大象传媒

听

Mat -

Hello, and welcome to the Ouch podcast. I鈥檓 Mat Fraser, actor and writer, and also the curator of CripTales, a series of monologues written, directed and performed by disabled people. Today鈥檚 is the second that Ouch will feature in their week of podcasts to mark the Disability Discrimination Act鈥檚 25th anniversary.

鈥楾he Real Deal鈥�, staring Liz Carr, is about the UK benefits system and how some disabled people don鈥檛 get what鈥檚 theirs, whilst others, who may be fakers, get the full bundle. These monologues were made originally for TV, so let me set the scene. Curtains twitch and disability rights clash with disability wrongs as a strange alliance forms. But with a benefits cheat page up on line and a finger hovering over a click what is going to happen? I don鈥檛 want to give anything away, but Meg, the heroine of this story believes in justice. I hope you enjoy it.

Liz -

[keyboard clicking] It鈥檚 when he winked at me I knew he had to be stopped. I鈥檓 not a snitch but there comes a point, and it鈥檚 a sharp one, when you can鈥檛 ignore things any longer. Hmm. 14:52. White vest is back. On the dot as usual. Say what you like about him, and I do, the one thing I can鈥檛 fault is his time keeping. Shoot. Shoot for God鈥檚 sake. Every day the same agonising performance. A slow, painful walk around the block with that stick of his. Every afternoon the same. At 14:54 precisely he limps back into his house, pulling his trousers up over his鈥� considerable backside as he goes.

I know a faker when I see one. We鈥檙e all meant to be good little lambs, tripping off to slaughter, but it鈥檚 a criminal act we鈥檙e talking about here. I simply can鈥檛 let him get away with it. He鈥檚 back out again. He never comes out at this time. Shoot. 15:55 white vest walking with stick. You see, it鈥檚 not even touching the ground, there鈥檚 no weight on it at all, and he鈥檚 wearing a jacket over that vest of his. Going somewhere smart are we? Hmm, if I didn鈥檛 know better I鈥檇 say someone was off to meet a lady friend.

[doorbell rings] He looms over me like a shadow, on stilts, and despite watching him day in, day out, we鈥檝e hardly ever spoken. 鈥淎ll right?鈥� he says, trying to make it sound casual. 鈥淵es, Mr Giles? Were you and your stick just passing?鈥� 鈥淟ook, I know it鈥檚 a big favour,鈥� he says, gripping his stick tighter, and I wonder if he might strike me, 鈥渂ut could I borrow your wheelchair?鈥� 鈥淚t鈥檚 broken. Sorry.鈥� This isn鈥檛 a lie. The battery鈥檚 kaput and I haven鈥檛 had the energy to get another one. Some days I just can鈥檛 be bothered. Rage and fatigue fight it out in my body and the fatigue wins. Fatigue always wins.

White vest comes straight back with, 鈥淣o problem, I can soon get it fixed up for you. What are neighbours for?鈥� I don鈥檛 know what to do with my face so I study the carpet intensely as he barges his way in. His eyes are gleaming now. 鈥淗ad my eye on one of these babies on the net for a while,鈥� he says, 鈥渂ut then I thought, why don鈥檛 I go and see my old friend Sue?鈥� 鈥淢eg,鈥� I correct him, 鈥渂ut my name鈥檚 Miss Davis.鈥� White vest plays with a bit of mucus on his finger as he studies my chair and me in it.

鈥淗mm, I could soon get her fixed up. Even got a battery at home, just don鈥檛 ask what lorry it fell off.鈥� I want to shout, 鈥淟ook here, Mr Giles, my wheelchair is not a baby, it鈥檚 functional, to get me from one place to another.鈥� But before I even realised what鈥檚 happened white vest has literally taken my chair from under me. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e a brick, Sue. Good thing I came over isn鈥檛 it? Your knight in shining armour.鈥� Bloody cheek. 鈥淵ou haven鈥檛 said why you want it,鈥� I say. 鈥淒id I not mention?鈥� White vest tries to look innocent. 鈥淚鈥檝e got my face to face PIP assessment tomorrow, and well, you鈥檙e got to up your game haven鈥檛 you?鈥� He lets the word assessment fizz like a tablet dropping in water. God, I need some painkillers.

My whole body burns. 鈥淏ut you don鈥檛 need a wheelchair,鈥� I say. 鈥淣ot at the moment,鈥� he says dramatically, 鈥渂ut in a year, who knows? I mean, they don鈥檛 know how degenerative this condition of mine might be.鈥� I feel sick. 鈥淚鈥檒l bring it back,鈥� he shouts, pushing it down the drive. 鈥淎 deal鈥檚 a deal.鈥� 鈥淭hank you,鈥� I call, as if he鈥檚 done me the favour. Why the hell did I say thank you? [music]

White vest makes me feel like they did at the assessment centre. From the moment the x-ray eyed receptionist smiled at me I knew I鈥檇 lost. I tried so hard to look capable, smart, even though I felt like an imposter. 鈥淛ust be yourself, Meg. Sit tall, smile.鈥� My mother鈥檚 voice comes through as always. But as I sit there I think of how it was because I attended her funeral that I lost my benefits. I chose her over them and now I鈥檓 paying for it. Of course, x-ray eyes sees right through me. My guilt. The fact that I felt I didn鈥檛 deserve it. For hours the night before I made a list of all the things I couldn鈥檛 do and in the morning I felt worthless. I held it tightly in my hand but the more questions they asked me the more my hand went into spasm, and the paper crumpled. I crumpled.

The next day you-know-who is back, zooming down the road, running down my new battery. 鈥淜ing of the road, me!鈥� he shouts from the street, like a pit-bull with two tails. I want to punch those yellow teeth of his as he jumps nimbly from my wheelchair. There鈥檚 not a shred of decency in the man. I brandish my assessment letter at him. 鈥淟ook,鈥� I shout, 鈥渋t鈥檚 so bloody unfair! I go to them, they give me nothing, you go to them, they hand it to you on a plate. Just leave me alone.鈥� He lunges on the assessment letter, like a hungry vulture, and for the first time I see a genuine light shining in his eyes. 鈥淵ou can appeal,鈥� he says. I feel all the air go out of me, like a deflated balloon. It鈥檚 so humiliating. I say, 鈥淵ou have to fight.鈥� White vest grabs me by the shoulders. 鈥淵ou know your trouble? You simply don鈥檛 look disabled enough.鈥� My jaw hits the floor. 鈥淵ou dress too smart.鈥� 鈥淚 have my pride,鈥� I shout. He just shakes his head. 鈥淎nd where鈥檚 pride ever got you?鈥�

Without warning he waltzes in and starts rummaging through my dirty washing basket. I desperately try to stop him as bras and knickers fly but finally he holds up my oldest, dirtiest blouse. 鈥淭his is the one,鈥� he says, salivating like a huge, horny Doberman. 鈥淲here this to your next assessment and they鈥檒l never be able to turn you down.鈥� Then white vest tips the whole basket onto the floor, going through it like a pig searching for truffles. Out comes some sweat pants鈥� that I鈥檇 wet myself in last week and hadn鈥檛 been able to wash. 鈥淟ovely,鈥� he says, smelling the crotch.

What white vest is suggesting is terrible. I mean, horrible, wrong. But they are my clothes after all. I mean, it鈥檚 not exactly lying. Stop it, Meg, don鈥檛 even think of it. But in that terrible moment I just know white vest is right. 鈥淵ou need to be more disabled,鈥� he shouts at our daily training session. 鈥淚 am disabled!鈥� I screamed in his face, and I felt it. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think you really want this.鈥� I wanted to forget I even existed. I could feel my old friend, fatigue, taking over and white vest was ready to take full advantage. 鈥淒on鈥檛 sit tall, slump. Dribble a bit. Oh, they love that. Slump more. More. Look pained. Look vacant. Don鈥檛 shake hands. No make-up. No sleep the night before. Now you鈥檙e the real deal. But most important of all, don鈥檛 speak. I鈥檒l do all the talking.鈥� The easiest part of white vest鈥檚 plan was the not sleeping. By going blithely along had I made myself exactly like him? A good little lamb to the slaughter.

White vest told a pack of lies, of course, but they believed every word that came from his silver tongue. 鈥淣o, Miss Davis can鈥檛 wipe her own arse. Miss Davis can鈥檛 fold her own sheets. Miss Davis can鈥檛 cook a meal. Miss Davis can鈥檛 stand up, sit down or do the hokey-cokey. Don鈥檛 you understand? Miss David couldn鈥檛 even open the envelope your letter arrived in.鈥� When we got out we celebrated. Actually, we celebrated all afternoon. White vest even bought me champagne. Okay, it was cheap supermarket stuff but I鈥檓 not complaining.

When it was time for him to go I said, 鈥淢r Giles, thank you.鈥� And he said, 鈥淐all me Nigel.鈥� And then he winked at me again. That was your mistake, Nigel. You鈥檝e made me see things clearer than I have done for weeks. You鈥檝e made me feel alive again. You鈥檝e reminded me that you can鈥檛 get away with it. And I am the real deal.

Mat -

As we see Meg鈥檚 screen of the Home Office benefits cheat page her fingers hover over the click to submit a report on her neighbour. There鈥檚 a pause, with great tension. She clicks, submit.

听