Jasmine and Her Mother

Sound: A kettle boiling and the kettle switch flicking off.

MOTHER: I thought that, by the time the kettle boiled, I would know what to say to you

Sound: Two mugs being placed on a kitchen worktop. The rustle of two teabags and rattle of a cutlery drawer.

JASMINE: And?

MOTHER: Sugar?

JASMINE: No. No sugar.

Sound: water being poured into a mug. Footsteps passing on the street outside.

MOTHER: I know that. Well, I thought I knew you, didn’t I? Thought I did.

Sound: teaspoon against the rim of a mug

JASMINE: you still do

Sound: Mug slamming onto kitchen worktop

MOTHER: (deep sigh) Do I? Do I really? Until five minutes ago, I thought so too.

Sound: chair scraping the kitchen lino. Creak of a chair.

MOTHER: now, I don’t know.

JASMINE: You still do. (SLURPS TEA) You’ve not even looked at me.

Sound: fingers drumming. Whistling outside, footsteps outside.

MOTHER: because I can’t. (SIGHS) I really can’t. I don’t know what to say Jasmine. I don’t even know what to think, what am I meant to think.

Sound: Footsteps on the kitchen lino, the sound of the kitchen tap.

JASMINE: I don’t know, Mum, I don’t know what to do. (TAPS FINGERNAILS AGAINST THE MUG) I thought if I told you. If I told you, it would go away. Somehow. It would go away.

MOTHER: (SIGH)

Sound: tap being turned off, plates in the sink.

MOTHER: What did you think I would do? Really Jasmine, how do you think? How do you think this will go away? (PAUSE) How long have you known?

JASMINE: I first missed my period about the time I went back to school after the holidays.

MOTHER: September?

JASMINE: Yes. September. I kept hoping it would go away.

Sound: water splashing in a washing up bowl. A plate placed violently on a draining board.

MOTHER: And three months on? How is it now? Has it gone away?

JASMINE (BARELY AUDIBLE) No

MOTHER: (LOUDLY) No. No it hasn’t has it? Three months on and what’s happened? All these lies, Jasmine, all these lies and what’s happened?

JASMINE: I didn’t lie. I didn’t. I didn’t mean to, Mum.

Sound: Tea towel being folded, chair against lino.

MOTHER: You’ve not told the truth though, have you Jasmine? Not exactly been honest.

JASMINE: Please don’t be angry with me, Mum

MOTHER: Please don’t be angry with you? Jesus Christ, Jasmine. Here you are about to be a mother and all you’re cared about is, what? If I’m going to ground you? If I’ll stop the credit on your phone?
Sound: tissues pulled from a tissue box.
(BLOWING NOSE) look at you. You’re just a child yourself.

Sound: car accelerating in the street outside. Silence in the kitchen.

MOTHER: Does he know?

JASMINE: Dad? I was going to.. I was going to phone him after I’d told you. I wasn’t going to tell him until I’d talked, until I’d talked things through with you.

MOTHER: Oh. Oh your father’s going to love this. His baby girl pregnant. At fifteen. That’ll be one Hell of a phonecall, Jasmine, it really will.

JASMINE: that was why..I thought that maybe you… Maybe you could tell him

MOTHER: Maybe I could tell him? Oh no you don’t sweetheart. That pleasure’s all your own. You know who he’ll blame for this, don’t you? Hmm? You know he tried to get me to stop you seeing Paul, don’t you? But oh no, I said, she’ll be okay. After all, she’s such a very sensible girl. And to think he was worried about your GCSEs…least of your worries now, isn’t it?

JASMINE (SLURPS TEA)

MOTHER: Anyway, what I actually meant was, does Paul know?

JASMINE: PAUSE

MOTHER: Well, does he?

JASMINE: No. Well, no. I’ve not told him. I think he knows that… he doesn’t know that I’m…but he knows somethings up.

MOTHER: (BITTER LAUGH)So, what? Christ, Jasmine, three months and you’ve not told noone. Just you. Knowing. Just you knowing on your own. Christ, Jasmine

JASMINE: I wanted to talk to you first. But Mum, oh Mum, I just didn’t know how. But I can’t…It’s only now that I’m beginning to show a bit and I don’t know what to do. Mum, what do I do? What do I do about it?

MOTHER: Oh, Jas. Jasmine, love. I’m not sure that I know either. I honestly don’t. You’re fifteen. Fifteen. All I know is, in my world, just until a few moments ago, in my world, fifteen year olds they just didn’t get pregnant. I suppose that’s naïve of me, isn’t it? Me and my safe little, naïve world.
(PAUSE)
So, that makes two of us. Naïve. And stupid. And don’t know what to do.
(PAUSE)

Sound: Cars in street outside. Birdsong.

MOTHER: So, what do you think Paul will say? He’s going to have to know soon. It’s just not fair otherwise. On him, you know. It’s not fair.

JASMINE: I’m not sure. His family is quite devout.

Sound: creak of a chair in the kitchen

MOTHER: Not devout enough by the look of things though. So you’ve obviously thought about that option, then. Thought about not going through with the.. (SIGH) You’ve thought about having a termination, then?

JASMINE: Termination. Yeah. An abortion. I don’t know. I don’t know if I can, if I could.

Sound: tissues pulled from a tissue box.

MOTHER: this tea’s gone cold

Sound: chair on lino, footsteps on the lino, tea poured down the sink.

MOTHER: want another cup?

JASMINE: No. No thanks.
Sound: kettle switch

MOTHER: think perhaps I may be better with something stronger (BITTER LAUGH) Gin, perhaps. Bit of Mother’s Ruin for the pair of us, eh, Jasmine?

Sound: teapot lid being removed from teapot

MOTHER: No, I’ll make tea, instead. Because that’s what mothers do. They make tea. They boil the kettle and make tea and deal with all the problems by juts getting on with it. Because, sometimes, that’s all you can do, just get on with it. And I look at you today and I just think…. I just think are you really ready for that, at fifteen?

Sound: kettle boiling

MOTHER: but it’s done now isn’t it? And whatever you choose Jasmine, and it is whatever you choose- I’ll help you- but its your choice, not mine, your life. Your bloody mess. It’s not going to be easy, whichever way you choose. There’s no easy option. But I suppose the pair of you should have thought of that.

Sound: A kettle boiling and the kettle switch flicking off.

But it’s a bit late for that now, isn’t it? Bit late for a lot of things.

Sound: Rustle of teabags, sound of sobbing.