Echo's End

A Wiltshire Love Story

Barney Norris

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN:
  9781786821195
• Edition: 1
• eBook ISBN:
  9781786821201
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

Wiltshire. 1915.

As the shadow of war falls over the Wiltshire landscape, a young couple finds itself caught up in the turmoil of troubled times. For generations, John and Anna's families have made a living by working the land. Growing up in back-to-back cottages, everyone expects them to marry. Now, however, with nearly half a million young soldiers pouring into the country, the world seems so much bigger than they had ever imagined and the future feels far from certain.

Critics Circle and Off West End Award-winning playwright and novelist Barney Norris has been heralded as 'one of our most exciting young writers' (Times), 'a rare and precious talent' (Evening Standard) 'a writer of grace and luminosity' (The Stage) who is 'fast turning into the quiet voice of Britain' (British Theatre Guide).

Act One

1

A stretch of grass in front of the cottages where the two families live. The remnants of a meal are on the stage. JASPER stands before ARNOLD, MARGARET, ANNA and JOHN, and sings the first verse of ‘Banks Of Sweet Primroses’ while MARGARET tops up everyone’s cups from a beaker of cider. Then ARNOLD takes up the second verse. MARGARET takes the third. ANNA takes the fourth, handing her food bowl back to MARGARET while she sings. MARGARET piles it up with her own, preparing to take things back inside. The others hand their bowls back too, over the verse. JOHN takes the fifth verse and when the song ends, the group burst into applause. As the scene plays out, when people empty their cups, they reach for the beaker and top up.

JASPER: Bravo!

MARGARET: Good song that.

ARNOLD: Your boy sings well dun he?

MARGARET: So does your daughter.

ANNA: We’re right here, you know.

ARNOLD: And we’re glad that you are. (He turns to JASPER.) You can still sing, just about, Jasper.

JASPER: Only just, mind.

ARNOLD: Yeah, that’s all I’d say for you.

ANNA: Dad.

ARNOLD: Even a croak’s still a fair sound to get from an old pair of bellows in their seventy-first year.

JASPER: Of course, I might be well into that already.

ARNOLD: What?

JASPER: Well I don’t really know when my birthday is.

MARGARET: You’re joking.

JASPER: I’ve never known, my mother never told me.

ARNOLD: And he don’t know who his father is to ask.

MARGARET: Arnold! Are you serious? We’ve always celebrated today.

JASPER: I know, I’ve always wondered why.

MARGARET: You must have told us once this was the day though.

JASPER: I think I thought this was as good a day as any, midsummer’s evening, the light lingers late. And it’s usually warmer, so you can stay outside.

ARNOLD: What are you to do with midsummer though, man? You’ve a face like a field in December.

JASPER: I am life itself, my friend, and don’t you forget it.

JOHN: I don’t understand how you can’t know your birthday.

MARGARET: Why haven’t you told us before?

JASPER: You never asked.

ANNA: Then why tell us now?

JASPER: I don’t know. I suppose I thought of it.

ARNOLD: You’re making it up.

JOHN: He probably is.

JASPER: I hope no wolves return to England in my lifetime, for no one shall believe me if I see them bearing down.

ARNOLD: Indeed not.

MARGARET: Do you even know your proper age?

JASPER: What I know is that I’ve lived long, and been lucky. I’ve seen two generations of my people pass through, as the old book said, they flew like sparrows through the hall for a moment and then out again. I have been blessed to know many more good people than I might have done, had I not lived so long. But I’ve never known such good people as you who’re round me now.

MARGARET: We’re blessed ourselves to have you here, I’m sure.

ARNOLD: Getting under our feet.

JASPER: Being the age I am, I can’t make out the din of the war as some others seem to. I’d like to listen closer, but I’ve heard the tune before, and other things seem more pressing somehow when you know you’ve had more days already than you’ll have days to come. Some things fade to distant drumming, that might have mattered once. But I hear you lot very clear. I hear your friendship ringing round me, and it is my comfort, now I’ve had to give up on so much. It is my privilege to see out these years in this company.

MARGARET: And may there be many years to come.

ANNA: Hear, hear.

JOHN: This time a year ago the world was very different.

JASPER: Wasn’t it so?

ARNOLD: Weren’t even at war then, were we. They’d only just shot that bloke.

MARGARET: Don’t let’s talk about that now.

JASPER: All I’d like to say is that I’m glad. This is most probably not my birthday. And it’s only guesswork arrives me at my age. But I am glad of the excuse for a knees up with all of you.

MARGARET: Here’s to that.

JASPER: And now I think I ought to go to bed.

ARNOLD: Surely not.

JASPER: I’ve drunk quite enough for one evening. I shall keel over if I don’t take care.

ARNOLD: Perhaps that explains the sound of your singing.

JASPER: Who shall be the lucky one to help me hobble home?

ARNOLD: You can whistle if you think I’m walking all the way to your cottage, you can make it well enough.

JASPER: On account of that cold inhumanity I insist it should be you.

ARNOLD: You can make it on your own, man.

JASPER: No, come on. I’ll race you. And the last shall be first, as they learn us on Sundays. Come on, up with you, up on your...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Characters
• Act One
• Act Two
• By the Same Author