aidan’s taking a meeting with Roger fucking Highsmith, yeah? I don’t remember a thing but apparently I took out my cock and balls, jiggled them in my hand, said ‘How d’you like them apples?’ and threw up on his folding bicycle. I’m still here, aren’t I? It’s media. You’re not going to get fired for being late with some coffees.

CHARLOTTE. Yeah well, it’s different for you, isn’t it.

RUPERT. How is it different for me? I am a member of the workforce.

CHARLOTTE stares at him.

CHARLOTTE. D’you know how Rupert got this job, / Sam?

RUPERT. Classy. Really fucking classy, Charlotte.

CHARLOTTE. D’you think he did an interview? D’you think he spent hours checking the font on his CV?

RUPERT. Century Gothic, thank you and actually yes I did an interview and FYI, I didn’t conduct it on my knees, like some / people we COULD MENTION –

CHARLOTTE. He got a / THIRD. In ART HISTORY.

RUPERT sings, in a rather beautiful baritone, to the tune of ‘Mandy’ by Barry Manilow:

RUPERT. ‘Oh Charlotte, you came, and you gave me chlamydia.’

CHARLOTTE. Shut up! What’s wrong with you?

RUPERT. What? I’m just messing with you.

CHARLOTTE. Sam doesn’t know that.

RUPERT. Sam, I was messing about. It was jokes.

CHARLOTTE. I did not give him chlamydia.

RUPERT. No. Of course she didn’t. Of course.

Of course.

He winks at SAM, scratches his crotch. Mouths the sentence ‘It was crabs’ at him, shielding his mouth from CHARLOTTE’s view.

CHARLOTTE. What did you say?

RUPERT. I said IT WAS CRABS.

CHARLOTTE throws down her files, goes for him, he dodges her, laughing.

Her Secret Garden’s crawling with pests, Sam! Omnem relinquite spem, o vos intrantes!

She catches him, puts him in a headlock, sinks him to his knees.

CHARLOTTE. Where’s your copy? Aidan’s going to ask, what am I going to tell him?

RUPERT. You’ll think of something! / (Laughs.) Ow!

CHARLOTTE. Do I look like your mother? Do I look like your / fucking mother, bitch?

RUPERT. Oh, don’t let’s fight, darling! Not in front of the child!

CHARLOTTE. I’m serious, you fucking waste of space –

RUPERT. Sam, she’s flirting with me! You’re a witness, she’s flirting and it’s hurting!

AIDAN enters. A middle-class, educated, good-looking man. He is carrying a large oblong item, covered in brown paper and protective wrapping.

He stops, stares at the scene. CHARLOTTE and RUPERT disentangle themselves. Beat. AIDAN carries on across the room to his desk, takes his jacket off, dumps his bag.

AIDAN. Great issue. I really mean that.

SAM rushes to bring AIDAN his coffee.

(No, I’m alright, Sam, had one upstairs.)

SAM takes the lid off the coffee, knocks it back in one go.

The circulation’s finally taken a leap, it’s early days, but the heart monitor is flickering, it’s definitely flickering. Print journalism lives to fight another day.

A half-hearted cheer from the others. He holds up the parcel.

Just arrived from the print shop.

He pulls off the wrapping to reveal a large framed print of a topless girl, kneeling on an unmade bed. It’s not a professional-standard image, it’s been taken by an amateur. The girl has very large breasts, and is in a pose that emphasises this, arching her back, presenting her arse. A sexy face, lips apart, a finger in her mouth. She is undoubtedly beautiful, but also very natural, her make-up is a little crudely applied, her hair is a little wild, she wears a white-cotton pair of everyday pants, chipped blue nail varnish, plastic bangles on her wrists. AIDAN takes down last year’s winner from where it hangs on the wall, and places the new print in its place.

Lady and gentlemen, meet Doghouse’s Local Lovely, 2012.

They all look at it.

CHARLOTTE (reading from the caption). ‘Carrie, eighteen, likes Twilight books and theme parks.’

RUPERT. Chestington World of Adventures!

CHARLOTTE. It’s retarded. At least last year’s had the reading age of a grown-up.

RUPERT. Charlotte was reading Proust when she was eighteen.

CHARLOTTE. Rupert was playing soggy biscuit when he was eighteen.

RUPERT. Still do. Lovely end to an evening, a good round of old SB.

CHARLOTTE. What were you doing when you were eighteen, Sam?

SAM. Revising.

CHARLOTTE. No but for fun.

SAM. Revising. Pretty much from when I was sixteen, to when I came here, I was revising.

AIDAN’s looking up at the print on the wall.

AIDAN. I really like this.

RUPERT. Carrie, meet Humbert Humbert.

AIDAN. No, I do, I mean. Aesthetically. I think this is what we should be going for. Much more natural than last year’s. Natural’s good. There was a sort of, plastic quality to last year’s, around her –

CHARLOTTE. Tits.

AIDAN. No, I meant more in her / energy –

CHARLOTTE. Tits.

AIDAN. I mean, there was a quality, an overall quality that I found a bit, intimidating. But this is good, it’s very real very next-door very normal. How many entries did we have this year?

SAM. Nine hundred and sixty-nine.

RUPERT laughs. CHARLOTTE gives him a look.

RUPERT. Sixty-nine.

AIDAN. Not bad. Up on last year.

CHARLOTTE. It was Sam’s choice.

AIDAN. Yes, I know. It’s an excellent choice, Sam.

SAM. I thought she looked friendly. Sort of, approachable.

They all look at the print.

CHARLOTTE. Yeah, that’s the word. Approachable.

,

AIDAN. Once more unto the breach.

AIDAN sits behind his desk. RUPERT and CHARLOTTE grab the two other chairs in the office, SAM has to make do with a beanbag.

I just want to start by saying thank you. I know how hard you’ve all worked, these last few issues, and I want you to know it’s been noted, and appreciated. Charlotte, I’ll send round an email, but if you could pass on my gratitude to the rest of the staff?

CHARLOTTE notes this down.

However, there’s a long way to go. The climate is very hostile. As you know, two of the publications in our demographic have gone under in the last three months.

Half-hearted cheer from CHARLOTTE, RUPERT and SAM.

We’ve gained a little from their readership, but not as much as we’d like. And this is an opportunity, I don’t think we’ve fully grasped that yet, I mean we’ve got the C2DEs, they’re with us, but if we’re clever we can broaden our appeal, scoop up some of those ABC1s – you don’t look excited.

Everyone tries to look excited.

This is exciting. We’re not talking about editorial overhaul, but a tactical repositioning. There’s an existing mission statement, no one’s saying touch the statement, Roger’s certainly not saying that, but I’m giving you licence here to be bold, guys, be brave, yeah? There’s always room for jokes, there’s always room for boobs, that’s a given, but what else is there room for?

RUPERT puts his hand up.

Rupert?

RUPERT. Bums?

AIDAN. Bums don’t sell, what I’m saying is, is let’s really live in the spaces between the boobs, yeah? Let’s not let them outgrow us, I want you all to keep putting yourselves in the head of that eighteen- to thirty-five-year-old man. Thinking about who he is and what he wants to spend his disposable income on, what does he talk about with his mates, what makes him laugh, what Doghouse magazine can give him that he can’t get anywhere else.

So, on that note.

Our next Man Challenge.

The others groan.

Who wants to go to the Arctic for a week? Charlotte?

CHARLOTTE. Survey says uh-uh.

AIDAN. Rupes?

RUPERT. Already been.

AIDAN. When?

RUPERT. School trip.

SAM. What’s it like?

RUPERT. Pretty cold.

AIDAN. We’ll get you some mittens.

RUPERT. No. I’m sorry but no, I did the diet. You said, if I did the diet I didn’t have to do any more Man Challenges for at least six months, you said.

AIDAN. But this one will be fun.

RUPERT. I ate nothing but meat for six weeks, Aidan.

AIDAN. The readers loved it.

RUPERT. I had to go to the hospital to get my bowel medically dis-impacted.

AIDAN. The message boards went crazy.

RUPERT. And before that I did the sleep deprivation, I was hallucinating for five days. I saw pixies in my soup. Do you know what that’s like? To be eating a bowl of minestrone and see evil pixies frolicking on your spoon?

CHARLOTTE. Is that a Nigella?

RUPERT. You promised. No more Man Challenges.

AIDAN. Okay. Sam?

SAM. Yes?

AIDAN. Do you want to go to the Arctic?

SAM. When?

AIDAN. Next week.

SAM. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday.

AIDAN. Take her! See how many times you can have sex in sub-zero temperatures.

RUPERT. Before it goes black and falls off.

AIDAN. We’ll call it ‘Love in a Cold Climate’.

CHARLOTTE. It’s what Nancy Mitford would have wanted, Sam.

SAM. No, I’d, really like that, it’s just – I’ve booked a thing. For my girlfriend’s birthday, it’s her thirtieth / and –

RUPERT. Harold and Maude.

SAM. And I want to make it special so I booked this thing, I’ve been saving up my holiday time – I did clear it with Sarah.

AIDAN. What is it?

SAM. It’s just, a thing.

CHARLOTTE. A thing.

SAM. A thing, a treat a, surprise.

,

CHARLOTTE. Yeah?

SAM. No I’m just. It’s a bit.

,

Well, she’s called Rona. My girlfriend. Her parents named her after this island, in Scotland, which was where, well, they always said that’s where they fell in love, and they always promised to take her, but they never did and now, well, they both died, her mum last year, her dad like, five years ago.

And I’ve booked a sleeper train to Glasgow. And I’ve hired a car and, we’re going to drive out there, you have to go on a ferry and I found this, tiny little house on the beach that used to be a shepherd’s hut only someone did it up, it’s in the middle of a bird sanctuary and – she’s got this thing about puffins, she just –

Well, she really loves puffins, like if you ever need to get her a present, you just get her something with a puffin on it, like a mug or a T-shirt and she just, that just makes her day, and you can see them, the puffins, from this house and we both, we really like swimming in the sea, especially when it’s cold, that’s one of our things. And. And.

And I bought a ring.

So when we get to the island, and we’ve seen the birds, and we’ve swum in the sea –

I’m going to ask her.

,

So if it’s alright, I’d rather not go to the Arctic.

,

RUPERT. I think I’m in love.

CHARLOTTE. That’s very… that’s, / very lovely, Sam.

RUPERT rubs at his eyes, tearful.

RUPERT. I’ve gone. I’ve actually gone.

AIDAN. Write it. Write about that for us.

SAM. You want me to –

AIDAN. You want to be a writer or not?

CHARLOTTE. No, he wants to spend another nine months fetching your cappuccinos and judging tit shots. That’s why you did your MA, isn’t it, Sam?

AIDAN stands, excited.

AIDAN. No see this is what I’m talking about. We have an opportunity here, to move the readership on. The boys who started reading us ten years ago, they’re grown-ups now, they’re not out on the pull every Friday, they’re settling down, they’ve got mortgages, girlfriends they love. The climate is changing. They’re not just reading us for the tits any more.

RUPERT. Uh, I think the tits are quite a big part of it.

AIDAN. Okay, but they want to find a pair of tits to grow old with.

RUPERT. Again, I think they want to get old, while the tits stay the same age.

AIDAN. ‘How I Proposed to My Girlfriend.’ Seven hundred and fifty words. What do you think, Sam?

,

SAM. Wow.

AIDAN. Great.

SAM. Yeah, but –

AIDAN. What?

SAM. Just not sure –

AIDAN. You’re nervous, don’t be –

SAM. I’m not but –

AIDAN. I’ve read your samples.

SAM. I just / don’t think I want to.

AIDAN. You’re a good writer, what?

SAM. I don’t want to write about it.

AIDAN. Why?

SAM. Because it’s private.

AIDAN. The proposal?

SAM. Yeah.

AIDAN. But you just told us about it.

SAM. Yeah / but –

RUPERT. You did just tell us about it, mate.

SAM. But you’re my friends.

AIDAN. I’m not your friend.

SAM. No, sure but –

AIDAN. We’re your colleagues, I’m your boss. That’s why I’m asking you to – anyway, you don’t have to write the reality, you write the Doghouse version. When Rupert wrote the piece on being dumped by Pippa Middleton, that wasn’t you know that wasn’t gospel that wasn’t, you know, vérité, was it?

RUPERT. No. For a start, okay, it was me that dumped her –

The others groan, they’ve heard this grievance rehearsed before.

CHARLOTTE. Yeah yeah, we know, you’re too good for her –

RUPERT. For the party planner? Yes, / as a matter of fact –

AIDAN. What I’m saying is, this isn’t, I’m not asking for gonzo journalism here. I mean, hopefully the real thing won’t go wrong but it would be good, wouldn’t it, Charlotte, if when Sam writes about it, it goes wrong? A little / bit –

SAM. Wrong?

AIDAN. You know, awry.

RUPERT. Tits up.

CHARLOTTE. Just, structurally, if there were some obstacles –

AIDAN. You might forget the ring.

RUPERT. Or you might get cold feet.

CHARLOTTE. The island might’ve been used for chemical-weapons testing and the beach might be littered with the bodies of dead puffins.

AIDAN. Keep it light.

RUPERT. Get pictures.

AIDAN. Yes, get pictures, Charlotte, can we loan Sam a decent camera?

CHARLOTTE nods, writes a note. RUPERT looks to AIDAN.

RUPERT. Although. I mean. What’s your girlfriend look like?

SAM laughs.

SAM. Well, this is really funny actually because I always say she reminds / me of –

RUPERT. You got a picture?

SAM. Oh. Yeah.

SAM whips out his phone, finds a picture on it, gives the phone to RUPERT. Turns back to AIDAN as RUPERT examines the picture.

It’s not that I’m not very grateful for the opportunity.

RUPERT makes a face and behind SAM’s back mimes the words ‘big girl’ to AIDAN. SAM turns, RUPERT cuts the mime and hands the phone back to him.

RUPERT. Beautiful. Bet you wouldn’t like her when she’s angry though.

SAM. What?

AIDAN. You came to me, Sam, you sat in that chair during interview and claimed you wanted to be a journalist, on this publication –

SAM. I did, I do –

AIDAN. And I was very clear about / what that entailed, we’re –

SAM. I know –

AIDAN. – interested in your life, we need to know, / about your life –

SAM. Yeah, no I will, just –

AIDAN. What?

SAM. Just not about this one thing.

AIDAN. Why not?

SAM. Because –

AIDAN. I’m not trying to bully you, I just don’t / understand the problem here –

SAM. Because it doesn’t just belong to me, it belongs to her as well.

RUPERT. Stop talking about your herpes, Sam!

CHARLOTTE. Have you actually got an STD?

RUPERT. Fuck off.

CHARLOTTE. Just you go on about them all the time.

RUPERT. Actually, Charlotte, yeah, I think I’ve got like, AIDS, really really badly, cos I feel really tired and it stings when I wee. Actually I did get thrush in my mouth once from this girl so God knows what else she was harbouring. It worked in a Budgens.

CHARLOTTE. So not Pippa then.

RUPERT. No, not Pippa, God, I think her name was… I want to say Francesca? I mean, fuck, I hope not Pippa because I was hacking bareback that summer, if you catch my –

AIDAN sharply shushes RUPERT.

Rude.

AIDAN. Sam?

SAM. No I just feel. This is a, it’s a private thing. For me and her. And it’s, I mean I hope it’s something that will only ever happen once to us. Which is. You can’t say that about a lot of things. Can you, so I don’t want anyone else to…

I mean, it’s none of their business.

The public.

,

AIDAN regards SAM for some moments.

I’m really sorry. I could write a sort of general piece on –

AIDAN. I was really looking for a personal angle. Just that’s our house style.

SAM. Okay, well… thank you, anyway. / For asking –

AIDAN stands behind his desk, starts glancing through the layouts left there for his approval.

AIDAN. No, I mean. I think it’s a shame for you, cos it’s an opportunity, isn’t it, but if you don’t want it then. Can I get some coffee please?

SAM hesitates, AIDAN looks up at him.

Sam?

SAM. Yeah.

SAM, uncertain, grabs his jacket, leaves the room.

AIDAN. Where are the gaming reviews?

CHARLOTTE looks at RUPERT.

RUPERT. I’m just polishing.

AIDAN. Well, go and polish then.

RUPERT starts to leave.

Actually, one minute.

RUPERT turns back.

RUPERT. Yes, boss?

AIDAN. Do you own such a thing as a pair of snow shoes?

RUPERT gradually realises what he is implying.

RUPERT. No. No. You can fuck off. You can fuck right off. I’m not going.

AIDAN. Pack a few books. Kendal Mint Cake. You may be some time.

RUPERT. This is discrimination!

AIDAN. Against what?

RUPERT. Against privilege! You only make me do this stuff because of my dad!

AIDAN. No, I do it because it’s funny.

RUPERT. I’m not doing it. I’m just not. There is absolutely no way I’m freezing my bollocks off in the Arctic for your sadistic pleasure, no, I’m just not, you can fire me, I don’t care, that’s what a trust fund means, not having to take this sort of shit from people like you. There is no way, Aidan, I’m serious. Absolutely no way.

AIDAN. I’ll let you do the Louise Mensch interview.

RUPERT (panicked). You have to let me do that anyway, that’s my contact, Aidan, mate, don’t fuck about, / I set that up – !

AIDAN. Charlotte, would you like to interview Louise Mensch?

CHARLOTTE. Wow, / thank you, I’d love to.

RUPERT. That’s my contact – alright! All-fucking-right I’ll go to the Arctic! Fuck’s sake.

RUPERT goes. CHARLOTTE smiles at AIDAN, gets up to follow RUPERT.

AIDAN. Charlotte, wait a moment.

He crosses to her, shuts the door, they are standing very close, he looks at her.

You alright?

CHARLOTTE. Yeah.

She smiles.

You alright?

AIDAN nods. Smiles.

AIDAN. Bit tired.

CHARLOTTE. Yeah?

AIDAN. Didn’t get much sleep last night.

CHARLOTTE. No?

AIDAN. What about you?

CHARLOTTE. What?

AIDAN. Did you get much?

CHARLOTTE. Sleep?

AIDAN. Yeah.

CHARLOTTE. No. But I’m that much younger than you though, aren’t I? You don’t need it the same way. Not when you’re my age.

CHARLOTTE smiles. AIDAN, amused. They look at each other… but this is not the time or place. AIDAN smiles. Gestures to a chair.

AIDAN. Have a seat.

She sits. He sits in his desk chair.

I hope you don’t think I’m interfering.

,

CHARLOTTE. Okay?

AIDAN. I’ve got you an interview.

CHARLOTTE. Who’s it with this time? The naked yoga teacher?

AIDAN. No, for you. At the Indie.

,

CHARLOTTE. Are you – am I being fired?

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