Alice Read online

ALICE takes her shot. It looks like it’ll go through the second hoop, but then the KNAVE puts down a bowl of bread and milk at the side of the hoop, and the hedgehog goes towards that instead.

  QUEEN: Well played!

  ALICE: That’s not fair.

  ALICE goes up to the official.

  He’s giving my hedgehog food – that’s cheating.

  The OFFICIAL looks towards the QUEEN. The QUEEN nods to the KING.

  KING: Play on!

  The KNAVE takes his shot and his hedgehog sails through the hoop.

  COMMENTATOR 1: Beautiful.

  COMMENTATOR 2: Liquid croquet.

  COMMENTATOR 1: That’s the kind of shot that gets me out of bed in the morning, I have to say.

  The QUEEN claps and nods to the KING again.

  KING: Free shot to the Knave!

  ALICE: What? No!

  COMMENTATOR 2: A well-deserved bonus now for the Knave –

  The KNAVE takes his free shot and his hedgehog goes towards the third hoop, but not through it.

  Not a bad shot, but not his best.

  QUEEN: Free shot to the Knave!

  COMMENTATOR 2: The queen herself calling for a free shot.

  COMMENTATOR 1: Royal prerogative in action there from croquet’s greatest fan.

  The KNAVE hits his hedgehog and it goes through the third hoop. The QUEEN and the crowd all cheer. ALICE looks on, helpless.

  QUEEN: Hurrah! Free shot!

  The KNAVE hits his hedgehog towards the fourth hoop.

  Free shot!

  COMMENTATOR 2: And another free shot...

  The QUEEN calls for as many free shots as it takes for the KNAVE to get his hedgehog through the fourth hoop.

  The KNAVE pants, showing some fatigue.

  COMMENTATOR 1: A brilliant run for the Knave, bringing him tantalisingly close to the winner’s post.

  KING: Time Out!

  COMMENTATOR 1: The king calling time out now, giving the players a well-earned rest.

  The KNAVE goes to sit in a chair and is surrounded by attendants who mop his brow, feed him drinks and generally gee him up.

  COMMENTATOR 2: While we’re waiting for play to resume, why don’t we read out a few of your birthday messages?

  COMMENTATOR 1: Yes, I’ve a card here saying happy birthday Betsy from all your friends in Wonderland Border Control...

  ALICE: This is stupid – I might as well give up.

  HEDGEHOG: I’m sorry, I’m a sucker for a bit of bread and milk.

  ALICE: If he’s going to play like that, cheating all the time. I can’t beat it. And anyway, everyone wants him to win.

  FLAMINGO: No one beats the Knave of Hearts.

  ALICE: Yeah, I can see why. No one gets a fair run.

  COMMENTATOR 1: And here’s another of your messages, though I’m not sure I quite understand this one.

  COMMENTATOR 2: What does it say?

  COMMENTATOR 1: ‘Alice. Alice. Alice. Has anyone seen Alice. I can’t find Alice. I’ve looked everywhere. D’you think she’s run off somewhere? Alice. Alice.’

  COMMENTATOR 2: Seems to be for someone called Alice.

  ALICE: I’m Alice, that’s me.

  COMMENTATOR 1: Sure it makes perfect sense to someone out there.

  FLAMINGO: Who was it from?

  HEDGEHOG: Sounded a bit worried.

  ALICE: My dad – Dad? Mum? I’m here – I’m trying to get back.

  If they can send a message, they must be close, mustn’t they? I must be near the end.

  OK, guys. Let’s win this so I can get home.

  FLAMINGO: Win this? How can we win this? No-one beats the –

  ALICE: Yeah, you said.

  But wouldn’t it be amazing if we did beat him? Why should he get away with it, playing like that? He smacked that poor flamingo’s head really hard.

  FLAMINGO: That was my cousin Harold.

  ALICE: Let’s do it for Harold.

  HEDGEHOG: But how can we do it?

  ALICE: I don’t know, but why don’t we – Give it our best shot. You just have to do the best you can with what you’ve got, don’t you?

  FLAMINGO: My best shot...

  ALICE: Literally your best shot. D’you want to be the kind of flamingo that just gives in when things get difficult?

  FLAMINGO: No. No, right, come on then. For Harold.

  ALICE: Roger? Who’s to say you can’t fly if you want to?

  HEDGEHOG: Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m a champion in the making. Let’s play the game of our lives.

  ALICE: This is so massively cheesy it’s got to work.

  KING: Play on!

  COMMENTATOR 1: The King calling for the game to be resumed there.

  COMMENTATOR 2: If you’ve just joined us, the Knave looks to be only one shot away from a resounding victory.

  COMMENTATOR 1: One final consolation shot for the challenger first.

  COMMENTATOR 2: And there she is, flamingo at the ready – what’s that expression on her face, would you say?

  COMMENTATOR 1: If I didn’t know better I’d say it was –

  COMMENTATOR 2: Yes?

  COMMENTATOR 1: I’d say it was determination.

  ALICE steels herself and takes the shot.

  By sheer force of will, Roger the Hedgehog goes through the third hoop, through the fourth then turns a corner to hit the winners post. The crowd gasp in amazement.

  COMMENTATOR 2: That’s it! That’s it! The challenger has won the match!

  COMMENTATOR 1: The Knave of Hearts and the laws of physics taking an absolute pasting there. What a game.

  COMMENTATOR 2: Who’d have thought at the beginning of today that by the end of today the world would look as very different as it looks now at the end of today.

  COMMENTATOR 1: Yes indeed. A new All-Wonderland Croquet champion.

  COMMENTATOR 2: Won it fair and square.

  COMMENTATOR 1: And doesn’t the Knave of Hearts look cross about it.

  The KNAVE storms off in a huff.

  COMMENTATOR 2: Yes, he’ll be kicking himself tonight. The challenger now approaching the podium to receive her medal from her majesty the queen.

  COMMENTATOR 1: A great honour for any citizen of Wonderland.

  COMMENTATOR 2: Seconds away from coming face to face with her majesty.

  ALICE: Hello.

  QUEEN: I beg your pardon.

  ALICE: Hi. I mean, here I am, so –

  QUEEN: Are you addressing me?

  ALICE: Mission accomplished, here I am. Mum.

  QUEEN: Mum?

  ALICE: OK, no, sorry – just you look a lot like my mum, so –

  WHITE RABBIT: The medal, your majesty.

  The WHITE RABBIT hands the queen the gold winner’s medal.

  ALICE: Hi.

  WHITE RABBIT: Hello?

  The OFFICIAL comes over to the WHITE RABBIT and whispers in his ear.

  One moment.

  The WHITE RABBIT steps away to speak to the official in private. The QUEEN hangs the medal around ALICE’s neck.

  QUEEN: I wanted the knave to win. He’s my favourite.

  ALICE: Yeah, I’m sorry. But I needed to speak to you. And the Duchess sort of said that the only way I could do that was to play croquet and get presented to you at the end.

  QUEEN: The Duchess said this? The Duchess?

  ALICE: I’ve done everything I was supposed to do, yeah? So now I’m ready to go back, because I think my dad is kind of worried about where I am.

  QUEEN: The Duchess!

  ALICE: Look, I’m happy to hand the medal back and give it to the Knave if you want to for some kind of technicality because I want to go home really, more than I wanted to win at the croquet.

  QUEEN: Give it to me, then.

  ALICE takes the medal off her neck and hands it back to the QUEEN.

  The WHITE RABBIT returns and goes close to the queen.

  WHITE RABBIT: Your majesty –

  He whispers in her ear. The QUEEN suddenly shrieks.

  QUEEN: S
tolen! My tarts? Who stole my tarts?

  That’s it – No more croquet! Whoever stole the tarts will lose his head!

  The whole crowd quakes with fear.

  Out of my way!

  The QUEEN goes to leave. As she is doing so, the DUCHESS steps into her path.

  DUCHESS: Your majesty – may I say how delightful it is to me to be back at court and back in your –

  QUEEN: Get out of my way, idiot!

  DUCHESS: But your majesty – You’re my best friend!

  The QUEEN leaves, with the DUCHESS pursuing her.

  ALICE: No – wait – please – I need to speak to you –

  The WONDERLANDERS hurriedly pack away the croquet ground – rolling the lawn up and carrying it off, wheeling out the QUEEN’s podium etc... ALICE tries to get to the QUEEN, but is thwarted every time by people standing in front of her.

  No – please – please come back –

  ALICE is left alone as everything and everyone gets packed away.

  The big door clanks shut behind her and ALICE shouts with frustration.

  No no NO!

  I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do.

  I mean what else do you bloody want me to do?

  I’ve played the stupid game, I’ve done the Heart thing – it’s not a place, I’ve tried that, and it’s not a person I mean I’m running out of options here, I’m struggling for any kind of idea at all. I’ve tried to talk to all these mental people but d’you know what? They’re all mental! Nobody’s given me anything that’s even remotely useful – what, a stupid piece-of-nonsense poem and I’m supposed to go ‘oh yeah, eureka, I know exactly what to do now’.

  ALICE hears a voice from another world.

  MUM: Has anyone seen Alice?

  ALICE: Mum?

  DAD: We can’t find her anywhere.

  ALICE: I’m here!

  DAD: Have you checked the attic?

  ALICE: The attic’s Joe’s room, I can’t go in there.

  MUM: I don’t know, I can’t go in there.

  DAD: She’s probably just hiding somewhere.

  MUM: Maybe she’s gone out.

  DAD: She’s not been out in two weeks.

  ALICE: Mummy? Can you come and get me? I’ve got nothing left.

  I don’t know how to get home, mum. I’ve got nothing.

  ALICE feels in her pockets and pulls out Jabberwocky.

  I mean yeah, I’ve got this stupid poem, but –

  She looks at the poem.

  This is literally the last thing I’ve got.

  Twas brillig and the – What, is this code, or an anagram, or –

  Brillig. I mean what does brillig mean? I’m stuck on the second word. What’s the point in even trying?

  ALICE screws up the piece of paper and sits on the floor, her head in her hands.

  A voice calls from the cupboard.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Hey you! You at the back!

  ALICE: What?

  ALICE looks up, hastily wiping her eyes and stuffing the piece of paper back into her pocket.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY appears out of the cupboard, sitting at a very high school desk.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: What are you doing there?

  ALICE: Me? Nothing. I’m not doing anything.

  ALICE stands up and turns to face him.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: That’s hardly true, is it? You’re standing, aren’t you? You’re looking. You’re breathing. I’d say you were doing rather a lot.

  ALICE doesn’t say anything.

  Don’t answer back! It’s your own time you’re wasting, you know.

  How old did you say you were?

  ALICE: I’m twelve.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Wrong! You never said anything of the sort.

  ALICE: What?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Try to stay awake.

  ALICE: I thought you meant ‘how old are you’?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: If I’d meant that, I’d have said it, wouldn’t I?

  Twelve, you say.

  ALICE: Twelve and three weeks.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: An uncomfortable sort of age. If you’d asked my advice, I’d have said ‘leave off at eleven’, but it’s too late now.

  ALICE: What d’you mean, ‘leave off’?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Put up your hand if you want to say something.

  ALICE puts her hand up.

  ALICE: What d’you mean, ‘leave off’?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Stop. Stop growing.

  ALICE: You can’t stop growing.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: ‘One’ can’t stop growing. Speak properly.

  ALICE: OK, one can’t stop growing.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: One can’t, but two can. With proper assistance you might have left off at eleven.

  ALICE turns away.

  It’s all a choice, you know. Young people today – you’re all about feelings – oh dear poor me, I’ve got a terrible life I’m very upset. Try being stuck up here talking to reprobates like you, then you’d know what upset is!

  ALICE: (Under her breath.) Get down then.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: I beg your pardon?

  ALICE: Nothing.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: WHAT DID YOU SAY?

  ALICE: I said if you don’t like it, why don’t you get down?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: If you don’t like it, why don’t you buck your ideas up? Hmm? What have you got to say to that, Little Miss Backchat?

  ALICE: I don’t know what you mean by ‘buck your ideas up’.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Flummery – pure flummery.

  ALICE shakes her head, confused.

  What?

  ALICE: I don’t know what ‘flummery’ is.

  HUMPTY’s voice rises to a shriek as he speaks.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Flummery is that way you have of standing there with your nose in the air as if you thought the world owed you something, as if it was your particular entitlement to live a life free from suffering, and why can’t things just be nice and why doesn’t anyone come and rescue me when they know perfectly well I’m stuck here and can’t get down!

  ALICE: But that’s a huge amount of things for one word to mean, that’s too much.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: When I say a word it means exactly what I choose it to mean. I am very very good with words. There isn’t a word in the world that I don’t know the meaning of.

  ALICE realises something.

  ALICE: Oh. You’re a word person!

  She reaches into her pocket and pulls out Jabberwocky again.

  So maybe you could interpret this –

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: THE BELL IS FOR ME NOT FOR YOU!

  ALICE: What bell?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: You – you’re in detention. Stay behind.

  ALICE: Um. Right, OK. OK, can I ask you about these words I don’t understand –

  HUMPTY switches into a much more understanding tone.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Now, what’s going on here, eh? You can talk to me, you know. I’m not an ogre.

  ALICE: No, of course. Thank you. I wanted to ask you –

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Anything you’d like to tell me about? Someone bullying you?

  It’s OK to tell someone, you know – if you tell someone we can do something about it. Everything alright at home?

  ALICE: What?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: I’m just wondering what’s making you behave like this. What d’you think the King would say if he knew?

  ALICE: The King?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: I’m very good friends with the King. Do you know he told me if I was ever in trouble he’d send all of his horses and all of his men?

  ALICE: Oh. Right. I’m supposed to know who you are.

  I mean gosh, lucky me – to be standing talking to the real Humpty Dumpty.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Oh you knew who I was, did you, when you saw me?

  ALICE: You’re famous. I’m sorry, I didn’t like to say at first. I was a bit shy. Not everybody gets to have a poem explained to them by the real –

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Yes, I can see it would be probably the most exciting thing that ever
happened to you.

  ALICE: The King must be very honoured to know someone as clever as you. I bet he comes and talks to you all the time.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Um, yes, well. He’s a very busy man.

  But he did give me this.

  He shows ALICE his special blackboard pointer.

  He gave it to me for an unbirthday present.

  ALICE: Um, what’s an unbirthday present?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: An unbirthday present is a present given when it’s not your birthday. Unbirthdays are much better than birthdays. Do you know why?

  ALICE: Um, no.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: How many days are there in a year?

  ALICE: Um. Three hundred and sixty five. And a quarter.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: And how many birthdays do you have in a year?

  ALICE: One.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: So if you take one from three hundred and sixty five,

  ALICE: And a quarter.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Don’t get clever. If you take one from three hundred and sixty five and a quarter, what do you get?

  ALICE: Three hundred and sixty four. And a quarter.

  HUMPTY frowns.

  Shall I write it down and hand it in?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: You know, with the amount of paperwork I have to do it’s a wonder I have time to teach anything at all.

  ALICE: OK, can you tell me what this poem means?

  She takes Jabberwocky from her pocket.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Ah. Poetry. My special pigeon.

  Read me the first verse.

  ALICE: OK.

  (Reads.)

  ‘Twas Brillig and the slithy toves

  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

  All mimsy were the borogoves,

  And the mome raths outgrabe...

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: What words in particular are troubling you?

  ALICE: Most of them. I don’t know what brillig means.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Brillig is four o’clock in the afternoon – when you begin broiling things for supper.

  ALICE: OK. That doesn’t make very much sense, but –

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Carry on.

  ALICE: Slithy?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Slithy. That means lithe and slimy. What we call a portmanteau word – two words in one, two meanings packed in the same suitcase.

  ALICE: And what are toves?

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Toves are a little like badgers, something like lizards and quite a lot like corkscrews.

  ALICE: OK, gyre and gimble.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: Gyre is to go round and round like a gyroscope, gimble is to make holes like a gimlet.

  ALICE: That doesn’t make sense.

  HUMPTY DUMPTY: It’s not a very good poem.