Others are scared of you, think you’re some kind of witch. Not me. I see you pissing out here, rubbing yourself and I know. Look at you, like a bird in a trap.

He slowly pulls her closer.

I have dreamed of fuckin’ you; now I’ll make it real.

DR SIMON: [off, quietly] Jimmy. [Pause.] Jimmy, let her go.

JAMES lets her go.

JAMES: [looking off] Hello, Doctor Simon.

DR SIMON: Go back to the party.

JAMES: Why pick on me? She’s always out, every night, yapping to herself.

DR SIMON: Back to your ward.

JAMES goes. Silence. BETSHEB lifts up her dress, offering her body in gratitude to DR SIMON.

Put down your dress, Betsheb, and go to bed. Stef needs you; he’s very sick.

SCENE ELEVEN

The asylum gardens, a spring day. Birds are singing. BETSHEB drags out the body of STEF. He is dead, but she tries to play with him as she once did. DR SIMON enters.

DR SIMON: Let him go, Betsheb. Come on, let him go… He has to be examined by the coroner.

She advances on BETSHEB, who growls like an animal and lashes out.

Little bitch.

BETSHEB growls softly.

Like a bloody animal. [Pause. Angrily] He’s dead. If you hadn’t let him lie on the wet grass he wouldn’t be.

WILLIAM enters. His clothes are dirty and he is very drunk.

WILLIAM: [to DR SIMON, smiling] Fell into the flower bed. Blood and bone. Boy, do I pong! Betsheb!

DR SIMON: Doctor Archer, she won’t let go of Stef.

WILLIAM: So what?

DR SIMON: He’s been dead since early this morning.

WILLIAM is shocked for a moment.

WILLIAM: Stef?

BETSHEB: [anguished] Stef: ’e dead!

WILLIAM: No, not possible.

DR SIMON: The coroner’s waiting; we have to get Stef away from her.

WILLIAM’s sense of duty as a doctor returns.

WILLIAM: Yes, yes. [To BETSHEB] You must let him go, Betsheb, there is nothing you can do. Nothing more.

BETSHEB: ’E me las’ blood. Stef is me las’ blood. I am cast t’ the windy. ’E me las’ blood, boyo.

WILLIAM: I know, but you must give him up.

BETSHEB cradles STEF, focusing all her attention on him. WILLIAM starts to walk towards her, but trips and falls. He lands and turns on his back, grinning broadly.

Whoops-a-daisy.

For a moment he is bewildered, then he realises where he is.

[To BETSHEB] I’m sorry.

DR SIMON: You’re putrid drunk, Doctor Archer!

WILLIAM: God, help me, some women are observant. Yes, Doctor, I am going putrescent with alcohol.

DR SIMON: You’re as crazy as she is.

WILLIAM: I’m just drunk. Get a whiff of my clothes!

He laughs. DR SIMON hurries off.

[Calling after her] Call the cops! [Yelling] Call anyone you bloody-well please!

Silence. He stares at BETSHEB for some time, at a loss. All her attention remains on STEF as she cradles him. Pause.