5
Bim in his wheelchair is sitting beside his mother who is in bed. The noise of traffic hangs about the air like an odour. Bim is reading a magazine.

“Cor look at this,” he says. “They can take ya face off and put on a new one, only it ain’t new cause it belongs to some other fella or a woman of course; although that might be a bit of a shock, ya know, if ya was a bloke and ya got a woman’s face. Cor yeah, it’d be a right blow. Well ya wouldn’t need ta shave no more which might be a bit of a send, ya know, to not shave, cause it don’t half take up the free time in the morning. But, then, I suppose, it is a bit of time to yaself, ya know, a bit of time to take a good look at yaself and ya can kind a look at yaself and kind a size yaself up. That’s the good thing about shaving, except, of course if they was to put a new face on ya, it wouldn’t be you. So it wouldn’t just be the people that ya’ve known all ya life that would be confused, it would be yaself; only it wouldn’t be, would it? Ya know? It wouldn’t be yaself.”

“What do you think mum? Would it be me? Would I still be your little boy? Everything else about me would be the same, but summut, summut would be dead. Not different. Dead. Ya know?”

“But would it be that ya body would take over ya new face, the way ya move and everything. Would the way I am change the new face for me or would the new face give you a new bit of life? You could get the face of a eighteen year old, so summut would have to change, that’d be daft, a pretty face with your bones.”

“Christ, what would dad say? Eh? You know don’t ya? Ya can’t forget him in a hurry. Ya just ain’t got words ta tell it, that’s all. Just cause you ain’t got em on ya tongue, don’t mean you can’t take em away. That’s right innit? Cause they’re still buzzing around up there, I knows they are, ain’t it Mum. Eh. Still buzzing all them words an pictures.”

“Is he with ya, like, now, is he? Yeah, I bet he is. I’d like that, yeah, to have him here with me now. You’re lucky, I reckon, to have im with ya like. He’s never quite been there for me, ya know. Never quite.”

The doorbell rings. Bim squeezes Agnes’ hand. “Won’t be a tick.”

6
Bim comes out of Agnes’ room. He looks up the staircase. He then wheels over to the door and opens it. The Sainsbury deliveryman is standing at the door with a crate of goods. Bim leads the deliveryman into the kitchen.

“Just leave it on the table, ta.”

“There ya go.”

“Cheers.”

Very loud music is suddenly heard through the walls, a relentless, muffled pounding, Country and Western beat. Bim tightens up with anger. The deliveryman looks at him, “it’s loud.”

“Yeah,” growls Bim, “he buries people in his back yard.”

The deliveryman looks at him.

“Yeah,” he continues, “he’s got high walls so no-one can see in.”

The deliveryman smiles.

7
Bim rings the bell of the front door of his next-door neighbour. The music can be heard in side.

He begins to ring and ring.

He holds the bell down.

Bim’s mouth screams through the letterbox. “Oi ya fucking cunt, turn the fucking music down! Oi turn the fucking music down!”

Bim hits the door.

And hits the door.

And hits the door.

Someone walks by and stops. “You alright, dear? Forgot your key?”

Bim just looks at her.

8
In Agnes’ room the muffled music is pounding. The telly is on. “I know, mum, I know,” says Bim. “Deaf to the fucking world he is. Inconsiderate sod.”

He thinks of something.

“Wait there.”

He wheels out.

Agnes is left with the music and the telly. Her eyes are red.

Bim comes back in. “I’ve got just the thing,” he says triumphantly.

He wheels round and climbs up onto the bed. He reaches into his pocket and takes out some cotton wool. He puts a large piece of cotton wool into each of Agnes’ ears.

They stick out in clumps.

She looks at him.

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