The final hour of Jean Lee

The Final Hour of Jean Lee

© 25.04.2021 All rights reserved

Suzsi Mandeville, Author

A room. One Female prisoner (Jean) wearing a plain smock. 2 Female Guards (Alice and May) wearing grey skirts and shirts.

Jean is pacing. May is sitting, reading a book. Alice is leaning against the wall near the door. Jean stops pacing.

Jean I want to go to the toilet.

Alice You just went. Anyway, you know where it is. (She points to a potty.)

Jean I need a shit. I need to sit down and relax. I need to empty my bowels and I don’t need you two looking.

Alice Trust me – I ain’t gunna look.

May Me neither. Tell me when you’ve finished and I’ll take it out.

Jean You won’t have to. I’ll throw it at you. Throw it at your heads. Both of you. Covered in shit – just like me!

Alice Calm down Jean. I’m the only friend you’ve got.

May Me too. We’re your friends, remember.

Jean No you’re not. No you’re not. I don’t have friends. I have ‘Acc-omm-pli-ces!’ Where’s Robert? I want to talk to Robert. He knows. He’s my friend. You’re just scum.

May Oh. Really? What are you doing tonight, Alice Scum?

Alice Thought I might go to a movie. What about you, May Scum?

May Oh, nothing special. Cook dinner, play with the kids. I’m knitting my husband a jumper for his birthday, so I think I’ll get the second arm done. What about you, Jean? What are you doing tonight? Oh! Silly me… I forgot for a moment. You’ll be dead.

Jean Noooooo! (She attacks the sitting May, who covers her head with the book she was reading. Alice rushes in and attacks Jean. May jumps up and joins in. They pinion Jean. Jean calms down.)

Jean (sobs) I didn’t do it. I tried to stop them. I cuddled him. Poor old Poppy. Norman did it. I cuddled him but he was dead. It was Norman. Robert told him not to, but it was too late. He’d tell on us! He had to die. He was going to tell. You believe me, don’t you?

Alice I believe you Jean.

May (Sarcastically) I believe you too. I heard you weren’t even there.

Jean That’s right! That’s right. I went to the bathroom. When I came back, they’d … you know, done it.

May They’d popped Poppy.

Alice Poppy’d popped his clogs.

Jean Soppy old Poppy. He thought he was sexy. He wasn’t sexy! His thing wouldn’t have got hard if I’d covered it in concrete. But I tried, you know. I tried my best. You ever tried with a floppy one? The guy was 73 years old. I thought he was a hundred, but we tried, him and me. He liked me. Then Norman came in and … I never liked Norman. Robert liked to think that he and Norman were tough, but that Norman – he was a thug. He liked hurting people. Especially hurting people who couldn’t fight back.

May Like poor old Poppy.

Jean Don’t you start! Poppy wasn’t poor. That old man had bags of money. He was a miser, everybody knew that. All he had to do was give us some money and – whoosh! We’d a been out of there. But no. Hadda be a toughie.

May (Sarcastically) That’s right. That old man put up a fight and got stabbed then strangled and serves him right. He should have just handed over his money and said ‘Here, you take it you thieving sons of bitches!’ But he was right stupid and he fought you. And you killed him.

Jean Not me! He was going to die anyway, old man like that. Everyone makes him out to be such a hero. He was 73 and never paid a penny tax and pretended he was poor and … Well you tell me how such a poor man could have such a nice house? Hey? Stands to reason. Stacked it away. He wasn’t s’posed to die. I never did it.

May You weren’t even there.

Jean And don’t you forget it. What time is it?

Alice (Checks watch) seven thirty.

Jean At night?

Alice In the morning.

Jean What? No! What day is it?

May You know what day it is.

Alice It’s Monday.

Jean No! Sunday. It’s Sunday. You’re playing tricks on me. Sunday. We’ve been talking. Remember, we had the priest come in and we all said prayers. Sunday. They don’t do that on the other days. It’s Sunday. Hahahahaha! You’re just joking.

May Of course he came on Sunday.

Jean See. See. See!

May But that was hours ago. Now it’s Monday.

Jean No! (Goes mad and tears at her hair and other violence.)

Alice Jean, you know what’s happening. Jean, you have to calm down. This is serious, there’s nothing anyone can do.

Jean (Sobbing) I could get a last-minute pardon. They do that, don’t they? They could pardon me. You wait, they’ll walk through that door and they’ll go: Jean Lee, I have a message here from the Governor. You’ve been pardoned. You’re free to go. They could do that.

(There’s a knock on the door)

Jean See! It’s them. They’re going to pardon me. Let them in! You’ll see.

(Alice opens the door a fraction. A guard steps in and closes the door behind himself.)

Guard You’ve got a visitor.

Jean Is it the Governor? Has he come himself?

Guard No. It’s your mother.

Jean What’s she doing here?

Guard I guess she’s come to say goodbye. Do you want to see her?

Jean No! Wait, no. (Thinks) Mum, mummy. My mummy. What’s she doing here? She doesn’t even like me. She said she wished I’d never been born. She’s the cause of all this. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d be home now, with my own daughter. She – she threw me out. And then she stole my baby! She’s got my little girl. Yes, you get her in here. You tell her, I want to know where my daughter is.

(Guard leaves)

Jean (Mutters) My Mary. My little Mary. What’s she done to you, my precious? Did she teach you your prayers? Did she smack your little hands when you got the words wrong? You better not wet the bed, my Mary – you know what she does then! (Jean recoils as if hit.)

Alice How old is your girl, Jean?

Jean I forget. What day is it?

May It’s Mon…

Alice (interrupts) It’s the 18th of February, 1951.

Jean She was born April 1939. She’s nearly 12. Oh! All those years. She’s nearly a grown-up and I haven’t even seen her. I want to be there for her 12th birthday so I can make her a cake. I’d like to buy her a pretty dress. She’d like that. My mother stole her from me. It wasn’t my fault. If Raymond hadn’t been drinking all the time, if he’d been a good husband, we’d have had a nice house and maybe a boy as well. He always wanted a son. He hit me when we had Mary. He wasn’t happy. We got given some money for her and he went and drank it all. There wasn’t any left and then my milk dried up and I just couldn’t feed her enough. She cried all the time. My poor baby, I couldn’t feed her and he blamed me and Mary cried and cried and cried...

(There’s a knock on the door. Alice opens it and the Guard ushers in an older woman, Florence Peacock, Jean’s mother.)

Flo Hello, Marjorie.

Jean They call me Jean, Ma.

Flo I’m your mother. I know what they call you, but I’m calling you Marjorie. That’s the name I gave you. Marjorie, after my mother. What happened? You look a wreck.

Jean They don’t let me do make-up here, mum. It’s a prison. I don’t even have a hairbrush; got to ask for one and then they take it away after. No pretty dresses, either. I had a nice blue dress, once. Robert bought it for me and I looked right pretty. But then…

Flo I saw it. It was evidence. Covered in blood when I saw it. You were covered in that man’s blood. (She closes her eyes and winces in pain at the memory.)

Jean I cuddled him. It was an accident.

Flo That old man got stabbed a lot of times. Once might be an accident. Lots…! That’s deliberate. Now look at you. I always said you’d turn out bad.

(The stage blacks out. Stage Left, is illuminated by a single broad spotlight, while Stage Right is in darkness and the guards remain motionless. Stage Left, Jean is kneeling, facing the audience so that she represents a child. Her mother is berating her.)

Flo You wet the bed again. You’re a dirty, wicked girl. Only wild animals wet where they lay. What are you?

Jean (Whines) I’m sorry.

Flo Sorry? Sorry? Is that it? Don’t you ‘Sorry’ me. You need to pray for forgiveness. Here, say your Rosary. Right now. Here. (She pulls Rosary Beads out of her pocket and hands them over to Jean.)

Jean (Takes the Rosary. Shaking, she nervously prays) I believe in God, the Almighty Father, Creator of Heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, Our Lord, Who was concealed by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered underneath Pontius the Pilot…

Flo (Smacks her flying) You’re talking to God! Get it right. Those nuns aren’t strict enough with you. I’m wasting my money on you, sending you there. God only knows I try. Day in, day out, trying to make you grow into a good woman – and this is what I get! A bedwetting brat who can’t say her prayers. What am I going to do with you? I know: there’s no tea for you until you get it right. You can have bread and water for your penance for three days or until you can say the Apostles Creed – and Get It Right! Understand?

Jean Yes Mumma.

(Stage blacks out and when the lights come up, everyone is positioned as before.)

Jean How’s my Mary? Did you bring her with you? Can I see her?

Flo Your Mary? She’s not your Mary anymore. She’s my Mary. The courts appointed me as her legal guardian when you went galivanting off to Sydney to be a whore. You don’t deserve her, and she certainly doesn’t deserve you.

Jean She’s still my daughter.

Flo But you’re not still her mother. Anyway, she thinks you’re dead already.

Jean No! What did you do?

Flo (Softens) Marjorie…

Jean Call me Jean. I don’t want to be Marjorie.

Flo Marjorie! I told her you had died. The only good thing about ‘Jean Lee’, is that Mary Brees has no association with her. People won’t know that her mother is a murdering prostitute.

Jean Me? It’s all my fault? Did you tell her about her father? Did you tell her that her father was a no-good, drunken swine who beat me and didn’t provide for his family? Did you tell her he left us, and I had no choice?

Flo You never had a lick of sense when it came to men. I told you. I warned you. But did you listen?

(The stage blacks out. Stage Left, is illuminated by a single broad spotlight, while Stage Right is left in darkness and the guards remain motionless. Stage Left, Jean is standing. Her mother is berating her.)

Flo Don’t tell me lies. You were seen!

Jean We didn’t do anything.

Flo ‘We didn’t do anything…’ So why did you go up to his room? Don’t bother to lie – Moira, his landlady told me. ‘You want to keep an eye on that girl of yours,’ she says. Now it’s all over the town: that Marjorie Wright is a tramp! You’ll never get a good man with your reputation in the mud. You should go and become a nun. It’s the only hope for bad girls like you.

Jean (in tears) I don’t want to be a nun. I want to be loved. Raymond Brees loves me and he wants to marry me. So there!

Flo He doesn’t love you. He just wants to get into your knickers, if he hasn’t already. I can tell you that Mr Brees has had lots of girls in his room. Moira told me that she’s had to complain to him many times. He’s often behind in the rent and she’s ready to kick him out any day. He’s a bad sort and you’re a bad sort. Is it any wonder you two like each other. Bad Pennies Stick Together.

Jean Well we’re getting married and Two Can Live As Cheaply As One! So, from now on he can afford the rent because I don’t eat much – I’ve never had the chance!

Flo (Disgustedly) Married? Well, good luck to you. At least you’ll be out of my hair.

Jean Is that all you’ve got to say to me? Your daughter is getting married and all you can say is ‘At least you’ll be out of my hair’. If I have a daughter, I’ll never treat her like that. I’ll love her and take care of her.

(Flo leaves the light and enters the dark part of the stage.)

Jean So me and Raymond Brees got married. A year later in 1939 I had a daughter, and I called her Mary, after the Virgin, and I hoped that the mother of God would take better care of us than my mother had of me. But right from the first, Ray hated Mary. Never even picked her up or changed her nappy. After Ray and me split up, there was no one for me. I couldn’t go back to Mum, it would be like being a naughty girl again. I needed money, but I couldn’t work with a baby to care for. The Church gave me just enough money for food and some third-hand baby clothes. My Mary never had new anything. Then one day a man offered me money. (Long pause) After that, it was easy. Word got around and then men came around. Then Mum came around…

(Flo re-enters the light)

Flo Get out!

Jean Mum – you are in my house. You came here.

Flo You. Get. Out. Of. Town. You filthy whore. Everybody’s talking. I can’t go to the shops anymore without everyone pointing and whispering, ‘Florence’s girl – can you believe it?’ And I have to hold my head down in shame. The priest came ’round and said he’d come and talk to you. That’s how many know what you are doing. Everyone! They all know and I have to bear your shame.

Jean You’re right. I should have let me and Mary die of starvation and cold. Then you’d have all been sorry. Then you’d have said: ‘Oh, that’s terrible!’ Then they’d have said: ‘That Florence, you’d have thought she’d have helped her poor daughter and granddaughter. She’s a wicked woman. Goes to church all the time and down on her knees and there’s her daughter starved to death with the baby. Well, who’d of thought?’

Flo (Thinks a while) Then you go. You go away, sort yourself out somewhere where they don’t know you. Get a job. Get off the booze!

Jean I don’t…

Flo Don’t lie to me! I can smell it. Look, I’m giving you a chance. Give Mary to me for a year. You go and sort yourself out and when you’re ready, when you’re capable, when you’re off the grog – come and get her back. Can you do that? Can you finally do something good? I’ll come back tomorrow after you’ve had time to think.

(Flo leaves the light and enters the dark part of the stage.)

Jean So I went to Sydney. Of course I sold myself. What else could I do? I needed the money and I needed a place to stay and I needed to eat. But I didn’t know the rules and the other girls kicked me out. I was on their patch and they had blokes to back them up. I just had me – so I moved on, and down, and down, and then I found Morris. He wasn’t much cop but at least he stopped me getting beat up by the other girls. For a while there, I thought I was going to be okay and I talked about getting a real job and working in a shop but he just laughed and said I could earn more on my back in one night than a shop girl could in a whole week.

I thought about that. I thought, how come if I’m earning so much money, why are we so poor all the time? The punters gave him the money before they came to me, so I never got to see how much they paid. Morris said he gave it all to me less a 10% management fee. But I started wondering. So, I asked one of my punters and he told me, and it turned out I was getting screwed from both ends. Morris was pocketing most of it. He was gambling but I was the one who was losing.

I just… I just kept on trying and kept on getting kicked in the head.

Then I met Robert and at first, everything turned to roses. Robert already had money. Robert knew how to treat a girl. Robert asked me to go to Brisbane with him where Morris couldn’t find us and we could start out fresh. We went to parties and dancing and had fun and life was going to be all right. Then Robert asked me to go back on the streets. Just the once. He’d run a bit short of money. But I needn’t have sex with the punter, because he had an idea:

(Enter a man, Robert Clayton.)

Rob It’ll be easy doll. Look, you just have to get him with his trousers down – not like you haven’t done that before. But this time, I’ll burst in, act the Angry Husband and threaten him. He’ll pay up or get exposed and we’ll have the money for nothing.

Jean You promised me! I was done with all that stuff.

Rob And so you are, doll. You know I love you, don’t you? I wouldn’t ask this of you, but I can’t get work. You can’t get proper work. That cleaning job you do is hard yakka for next to nothing and look at your hands! A lady shouldn’t have hands like that. Not my lady. Listen, I’ll pick the mark and you go and do your stuff and I’ll look after you. It’ll be easy.

(Robert leaves the light)

Jean It wasn’t easy. In many ways it was worse than prostitution. At least then I gave a service and the punter paid for it. This time, it was stand-over theft with menaces. I hit the booze hard and of course, that made things worse.

(Robert re-enters the light)

Rob You stupid cow! You threw up all over him and he rushes off. You’re supposed to get his trousers off – not covered in your chunder! Now we’ve got to find someone else.

Jean Oh Rob, no. Not tonight. I don’t feel good. I’ve got my period. I just wanna go to bed.

Rob You do as you’re told!

(Robert leaves the light.)

Jean And so I did. Little Marjorie - still doing what she’s told. In the end, I made a game of it. Then one night it all went wrong. The punter fought back.

(Robert re-enters the light with a big plaster on his nose, a black eye and a bandage on his hand.)

Jean I thought he was a bad mark. I had a feeling about him. How’s your nose?

Rob (Nasally voice) Hurts. It’ll mend. My hand’s worse. He broke my thumb. Twisted it right back. The thumb came out of the socket. It’s back in, but it’ll never be strong again. I think it’s time we went back to Sydney. The cops are all over us here. We need a fresh start. I’ve got a friend down there can put us up. Norman Andrews. You’ll like Norman. He’s got a sense of humour. Funny man. He works in a hotel as a doorman. Norman the Doorman. He’s a mate.

(Robert leaves the light and stage. Lights come up and Flo, Alice and May are in the cell with Jean.)

Jean How’s Mary doing?

Flo She’s alright. I thought you should know before, umm, you know, that at least one good thing came out of you. Mary’s a good girl. And she’s smart. And she wants to be a nun. She’s already started praying for your soul.

Jean Right. Sounds like she’s got a life-long job then, stuck on her knees all day, praying for me.

Flo Be grateful why don’t you. She can’t even remember you but every night she prays for your soul in heaven. Well, tonight, we’ll both pray together.

Jean (sobs)

Flo (Takes Jean in her arms) I wish you’d been better. (Flo strokes Jean’s hair.) You were such a pretty little girl with your lovely red hair. You got that from your father.

Jean That’s not all I got from my father.

Flo Oh, not that old story again! (She pushes Jean away.) It was lies then and its lies now. You are just a wicked, wicked girl and you always have been. Anyway, I came here to tell you that Mary is fine and tonight we will both pray for your soul’s redemption. And now I have, so I’m leaving. Goodbye, Marjorie Jean Wright. God bless you.

(Florence leaves the cell.) There is a long silence ...

May Well, that was nice of your mum to visit.

(Jean attacks May. Alice attacks Jean. They all fight. The cell door opens and three men, two Male Guards and a Priest, rush in. All the guards struggle with Jean and manage to get her into the chair. One injects her with a sedative. Jean is struggling wildly but then the effects of the sedative take hold and she becomes limp. She is put on the chair and slurs her words.)

Priest Jean Lee, have you confessed your sins before God?

Jean I di’ it awready. He dun lissen.

Priest May the Lord have Mercy on your Soul.

Jean He should’a hadda bitta mercy on my LIFE. Ooooh. Ooooh. Looka me hands. I din’ murder anybody. Can’ do it wiv these little hands. Rob din’ do it; his thumb was broke. No strength. That Norman, he dun it. That Norman, he liked hurtin’ people. I dun do anything wrong. I cuddled that ol’ man.

(Jean slumps on the seat, unconscious.)

Male Guard 1 How am I supposed to get her to the scaffold like that? I can’t even get the cuffs on her.

Male Guard 2 Put the cuffs on in front. She’s not going anywhere. She’s out of it. We’ll have to carry her.

(The guards cuff her hands together in front of her and then debate how they’re going to get her out. They decide to carry her in the chair.)

MG 1 You ready? Lift.

MG 2 Get the door open. Just as well she doesn’t weigh much.

MG 1 Yeh. Ollie reckoned he coulda used a bit of string to hang this one.

MG 2 Executioner’s wit. Just what you need. Out we go. Back up.

(The two male guards and the priest exit, leaving the guards Alice and May alone in the cell.)

Alice Well, that’s that then.

May What are you doing next?

Alice Well, there’s no one else on death row and let’s hope there won’t be for a long time. I’ve lost enough sleep over this one, already. Phew! I should write a book.

May What? About Jean?

Alice (Shrugs) I just thought…

May Don’t waste your time. Who on earth wants to read about a murdering prostitute?

Alice But, you heard what she… Oh, I guess you’re right. Who cares, anyway. I could do with a cup of tea. You coming?

May You bet. I could kill for one.

(Alice and May exit the stage. Blackout.)