From this foul-mouthed slut, skank (her own words) for the first twenty minutes, she later attempts redemption by being kind to an amputee ex-soldier by kissing what he describes as his ugly stump and having sex with him.  Here we leave slummy Cardiff to get into the world of princesses and unicorns with Effie’s fantasy that she can spend the rest of her life with this man and “not be alone”. 

It is a dramatic technique I first remember being used in the National Theatre of Scotland’s Black Watch.   A group of foul mouthed, sexist squaddies eventually emerge as a magnificent fighting force with a long and honourable history tied to this country.  (Imagine the reception of that production in these days of awareness of brutal colonial history?)  It is turn around drama making you rethink first impressions.  But it is also manipulative.

Effie‘s dreams of a future with her one legged, one night lover are shattered as her texts lie unanswered and her phone doesn’t ring.  The news that he doesn’t want to see her comes via another squaddie with a double sting as to his unavailability and the impact on him of their sexual intercourse. 

There is also the effect on her, not a woman preparing herself to give birth to a healthy baby, going into premature labour on an understaffed labour ward.  Now the NHS is at fault and when she chooses not to sue for a minimum of £260,000 for the death of a very premature baby she tells us we owe her!  The audience can stop laughing and instead blame the underfunded NHS.  Though how the NHS is to get funded from Effie’s contributions is a mystery.

So is this play really about the funding of the NHS or the willingness of ambulance chasing legals to scalp every penny out of the Health Service?  No wonder junior doctors are reluctant to go into obstetrics and gynaecology because of the legal battles.

As you may tell this “how our government lets people like Effie down” drama is not one I relish.

Perhaps she has a future as a sex therapist for amputees?