[Woman enters and sits. Sure she is somebody. She is certain that she exists. She can feel herself breathing]
[A man enters and stands behind her chair.]
Man : Did you pay the cheque in?
Woman : Which cheque?
Man : The cheque! The bloody cheque!
Woman : I'm sorry. I don't know what cheque you are talking about.
Man : [Draws in breath] It is always the fucking same. I come home after working my arse off to keep this roof over your head and you can't do the one thing I have asked you to do. One thing! What have you been doing all day? This house isn't clean. Look at this!
[She looks at the table. She can see nothing. She is sure there is nothing]
Woman : I don't know what I'm looking at.
Man : That's the thing. You never do. Let me tell you about you. You came here to this house with nothing and you treat it like the hovel you came from. Just like your mother. Sponging off your father all her life. You eat my food and take my money. I do everything for you and you just whine and moan. My life isn't worth living some days. What do you do for me? I'm depressed that's what I am and no wonder with you to come back to sucking the life out of me. My friends think you take the piss. They laugh at me. Their wives have a meal on the table when they get home. Where's mine? You've been off doing your crappy things again haven't you? Sooooo glad you get to have such a good time while I'm out at work. Well that can stop. You aren't going there any more. My friends say you're mad. They say that you need help. And don't think I don't know about you throwing yourself at the barman last week because they told me. You slag. Never have sex with me. Not that there's any point. You're terrible any way. Think you're clever. Read all the books. Can't deliver a decent blow job though can you? Not like a normal woman would. No wonder I feel like this all the time. Men get angry when they don't get enough. No wonder I'm always angry. Don't give me that look! I suppose that stupid cow Jenny has been talking to you again? Telling you how horrible I am? Yeah well, she would. She's got 3 kids by 2 different dads. She's a slag too. She uses you. She talks about you behind your back you know? Only wants you because you lend her stuff. Who else would be friends with you? All your friends think you're mad. Because you are. You are a fucking mad bitch. I'm going out and I'll be back when I'm ready.
[A child enters. Dressed as a fairy. She has wings and a wand and a pink sparkly dress. ]
Child : Mummy! Guess what I am!
Woman : I don't know darling. What are you?
[The woman sits on the chair and doesn't know what she is. She isn't sure she exists. She isn't aware that the police exist]
The police are going to need a lot of funding and a lot of training to give this woman back her life. I hope they get it. I hope they don't tick boxes and move on whilst a woman dies inside her own body.