The one-act play has been mentioned in a previous blog and I have included the opening scene. There is a clash of tradition against modernity as Connors, the developer, and Fairchild, an old stonemason, meet over the removal of the memorial tablet from the old miners' hospital in the Rhondda. Tensions arise as both men argue their point.

A dark light. The light rises slowly, revealing a triangle in the centre of the stage. There is the sound of a hoarse cough off stage; then the soft footfalls of Fairchild, late seventies, small, still fit, enters. He has a chisel and a hammer in his hand. He kneels in front of the triangle, touches the edges of the imaginary memorial tablet.

 

Fairchild:    Just this one last chance. That’s all I ask. I am not going to force the old tablet out. (Pauses, wiping his brow). That wouldn’t be proper. (He hits the imaginary tablet; it falls to the ground with a thud). That wasn’t bad, was it? (He peers at the writing on it). The writing’s as good as the day it was struck . (Pauses, coughing). Doctor Morris MD. You were good because I remember my father telling me. (He sits beside the stone, breathing heavily). This memorial tablet will stay here. I will see to that. No need for it to be smashed like the ones from the chapels.

 Against the sound of voices in the background, laughter, Fairchild doesn’t look up. Connors, late forties, enters. Immaculately dressed in a Saville Row suit, mobile phone in hand, he looks at Fairchild with disgust as he pockets the phone and sighs.

Connors:    You again. I thought we had come to an agreement. You know that we have work to do. I could have you thrown off the site. You have been holding things up for a hell of a time.

Fairchild: (Laughs)   You wouldn’t do that. (Pauses, scratching his head). That wouldn’t do your image any good, would  it, sonny? (Looks around the stage). We will get a bit of sun soon. The warm weather will soon be here.

Connors stands in front of him as Fairchild struggles to his feet.

Connors:    I have been lenient with you during the past few weeks.

Fairchild:     Has it been that long? I never listen to what I’ve been told. There’s no harm me coming here and seeing to things. I would never be a problem.

Connors glances at the stone.                                                                                                                          

Connors:    What do you see in the memorial tablet? It is of the past and is of no use.

 

Fairchild:    Craftsmanship. Weeks of work went into dressing that stone. There’s nothing to compare with that now. Can modern stone have character like that? You can read into the words and see dedication.

Connors:    The writing’s a bit faded. I can only make out a few words.

 

Fairchild:    It’s still legible. It could still fade and I will remember the words. There has to be a few pictures left of all the people who were present at the laying of the stone. They were clever back then with their words and pictures.

 

Connors:    Make this stone the last. I’ve been too friendly in allowing you to take the other things from here. Company policy dictates. . . Well, make sure you’re not so prominent from now on.

 

Fairchild:    What have you done with the other stones and the furniture that were inside?

Connors:    They have  been sold. The quality of the building which will replace it will complement the old one. We will transform the area with our new building.

 

Fairchild:    How long do you think this steel building of yours will last?

 

Connors:    About a hundred years. (Laughs). You seem surprised, Fairchild?

 

 Fairchild:    How much is it costing?

 

Connors:   About six hundred thousand pounds. The cost will rise if we discover any problems with the foundations.

 

Fairchild:    You been caught, boy! The miners’ hospital which was here was built nearly one hundred and ten years ago. There wasn’t much wrong with it, except for a leaky roof and a bit of pointing to be repaired. The bugger was meant to last in all weathers.

Connors ignores him, walking around, inspecting the foundation.

Connors:   That building wasn’t fit for a new century. It was an eyesore and had to be condemned. You will be pleasantly surprised when the new building is up. Something new should be welcomed.

Fairchild:     I still don’t see why they had to pull the other building down! Where’s the sense in that.’

 

Connors turns toward him, a half smile on his face.

Connors:  It's called progress, my good man. Why don't you go home?                                                                                                               

Fairchild:    I’ll go when I’m good and ready. Mary won’t miss me. I only live down the road.  The old miners paid six pence a week so they could have a doctor and build this beautiful hospital. The stone was brought from the quarry on the other side of the mountain and everyone helped to build it. It meant so much to them because of people dying needlessly,

 

Connors turns, staring into the distance where Fairchild is pointing.

Connors:    I can see the quarry. It must be more than three miles away. Those tracks they used must have made it hard going.

 

Fairchild:      Four miles is the exact distance. Horse and cart brought these stones and they were dressed on the site.

Connors points at the stone.

Connors:   Why do you want the memorial tablet?

 

Fairchild:     Because something has to be saved. Doctor Morris was a man who would never grumble. Nothing was too much trouble for him and the people around here respected him and he stayed all his life. He’d come out in any weather,he delivered me, and would attend three births on some nights. His surgery was at that house on the corner. He’d be there every morning, fresh after being out all night, and he’d even dispense his own medicine. (Pauses and says bitterly). Doctors don’t know they’re born today. I do not remember being ill when I was young. None of us were pumped full of pills like you are today. (Pauses, tapping the stone). There was no better Doctor than old Sam Morris. He was always associated with this hospital. My father said that he was shy and would not say more than was required.  He was red-faced for a week after they named the first ward after him. (He pats the stone). This stone will be all that is left for people to remember how it once was.

 

Connors:    How old was Morris when he died?

 

Fairchild:    Eighty odd. I cannot remember. He is buried with his wife at the cemetery up the road. They lost their three children very young.

 

Connors:   Pardon? How did the children die?

 

Fairchild:   Influenza. It killed many back then just after the Great War,

 

Connors:   Why isn’t his name on the stone?

 

Fairchild:    You don’t need to be named on a stone to be remembered. There was some Lord’s daughter who put the first layer of mortar down and was only there because of her father’s influence.  There are not many of the old buildings left. I don’t get around much like I used to, but I see the change. There should be a lessening of progress and more of remembrance.

Connors:    Sometimes it’s for the best. You have to let go sometime.

Fairchild:  That is what's annoying. The council didn't show common sense in         condemning this lovely building. (He holds up a piece of mortar). This old mortar’s as strong as it was on the first day it was first put between the stone. Cement will never live with mortar! They cannot build from the foundations now. It is all iron girders and prefabricated parts.  I don’t call that workmanship. All the old skill have faded from memory.

 

Connors:    What was your trade, if you don’t mind me asking?

 

Fairchild: (Laughs) Haven’t you guessed?

 

Connors:     You were probably a carpenter?

 

Fairchild:    I was a mason for nearly fifty years. I picked up how to do many things. (He looks at his hand). Never listen when anyone tells you that you are not capable of doing anything. How many of your lads could point a building without using one of those guns?

 

Connors:     I doubt if any of them could.

 

Fairchild:    That’s what I am telling you. What happens when the old knowledge is disregarded?

                                                                                                                                 

Connors:    I do understand what you are saying. You have to remember that working methods have improved and, in some cases, surpassed the old skills.  

 

Fairchild:    I will never believe that. You cannot put up these buildings quickly and call them good. There is nothing to them. I would rather see a true love of labour  than something which is slapdash and will require repairs in a few years.

Connors:     The new hospital will be as worthy as the last one. The market dictates how we build now, Fairchild. The contract my firm was given was awarded by tender and we are proven in our field. Tell me, what are you going to do with the memorial tablet?

 

Fairchild:    It will probably go into the garden for now. I am hoping the mining museum will be interested in it. They have put on a few good exhibitions recently, but that’s not the kind of thing that should be remembered. Too many lives were lost. They never put the men and children’s names on the stone. They deserve that at the least.

Connors:    Some of my lads could put it on one of the trucks for you?

 

Fairchild:    There will be no need for that. My grandsons are supposed to pick it up if they can remember to keep time.

 

Connors:    Do you fancy a cup of tea?

                                                                                                                 

Fairchild:    Tea gives me indigestion.

 

Connors:    Coffee?

 

Fairchild:    I may have a cup later if I am still waiting. Mary is cooking stew for tea and I had better show some enthusiasm.

 

Connors: (Laughs)    I am partial to stew.

 

Fairchild:   Then we have something in common.

 

 A car drives by in the distance. Fairchild brushes dust off the stone, while Connor watches him.

Fairchild:    Do you mind me asking how many jobs have been created?

 

Connors:    About thirty-five so far. This will change when the retail sections are completed. We are ahead of schedule with that.

 

 Fairchild:   I thought there would have been more than that with the six hundred thousand quid which is being spent. . .