The Big D was written by Amy O’Sullivan as part of the Tenderfoot programme at the Civic Theatre in Tallaght for Transition Year students. Clever and sophisticated, the play is set between Paris and Dublin and follows the intricate story of a family on the brink of separation.

Copyright Amy O’Sullivan January 2009-04-20

The Little Blue Café at the heart of Paris.

Sarah: Hello, we want eat pen pal rain please.

Niamh: Yes and some short hats too please.

Waiter: Gives them a strange look then bursts out laughing

Sarah: What did we say? Did we mess up our order?

Waiter: French accent. You ask for the rainy pen pals with short hats…Maybe we just order in The English yes?

Niamh: Laughs. Oops, yeah, em we’ll have two ice-teas and two bread roll please.

Waiter: No problem to me. Coming straight now.

Niamh: So much for all those French classes…

Sarah: Yeah but who cares. He wasn’t too bad looking was he? And could you smell his aftershave? He’s good taste. I love this country… nothing like Paris for a bit of eye-candy.

Niamh: How could you not? He must have bathed in the stuff! And listen to yourself. You haven’t stopped gawking at the French lads since we got here!

Sarah: Do you blame me? Turns to look at the waiter again.

Niamh: Now in all fairness, lover-boy’s miles too old for you! I on the other hand…

Sarah: Ha! So what do you want to do today?

Niamh: Oh I dunno…

Sarah: Shopping? Sight-seeing? Boy spotting?

Niamh: Naw, I don’t feel like doing that.

Sarah: Really? I’m boring you already, I knew it!

Niamh: No! Don’t be stupid. I’m sorry, if you want to go shopping or whatever we can, plus you know me and the boys…

Sarah: It’s OK. We’ve the whole month for that.

Niamh shifts uncomfortably.

Lights dim on this side of the stage.

Opposite side of the stage lights up, a man and woman. They appear to be in the same café as the two girls but are in fact sitting at their kitchen table at their home in Dublin

6 months ago

Mother: What do you want to eat?

Father: I don’t know. What do you want?

Mother: I’m in the mood for a quiche.

Father: Me too actually…

Mother: God, look at those clouds…If you plan on doing the garden you’d better get going.

Father: Looks out window. It’s a bit nippy out… Fancy giving me a hand?

Mother: Laughs. And what exactly do I get in return?

Father: That warm fuzzy feeling inside you get from helping others?

Mother: Nice try! Oh great…

Father: What do ya know? Rain comes in handy after all.

Mother: Typical. Its one thing for it to be cold but for it to be wet as well is just depressing.

Father: Do you hear that?

Mother: What?

Father: The violins… they’re playing just for you!

Mother: Ha-ha, you’re so funny.

Father: I know. It’s my curse.