Scene 4

Lionels grubby flat.

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                  People ask why I never married. Well, I’m married to dozens of people. I am not married to a lady, and I have no children. But I loved one lady very much, but alas she died. Maybe I should’a married her. (pause)                                                                                                                               I am a gypsy; I am also an Arab. Know what I mean? I lived in Morrocco for over three years, and to me sex and love are two different things. And gender too. There’s love for a man, love for a boy, love for a woman and love for a girl. (pause and laughs)                        So am I bisexual?  (laughs) Maybe I’m trisexual! I don’t know. Whatever! I’m spontaneous.

Pause to pour and drink some vodka. He dozes for a little while, sitting on a settee with a big Teddy Bear. For company

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                        I woke up one day to realise I was my own audience. No one else was looking.

 (he waves the drink  and pats the Teddy)

Then I found Lionel (hugs the Teddy)                                                                                         I couldn’t hold a pen long enough to stop my hands shaking. (laughs) And my drying out sessions lasted as long as Elisabeth Taylor’s diets!

We hear knocking

 I used to kick my day off with a bottle of vodka, and finish it off with two more by the end of it. (laughs) You know, I never really liked the taste of alcohol, but I soon discovered it was the quickest route to oblivion

We can hear knocking again but Lionel ignores it.

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                     I was lonely y’know? (pause) Apart from Alma in 1966 my greatest personal loss came in 1977 when my lifelong friend and drinking partner, Sean Kenny, died. He was only in his early forties. (pause) I wasn’t completely friendless though: John – John Gorman – kept me from losing it completely…

We can hear more loud knocking and a voice shouting.

VOICE:                                                                                                                                    LIONEL! IT’S JOHN. ARE YOU IN THERE? OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                          It’s not bloody locked. There just a table behind it. Give it a good push!

We can hear some noise, then John comes storming in and notices the bear

JOHN:
What the bloody hell…? (points at the bear) Is that the effing bear from the opening night?

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                   That’s Lionel. My new friend. You’re right, he was at the opening night of ‘Lionel’ with me. (pause) What a bloody disaster.

JOHN:                                                                                                                                       I  didn’t see the show myself. Thank God. But I read the reviews. They were, well…desperate.

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                  The whole show was a pile of crap. It struggled on for a few weeks then closed. They say it lost a quarter of a million. (laughs) At least it wasn’t my dough this time. (he pats the Teddy) We could have fixed it, couldn’t we, Lionel? but they barred us from the rehearsals.

JOHN: (seeing him talking to the Teddy)                                                                             Lionel, are you sure you are okay? I mean, talking to…that.  Maybe you should see a psychiatrist.

LIONEL:                                                                                                                                       You’d want to be mad to see a psychiatrist! (pats the bear) What do you think Lionel?

John loses his temper, grabs the bear, and throws it out the door. He starts cleaning up, tossing bottles into the bin. He takes the drink from Lionel and shakes him.)

JOHN:
Snap out of it, Lionel! This isn’t you.

(Lionel looks at him, a mix of defiance and vulnerability in his eyes.)

LIONEL:
Isn’t it?

(Blackout)

Scene 5
(John is talking to the audience. Lionel is in the background, sitting at a table, writing. The lighting is dim, with a spotlight on John. As the scene progresses, the lighting shifts to create a dreamlike atmosphere when Alma appears.)

JOHN: (looking at Lionel)
Look at him. He’s been like that for the best part of twenty years. Ever since Twang! went belly up, to be honest. (shakes his head) It’s hard to calculate how much that disaster cost him. (pause) Well, no. It isn’t. It cost him everything. Maybe even his sanity.

(John walks closer to Lionel’s table, glancing at the papers scattered there.)

I read somewhere that his old place, The Fun Palace, sold recently for one point five million pounds. Bart was forced to sell it for half what he paid for it when you add up all the improvements he made to it. I know, ‘cos I’ve been doing his books more or less since the Twang! fiasco.

(John sighs, then looks back at the audience.)

He doesn’t talk much these days. Just sits there, scribbling away. Songs, mostly. Songs no one will ever hear.

(As John speaks, the lights on Lionel begin to soften, and a faint, ethereal glow appears stage left. Alma steps into the light, dressed as she was in her prime, radiant and smiling. Lionel doesn’t notice her at first, but the audience does. John continues, unaware of Alma’s presence.)

JOHN:
They say you can’t kill a dream, but I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen it happen to him.

(Lionel looks up from his writing, sensing something. He sees Alma. The music begins softly, a haunting piano melody. Lionel stands, slowly, as if in a trance.)

LIONEL: (whispering)
Alma?

ALMA: (smiling)
Hello, Lionel.

(John freezes, as if time has stopped for him. The spotlight on him dims, leaving only Lionel and Alma illuminated. Alma begins to sing the first verse of “The Man I Used to Be.” Her voice is soft, nostalgic, and filled with warmth.)

ALMA: (singing)
I once held the world in my hands,
A kingdom built on melodies and dreams.
But the notes turned to dust, and the stage grew cold,
And nothing’s quite as it seems.

(Lionel joins in, his voice trembling at first but growing stronger as he sings with her. Their voices blend in harmony, creating a poignant, bittersweet duet.)

LIONEL & ALMA: (singing together)
I chased the light, I caught the flame,
But the fire burned too bright to tame.
Now I sit here, pen in hand,
Trying to rewrite what I don’t understand.

(As they reach the chorus, Alma steps closer to Lionel, placing a hand on his shoulder. The lighting shifts to a warm, golden hue, suggesting a moment of connection and healing.)

LIONEL & ALMA: (singing together)
Where is the man I used to be?
The one who danced with destiny.
The songs I wrote, the love I knew,
Are echoes now, but still ring true.

(After the chorus, Alma speaks, her voice gentle but firm.)

ALMA:
You’re still that man, Lionel. The music never left you. It’s still there, inside.

(Lionel looks at her, tears in his eyes.)

LIONEL:
I lost it all, Alma. The money, the fame, the… the Fun Palace. Even you.

ALMA: (smiling softly)
You didn’t lose me. I’ve always been here, in your songs, in your heart.

(She begins to sing the bridge, her voice filled with reassurance. Lionel joins her, their voices intertwining once more.)

ALMA & LIONEL: (singing together)
Maybe the music never dies,
It lives on in the tears we cry.
And though the world has moved along,
The heart still sings its timeless song.

(As they finish the song, Alma steps back, the light around her beginning to fade.)

ALMA:
Keep writing, Lionel. The world still needs your songs.

(She disappears into the shadows. The spotlight returns to John, who unfreezes, unaware of what just transpired. Lionel sits back down, picking up his pen with a renewed sense of purpose. John looks at him, puzzled but relieved.)

JOHN:
Well, I’ll be damned. He’s smiling.

(The lights fade as Lionel begins to write again, the faint sound of a piano melody lingering in the air.)

BLACKOUT.

THE END.