Rafael wakes early. It is the morning of an important job interview. Even when his rival for the post drops out, he is still interviewed. "They did not ask if I wanted the job" is the precursor to violent and life-changing events for Rafael and his wife Zofia.
Rafael wakes early. It is the morning of an important job interview. Even when his rival for the post drops out, he is still interviewed. "They did not ask if I wanted the job" is the precursor to violent and life-changing events for Rafael and his wife Zofia.
Narrator
On the day of the interview Rafael wakes at 3.56 a.m., his mind immediately busy with how the day will go. When he next looks, the clock reads 4.08. He groans, turns. Zofia stirs but doesn’t wake. He sits up, puts the headphones on and tunes in to the BBC World Service. A documentary on the ‘biblical’ exodus from the Middle East and North Africa.
After a few minutes he turns it off, reaches for his reading light and makes a to-do list. Mind still buzzing, he picks up his book. He reads to the last page. It’s 6.25. He gets up, makes tea, fills two mugs and returns to bed. As Zofia comes to, she reminds him about their dinner date with Fran and Christof, the postponed visit to her mum and dad, and repairing the chair with the wobbly leg. He adds them to the list.
At breakfast, Zofia goes through their thoughts about moving house, her choice, his choice, what would be right for the baby when it comes. She knows he isn’t listening. He knows she’s talking only to distract him. At the last minute, as they are both about to leave for their workplaces, she gives him a hug.
Zofia
Don’t stress about it. You’re the best. Knock ‘em dead.
Narrator
He flinches, as if from sleet.
Rafael
Zof, it’s all a set up.
Zofia
No, Rafael. You have loads more experience than Rob. And David said he’ll support you.
Narrator
He recites the litany.
Rafael
They redefined the job to get rid of me. It’s their way of getting back at David. They’re sacking me because they can’t sack him.
Narrator
They’ve been through all this before. It’s a ritual. For her, David’s support is key. She met him once at a dinner party and was mesmerised.
He drives in, eyes screwed up against the champagne sunlight, the radio on. The local station is playing Cream, ‘Sunshine of Your Love’. It’s been continually cloudy since Valentine’s, until today. The sun is giving him a headache. He talks over the music.
Rafael
How do I see my career unfolding? Interesting question. I’d say my confidence in any kind of desirable future is a big fat duck egg, squire, thanks for asking.
Narrator
When he arrives at work there is no sign of Rob, his friend and job rival. He sits in front of his laptop, hands idle, eyes not moving. He hears David lead two of HQ’s divisional directors, Hodgson and Fuller, into the meeting room next to his office. Banter about the fine weather and summer holiday plans settles to a murmur. Ten minutes pass. Still no Rob. His relief vies with a growing disquiet.
His mobile rings. It’s him.
Rafael
Rob! Where the hell are you?
Rob
I’m withdrawing my application. I can’t talk about it now, but maybe over a pint when the dust settles? I’ll phone Hodgson when he arrives.
Rafael
Christ, Rob. He and Fuller are already here.
Rob
Better get on then. The field’s all yours, mate.
Narrator
Soon after, he hears the meeting room phone ring. David’s voice, then Hodgson’s, then a short discussion among the three. David is at his open door.
David
Rafael. There’s been a development. Rob has withdrawn.
Rafael
Oh?
David
They’re absolutely furious. You can imagine. As soon as the way forward is decided, I’ll let you know.
Narrator
Another 25 minutes pass. David appears again. The interview is going ahead.
David
They tried to abandon it. I insisted, so they were on to Personnel. Personnel were sterling, told them they had to proceed - Matheson himself phoned back to give them both an earful So, just play a straight bat. Nothing to worry about. All right? Come on in.
Narrator
He heaves himself out of the office chair and follows David next door. The divisional directors hold him to account for decisions it’s David’s to make and barely question him about his relevant experience. Their parting shot is an angry reference to ‘mission drift’ and the need for a ‘tighter accountability regime going forward’. David sits back, enjoying the impotent fury of his antagonists. At the finish Rafael returns to his office to wait.
Ten more minutes pass. The HQ directors sweep into his room, coats on, briefcases in hand. They stand over him like a couple of hooded crows and gracelessly confirm the job offer, hedging it with several caveats. Their bodies almost jam in the doorway in their haste to leave.
He sits. After a few minutes he runs for the gents, crashes into a cubicle and vomits. When he eventually emerges into the corridor, he hears David’s commanding voice in the open general office. He wanders towards it, walks in. David is sitting on one of the desks, his legs dangling, giving a blow-by-blow account of the interview, all five staff grouped in front of him. When he notices Rafael he stops, then quickly recovers.
David
Ah, Rafael. I was just briefing our colleagues. I’m sure they’ll join me in congratulating you.
Narrator
Joan and Imelda do just that, smiling inanely. Even worse, two others offer sympathy. Dave puts a hand on his shoulder and leans in - for his ears only.
Dave
You’re better than any of them, mate. Effing suits.
Narrator
Mags approaches, her face arranged to say: “I feel your pain”. She wraps her arms around him and rubs his back.
Mags
Oh Raffie! So sorry.
Narrator
Coral - the only one likely to know how he’s feeling - hangs back, stricken. Rafael nods to her. Her eyes tear up. He looks away. He returns to his work den. After a few minutes staring at the laptop screen again, he gets up and goes to David’s office. Seeing Rafael at the open door, David puts aside the document he’s been annotating.
David
Rafael. Close the door.
Rafael
I’m feeling unwell. I need to go.
Narrator
David sees him all the way out to the car park, smothering him with praise for the calm way he has dealt with such a difficult situation. The sunshine is making him wince.
David
Are you OK to drive? Should I phone Zofia to collect you?
Narrator
A seagull starts to fuss from the top of a nearby building, followed by a raucous antiphony even closer by. Rafael says something that David doesn’t hear.
David
Sorry?
Narrator
Rafael raises his voice.
Rafael
They didn’t ask me if I’d accept the job.
Narrator
David looks queasy for a moment.
David
Well, there you go. What can you expect? They must have broken every rule in the book. If they’d cancelled, I would’ve had good grounds for a complaint.
Rafael
Nor did you.
David
What?
Rafael
You didn’t ask either.
David
Well, I, er, know your family situation of course..
Narrator
…says David, smiling. The gull chorus stops. Rafael gets into the car, opens the window, and starts the engine.
David
Well, OK, Rafael. Just for the record, then: you do accept the post?
Narrator
In response he drives away, tyres spraying pea shingle behind him.
Rafael pulls into a lay-by a short distance from the office. Home is the first turn off the next roundabout; the second exit is for the coast. One day he will recount the image that floods his mind: driving straight over the cliff, the onrush of rocks and spume in endless replay. He takes the coast road.
He drives down the winding highway to the unseen port below. Since boyhood, the imminence of the sea has always made him hold his breath. But just before its panoramic reveal, he’s forced to slow and stop at the tail end of a queue. He waits. It’s dual carriageway; he can’t turn back.
He turns the radio on. ‘Walking on Sunshine’. On the opposite carriageway, there is a long single file of lorries moving slowly up the hill. When he looks across, he sees the men: all young, some bare-headed, black-haired, unshaven; others hooded. They’re running in twos and threes, trying to open the enormous back doors of the lorries - seen so often on the TV news, happening now in front of his eyes. The procession on the other side stops too, and he watches intently as one of the men succeeds in getting a door open. Another man scrambles up into the truck and turns immediately to offer his companions a hand-up.
Rafael
Here comes the sun and I say, it’s all right.
Narrator
Traffic on his side starts to move. A minute later, as he descends, three police cars tear up the hill, lights flashing, sirens wailing. He drives into town and finds a place to park. He walks down past shops and office blocks. There are more abandoned premises and pound shops since he was last here six months ago. Outside KFC an elderly couple approaches. The man speaks first.
Arthur, an old American man
Excuse me, sir. Can you tell us where the centre of town is?
Rafael
This is it.
Arthur
Oh, I was here before, see, just before D-Day. It was quite a town back then.
Agnes, an old American woman
Everything has its day…
Narrator
…says the woman.
Arthur
So, what the hell are we doing here Agnes?
Agnes
Your idea, hon. You tell me.
Narrator
Rafael starts to move off. The old man reaches out to touch his arm.
Arthur
Can I just say - I hope you don’t mind - I so admired you British. Talk about Dunkirk spirit. But I’m kinda puzzled. Back home we’re talking about having to build a wall to keep the Mexicans out – long, I grant you, but thin. You have thirty miles of sea between here and the continent - some wall, right? See what I’m saying? Why build a tunnel?
Narrator
Rafael reverts to the accent of his childhood.
Rafael
They build it to make it easy for us to get in.
Arthur
Us?
Rafael
The homeless, “tempest-tossed migrants”.
Arthur
Oh. I thought you… in your suit and all…
Narrator
Agnes tugs at her husband’s arm.
Agnes
Come along, Arthur. We’re holding the young man up.
Narrator
A breeze blows up from the port, rustling their twin cagoules as they go. Rafael shouts after them.
Rafael
“Bring me your poor, your huddled masses”!
Narrator
He stands for a moment, the ghost of a smile on his face. Back at the car park, he is ascending the concrete stairwell when he hears shouting. As he emerges onto the second floor, he sees two men running. They stop and appear to look for something or someone in and out of the parked cars. They are bulky, pasty-faced, shaven-headed, booted. A small movement to his left takes Rafael’s attention and he sees him, the quarry - a black-haired youth - crouching behind a car. His and Rafael’s eyes lock: he appears frozen in fear. Then a voice shouts out.
Youth
Oi! Dildo! Doughface! Lost something?
Narrator
He looks behind him. No one. When he looks back, the boot boys are both staring at him. The voice must have been his. Doughface turns to him as the other continues the hunt.
Doughface
None of your business. Walk away. Now.
Narrator
Doughface makes a threatening feint towards him, raising a fist. Rafael notices the knives both of them carry. He doesn’t move.
Doughface
You deaf? I said, walk away.
Narrator
Doughface moves towards him, eyes bulging. Again he hears the voice.
Rafael
You’re wasting your time. He just scarpered.
Narrator
The men exchange a look.
Doughface
Where?
Rafael
The shopping mall exit. Over there.
Narrator
At that moment the youth decides to break cover and run for it. Before the hunters have a chance to react, Rafael walks quickly to his car. He opens the boot and grabs a wheel brace and tyre lever from it. When he looks up again, the chase has resumed. The youth is running his way. He holds out the wheel brace.
Rafael
Take it.
Narrator
Rafael pushes the youth away to the left, moves right. The hunters split, each pursuing their own target. Rafael ducks down and doubles back to join the youth. They wait behind a van till one of the hunters appears.
Rafael
Psst! Dildo!
Narrator
Dildo has no time to defend himself. The youth darts forward and hits him with the brace just above his right eye. There is a moment of stillness. A small opening in Dildo’s skin begins to spurt blood, half blinding him. He cries out for help as his legs give way. He sags, dropping the knife as he grabs the mirror of the van to stop himself falling to the ground. Rafael indicates for the youth to follow him. They easily avoid a faltering Doughface looking for his injured mate. Once safely inside Rafael’s car, the youth looks to him. His face is lit up as if in ecstasy.
Zofia listens without interruption as he relates the story of the day’s events. His reduction to the role of David’s rescue-dog; his humiliation and shame in front of the staff; his anger and confusion; the spur-of-the-moment drive to the coast.
He doesn’t mention the random stuff - the migrants, the American couple, the car park incident. Nor – well, not yet - the text message he sent David just before returning home. She pulls him into a long hug.
Zofia
I thought you’d call straight away, let me know how you’d got on.
Rafael
I needed time to think.
Narrator
She leans back to look him in the face.
Zofia
All right. First off, you’ll have to apologise to David. The thing is: it’s OK. The job’s yours. We can move before the baby comes, hopefully, and we can be a family. Aw. You’ve done so well. I don’t think you know that. But it’s OK. Mmm? Everything’s going to be OK.
Rafael
Talk to me.
Zofia
I am talking to you, Raf. I’m talking to you now.
Narrator
Before he can say anything else, the doorbell rings. He stops her as she rises to answer it.
Rafael
It’ll be for me, I expect.
Narrator
She follows him out to the hall. She sees the flashing blue light as Rafael takes his coat from the rack.
Zofia
Police? Raf? What’s going on? Raf.
Narrator
He opens the door. Two uniformed officers are standing under the canopy.
Police Officer
Mr Sayeed?
Rafael
I’m coming. Give me a second.
Narrator
He turns back to Zofia.
Rafael
I’m just going to make a statement. Something happened.
Zofia
You’re not being arrested?
Rafael
I’m a witness.
Narrator
He shrugs his coat on.
Rafael
I’ve quit the job, Zof.
Narrator
She stares at him in disbelief. He cradles her face in his hands.
Rafael
It’s all right. Things will be different now. Better. We’ll talk when I get back.
Narrator
The panic in her eyes turns to something else as she watches him follow the two officers to their car. Something like relief, a bit of excitement mixed in. Something like hope.
-ends-