Car 3

Ms Christine Marre

Outward appearance

Small freckled woman, flaming red hair, Lucille Ball lipstick, black ski pants, tiny Chinese flat shoes, floral print shirt, floral jumper. Keeps looking urgently over her shoulder, as if pursued.

Inside information

Typesetter for Epik Publications, specialists in gardening and military subjects. She has been telling everyone her husband is an undercover agent who infiltrated the IRA ten years ago. Now, in the ceasefire, they do not know how to safely get him out.

None of this is true. Whenever her phone rings, Christine runs to it as if expecting news. She pastiches fear, tension, drama. Ten local women worked part time at Epik, sorting post, packing books. They started asking things like "how are you able to tell us this?" When they caught her out with inconsistencies, she apologized "I have to mislead you, slightly."

She's shopped them to the Benefits Agency, anonymously. They've all lost their jobs. She is safe, for a while.

What she is doing or thinking

Christine is acting out several dramas at once, the pursued woman, the citizen against fraud. She fumes against her boss. He was using benefit to subsidize underpaying his workers. It's not her fault he fired them all rather than pay them properly.

There is something empty and gnawing that won't go away. Chris lives alone, in terror of being invisible. She lives in terror of being found out. She lives for the moments clinging in panic to the telephone with other people listening. She looks over her shoulder again. Can people see she is a woman with a desperate story?

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