(Enter Lyllee, centre stage, maybe through the curtains.  She is in her late forties – more like early fifties, dressed smart – a bit over-smart, almost as if for a wedding.  Her name is pronounced as it is spelt, “Lie-lee”.  She holds, somewhat awkwardly, a handbag and a large white lily.  She stands, top lit, and drags frantically at a life-giving cigarette.  Lyllee eyes the audience as if looking for someone in particular.  Then she takes another life-giving drag.)

Lyllee

(Aggressively) I don’t smoke you know.  No really, I don't smoke. (takes another drag)  And I’ve not got big hips.  And I don’t smoke at all.

(Looks at audience)

Oh yes I can see you all out there judging me, every one of you.  Suppose I asked you (picks someone in audience who looks sufficiently like a school master)  Yes you   “Am I a smoker?”, I can just hear you saying it … oh very cool and knowing  … ”Well you  do appear to be smoking don’t you?”

Well of course I “appear” to be smoking, I am bloody smoking.  This is a bloody cigarette.  But the point is - I’m not a smoker.  And anyway what right have you got to tell me to stop smoking?  Bastard.  And I’m not foul mouthed either.

Anyway I can put it out right now before it’s even half gone. 

(She takes another last drag then throws it down and grinds it into the ground with the sole of her shoe). 

See.

Better have a mint quick.  Don’t want my breath to stink of smoke.

Lyllee

You don’t know nothing about me.  Nothing.  Except what I’m not.  I’m not foul mouthed, and I’ve not got big hips, and I’m not smoker.  But I can tell you what I am.  I’ve got it written down here.  (takes a little bit of newspaper out of her handbag and reads it)  “Lyllee: attractive slim feminine thirty five year old, GSOH” that means great sense of humour NS that means non-smoker, “WTM” that means would love to meet,  “attractive gentleman for country rambles, firelit finger feasts, talks, understanding and love”    “Echo box B256 forward slash jul2002” - if any of you men in the audience wants to write.

That’s me, Lyllee, spelt “L“ – “Y“ – double “L“ double “E”.  Slim and sophisticated but warm and feminine at the same time.  Like “Lily” only

Lyllee (contd)

more … sexy.  That’s why I’ve got this (shows audience the lily).  Slim and graceful, beautiful and amazing, sort of symbolizes the way I am inside.  Not virginal of course.  Or dead, though sometimes it’s almost as if I am now.  This makes it easy for the fellow to pick me out, too.

Wonder what he’ll expect.  Let’s see. “Loves the countryside”.  Well I would if I ever had time to get there.  And I’ve got lots of pictures of baby lambs and things on my calendar.

I’m not sure about country rambles but apparently it works.  Let’s hope this “gentle sensitive six foot Bill” isn’t a twitcher in an anorak.  Let’s hope he’s like me, enjoys thinking about long country rambles but never actually goes on them.

I was really proud of “firelit finger feasts”.  It’s sensitive and sensuous and childlike.  Yes that bits the real me.

“Great sense of humour”.  Apparently “sense of humour” is what everyone wants in a partner.  86% or all surveyed put sense of humour top.  Well that’s men and women.  Men alone put it second after big tits. “Attractive figure” as the surveys call it.  Huh, we all know what men like best of all is watching your tits wobble as you laugh at their jokes and gaze at them in awed admiration.  Well I can do that if I have to. (does a long contrived laugh while glancing at her cleavage)  Hell I hope this Bill doesn’t get round to smutty jokes – they all seem to in the end. 

Lyllee

So that’s me, Lyllee, slim, beautiful, sensitive, childlike, a dazzling natural waif.  That’s what I’m like inside.  I should know.  I’m the one that lives here.  The only thing that I really lied about is my age.  I said I was 35, but really I’m only about 12.  (suddenly almost in tears)  I’m just a child going around in a woman’s body.  And everyone expects me to be grown up and look after my family, and have a job and clean the house and everything.

(shouts)  I’m not grown up, I’m only 14 on the inside do you hear.  Leave me alone I’m only fourteen.

Oh now you’ve done it.  I’m going to cry and ruin my make-up then Bill will probably slink away without even talking to me.  Oh Christ I need a cigarette.

(Enter suddenly and silently another woman offering Lyllee a cigarette from a packet..  She is dressed in a smart executive suit.  She is very self contained and inside herself.  The opposite to Lyllee)

Christ

Here you are Lillian.

Lyllee

Who the hell are you?

Christ

I’m Christ, you just asked me for a cigarette.

Lyllee

Ha, bloody ha.  Very funny.

Christ

Don’t you want it then?  (makes to put it away and leave)

Lyllee

No, no, course I want it.  I’m desperate.  Thank you very much.  Got a light?

Christ

(The woman lights the cigarette –by a magical trick might be fun – but maybe just with her lighter)  Here you are Lillian.

Lyllee

Thanks.  I needed that.  Need to calm my nerves, an important meeting.

Who are you anyway?

Christ

I’m Christ.  You asked me for a cigarette.

Lyllee

Don’t be stupid, you’re a woman.  Christ was a man – remember?

Christ

I’m dressed as a woman at the moment.

Lyllee

(to herself)  Just my luck, a bloody-cross dresser who thinks he’s Jesus Christ.  The world is full of weirdos.  I can’t get away either, this is where I said I’d meet Bill.  Oh my God, perhaps he IS Bill.  (to woman)  You’re not Bill are you?

Christ

No I’m Christ.

Lyllee

Give me a break.  Christ was a man

Christ

I’m spirit, Lillian  Not a man or a woman.  What difference does it make how I’m dressed?  I’m Christ.

Lyllee

OK, OK, you’re Christ that’s all right by me. 

(Drags on the cigarette but then is drawn back into the argument because she’s in no mood to lose)

 Look, you can’t be Christ.  He was a man, you’re dressed as a woman and the bible forbids men dressing as women.

Christ

Where?

Lyllee

I don’t know …. But I’ve seen that man on the telly talking about it.  They did it all the time in Sodom and Gomorra and all the bloody cross-dressers got turned into pillars of salt. If you ask me it was a waste of all that fancy underwear these cross-dressers like.

No, I remember now.   It’s in the ten commandments.

Christ

Is it?

Lyllee

Yes.  “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s manservant nor his maidservant nor his ox nor his ass.  Neither shalt thou dress in the

Lyllee (contd

apparel of a woman unless thou be-est one.”

Christ

I don’t remember it like that.

Lyllee

I do.  As a matter of fact I’m a bit of an expert on the ten commandments.  I learnt them all off by heart as a kid.

Christ

I would have thought the only one you know about is the eleventh.

Lyllee

Eleventh?  There were only ten. 

Oh ha, bloody ha.  I remember.  “Thou shalt not be found out”

(Thinks)

Are you talking about smoking or something?

Christ

That and other things, Lillian.

Lyllee

Lyllee, I’m Lyllee here.  Anyway what are you talking about? 

Christ

You look nervous, Lillian.

Lyllee

Why do you keep calling me Lillian?  I’m Lyllee L – Y – double L double E. Lyllee.

Christ

Sorry, Lyllee

Lyllee

Anyway, who wouldn’t be nervous.  I’ve got to meet this Bill. .. “sensitive, attractive, 6 foot Bill”.  And he sounds all right – got a nice voice, but could be a bloody weirdo … like you … and I know it’s a big town but I still feel like everybody knows me and is staring at me.  And I don’t want anyone to see me.

Christ

Like Jonathon?

Lyllee

No not like Jonathon he’s just my husband.  Like my mother or my neighbours.

Jonathan wouldn’t even notice me.  It took him three weeks to notice when I died my hair blonde.

Anyway he won’t come here.  He goes out of town.  I know he’s gone today.  Spends hours polishing the car then tells me he’s going off on a bicycle ride to keep fit.  I know how he keeps fit.  I know he’s off to meet that anorexic tart from work.  He gets so worked up, one day he’ll be so excited he’ll forget to take the bicycle … well the one with wheels anyway.

Christ

Do you think so?

Lyllee

I don’t care.  If he doesn’t notice me I don’t care what else he does.

Anyway how do you know about Jonathon?

Lyllee (contd)

Oh I forgot.  You’re Christ aren’t you?  You know everything.

(pauses and thinks)

Bloody hell I must be hallucinating.  I’m so nervous I’m hallucinating.  Hell that’s never happened before.(to Christ)  You’re a figment of my imagination aren’t you?

Christ

No, no, it’s more the other way round

Lyllee

What do you mean?

Christ

I mean, in a way, you’re a figment of God’s imagination.

Lyllee

Too deep for me I’m afraid.  If I’m imagining you, why can’t you say something I understand?

(music swells so the audience is aware of it,  It’s Edith Piaff singing “What have they done to my song?”

Christ

You're not imagining me, I'm imagining you.

Lyllee

Well you're not doing a very good job that's all that I can say

Christ

Why say that?  I think you're rather wonderful.

Lyllee

Well it's you and me against the world isn't it?

Well Scooby used to think so too.  But he was a mongrel and he's dead. I used to think I was wonderful but I don't any more.  So it's just you ... and you're a figment of my imagination

Christ

No Lillian I’m not...

Lyllee

Oh shut up.  Anyway I'm not Lillian I'm Lyllee ... And ... Christ I need another cigarette.

Christ

Here you are Lillian.

Lyllee

Lyllee!  (takes the cigarette and waves it around)  If you're a figment of my imagination how come this is real?  I've got a good imagination but I've never been able to conjure up cigarettes before.  Can you do things like that?  Oh what a stupid thing to ask you if I'm just imagining you. 

Christ

You're not.

Lyllee

(ignoring the interruption and gazing at the smoke and making gestures with her hands to make it curl)  Isn't smoking beautiful?  Not that I'm a smoker of course, but it is beautiful.  Every little gesture marked by a twist or curl of the smoke as it disappears upwards into nothing.

Lyllee contd.

(Dreamily)  That's why I started smoking really.  Not because all my friends did it.  Not because it seemed grown up.  But because it was just, beautiful.

Listen to that music it's Edith Piaff singing "What have they done to my song?".  I bet she smoked.  She did everything. 

I remember all those films where people would gesture with their cigarettes and the smoke would curl up into the lights almost as if it was alive.  And all those things you could do with the packet, pushing the fags out, and shaking them and tapping them and passing them round.  There was a whole world in the way people smoked.  And lighting them, holding the lighter all protective or holding two cigarettes at once in your mouth and lighting them then handing one to your lover.  So bloody suggestive.  So beautiful.

(change of mood) And all the time it was giving people cancer.

Seeing you insist you’re Christ, answer me this.  How can you make anything so beautiful give people cancer?

Christ

There are lots of beautiful things that don’t give you cancer.

Lyllee

That’s not an answer.  Just one thing would be enough but there’s lots of them.  Everything I can think of at the moment.  Too much smoking and you get cancer, too much food and you get fat, too much sleeping around and you get AIDS, too much living and you get old and tired and miserable.  And all the time you feel just the same inside but it doesn’t show any more.  It was a beautiful world when I was young, and I’m still a beautiful person inside but outside I’m all broken and ugly and second hand and miserable.  The sort of woman you’d buy cheap in an Oxfam shop.

Christ

Oh cheer up Lillian.

Lyllee

Why should I cheer up, what’s there to be cheerful about?

Christ

You’re beautiful inside Lillian.  You just said so.  And you wouldn’t say anything that was untrue, would you?

Lyllee

Is that a joke?  Is that your idea of a joke?  Very sarcastic.  “A very sarcastic sense of humour.”  They never say that in the lonely hearts ads.  Sometimes they say “very dry sense of humour” -  sounds almost as bad to me.

(Turns to other woman)

You should know being who you are.  Does God have a sense of humour?  Does the Holy Ghost tell a good shaggy dog story?  Does the angel Gabriel make them roll around on the glassy sea as he does farting imitations on the last trump?  Tell me, do you have lots of good

Lyllee (contd)

laughs in heaven?

Christ

Lots of laughter, lots of tears.

Lyllee

Oh get out the violins!  I sometimes think God has a “very dry sense of humour”.  “I’m just going to show this man Job” or Fred Bloggs or Lillian Rogers  “a little of my unbounded love”.  And Wham! Job’s lost his house and his camels and his motor boat, and his children are all killed in a traffic accident, and he’s got some disgusting disease and his wife is having it off with the local PE teacher and all his friends come around to gloat and eat up anything he’s got left in his freezer.  And the heavenly father smiles a dry smile and chuckles at the lesson he’s just taught about eternal love.  “My ways are not your ways saith the Lord”.  Damn right they’re not.

But do you want to hear what I usually think?

Christ

If you like.

Lyllee

I think God’s got a “very broad sense of humour”.  “Look there’s  a kid thinking how great it will be when he can climb that palm tree, and there’s his brother just about to catch his first fish, and his mother about to have another child, and his father just getting enough money for a bigger house.  And next door there’s another family and another … and thousands of others and none of them know that in a minute there’s going to be a tidal wave.  And God and all his thousands of angels sit on the edge of their cloud waiting for it to happen.  And whoosh!! All those nice people are drowned and God and his angels are rolling about pissing themselves thinking what a hilarious universe they’ve created.  That’s what I think anyway.

Christ

Did you enjoy that?

Lyllee

(thinks)  Yes I did really.  How about you?

Christ

I thought it was marvellous.  You’ve got a wonderful imagination Lillian.  I loved it.  (They hug each other in pleasure)

Lyllee

(continuing but in a different mood)  Well you can still have fun, now and then anyway, but it doesn’t really make up for it.  Does it?

Christ

Well it helps.

Lyllee

No it doesn’t.  In a way it makes things worse.  Because everything I said is true you see.  All those disasters happen and it just doesn’t make sense.  And it’s worse than that really.  You don’t have to be part of a disaster, you don’t have to die a “tragic” death as they say on the telly.  (imitating a news announce)  “The tragic death occurred today of Lillian Rogers when she was in collision with an articulated lorry carrying toilet

Lyllee (contd)

tissue.  Immediately before the incident she appeared to be talking to some non-existent entity.” (stops herself).  What was I talking about?

Christ

Yourself I think.

Lyllee

Yes about myself.  About me.  And millions like me.  Millions of millions.  We’re all born special.  Knowing we’re special, knowing that we’re wonderful, knowing that we’re going to grow into something extraordinary.  Something amazingly wonderful like this lily. I used to think I’d be like a lily ‘cos my name was Lillian.

Then we’d tell our teachers how we were going to be a model or a film star or save the world and they would say.  “They’ve got some very nice jobs tele-marketing for Prudential insurance in town dear”

(as she talks she starts picking at the lily she hold and gradually takes more and more off it till she finally destroys it at the end of the speech)

And all the other kids learned that it was fun to tear bits off us.  And we used to do it back to them.

Then we fell in love and, just for a minute, we saw someone else, someone just as wonderful as we were.  And it all seemed all right again.

But then day by day, days came on, and we still knew who we were inside but no one else could see it from the outside and we couldn’t see the one we used to love any more either.  And he couldn’t see me.  And the kids came.  And every day a little bit more went.  And soon part of me knew that I wasn’t going to flower at all, and from the outside I just looked like that.  (she totally destroys the lily)  But on the inside I still knew I was just the same as ever..  I’m so unhappy.

It’s not that bad Lillian

Lillian

It’s worse.  (sort of pulls herself together and looks at her watch)  That bloody Bill’s late.  And now I look awful.  I’m going to do the right thing and go home.

Christ

Don’t do that Lillian

Lillian

What are you talking about.  I was planning to commit “adultery”.  It’s a “sin” isn’t it?  If you’re Christ you should be against sin.

Christ

There’s all sorts of sins Lillian.  And tearing another bit off yourself is one of them.  And what about poor sensitive Bill.  He’s just as worked up as you are.

Lyllee

I just don’t know what to do.  I just don’t know.

Barman

 (Making announcement off)  Would Lyllee Rogers please come to reception.  Lyllee Rogers

Lylee

Oh that’s him.  Shall I go?  Do I look awful?  Have you got a tissue?  Have you got a mint for my breath.

Christ

Take this (gives her a mouth spray that she uses, helps wipe her face)  There that’s better.  You look good.

Lyllee

(makes as if to go then remembers something)  I haven’t got my lily, I’ve buggered up my lily.

Christ

Here you are.  It’s all forgiven.  I’ve got another one. 

(Christ mysteriously produces another lily and gives it to her.  She takes it and looks at it/  Just before she exits she turns back.)

Lyllee

Oh it’s perfect.  Pure and amazing and beautiful.  Just like me inside.

Now I suppose I’m bloody well going to have to live up to it.

(Lyllee goes off one way.  Christ stays as lights fade)

The end