A black hole sign is the dark area of a CT scan that suggests a haemorrhage on the brain. A black hole could also be the gap that has opened up in the ceiling of a windowless A&E department, where a drip becomes a torrent, a metaphor for a crumbling NHS. And a “black hole of greed” is what playwright Uma Nada-Rajah sees in a system in which profit frequently comes before health.
As a staff nurse who works in critical care, Nada-Rajah writes with authority. All her characters, whether it is the recovering alcoholic with hours to live (Beruce Khan), the self-harming young woman who claims to have had a fall (Betty Valencia), the delirious octogenarian who thinks she is at a 1970s disco (Ann Louise Ross) or the man with a spike in his buttocks (Martin Docherty), have the ring of messy truth.
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