Cast
Jilly: a fifty year old woman.

Scene
I hate parties. They’re always so full of… people.

Over there is Samantha Hobbs, chatting away and charming everyone within a two metre radius. They don’t know she cheated on her husband with two men. There’s Beck Brooke. She stole a child’s bicycle and gave it to her niece. Beck’s talking about global politics like she knows how to save the world and plans to do it after she’s finished the canapés.

Jono appears. “Jilly! This is Pete. Pete, my little sis.”

A stocky man sticks his hand out. I don’t take it. “Oh, hi. Sorry, I have a cold. Don’t want to infect you.”

Pete says no worries and touches me on the shoulder. All of a sudden, I am Pete. I’m drunk and screaming. “Who asked you what you think? Huh? I didn’t ask you… Don’t you talk back at me! I will be as loud as I damn well please in my own house… What did you call me?” I hit my girlfriend across the face. She stumbles back and I press forwards and follow up with two more. She crumples to the ground and I’m Jilly again.

Jono and Pete are looking at me expectantly. One of them’s asked me a question I didn’t hear. I’m good at covering by now so I say, “Oh well, what can you say?”

They look at each other and I excuse myself. I weave my way through the gathering and into the bathroom, where I put my face under icy cold running water. I don’t quite vomit but I sure feel sick.

I am cursed. The first time I make physical contact with a person, I become them when they were at their worst. I’ve felt the rush of adrenaline as I smash a beer glass over someone’s head. The thrill of sliding someone’s wallet out of their back pocket. I have lied, cheated, stolen, assaulted, sexually assaulted, carjacked and even kidnapped. The things I’ve done keep me awake every night.

I’m nauseous and want to go home. I’ve been here long enough to keep my brother happy so I go back out and tell him I’m leaving. He hugs me. It’s the longest I’ve stayed at a party in two years and the subtext of that hug is, “I’m glad you’re getting better, sis.”

That night my dreams are tortured and I come to work exhausted. I tell my PA I’m flat out with the Dawson Project – which I made up four months ago – and shut myself in my office. If I wasn’t on the executive I’m sure I’d have lost my job a year ago.

There’s a knock at my door and in comes John Millicent. “Jilly. You look like death tied you to a tree and buggered you all night.”

He used to deal cocaine and once sold to a thirteen year old. “Thank you, John. Lovely of you to notice. Do you want something?”

“Auditor’s here.”

Crap! Forgot about them. I head to reception and there’s a young woman and a man about my age. I lose time when it happens so I use a strategy to touch them at separate times. I greet the younger one first with a smile and a nod, then step forward to shake the older one’s hand.

I am Steven Holsworthy. I am fifteen and sitting in music class. Dawn Summers is at the front of class playing flute for her exam and I supress a laugh as she makes a mistake, then stops, then false starts, then rushes out of the room. I crack up. I switched part of her score for a photocopy of my butt.

The auditors are looking at me strangely and I smile at Steven. If that’s the worst thing he’s ever done he mustn’t be half bad.

END OF EXCERPT​​​​​​​