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Tay Bridge

Tay Bridge was first performed on Tuesday 27 August 2019 at Dundee Rep. It was written by Peter Arnott from an original idea by Tom McGovern.

The cast was Leah Byrne, Ewan Donald, Barrie Hunter,

Anne Kidd, Irene MacDougall, Bailey Newsome

and Emily Winter.

Director Andrew Panton

Designer Emily James

Composer/Sound Designer Michael John McCarthy

Lighting Designer Simon Wilkinson

Movement Director Emily-Jane Boyle

AV Designer Lewis Den Hertog

OVERTURE the underwater world

Swirling, turbulence. A chaos of images and music. Lines from the stories we are about to see and hear, snatches of song…are mixed with a musical theme and the sounds of water, weather…and disaster. As the picture forms of our characters standing on the remains of the pillar supports of the first Tay Rail Bridge that still jut eerily from the shallow waters of the Firth, we hear and see them more distinctly, more individually. NEISH, a schoolteacher wearing a black armband of mourning; MRS EASTON, the widow of a clergyman and aspiring author; ANNIE CRUIKSHANK, A HOUSEKEEPER and SERVANT; BENYON, a travelling SALESMAN; EMILY, a kept woman and actress; ELIZA, a young servant and her fiancé, GEORGE JOHNSTONE, a mechanic.

NEISH Tis not in mere mortals to command success. We will do more. We will deserve it!

MRS EASTON (Holding her manuscript.) How can I present this to the world now? What can it be worth now? How dare I tell the story of my life when it turns out I knew nothing about it?

ANNIE CRUIKSHANK Aren’t I your freen? Aren’t I the only one who was always here?

BENYON I keep thinking that somebody’s going to stop me. But nobody does. Nobody ever sees me for what I am.

ELIZA (To GEORGE.) George Johnstone! I am telling you now, you are going to need tae tell me what you want or you and me are finished!

EMILY God will find a way to punish me. One day. I know He will.

The music crashes. We see the moment of the disaster (in reverse?) as experienced by our first story teller – the school teacher DAVID NEISH. The train is re-arranged for Neish’s story. Once the carriage is reconstructed, NEISH tells his story to the other passengers…who through long practice, are now participants as well as audience. As his story progresses, the set is minimally altered to aid his story telling, which is also aurally supported by music and sound design.

MR NEISH’S STORY

NEISH Failure is the best discipline. That’s what Mr Durisdeer taught me. I can still hear him.

(In the voice of his dead teacher.)

‘Failure, my dear boys, if only it is joined by perseverance, is full of instruction. Tis not in mere mortals to command success. We will do more. We will deserve it!’

(In his own voice.)

We will deserve it.

(He begins the catechism.)

Who made you?

PASSENGERS as CHILDREN (Knowing the story, joining in.) God, Mr Neish!

NEISH What else did God make?

CHILDREN God made all things, Mr Neish.

NEISH Why did God make you and all things?

CHILDREN For his own glory, Mr Neish.

NEISH How can you and I glorify God?

CHILDREN By loving him and doing what he commands, Mr Neish.

NEISH By loving him and doing what he commands.

His commandment is simple. Isn’t it? His commandment is tae dae right. And aabiddy kens whit’s right. Aabiddy. We aa ken when we dae right…and we surely ken it fine when we dae wrang.

Since I began teaching, I’ve been doing what Mr Durisdeer taught me. I’ve been looking for faces amang aa the other faces. And I dae see them. If only for a term…a month…a week…faces ae a certain…quality…

What quality is that?

Weel…no like they were characters in a book…lost aristocrats mistakenly placed amang the rabble.

It’s sadness…I think. Sadness for the world. Is that fanciful?

Very well. It’s fanciful.

MCQUARRIE Has Oliver Twist appeared yet in yer classroom, Mr Neish? Or Becky Sharp?

NEISH I fear not, Mr McQuarrie.

MCQUARRIE Will you let us all know when they reveal themselves…so we can all come and stare at them…in wonder.

(Passengers laugh, joining in MCQUARRIE’s cynicism.)

NEISH (Silencing them.) Why is it sae easy…to mock? Why is it easier to despair than to hope? Because it is merr comfortable tae surrender to a bad world than tae strive for a better yin. One looks sophisticatit, when one is, in fact, craven. One appears realistic when one is, in fact, self-serving.

In any case, I found him. I saw his face. His singular face amang aa the ither faces. Euan MacBride. I spoke tae him. I found something in him. I saw…a spark…

And I needed a colleague to support me in my argument to the headmaister that this pupil of outstanding promise merited individual tuition…and transfer tae a merr advanced class…and there was naebiddy else on the staff I thocht would support me. So I asked McQuarrie. Looking back, asking help from that man was the very worst thing I could have done.

(Bar lighting and ambience. NEISH steps forward into a reconstructed memory. The ELIZA actress plays the barmaid from his own ‘compartment’)

I’m not used to coming into a place like this. What if one of the elders should see us?

MCQUARRIE To see us, they’d need to be in here themselves. And then we’d see them. Heavens, you’ve a lot to learn about school teaching!

BARMAID What will ye tak, Mister McQuarrie?

MCQUARRIE Whisky, my pet. As ever.

BARMAID And your pal? Ur ye new here?

NEISH Water. Thank ye.

BARMAID (Serving MCQUARRIE.) You a domine n’a’?

NEISH Yes.

BARMAID (Indicates MCQUARRIE.) But no like this yin, eh?

MCQUARRIE (Hugging her, enjoying NEISH’s discomfort.) Elsa here was one of my pupils. Weren’t you, sweetheart? Before your time, Mr Neish.

(BARMAID gets NEISH’s water)

NEISH Thank you.

MCQUARRIE (To ELSA.) Polite, isn’t he?

(She laughs and leaves.)

Well, speak up, Mr Neish! We’ve only half an hour for luncheon.

NEISH We should we put Euan MacBride in the scholarship class. I can prepare him.

MCQUARRIE Have we any reason to think he will have the active support of his family?

NEISH I have spoken to his mother. She wants the best for him.

MCQUARRIE She does not provide him with shoes.

NEISH I can provide his footwear. If we but elevate him to the place where he has a chance…he will take that chance. And we will be proud of him. The whole school will be proud.

MCQUARRIE Or embarrassed. This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Mr Neish. The governors know of your wee projects…and they know that the prospect exists of being made fools of. They care about these things. They go to dinner with men they should prefer did not laugh at them behind their napkins.

(Classroom ambience.)

NEISH Why ought you to glorify God?

CHILDREN Because he made me and takes care of me, Mr Neish.

NEISH Are there more gods than one?

CHILDREN There is only one God, Mr Neish.

NEISH Only one God…one truth. One truth to learn.

(Bar room ambience.)

MCQUARRIE Learn? Sixty unhappy brats in a single cold classroom, all ages, all abilities! They cannot learn in an Artisan School as they understand the word at the University. One can thrash some rudimentary repetitions into them! But teach? Hardly! And why teach them anything at all if they can only learn to despise their lot in life? When they can be contented, ignorant servants in agriculture, industry and domestic service!

NEISH Euan is not going to be a servant! That is why…

MCQUARRIE Some may end in prison or the army, and a little beating from us will accustom them to that life too. And for the rest, let us pass the time for them and for ourselves as pleasantly as maybe.

NEISH If they are fated to bleach and spin and weave, it is an accident of history and geography. But is it not true that every advance in human history has come from those who broke the bounds of necessity? Should we not take account of the exceptional?

MCQUARRIE You? For example…

NEISH Me? We’re not talking about me…

MCQUARRIE Are we not, though? Farmtoun boy made good? Durisdeer…was that not yer teacher’s name?

NEISH We are talking about our pupil. Euan MacBride.

MCQUARRIE If you say so…

NEISH He is of exceptional ability and intelligence, you can see that. But unless he has help from you and me, then yes…it may be his destiny to submit to a working life of severity and poverty…but more likely, given his energy and intelligence, crime…a life of crime…

MCQUARRIE Are we saving our citizens from a master criminal now?

NEISH becomes uncomfortably aware of their conversation being listened to, and that the listeners think he’s being naïve.

NEISH We are intervening in the life of a single child…a single child who stands for many…whose lives are dictated to them from slum childhood to slum solitude and death as absolutely as if they were subjects of any Satrap.

MCQUARRIE (To the enjoyment of the listeners.) Control yourself, Mr Neish! Satraps and master criminals, is it? He seems a soulful wee chap to me…especially given the family of Neanderthals he springs from…

NEISH (Insisting against the crowd.) Should we not try to do right by him?

MCQUARRIE Do right? Possibly! The price for my assistance is the truth.

NEISH The truth?

MCQUARRIE Are you sure…when you think of young Master MacBride …that you’re not thinking of yourself at a similar age…plucked from similar obscurity by your own village domine? Up from rural ignorance to the University of Dundee. Years of struggle, study…of learning the manners and voices of a gentleman!

NEISH Aye. Mainners you were born wi...raised wi…I had to claw them oot ae the earth…

MCQUARRIE Like potatoes! And yet here we are…colleagues. You raised from your rural idiocy to the dizzy heights of a parochial schoolteacher…and me fallen from on high to exactly the same status. That you are here with me is testament to your years of industry…That I am here with you…is testament to my indolence and failure. Which of us is more poisoned with frustrated ambition? Me or you?

NEISH Will you help me with Euan MacBride? Will you support me with the headmaster? No matter what you think my motivations are?

MCQUARRIE You must not teach him to fly higher than his wings are made for. I hope you’ll not regret your ambition, like Daedalus…watching your Icarus fall into the Tay…

(The listeners laugh. NEISH silences them with the catechism.)

NEISH Does God know all things?

CHILDREN Yes; nothing can be hid from God, Mr Neish.

NEISH Nothing can be hid from God!

(Confessing, his hand touching his black armband.)

All right. It’s true. Without Mr Durisdeer, I would never have been ambitious. I would never have fallen into …this hatred…and disappointment.

(Euan steps forward to sit at a desk for solo instruction.)

But Euan MacBride…a faither lost at sea…a mither subsisting on charity…his family living in a single room with another family similarly indigent…against all odds, all expectation…he has a spark of…possibility. He has not an ounce of privilege…but merr ability…merr promise than I ever had.

Perhaps his best outcome will be as paltry as ma ain…But wi’oot my help…whatever hope he has will come to nothing. And whatever God in his heaven knows of me and my motivation…it is still the right thing to do.

One child at a time. We can save the world one child at a time.

(As he recites, the passengers slowly join in, as they did in the catechism.)

Amo, Amas, Amat. Amamis, Amatis, Amant.

I love, you love, he loves, we love. You love, they love

Discam Disces Discet Discemus Disceti Discent

I will learn, you will learn, he will learn, we will learn, you will learn…they will learn.

We will deserve it.

PASSENGERS We will deserve it.

(He has his audience listening to him now. Reaching the climax of his story.)

It took a year. A year of tuition and expense to myself…but Euan was ready…and on Friday morning a week ago, I closed off and heated a room for him to come and sit the scholarship exam…I had paid his entrance fee as the governors of the school would not…I had taken a day off work…officially…I had brought Professor Taft of the University…my old tutor… to conduct the examination in person. Latin. History. Geography. Theology and Moral Thought.

And we sat together. The Professor and I. As Nine O’Clock struck…as a minute went by…two minutes….five….and an awful certainty afflicted me…

(He hurries to ask at the school office.)

I went, I asked, and I discovered what I should have known. Euan had not come to school that morning. Yesterday, in the last lesson of the day. McQuarrie had beaten him. Beaten him savagely like a slave. Today…Euan had not come to school. God knows if he would ever come back.

I’d lost him.

I was stunned…staggered…and without forethought, I found myself in McQuarrie’s class room…where he was teaching the catechism.

(The children/listeners are now hostile to MCQUARRIE.)

MCQUARRIE What did God give Adam and Eve besides bodies?

CHILDREN He gave them souls that could never die, Mister McQuarrie.

MCQUARRIE Have you a soul as well as a body?

CHILDREN Yes; I have a soul that can never die, Mr McQuarrie

MCQUARRIE (Grins.) Can I help you, Mr Neish?

(NEISH strikes him. Uproar. We return to the train. NEISH addresses his fellow passengers.)

NEISH I lost my job. Of course I did. But by begging favours, perhaps I’ll find a position in some country school, the kind of school I went to. Where Mr Durisdeer taught me.

He died last week in his classroom. It took the last of my savings to bury him. He died of the work he had done all his life.

Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow will be better.

We will deserve it.

(Transition. Music. MRS EASTON is the next story teller so it is her experience of the disaster that we see…and to her story that we return. Train ambience.)

MRS EASTON’S STORY

MRS EASTON (Sits looking at her manuscript. To her fellow passengers.) I wish I could read to you from my manuscript. But the illumination from the paraffin lamps is as questionable as the insulation! I do know the beginning by heart. I begin the story of my life with this ‘Perhaps my husband was not a bad man, but taking him at his own estimation, I found myself so far below him, that I had no choice but to hate him, just a little.’ I do think that’s rather good!

The passengers, performing from her manuscript – of which they have all found pages in the silt, now as her husbands’ congregants, sing a hymn. Church sound picture.

REVEREND EASTON We complain, don’t we? We complain about everything. On and on and on. But let us reflect, dear friends, that as adherents of the Church of Scotland, we are blessed! Our missionaries bring our Presbyterian light to the darkness of the world! As the most dynamic servants of the British Empire, we Scots are the Chosen People of Today every bit as much as were the Children of Israel in the days of Gideon!

MRS EASTON (To the passengers.) That’s what he was like. That’s the kind of thing he said in the pulpit every Sunday. And was my husband not the expert in the workings of divine providence, having married my father’s money when he married me!

(Light fades on the REVEREND EASTON.)

When my husband had his living in the city, when I still believed I loved him, or at least that I ought to try, our parish included what was called the Holy Land, a place whose name derived from the strange presence in Whitehall Close of the most haunting and primitive carving on a wall…showing Adam and Eve…in paradise.

Paradise. Good God.

(THE REVEREND, in her memory, approaches her. He is accompanied by a young and intense medical inspector, DR COOPER.)

REVEREND EASTON It is my duty, my dear, to accompany Dr Cooper on his demonstrative excursion to the dwellings of the poor. But it is none of yours.

MRS EASTON (Narrating in the present.) I insisted on coming along. Perhaps I was curious to see how the poor lived. But I had already heard so much from that intense young man…and Dr Cooper…God forgive me… that young man was so compelling! And I was young, then, too!

(In her memory, the tour begins. She joins them as COOPER speaks.)

COOPER If there were one thing that would do more than any other to transform life in this city…it is water!

(Street sounds. They stand in a dark entrance way.)

MRS EASTON (In the moment, in the past.) Water! Such a simple thing and in such plentiful supply in these latitudes. One would have thought.

(Laughs.)

COOPER (Humourless.) A water supply tae meet the needs ae hygiene in the lower town would revolutionise hundreds of lives in this street alone, Mrs Easton. With water, their chances of decency, of virtue, of rising above animality, exist. Without it, they do not.

REVEREND EASTON The cost to the city, Dr Cooper, would be prohibitive.

COOPER What is the cost of not trying, Reverend? What is the cost to these folk of existing as they do? What is the cost to our souls of blinking at their misery?

(He gestures that they enter the darkness…they do…shadows overwhelm them…COOPER lights a lamp.)

MRS EASTON It was like walking into the mouth of hell as we stepped into the close…one’s eyes stung…watering at the devil’s breath. I had to steel myself, recover my balance…lean against a wall dripping with the condensing perspiration of all the souls within.

(In live action, MRS EASTON reacts to the smell.)

Oh!

(Then narrating.)

The smell…I’m sorry…but it’s what I most remember. It got into my nostrils and has never left them. I can smell it even now. Nothing smells as bad as poverty.

(COOPER continues ‘live’ as they climb stone stairs. Sound FX.)