The Doll's House

Kate decided to play the disk sent over by Mark Lynch, of Keith Jenkins’s show, Real People, Real Lives. Lynch had put a note in the box, advising that Johnny Keegan, one of the people on the show, had been taken in for questioning.

The first thing Kate noted about Johnny Keegan was that, physically, he fitted the description given by Grace Power of the man holding up the weakened Keith Jenkins. On the second viewing, Kate rewound the tape to before Johnny Keegan sat beside his girlfriend, Suzanne Clarke, who also happened to be the mother of his child.

Keith Jenkins is positively energised by the time the lame Johnny Keegan walks onto the set, attacking Johnny verbally even before he’s sat down. ‘Do you know what always amazes me, my friend? It’s how guys like you, with the ability to destroy people’s lives, walk out here all downbeat, with their eyes looking to the floor, as if they’re all sorry and humble.’ Johnny sits up straight in the chair, not looking at his girlfriend. Kate noted the controlled rage in Keith Jenkins’s voice when he turns to the audience, as if to get them on his side, then asks, ‘What have you to say for yourself? What have you to say to the mother of your child? Go on. Look at her. Have a good look at the woman you like to beat around the place, like she’s your personal punchbag.’

‘Nothin’. I’ve nothin’ to say.’ Then, looking at his feet, ‘I’m disgusted with myself. I can’t explain it. I don’t know what gets into me.’

‘Don’t know? Don’t know? That’s a nice easy answer.’ Then, like the seasoned professional he was, Keith Jenkins turns back to the audience, keeping the camera in view, bringing the home and studio audience with him, and continues his attack on the now shrinking Johnny Keegan. ‘Yeah, well, men like you, you’re always disgusted afterwards. Did you feel disgusted when you hit her? Did you feel disgusted then?’

‘I was drunk.’

‘That’s a reason for it, is it?’ Jenkins points to Johnny’s girlfriend. ‘Suzanne here, she’s scared of you. Do you know that?’

‘I don’t want her to be scared. I love her.’

‘What’s that? You love her? You’ve a pretty funny way of showing it, mate.’

‘Doesn’t mean it’s not true.’ His tone was quiet, but harsh.

‘Will I tell you something, mate? She might be scared of you, but I’m not, far from it.’

‘I know dat.’ Johnny sits upright again, legs stretched out and apart, shoulders back.

‘Do you know what, Johnny? Do you know what else? When I think about women, girls like little Suzanne here, I have to ask myself a question. Why can’t they see what I can see? Do you know what I see?’

‘No.’

‘I see a selfish idiot who gets his kicks from beating up defenceless women. Someone more interested in pouring alcohol down his throat than doing something to help the woman he says he’s in love with.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Isn’t it? Well, mate, tell that to your girlfriend here. Tell that to your baby son. Let’s see if he gives a damn about you when he’s older, because that, my friend, is very questionable.’

‘I told her I was sorry.’

Suzanne, who has remained silent throughout the whole interview, finally speaks: ‘But you gotta change, Johnny, for me and the baby.’

‘Do you hear her, Johnny? Are you listening? Why don’t you use some of the time you spend drinking to look after your son instead? You do remember him?’

‘I’m nervous.’ Again the young Johnny Keegan looks down to his feet.

‘Nervous? Nervous of what? Is this another handy excuse? What are you saying? That because you drink you can’t be trusted to mind him, to care for him, to do all the things fathers should do? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘In a way, yeah.’ This time he locks eyes with Keith Jenkins.

‘So, because you can’t be trusted, you don’t take any responsibility. That is convenient, isn’t it?’

‘You don’t know anythin’.’

‘Don’t I? I know you, my son, your sort, too busy beating up women to take on a real man.’

And with that, Johnny Keegan’s had enough, leaping out of the chair, attempting to land a blow on Keith Jenkins’s face, before being pulled back by two mules dressed from head to toe in black.