The Wolves of Willoughby Chase

Joan Aiken, Russ Tunney

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9781780012520
• Topic: Letteratura
• Subtopic: Teatro britannico

A thrilling, funny and spectacular adaptation of Joan Aiken's classic children's novel, perfectly suited to performance by theatre companies and drama groups of any size.

A thrilling adventure set in an alternative history of England, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase tells the story of two brave and determined girls as they fight against ferocious wolves, snowy wastelands and their very evil guardian, Miss Slighcarp. The opening of the Channel Tunnel has led to dangerous wolves roaming Britain, but this is not the only danger that cousins Bonnie and Sylvia, and their friend Simon the Goose-boy, must face as they encounter unforgettable characters and mysterious scheming.

Russ Tunney's magical adaptation of The Wolves of Willoughby Chase was first performed at the Layard Theatre, Wimbourne, in 2010. It was originally performed by a cast of five, but it has also been staged by – and is suitable for – much larger casts. Featuring a chorus who narrate, sing and comment on the action, and plenty of opportunities for song and dance, this version will suit any theatre company, youth theatre or drama group wanting to exercise their theatrical imagination.

ACT ONE

Scene One

Prologue

A wind whistles through the space leaving the sound of a lost music box playing a long-forgotten song of childhood, or an old, old carol. The sound of a steam train approaches and rushes past. There is a long howl from the woods. Five characters emerge, wrapped in furs, warily.

CHORUS.

Once upon a time that never was,

In 1832,

In an England that never existed,

In the reign of King James III

A great house stood in the midst

Of fields and woods and lake

And the snow fell like night.

A mother lies in her bed, resting

As her husband wipes her brow.

A girl stands by a great window

Watching a robin circle the rowan tree.

Meanwhile, far away in London

Another girl, a frail and timid mouse,

Who hides behind her own shadow,

Boards a train for the perilous journey

Across this famished frozen land.

It is dusk. White winter dusk.

Flakes fall on the roadside.

There is movement in the trees

And hungry eyes watch,

Closely, attentively,

Yellow eyes flicker,

Ears pricked,

Sinews stiffened,

Poised.

Icicles hang from the branches

Of the forest trees that line the road

That cuts through the heart of Willoughby Wold.

On the icy road of compacted snow,

Footprints merge with paw prints.

The road winds, inescapably, to the comfort

Of the old house, the great house –

Willoughby Chase.

Snow lies thick on the roof of the Chase

As smoke drifts from one of the chimneys

Dotted amongst the turrets and windows and balconies,

Drifting upward from the warm and inviting fire

Lit in the playroom of little Bonnie Green

Who dances impatiently before the great window

Overlooking the snow-covered road.

Waiting. Dreaming. Watching.

We see BONNIE. Behind her is her faithful servant JAMES.

Scene Two

Winter Journeys

JAMES. Come and sit by the fire, Miss Bonnie. We shall hear soon enough. You’ll make yourself as sick as your mother, poor lamb. Come, Miss Bonnie, and sit.

Pause. BONNIE does not move.

BONNIE. I hope that the train is not delayed by wolves.

A wolf howls over the landscape. It is neither close nor distant. Suddenly the sound of the train again. The characters form the carriage. A girl, SYLVIA, sits staring out of the window. It has already been a tense journey. She is clutching her beloved doll Annabelle. There is an uncertain pause as the train continues its difficult journey. A man, MR GRIMSHAW, enters the carriage. He is quiet and brooding and large. He sits opposite her. A GUARD slides into the compartment.

GUARD. Tickets, please!

MR GRIMSHAW shows his ticket without looking at the GUARD. SYLVIA has to hunt for hers.

Come on, miss, I haven’t got all day.

SYLVIA. Sorry, my aunt packed my bag... here it is.

She hands it over.

GUARD. You’d best wrap up – it’s cold at night. And don’t get too close to the windows. It’s a full moon and the wolves are watching.

He leaves. MR GRIMSHAW is still watching her.

MR GRIMSHAW. This won’t do. Here, have a chocolate –

SYLVIA. No, thank you. I never touch chocolate.

MR GRIMSHAW. Come along. All girls like chocolate –

SYLVIA. Ladies never eat in public. And they never speak to strangers –

MR GRIMSHAW. It’s only chocolate – it’ll warm you up –

SYLVIA. If you speak to me again, I’ll pull the cord!

A sudden wolf howl and a whistle. The scene dissolves – we are back in Willoughby Chase. A WOMAN lies on a bed being tended to by a DOCTOR. Standing near are her footman, JAMES, and BONNIE.

JAMES. Your father is coming up the stairs, Miss Bonnie –

BONNIE. James. Look out of the window. There’s a storm brewing. It is unfolding over the Chase.

JAMES. Don’t fret, Miss Bonnie. Believe in the dawn, and the night will soon be over.

Enter SIR WILLOUGHBY.

SIR WILLOUGHBY. Blast it all, minx. That it should come to this. I’d no rather leave you than I’d let a tiger eat my leg.

BONNIE. I’ll be fine, Father. I’ll ride and skate and sing. I won’t even notice that you’ve gone.

SIR WILLOUGHBY. You’re a devilish ray of light and we’d be poorer without you. If we could bottle your spirit and feed it to your poor mother she’d be cured in minutes. You beautiful, rugged, full-hearted minx.

Pause.

Your mother and I will be leaving tonight, Bonnie. We shall be gone for three months. Your mother’s condition is... worsening. She needs the sun, and clean air.

BONNIE. I understand, Father. Don’t worry about me. Just come home safe.

SIR WILLOUGHBY. I’d fight all the demons in Hell to make your mother well again. A little boat ride will be nothing. We love you like we love the birds in the sky and the fish in the lake. We’ll be back here in no time at all, my little redcheeked Jezebel. Make sure you cause just enough trouble while we’re gone that the servants will know where you are.

BONNIE. I will, Father. I’ll keep them honest.

SIR WILLOUGHBY. James will be here, and the other servants. You will want for nothing. And I have sent for your cousin Sylvia who lives in London to keep you company. She’s had a terrible life, poor thing, and she’ll need the company as much as you. She’s a timid, fragile thing – they have no money at all and will not accept help. They will not permit me to do anything for them. When Gripe tells me of their condition, it makes me as angry as a cornered bear. It is pride, little minx, pride that will do for them.

BONNIE. Will Mother recover, Father?

SIR WILLOUGHBY. I hope so, Bonnie, I hope so. I’m not sure what we would do without her. She’ll recover, and we’ll all be together again. And I’ll tear the stars from the sky if she isn’t.

BONNIE. And I’ll drown them in the ocean for you, Father.

SIR WILLOUGHBY. I love you, little Bonnie Green.

BONNIE. I know.

SIR WILLOUGHBY. There is one more thing, Bonnie. You remember Mr Gripe, my lawyer? You remember his kindness? Well, I have arranged with him for you to have a new governess. She is a distant cousin of mine, and her name is Miss Slighcarp. Bonnie, she will take care of you and watch over you always.

MISS SLIGHCARP enters. She is tall and thin and sharp-looking. A wolf howls.

We are back on the train. SYLVIA and MR GRIMSHAW are alone in the carriage. She looks out of the window.

MR GRIMSHAW begins to eat cheese from his bag. SYLVIA, who is hungry, starts to look through her bag for something to eat. She is watched by MR GRIMSHAW, who is now finished, and brings over a rug to keep her warm. He smiles at her.

MR GRIMSHAW. There. Now we both feel better.

SYLVIA. Thank you. It was most kind of you to lend me your rug.

MR GRIMSHAW. Cheese? Cheddar? Wensleydale? Port Salut? You must be hungry. I’m always hungry. I’m hungry like a horse, hungry like a dog, hungry like a wol–

SYLVIA. My Aunt Jane told me never to eat in front of strangers.

MR GRIMSHAW. Well. That’s all very well but your Aunt Jane isn’t here, is she? And she’s not the one going hungry on a train, travelling all night and day without so much as a scrap of food, is she?

He tosses her some cheese. She tentatively eats.

Couldn’t ha...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Production Notes
• Original Production
• Dedication
• Characters
• The Wolves of Willoughby Chase
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information