Natasha holds up the paper to the audience.

‘Now, my dearest child, those are great marks but don’t get ahead of yourself.’

‘No,’ Natasha says, seriously.

‘Don’t lose the run of yourself.’

‘I won’t.’

Lucy-as-nun rests her tiny hands on the side of the desk as if she is interrogating Natasha. She lowers her spectacles. ‘Do you promise to leave this place and never look back.’

‘I promise, Sister.’

‘So you swear to leave this slum, the giant quarry in which you were born, and never to gaze upon it again?’

‘I swear, Sister.’ Natasha smooths down her skirt as if in preparation.

‘Do you promise to rise to moderate heights with a quiet and civilised personality?’

‘I do, Sister.’

‘Do you swear to find a good man and accompany him to all social occasions where you will have only one single brandy over the course of the evening?’

‘I will do that to the best of my abilities, Sister.’

‘Now, if you find out your husband has been living a sort of double life and he buys you a car as compensation, what do you say to that?’

‘I say: “Is that Unleaded or Diesel?”’

‘Very good, my child.’ Lucy adjusts her habit and gazes out proudly. ‘Now, before you leave this school forever, I’m going to impart some information about college.’

‘I would appreciate that, Sister.’

‘There is no bell in college. No bell like this.’ A school bell screeches out. ‘But that doesn’t mean you can just stand up and leave whenever you want.’

‘No, I agree, Sister.’

‘No vulgarity, no ugliness, no stupidity.’ Lucy-as-nun ticks the rules off on her fingers. ‘And finally you must swear not to get sidetracked by hormones, false promises and immoral behaviour, and never to just do whatever with whoever comes along at the time.’ Lucy throws a bucket of ice water over Natasha’s head. An ice cube bounces off Natasha’s noise. It barely registers with Natasha. She wipes water from her face, but her expression doesn’t change.

‘Pray for me, Sister,’ she says, water dripping onto the floor.

‘I will pray that you turn into a magnificent young woman in a place that doesn’t have time for the second rate. One final thing,’ Lucy-as-nun says, ‘you’re going to need this.’ She dumps the second bucket over Natasha’s head, sending paper money flying through the air, the sheets settling onto Natasha’s hair and soaking wet uniform.

‘Thank you, Sister,’ Natasha says and stands up. ‘All of this has been very useful.’

Lucy blesses herself. Out of her robe, she pulls a toy gun. She slips off her nun-costume and underneath wears a stripy T-shirt and jeans. She grabs Natasha’s hand. She shoots her toy gun into the ceiling. It emits a gentle flare. ‘This is a stick-up,’ Lucy shouts.

Natasha giggles nervously.

‘We’ve got a girl here … ’

‘Me,’ Natasha says.

‘Who has been accepted to the best college in this country.’ Lucy turns the gun to the front row, directly at the acting troupe. ‘So you’re going to need to put the money in the bag. We can’t have her mucking around up there like a child from an uncultured and ugly hick town. Take a look around you, she’s a long way from home. So let’s get on with it.’ She fires the gun two more times and, as she does so, Natasha and her separate. Natasha pulls the string and the screen fills the background once more. She puts a phone on the desk. She takes off her wet jumper and sits down. She wipes her face. She puts on Lucy’s abandoned spectacles. Lucy drags in her own chair and sits opposite Natasha.