Leave Taking
In 60 seconds
Enid, a Jamaican-born woman living in London, throws a party to send her daughter Viv off to university. Her other daughter, Del, arrives drunk and furious, recites a poem about being left behind, and gets slapped. Behind the party lies a secret: Del is not Enid's daughter but her dead sister's child, and a duppy — a restless spirit — shadows the family because the proper rituals were never done. When the truth finally comes out, Del walks out to find out who she is, leaving Enid alone with a photograph and a promise she kept but couldn't fulfil.
Before you start
Why it matters
Winsome Pinnock's play gives the Windrush generation's silence a face: a mother who crossed an ocean and never talked about what she left behind. It's for anyone interested in migration, family secrets, and the way unspoken grief passes down a generation — and for anyone who has ever been raised by someone who loved them without explaining themselves.
Spoilers ahead
The story
- 1
Act 1
The Party Nobody Wants
In the living room of her London home, Enid is planning a farewell party for her daughter Viv, who is leaving for university. Her friend Brod — a retired postman and an obeah man — thinks the whole thing is nonsense, and he thinks her attachment to England is nonsense too. 'You know what your problem is, Enid? You don't know where you belong,' he tells her. 'You think is England you belong, but you don't. And you can't go back to Jamaica.' She answers that after five years in this country she has never got used to the cold; he says she has, she just won't admit it. When Viv comes in, Enid orders her to attend her own party. Viv refuses — she doesn't want a party, she isn't a child — and Enid shuts her down: 'You are my child and you will do as I say.' The party itself is a minefield. Brod pours rum on the floor and calls on the ancestors, 'for those who suffered so that we might be free.' Then Del, Enid's other daughter, turns up late, drunk and hostile, demanding to know why the celebration is only for Viv: 'You never give me no party. You never give me nothing.' She reads a poem — 'I am the one who stayed behind' — and Enid slaps her. Del runs into the night; Viv runs after her.
- 2
Act 2
The Sister's Child
With the house emptied, Brod pushes Enid to face what she left in Jamaica. 'You can't run away from it forever, Enid. It will follow you. It will follow your children.' Cornered, she confesses: Del is not her daughter at all. She is the child of Enid's sister, who died in childbirth. 'I took her and I raised her as my own.' Worse, Enid believes her sister's death was no accident. Their mother never performed the rituals for the dead — no nine-night, no forty-day — so the spirit never rested, and a duppy, a restless ghost, took her sister. Meanwhile the sisters talk. Viv tells Del she leaves for university the next day, and Del turns on her: 'You're leaving me here with her. You're leaving me with the mad woman.' Del describes a dream she keeps having — drowning while Enid stands on the shore, watching, doing nothing. 'She just watches me go under.' Viv, the sensible one, tells her to stop blaming their mother and take responsibility for her own life. Del's answer is the flattest, coldest line in the play: 'What life? I don't have a life. I have a sentence.'
- 3
Act 3
Grey Skies, Old Ghosts
Brod keeps pressing. Enid must tell Del the truth about who she is. Enid refuses — 'It would destroy her. It would destroy everything' — but Brod won't let up: 'The truth is the only thing that can save her.' Instead of the truth, Enid offers memory. She remembers the boat that brought her: 'I came on a boat. The Windrush. I thought I was coming to the mother country. I thought I was coming home.' What she found was colourless. 'It was grey. Everything was grey. The sky, the buildings, the people. I thought, this is not my home. This will never be my home.' The silence she built around Jamaica starts to crack from the other side too. Del confronts her mother, demanding to know why Jamaica is never mentioned. 'There is nothing to tell. It is over. It is finished,' Enid says. Del doesn't buy it: 'You think you can just wipe it all away... But it did happen. And it's still happening. It's happening to me.' The past Enid buried is living in her daughter's body.
- 4
Act 4
The Truth and the Leaving
Brod performs a ritual to reach the dead — a glass of water, a candle, a call to the spirits: 'If you are here, show us a sign.' The candle flickers. Whether it's a draught or an answer, it breaks Enid open. She finally tells Del everything: 'You are not my daughter. You are my sister's child. My sister died giving birth to you. I took you and I raised you because I promised her I would.' Del's reaction is not rage but recognition. 'All my life I felt like something was wrong. Like I didn't belong. Now I know why. I don't belong anywhere.' In the final scene she packs a bag. Enid begs her to stay — 'I did my best. I did everything I could' — and Del answers, 'It wasn't enough.' Before she goes she says she has to find out who she is, and she can't do that here, with Enid. Then she's gone. Enid is left alone in the living room with a photograph of her sister. 'I kept my promise. I kept her safe. But I couldn't keep her.' The lights fade to black.
Who's who
Characters
- EnidA Jamaican-born mother in London who came on the Windrush believing she was going home. She buried her sister's death and her own displacement under silence and discipline — and loses the daughter she raised to the truth she refused to tell.
- DelEnid's other daughter, the one who stayed behind, drunk and furious at a party meant for her sister. Learning she is her dead aunt's child confirms a lifetime of feeling she belongs nowhere, and she leaves to find out who she is.
- VivThe daughter going to university, the one the party is for. She resists her mother's control, defends her sister, and urges Del to take responsibility — then leaves the next day as planned.
- BrodA retired postman and obeah man who sees through Enid's evasions. He pours libation, reads the candle, and keeps insisting the truth is the only thing that can save Del.
What it's really about
Themes
Displacement and belonging
Enid came to England on the Windrush believing she was going home to the mother country, and found only grey — sky, buildings, people. Brod names her condition bluntly: she doesn't belong in England and can't go back to Jamaica. Her daughter Del inherits the same wound without knowing its source, feeling all her life that something was wrong. When the truth comes out, Del concludes she doesn't belong anywhere. The play's point is that displacement isn't cured by a passport or a house — it gets handed down until someone names it.
Family secrets and the cost of silence
Enid hides Del's parentage for years, insisting the truth would destroy her. Brod argues the opposite: the truth is the only thing that can save her. The play stages the battle between these positions. Del's poem, her drowning dream, her sense of being a sentence rather than a life — all are symptoms of a secret she can feel but can't see. When Enid finally speaks, the revelation doesn't destroy Del; it explains her. The book's point: silence doesn't protect children from the past, it just leaves them alone with it.
The dead and the unfinished rituals
Brod, an obeah man, pours rum for the ancestors at the party and later calls the spirits with water and a candle that flickers. Enid believes her sister died because their mother never performed the nine-night or the forty-day, so the spirit never rested and a duppy took her. The rituals are how the living settle their debts to the dead; skipping them leaves accounts open. The play's point is that grief needs ceremony — and a family that refuses its own rites passes the unrest down like an inheritance.
Mothers, daughters, and impossible promises
Enid's control — ordering Viv to attend her own party, slapping Del — is love in its most rigid form, shaped by a promise made to a dying sister. Del experiences it as captivity: no party, no nothing, a sentence instead of a life. Viv gets a version of the same iron will and pushes back. The ending holds both truths at once: Enid kept her promise and kept her sister's child safe, but couldn't keep her. The book's point is that doing your best, even heroically, doesn't entitle you to the person you did it for.
Look closer
Symbols
- The libation of rum
- Brod pours rum on the floor and invokes the ancestors who suffered so the living might be free. It is the old world's ceremony performed in a London living room — a reminder that the dead are owed acknowledgement. The party Enid throws for Viv is a secular version of the same rite, and both fail to include the person who most needs honouring: Del.
- The flickering candle
- In Brod's ritual, a glass of water and a candle are set out and the spirits are asked for a sign. The candle flickers. It stands at the hinge of the play: whatever Enid has refused to believe — duppies, the unrest of her sister's spirit — becomes undeniable enough to make her speak. The truth arrives through the old beliefs she tried to leave behind.
- The photograph of the sister
- The last image of the play: Enid alone, holding a photograph of the sister who died giving birth to Del. It stands for the promise Enid kept and the person she erased to keep it. Del has walked out; the photo is what remains of the woman Enid never mentioned — grief finally given a face, too late to share it.
- The drowning dream
- Del dreams of drowning while Enid stands on the shore, watching her go under. It is the play's whole mother-daughter relationship in one image: a child going down and a parent whose watching looks like indifference. It also echoes the duppy story — a death by water in the family that no ritual ever settled.
Spoilers
Ending explained
The ending refuses to let anyone off. Del leaves not in a tantrum but on a mission — to find out who she is, which she cannot do under the roof of the woman who raised her under a false name. Enid's last lines hold the play's cruel arithmetic: she kept her promise, she kept her sister's child safe, and still lost her. One reading is tragic — the truth Brod demanded 'saved' Del only by taking her away, so honesty and loss arrive in the same breath. Another reading is hopeful: Del walking out is the first act of a self-chosen life, the end of being a sentence. The photograph and the fade to black leave Enid with the dead instead of the living, which is where her silence always pointed. It lands because it doesn't reconcile — it simply shows the price.
For class or book club
Discussion questions
- 1.Is Brod right that the truth is the only thing that can save Del — or does the ending prove Enid's warning that it would destroy everything? Weigh what Del gains and loses from the revelation.
- 2.Enid believes her sister died because the nine-night and forty-day rituals were never performed. How do the play's spiritual beliefs — duppies, libation, the flickering candle — function as a language for grief that Enid otherwise refuses to speak?
- 3.Compare the two daughters: Viv, who is sent off with a party she didn't want, and Del, who got nothing. What does the play suggest about favouritism, inheritance, and who pays for a parent's past?
Worth remembering
Best lines
“You know what your problem is, Enid? You don't know where you belong.”
“What life? I don't have a life. I have a sentence.”
“I came on a boat. The Windrush. I thought I was coming to the mother country. I thought I was coming home.”
“I kept my promise. I kept her safe. But I couldn't keep her.”
A fair critique
Where it falls short
The play leans hard on revelation: Del's whole alienation is explained by a single secret, which can feel too neat for the messiness of real family damage. Brod functions partly as a plot device — the wise obeah man who knows what everyone needs to hear — and the spirits' sign, the flickering candle, asks an audience to accept a supernatural nudge the play never confirms or denies. Some may also find Viv underwritten once she has served her purpose as the departing daughter. These are small costs in a play whose emotional honesty is its real engine.
In one sentence
A mother's buried past — a dead sister, an unfinished ritual, a child raised under a false name — surfaces at a farewell party and costs her the daughter she tried to keep.
Is it for you?
Who should read it
Readers drawn to Windrush-era stories, family secrets, and plays where the supernatural is simply part of how a family explains itself. Also anyone who has ever suspected that what a parent won't say shapes a child more than what they do.
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FAQ
What is Leave Taking about?
Leave Taking is a play by Winsome Pinnock about a Jamaican immigrant mother and her two British-born daughters in London. It explores their struggles with identity, cultural heritage, and the legacy of migration. The arrival of an Obeah woman helps them confront their past and heal their fractured relationships.
Is Leave Taking worth reading?
Yes, Leave Taking is a powerful and moving play that offers a rare perspective on the Caribbean-British experience. Its poetic language, complex characters, and exploration of themes like identity and spirituality make it a rewarding read for anyone interested in contemporary drama or postcolonial literature.
How does Leave Taking end?
Spoiler: The play ends with a ritual led by Mai that brings the family to a catharsis. Enid confesses her secret about leaving a child in Jamaica, and her daughters learn the truth. Del decides to keep her baby, Viv embraces her heritage, and the family finds a new sense of unity and hope.
Who should read Leave Taking?
Readers interested in British theatre, Caribbean literature, and stories about immigration and identity will find Leave Taking compelling. It is also valuable for students of drama and postcolonial studies, as well as anyone who appreciates character-driven plays with emotional depth.
How long does it take to read Leave Taking?
Leave Taking is a short play, typically around 80 pages. At an average reading speed of 250 words per minute, it would take about 2 hours to read, but most readers will finish it in one sitting of 1-2 hours.
Who wrote Leave Taking?
Leave Taking was written by Winsome Pinnock.