The Haunting

Charles Dickens, Hugh Janes

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2014
• eBook ISBN: 9781780014968
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

A spine-chilling play by Hugh Janes, based on several original ghost stories by Charles Dickens.

In an ancient, crumbling mansion, sheltering from the howling winds that tear across the surrounding desolate moorland, two men stumble across a dark and terrifying secret that will change both of their lives.

When a young book dealer, David Filde, is employed by a former associate of his uncle to catalogue a private library, he finds an incredible array of rare and antiquated books. But as a series of strange and unexplained events conspires to keep Filde from his work, he realises that if he is to convince his sceptical employer that the mysterious phenomena he is experiencing are real, they must journey together to the very edge of terror, and beyond...

Hugh Janes' play The Haunting was first performed at the Theatre Royal, Windsor, in 2010.

The play offers rich material for amateur theatre companies or student groups who want to introduce their audiences to another side of Dickens' work - and have them jump out of their seats at the same time.

ACT ONE

The study of an ancient manor house.

Books and objets d’art fill the dusty shelves. On one side is a large fireplace with shelves either side. A door leads to an antechamber (off). Opposite, a door leads to a corridor and the rest of the house. A bare tree is seen outside the French windows, upstage centre. It is night: the wind howls.

A lamp flickers beyond the window. Horses whinny, their hooves resound in a courtyard as they turn and draw a carriage and the light away. DAVID, asleep in a wing chair, wakes with a start, pulls his coat back round him and returns to sleep. A distant door creaks and slams. Footsteps echo along the corridor, then stop outside.

LORD GRAY enters with an oil lamp and looks about before seeing DAVID.

GRAY. There you are, young man.

DAVID wakes and stands, shivering.

DAVID. Lord Gray? Forgive me, sir. I fell asleep.

GRAY. So it seems. Are you cold?

DAVID. I’m freezing, sir.

GRAY. Someone of your age shouldn’t feel a slight chill.

DAVID. It was snowing outside when I arrived.

GRAY. A peculiarity of this part of the moor.

DAVID. No, in the hall.

GRAY. Ah, that will be the tiles, or lack of them.

DAVID. Is that why it feels colder inside than out?

GRAY. Quite possibly. I’ve seen icicles at that window in the spring. External temperatures have little influence on me.

DAVID. You are fortunate, sir. This is a considerable change to London.

GRAY. That will be the fog.

DAVID. I didn’t see any fog.

GRAY. You won’t in these parts, but I understand it covers London like a blanket.

DAVID. It creeps off the river and festoons its entrails about everything.

GRAY. Filthy stuff.

DAVID. I almost miss it.

DAVID ‘warms’ himself by the unlit fire.

GRAY. You’ll get more warmth from a pea-souper than you will from that hearth. It hasn’t seen a fire in years.

DAVID. It’s enough to see the flames in my mind’s eye. (Looks about.) This room is full of strange fascination. I can tell great minds have been at work in here.

GRAY. Can you? My lawyer only recently received word of your firm’s change; I take it you’ve letters of recommendation?

DAVID. Would you care to see them now?

GRAY. Tomorrow will be no good if they’re unsatisfactory. You’re so late I’d quite given up on you.

DAVID hands letters to GRAY to read.

DAVID. I’m sorry for it, sir, but there was a terrible incident as we were driving away from the station; a woman threw herself into the path of the carriage. She panicked the horses and was kicked by one of them. It happened so quickly there was nothing your driver could do to prevent it.

GRAY. She was probably staggering from The Railway Tavern.

DAVID. Even so, I insisted on taking her to a doctor. She said she only tried to stop the carriage to warn me not to come here, though how she knew it to be my destination I cannot guess.

GRAY. Word travels easily in a small community.

DAVID. She kept saying, ‘I know the secret of the tree.’ Does that mean anything to you?

GRAY. Why would her ramblings mean anything to me?

DAVID. She claimed to have worked here.

GRAY. Perhaps she did when the estate was thriving. The farm manager may have known her.

DAVID. Her name’s Edith Renwick and she’d been a servant.

GRAY. Then the housekeeper would have dealt with her.

DAVID. Does it not seem extraordinary?

GRAY. Only your fixation with something of complete indifference to me. We’ve both been inconvenienced by this woman; now let it be an end to the matter.

DAVID. Forgive me, the episode was after a long and tiring journey.

GRAY. You’re clearly unused to country ways.

DAVID. It’s true, I have not travelled far outside the metropolis.

GRAY. These appear satisfactory.

DAVID. Then allow me to present the firm’s new card.

DAVID takes a card from his pocket and proudly hands it to GRAY to read.

GRAY. ‘By Royal Appointment’?

DAVID. To His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, and the monarchs of two countries. Filde has been a trusted name for nearly one hundred years.

GRAY. ‘Edward Filde and Nephew, Dealers in Antiquarian Books, Manuscripts and Engravings.’ You, I take it, are ‘and Nephew’.

DAVID. Yes, sir.

GRAY. How long have you held this position?

DAVID. I have been a nephew all my life, sir.

GRAY. Within the company, Mr Filde.

DAVID. My uncle took me as apprentice when I was twelve, after the death of my mother. I was promoted to partner this year and my designation added at the last printing. It is a great honour.

GRAY. Your father is not part of the firm?

DAVID. Sadly he passed away two days before my mother.

GRAY. You were fortunate to find a benefactor of good character.

DAVID. My uncle is the finest humanitarian, the ablest teacher and the kindest man. He has offered me the greatest of opportunities, as he did for my young sister.

GRAY. That may be, but he was not averse to passing my business to someone only recently advanced.

DAVID. He taught me most diligently.

GRAY. I expected him to show a more personal interest in the valuing of this collection. Your firm was only chosen because of the relationship he had developed with my father over many years.

DAVID. He talks of it often and was upset to learn of Lord Gray’s death. He sends his condolences.

GRAY. Please thank him for them.

DAVID. I will, my lord. In fact, he knew this estate would be of particular interest to me.

GRAY. Oh, and why is that?

DAVID. For a number of reasons. Also, my uncle rarely travels outside London now. The bookshop takes up more hours than he likes. Although, he still attends the London sales and his opinion is sought on all matters by the trade.

GRAY. Even so…

DAVID. When he was young he despatched a special edition of Dante’s Inferno to Napoleon himself when Bonaparte was in exile. The transaction required extreme secrecy, for fear of spies using it to contact the Emperor with plans of espionage.

GRAY. I had no idea the book trade was so bracing.

DAVID. It is rarely as academic as one thinks. I’m making notes for a story about my own adventures.

GRAY. It would be extremely vulgar if any of my affairs were made public, or my privacy invaded in any way.

DAVID. I certainly wouldn’t…

GRAY. Nor should fanciful notions impede your judgement.

DAVID. I can assure you, my lord, they won’t.

GRAY. Very well. Now, may I offer you a glass of port wine?

DAVID. You are most kind.

GRAY. In the absence of a fire it may provide some inner warmth.

DAVID. Indeed, sir.

GRAY picks up the lamp.

GRAY. Light a lamp. Don’t stay in the dark in here.

GRAY exits; as his light disappears down the corridor DAVID is plunged into darkness.

The wind builds and a sharp scratching comes from the window. Moonlight filters in to reveal a branch scraping the glass.

DAVID lights a lamp and looks about. He takes a book from a shelf beside the fireplace, looks at it and replaces it. As he is moving his hand over other books one shoots out with a n...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Production Notes
• Original Production
• Characters
• The Haunting
• About the Authors
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information