Diary date: 2nd March, 1985
Remember what it was like to make a telephone call to a place, not a person? Here’s how it was. . .
[A public payphone rings in a crowded student common room in a hall of residence. Sarah looks round and realises that no-one else is going to answer it. She picks it up.]
“Hello?”
“Oh hi, it’s Andrew’s mum here. I was wondering if he was there?”
“Hi Andrew’s mum! It’s Sarah here. Give me a second and I’ll see if I can find him for you.”
[Sarah turns to the room.]
“Anybody seen Andrew?”
[Various shakes of the head. No-one replies. Sarah goes to stand by the stairs.]
“Tony! Are you up there? Tony! Is Kirsty with you? Andrew’s mum’s on the phone and I was wondering if she knew if he was in? Tony? Oh, for goodness sake!”
[Sarah returns to the phone.]
“Andrew’s mum? Hi, it’s Sarah here again. Really sorry, but I’m going to have to go and have a look. Can you hang on?”
“Yes of course.”
“OK. I won’t be a minute.”
[Sarah runs up three flights of stairs to Andrew’s room and knocks on his door.]
“Andrew? It’s Sarah. Your mum’s on the phone. Andrew?”
[Andrew appears at the door, looking hung over.]
“Thanks, Sarah. Can you tell her I’ll be down in a minute?”
[Andrew pulls his clothes on and drags himself downstairs five minutes later. He picks up the phone, trying to ignore everyone else in the room.]
“Hi Mum.”
2nd March, 2013
. . . and here’s how it is now:
[Andrew is asleep in bed. His mobile rings. He is slightly hung over and winces at the ringtone. He reaches over, picks it up and looks at the screen. It’s his mum. He groans, presses reject, rolls over, and tries to get back to sleep.]
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