"A Rose For Miss Farnley" : A Play For the Threatre

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"A Rose For Miss Farnley" : A Play For the Threatre

Post by sparacus on Mon Jul 28, 2014 6:04 pm

OK, here is a play for the theatre.

The Main Characters:

Miss Amelia Farnley: A 21 year old unmarried bank assistant who dreams of a better life.

Cresselda Markham : Amelia's wealthy schoolfriend.

Alex Markham: Cresselda's husband, a successful businessman.

Don Farnley: Amelia's father, a retired brewer.

Sarah Farnley: Amelia's mother, an alcoholic stamp collector with violent tendencies.

Rupert Farnley: Amelia's 19 year old brother.

Joe Hanning: A young bank clerk who is in love with Amelia.

Rob 'the Knob' Torregan: A young roofer who is also in love with Amelia.

Hubert Slurriman: A farmer in his sixties who is also in love with Amelia.

Miles Ashfordly : A wealthy young socialite in love with Amelia.


Scene One: The Farnley House

The interior of an average middle class house in suburbia. The decor is modern and well furnished, although with a strong impression of IKEA vulgarity. Don Farnley is reading the Times newspaper while his wife is watching an antiques programme on daytime TV.

Don Farnley: Can't you turn that damn thing off. You're not watching it.

Sarah Farnley:*shaking her head and wiping a tear* Is it any wonder I have to take solace in the television. Married to an insufferable bore like yourself all these years.

Don Farnley: Oh change the bloody record. Amelia will be home in a bit. At least she inherited my discipline and get up and go.

Sarah Farnley:*pouring a vodka* Those are Sansom traits not Farnley traits. She gets those from my family. If she had a surfeit of your genes she'd be walking the streets.

Don Farnley:What are you on about?

Sarah Farnley:Sex mad your family. All of them sex mad. Like your mother and all those sailors *knocks back vodka*.

Don Farnley:How dare you. My mother worked hard all her life.

Sarah Farnley:Yes, on her back. How your father put up with it I've no idea. They say he always had an itchy groin as well.

Don Farnley:What a crude and disgusting woman you are. I worked hard creating a successful business for you. I gave you a nice home.

Sarah Farnley:Yes paid for with my money. You had no idea how to run a business. Daddy had to bail you out time and time again.

Don Farnley:Yeah whatever.

The front door opens and shuts and in walks Amelia. She is in tears and flings herself onto the sofa.

Amelia: I can't stand that wretched bank any longer. I just can't. I've been shouted at all day and one woman called me a pasty faced little whore because her card had been swallowed by the cash machine. Its all too much. I may die. Bye.

Don rushes to his daughter and embraces her

Don Farnley:There there my princess. Its ok. Daddy's here.

Sarah Farnley:*Knocking back another vodka* Oh pass me the sick bucket. Put her down for Christ's sake. Amelia, pull yourself together, you're overdoing it dear.

Amelia:*Suddenly sitting up*. Do you think so mummy. OK, deep breath, fine now. Whats for tea.

Don Farnley:Your mother's foul shepherd's pie that tastes like she's used the dog's faeces in it.

The dog, Dionysus, wags his tail and gives a little bark


Don Farnley: Shut up.

Sarah Farnley:That's right, take it out on a harmless creature. Pig.

Amelia:Oh daddy, I'm sure mummy hasn't put Dionysus' poo poo in the shepherd's pie. It would make it go gooey.

The doorbell rings. Sarah gets up, knocking over a glass of vodka, belches and goes to the door (off set) She opens it and lets someone in then returns.

Sarah Farnley:Amelia, there is a young man to see you. Weedy looking specimen.

Joe Hanning walks in. He is a bespectacled youth with a nervous twitch.

Joe:Hi Amelia. I followed you home from the bank as I've become rather obsessed with you. I wondered if you would like to go out with me later to a wine bar or to the chamber music recital at the arts centre. Afterwards I could make love to you. I've brought you a rose.

Joe hands Amelia a red rose.

Amelia:Oh Joe. I'm touched, really touched. However I can't get past the fact that you look like a creepy nerd and have no personality.

Joe:But we get on ok don't we? As colleagues at the bank? I really like you Amelia.

Sarah Farnley:Take a hint boy and piss off. You aren't rich enough for Amelia. She has ambitions.

Amelia:I have ambitions. I want to lie on the back of a luxury yacht with the sun on my face and millions in the bank...

Joe:But I'm just a bank clerk.

Don Farnley:Exactly lad. I'd give up if I were you.

Joe:OK. Back out into the wilderness I go. But I will win you Amelia.Someday, somewhere there is a place for us.

Joe exits. Don gets up and strokes his forehead.

Don Farnley:Are you quite sure that he doesn't have money in his family? I mean he may have an inheritance due one day from his parents.

Amelia:He doesn't. They bank at our branch and I took a look at their balance when I first saw him looking at me goggle-eyed. They're mortgaged to the hilt and have a couple of grand savings that's all. I have dreams. I want more.

Don Farnley:Fair enough. Lets have that foul shepherd's pie before the cack goes cold.
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Re: "A Rose For Miss Farnley" : A Play For the Threatre

Post by sparacus on Tue Jul 29, 2014 3:34 am

Scene 2

The Waterman Wine Bar. Amelia is out with Cresselda Markham and her husband Alex. She is upset.

Amelia:*Head in hands* My life is in a complete rut Cress. I don't think I can take another week in that bank, all those ghastly plebians shouting at me through the glass because they've run themselves into debt and the dreary people I have to work with. Its too much. I want more out of life.

Cresselda:Hey that's like so so sad Am. You should marry a rich man like my Alex *squeezes Alex's hand*.

Amelia:Yeah right. But where are they Cress? Where are all the decent guys? You know earlier tonight I had that nerd Joe from the bank come round trying to take me out.

Cresselda:Euuggh poor you. What kind of self-respecting girl would go out with that. I'm glad I found Alex *strokes Alex's face*. He's excellent in bed and more importantly rich. He's brilliant at football and coaches the junior team.

Amelia:I bet you know how to make a woman feel special don't you Alex.


Amelia: Has he bought you anything recently Cress?

Cresselda:*stroking Alex's knee* Yes, here look *shows Amelia her new gold watch*.

Amelia:Thats utterly beautiful. I feel bereft. I'm lost in a world of mundanity where I'm taken for granted and tossed about by life. I may die. Or have a valium.

Miles Ashfordly enters and goes up to the bar. He is a young man of around 21 and dressed in expensive casual clothes.

Cresselda:*Nudges Amelia who spills some her drink* .Now what about that? He's like gorgeous. I wouldn't mind him giving me a night of passion. Get in there Am. Ask him how much money he has.

Amelia:I don't dare approach him. I feel like a kitten in these situations.

Cresselda:OK, watch the expert Am, watch the expert.

Cresselda put down her drink, gets up and goes to the bar. In the distance she immediately strikes up a conversation with Miles and fondles his hair.

Amelia:She's certainly got the gift of confidence hasn't she Alex?


Cresselda leads Miles back to their table.

Cresselda:Miles I'd like you to meet my husband Alex and my best friend Amelia. Alex runs a highly successful computer software business and Amelia is stuck in a dead end job at the bank.

Miles:Hi everyone.

Amelia:Hi Miles.


Cresselda:Miles has been telling me all about his family's investments and how he is independently wealthy. *To Miles* Here go and sit next to Amelia. She's desperate for a guy. I know she's not as attractive as myself but she's still a bit of a looker and she'd do anything you want given how desperate she is.

Miles:Hi Amelia. You ok babe or can I get you another drink?

Amelia: Hi Miles. I'll have a vodka and soda, with ice.

Miles goes to the bar to fetch the drink. He plucks an ornamental pink rose out of a flower display near the bar

Cresselda:He has a lovely bottom Am. Wouldn't mind getting my hands on that. But Alex might get jealous.


Miles returns with the drink and the rose

Miles:Hey babe, I got this for you.

Amelia:Oh Miles that's so sweet of you. Ravish me later.

Miles:Cool babe, I'd love to.

Amelia:Can I just ask about your income. What would you say your monthy income is once you take the overheads out.

Miles:You mean net babe?


Miles:Oh I'd say around £10,000.

Cresselda:£10,000? That's more than Alex brings in. You must be lying.

Miles:*laughs* Hey babe its no lie. My parents made a fortune investing in Eastern Europe after the wall came down. None of us have to work.

Cresselda gets up and sits herself down in between Amelia and Miles. She strokes Miles' leg.

Cresselda:Hey Miles, how about we go to a club together after we've finished these drinks.

Miles:But Amelia...

Cresselda:Oh you don't want to worry about Am. She likes sitting here and thinking about what a dreary failure her life is as it reinforces her sense of identity.

Amelia:*Distressed* But he's my date Cress.

Cresselda:Don't be so possessive Am. It simply reinforces in people's minds that you are desperate and does your image no credit.

Amelia:What about Alex?

Cresselda:He can go home and watch the football. If I play my cards right tonight they'll be a divorce then you can have him.

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Re: "A Rose For Miss Farnley" : A Play For the Threatre

Post by sparacus on Sun Aug 10, 2014 9:51 am

Scene 3: Following morning: The Farnley House

Sarah Farnley is sat in the lounge reading the Daily Telegraph. There is a banging noise coming from the roof. Sarah looks up, frowns and pours herself a large gin and tonic from a glass jug. She gulps it down and pours another. Amelia appears at the top of the stairs holding her head in her hands. She slowly descends.

Amelia: Mummy what's that noise? My head feels awful.

Sarah Farnley: I thought you'd gone to work. What is it this time, another migrane?

Amelia: Oh mummy you know about my heads. When I get one I can't concentrate. I get big throbbing heads all the time.

Sarah Farnley: Well lucky you dear.

Amelia: Not funny mummy.

Sarah Farnley: Well you're hardly likely to get on at the bank if you keep having all this time off. Suggests a lack of commitment.

Sarah pours herself another gin and tonic and knocks it back, turning over a page of her Daily Telegraph.

Amelia: Oh you've some need to talk mummy. You haven't worked in years.

Sarah Farnley: *looking up* Amelia, as you well know I am a non-functioning alcoholic. I cannot work. You however are an ambitious and thrusting young woman with plans.

Amelia: Not today mummy. Not today.

Sarah Farnley: Oh do try to avoid repeating your phrases twice Amelia. Its so contrived. If you will go out on the town on a work night then what do you expect? I presume it wasn't a good night?

Amelia: It was rank mummy. Cress went off with a bloke and left me with Alex.

Sarah Farnley: I see what you mean. He is rather a basic conversationalist. However he's on a good salary. Did he mind Cresselda going off with another man?

Amelia: I don't know. He just sat there.

Sarah Farnley: Poor boy. Didn't you offer to console him with a bit of a romp in one of the back alleys?

Amelia: Mummy! I'm not some kind of tart.

Sarah Farnley: Oh don't be so prudish dear. It doesn't become you. You used to be such a vivacious girl once. You've lost that.

Amelia: Its my life mummy. Its hit a brick wall. I'm in a rut. When am I ever going to meet a decent guy?

In the background, the banging on the roof stops.

Amelia: What was that banging?

Sarah Farnley: Not the kind of banging you need dear. That was the roofer replacing those tiles that blew off in the thunder storm last week.

As she speaks, Rob 'the knob' Torregan, the roofer walks in holding a hammer. He is a good looking muscular youth of about twenty with cropped blond hair and a laddish demeanour.

Rob: Thats it, all done Mrs Farnley. 'ope I wern't too noisy like.

Sarah Farnley: Oh thats quite all right young Rob. I like a man who puts some effort into it.

Rob: Is there anythin' else you want lookin' at while I'm 'ere like? The gutterin'?

Sarah Farnley: Oh I think the guttering can wait. Come and sit down. There's a nice cold beer in the fridge waiting for you. *to Amelia* Amelia go and get Robert a beer from the fridge.

Amelia: But that's daddy's beer.

Sarah Farnley: JDI dear. Just do it.

Rob sits down on the sofa and Sarah picks up her glass of gin & tonic and goes and sits next to him, stroking his inner thigh.

Sarah Farnley: So Rob. Do you like your job Rob?

Rob: Er yeah. Gets me out the 'ouse like.

Sarah Farnley: Good. Well have to find some other, how shall I put this, servicing that you can do here today.

Amelia returns with the beer and hands it to Rob.

Amelia: Oh mummy do stop groping his leg like that. What if daddy could see you now.

Sarah Farnley: Your father wouldn't care less. He'd dead from the waist down. *To Rob* I'm so sorry Rob. This rude little mare is my daughter Amelia. She has ambitions but at the moment she's having a duvet day as she went out last night and her best friend got the guy and she was left alone with her friend's monosyllabic husband. She leads a dull life but is aspirational.

Rob:*edging away from Sarah* Oh I know 'er like. When I was doin' the roof I had a good gawp through a gap in the curtains of her bedroom winder as she was gettin' dressed. Lovely curves she has. *To Amelia* Hi, my name's Rob. Me mates call me Rob 'the knob' as I have a massive member.

Amelia: Oh. Pleased to meet you Rob. If you're that well endowed then you've got a girlfriend surely.

Rob: Only kiddin' babe. They call me Rob 'the knob' because I'm a knob.

Amelia: In what way are you a knob, Rob?

Rob: I likes to do daft things for a bet. Like runnin' stark naked through a mosque or dancin' on top of police cars.

Amelia: Oh I see. You do sound like a knob. Are you a knob on the job, Rob?

Rob: Yeah a bit. I moans a lot so I'm a knob with a gob on the job called Rob. Ere I've got you somefink.

Rob pulls a crushed pink Rose out of his back pocket and gives it to Amelia.

Amelia: What is this object?

Rob: Its a Rose from your garden like. I nicked it when I got down from the roof. Will you come out wi'me tonight? I knows how to show a girl a good time. Romantic like.

Sarah Farnley knocks back a gin and tonic and frowns.

Sarah Farnley: Young man, there is no way that Amelia would consider going out with a low paid roofer in filthy overalls. She has aspirations.

Amelia: I'm sorry Rob but mummy is right. I do like you in the purely physical sense however a bit of rough is all you could ever be. I can't get past the fact that you're a scruffy prat with an idiotic sense of humour who gives crap presents and talks like a chav. Please don't take that the wrong way though, I don't mean to offend you in any way.

Rob: Oh well. It was worth a try. I'll just give your mam one instead. Many a good tune played on an old fiddle.

Rob moves back next to Sarah Farnley who puts her hand on his knee. As she does so Don Farnley enters the room

Don Farnley: Amelia, do tell your mother to take her hands off that workman. This is the third one this week.

Amelia: Why do I always have to do it daddy.

Don Farnley: Because your mother is a drunken old soak who doesn't listen to a word I say.

Sarah throws a lamp at Don

Sarah Farnley
: You cold hearted pig.

: Why is my life such a mess? Why am I not sitting on a beach somewhere with the man of my dreams instead of stuck in this pathetic dead end?

Sarah Farnley
: Oh do lighten up Amelia. You're overdoing it again.
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Re: "A Rose For Miss Farnley" : A Play For the Threatre

Post by sparacus on Tue Sep 09, 2014 11:30 am

Ok here is the next scene:


Scene 4 : Lunch at the Farnley House

Don Farnley is sat at the dinner table reading the Financial Times. Amelia is also sat at the table, painting her nails. Off stage Sarah Farnley is banging and crashing the pots, pans and cutlery

Don Farnley:*Looking up* It sounds like your mother is in one of her moods again. Mind you, when isn't she.

Amelia:Its all your fault daddy. She's angry that you kicked that roofer out instead of letting him have his way with her on the sofa. However I do understand your position, given the utter grossness of it *carries on painting her nails*.

Don Farnley: Your mother goes too far Amelia. Any other man as wealthy as myself would have divorced her years ago and shacked up with some 25 year old blonde floozy. However I'm just too good natured.

There is the sound of someone coming downstairs and in flounces Rupert Farnley, Amelia's 19 year old brother, who is taking a year out before going to Reading University to study Art History. He is in his dressing gown.

Rupert: What's for lunch? I'm simply gagging for something to fill me up.

Don Farnley: Aren't you dressed yet? Its the afternoon.

Rupert: Oh you're so bourgeois father.

Don Farnley: And you're shaping up to be a bone idle sponger. A year out from study means a year to earn some money towards you're uni living costs or to do some useful charity work. It does not mean a year to lie in bed.

Rupert: As I said, bourgeois. The petty minded parochialism of the merchant class. *To Amelia* What was that banging I heard earlier. It disturbed my sleep.

That was the roofer. He offered me a crumpled rose and tried to give mummy a good seeing to on the sofa. He was called Rob and was tanned, muscular and gorgeous. However he was poor so I gave him the brush off.

Rupert: Tanned,muscular and gorgeous? And you let him leave without meeting me? How could you Am? I'm hurt.

Amelia: Oh Rupert you are such a drama queen. Rob was interested in menot you.

Rupert: I can't think why. I've always been prettier than you even as a child. You looked like a pug dog while I resembled a young Adonis.

Don Farnley: Oh for heaven's sake.

Sarah Farnley emerges from the kitchen carrying a plate of sandwitches and a bowl of side salad. Don looks over his paper as she puts them on the table.

Don Farnley: Is that it? Chicken bloody sandwiches and a poxy salad?

Sarah Farnley: If you don't want it then make yourself something.

Don Farnley: All I'm saying is that you could, you know, make an effort. Pretend that you're a normal functioning housewife instead of a booze addled boiling hen with a penchant for younger men.

Rupert: What a common little man you are.

Sarah Farnley: Oh your father can't help it. He's just bitter 'cause he can't get it up anymore and his investments keep losing him more than he gains. Just like his business did. All paid for with my father's legacy money.

Don Farnley: Oh not this again. Change the bloody record. *Picks up a chicken sandwich and cringes at it*.

Amelia: Why don't we all just take a deep breath and try to be nice to each other.

Sarah Farnley: Shut up Amelia.

There is an uneasy, embarrassing silence as they start to eat, apart from Don who throws down the sandwich in disgust and reads his paper. Suddenly there is a loud knocking at the door.

Don Farnley: *Looking at Sarah* Answer the bloody door then.

Sarah throws one of the sandwiches at him

Sarah Farnley: You answer it.

Don gets up to answer the door while Sarah goes to the drinks cabinet and pours herself a large vodka. Don returns with Hubert Slurriman. Hubert is a disheveled man in his sixties with a red face and weather beaten farmer's clothing.

Sarah Farnley: *politely* Oh hello Mr Slurriman. We were just having a bit of lunch. Would you like to join us?

Don Farnley: Everyone please note how your mother puts on her false 'nice' front when somebody visits only to return to being a complete bitch when they leave. But don't mind me, do carry on.

Sarah Farnley: What a pathetic, failure of a man you are. *To Hubert* Do sit down Mr Slurriman and have a drink with us.

Hubert: Why thaaat'll be grand, oi think oil 'aaave a laaaarge whisky if you've got one goin'.

Sarah Farnley: *Pouring Hubert a whisky* We haven't seen much of you for a while Mr Slurriman, not since Don sold the business and retired. You were one of our best customers when we had the brewery.

Hubert: Oh aaaar and roight good beer it waas an all. Moi faaarm 'ands used to sonk it all day an' get more done as a result than stayin' sober. An me old dear woife, God rest her soul, loved your mellow stout so she did. Aye I miss the old girl roight enough.

Don Farnley: Yes we were all very sorry about what happened to your wife Hubert. The bull turning on her like that. You must have been devastated.

Oi waaas an thaats no loi. Eee were me prize breedin' bull an' them fellas from the police forced me to 'ave im destroyed aaafter loike. An eee was booked in to get aaaall me neighbours cows up the duff in the spring.

Is it me or does this farmer smell of faeces? Its so utterly disgusting.

Hubert: Ere whaaats he sayin'?

Don Farnley: My son thinks you smell of ¤¤¤¤ Hubert. Which is a bit rich considering that he talks nothing but that substance.

Hubert: *Laughing* Oh thaaats only moi pigs. Oi waaaas just cleanin' them out afore I came round. Ere laaad, you don't want to get all hoity toity about a bit a pig muck or folks'll think you're one a them naaancy boys.

Don Farnley: He is one of them nancy boys.

Hubert: Is 'eee? Oi didn't mean no offence loike. Oi aaad a boar once that waaas that way incloined. Eeeee kept rogerin' the other boars and wouldn't go near the sows eeee wouldn't. A roight good seein' to eee gave 'em an all. They grunted loike 'ell an' it didn't alf make their oyes water.

Sarah Farnley: That is all very interesting Mr Slurriman but what is it that we can do for you. Would you like to buy some of our remaining whisky stock?

Oooo ahhh oil take two crates if thaaat'll be ok. O've brought the traaacter an trailer. However thaaats not the main reason I'm 'ere. Oive come to see young Amelia 'ere.

Amelia: Me?

Hubert: Thaats roight. O've been noticin' you lately. A roight comely wench you've grown into. Noice big breedin' hips an a roight big pair of breasts you've got on you. Hows about becomin' me new woife? It gets lonely up in thaaat cold farmhouse aaall on me own of a noight. Oil seeyou're aaall roight. Oive got thousands staaashed away. Oi waaas goin to spend it on a new comboine 'aaaarvester but oid rather spend it on you if it means oi get me oats every noight. Ere, oive brought you a present.

Hubert reaches into his jacket pocket and hands Amelia a red rose

Amelia: It smells of pig manure.

Hubert:Ere thaaats just 'cause its been in me pocket. Its a good un thaat is. There were a funeral up at the church next to moi faaaarm yesterday, old Stan Molloy it was. So oi 'elped moiself to one of his flowers as he still owed me for 'alf a dozen eggs when eee carked it.

Amelia:*Throwing down the rose* You mean to say that you've brought me a rose off a dead man's wreath? I'm upset and disgusted.

Ere don't upset yourself loike. Its not loike old Stan'll be needin' it where eee's garn to. Hows about a kiss for moi trouble.

Amelia:Go away you disgusting man. No I won't marry you, not now and not ever. I do like the fact that you own your own farm and you clearly have land assets of some value. However I have to balance that against the fact that you smell of excrement, are the wrong side of sixty and are extremely ugly. The latter points tip the scale against your proposition.

Sarah Farnley: Amelia, I do think that you should give this one more thought. Mr Slurriman's farm is very large and really is worth a lot of money.

Amelia: I'm sorry mummy but my mind is made up.

Hubert: Hows about oi give 'er more toime to decoide. A week loike. Oive known a lot of fillys in moi toime an' they chops and changes their moinds like oi don't know what. Oide love to get me 'ands on them plump jugs of hers an them strong lookin' breedin' hips *licking lips*.

Rupert: Look my sister doesn't want you ok? Now please leave as you are causing me stress.

Hubert: Ere in the roight koind of loight you could paaass for a young filly yourself. Hows about I gives eee a troi out an' if oi likes what oi gets oi could 'aaave you instead.

Rupert: I feel faint. I think I'm going to pass out.

Amelia: When am I going to meet the man of my dreams? All I am getting is a collection of unwanted roses from a group of unwanted losers. When will my Prince arrive with the rose of my dreams and take me up into his safe, strong arms? Until then I am bereft of life.

The curtain falls.
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Re: "A Rose For Miss Farnley" : A Play For the Threatre

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