by Ella Hickson
Beat.
MR DARLING. It’s my job, Mary – we need my job, this house needs my job and these parties are part of that job.
MRS DARLING. I can’t.
MR DARLING. Mary? It’s been a year. How long are we going to /
MRS DARLING. / ‘We’? You seem to be perfectly fine.
MR DARLING. I’m just trying to /
MRS DARLING. / I’m going to say goodnight to my children.
MR DARLING exits. MRS DARLING enters the nursery. WENDY leaps up to her feet and leans out of the window.
WENDY. There! There, look! I knew it – look!
MRS DARLING. Wendy, come away from that window!
WENDY. There, Mother. I swear – I /
MRS DARLING. / Close it. I won’t have you getting a chill.
WENDY. I just saw him, I promise – he was flying.
MRS DARLING comes over and closes the window and marches WENDY into her bed.
MRS DARLING. Lights out, Michael. John, you too, tuck in.
MICHAEL re-enters, wearing a towel on his head. He waters the plant by his bed, strokes it goodnight and climbs under the covers. MR DARLING enters, trying to do up his tie and failing.
MR DARLING. Mary, we need to go.
MRS DARLING. I haven’t given their children their medicine.
MR DARLING. They’re not unwell.
WENDY. I can do the medicine.
MR DARLING. Michael, take that off your head at once.
MICHAEL. But I’m a mermaid.
MR DARLING. Off.
WENDY. Or – or – what if Father gives us our medicine and then, Mother, you can go and get ready?
MRS DARLING looks at her daughter – who has such good will in her face.
MRS DARLING. What a good idea. (Aside to MR DARLING as she goes.) You’d have a better chance of tying that if you could see straight, George.
MRS DARLING exits. MICHAEL stands.
MICHAEL. I’m just saying now, before there’s any further talk about it; I won’t be taking my medicine.
MR DARLING. Wendy, show Michael.
WENDY. Mm, it’s yummy. Aghhhuuu. Snotfrogs – sorry.
MICHAEL. See.
MR DARLING. Be a man, Michael.
WENDY. You should show Michael how brave you are in taking yours.
WENDY reaches into her father’s inside pocket and pulls out a hip flask.
MR DARLING. No, no – it’s different to your medicine. It’s different!
MICHAEL. Father’s a cowardy custard.
JOHN. Father!
MR DARLING. Your mother will be so upset if you don’t take yours, please, Michael.
MICHAEL. Only if you take yours.
MR DARLING. I can’t, I /
WENDY. / One – two – three /
MR DARLING. / Okay, look – just quickly – there.
MRS DARLING enters, MR DARLING swigs.
MRS DARLING. George, what are you doing?
MR DARLING. No no no no.
WENDY. It’s his medicine; he was showing us how brave he is.
MRS DARLING. Brave? He’s being the biggest coward of all.
MRS DARLING strides past MR DARLING, snubbing him, and heads to tuck MICHAEL in.
MICHAEL. Mother – I’m so glad of you. Will you kiss Planty too?
MRS DARLING. Of course.
MRS DARLING kisses the plant and goes over to JOHN.
Goodnight, my little soldier.
JOHN ‘yucks’ and rolls over.
MR DARLING. Mary, we need to go.
MRS DARLING kisses WENDY on the head.
WENDY. There is a boy – Mother – at the window – I promise, I /
MRS DARLING. / No more of these stories, do you hear?
WENDY nods.
Sleep tight, my darling girl.
MR DARLING. Mary?
MRS DARLING looks at her husband a moment. She heads upstage to check the window is shut.
Goodnight, children.
WENDY. Father?
MR DARLING. Yes?
WENDY stands on the end of her bed so that she is face to face with her father. She plays with his face, smooths his moustache.
WENDY. I don’t know if this thing is a very good idea. I miss your top lip.
MR DARLING. But it’s all the rage.
WENDY does up her father’s bow tie for him.
WENDY. Do you think you and Mother will be friends again?
Pause. MR DARLING can’t find the words.
There we go, all done.
MR DARLING. Thank you.
WENDY kisses her father on the end of his nose. MRS DARLING catches sight.
WENDY. I don’t think you’re a coward – I think you’re very brave.
MR DARLING. Bedtime.
MR DARLING tucks WENDY in. MRS DARLING goes to exit past MR DARLING.
MRS DARLING. I can’t go – not tonight, I /
MR DARLING. / Mary, please – we need to have some fun.
MRS DARLING. I don’t feel very fun, George. What I need is purpose. If I sit here I can do nothing but think of him.
MR DARLING. There’s a stack of invitations downstairs; Mrs Blunden, Miss Bedford, Miss Seddon – a christening, a ball, two weddings – you’re not short of company.
MRS DARLING. I can’t have one more conversation about the colour of a lampshade, or the price of baby’s bonnet, or the seemingly endless details of Mr Bennett’s disobedient digestive tract.
Beat.
MR DARLING. I can see that you’re overtired; perhaps you should have a lie-down.
MRS DARLING. Bog off, George.
MRS DARLING exits. MR DARLING stands; he bows his head for a moment, then follows after.
Scene Four
In the nursery, WENDY, who has been listening to her parents at the door, takes the nightlight and sets it on the ground.
WENDY (half-whisper, half-prayer). Tom – I – please, please, if it is you out there – tell me how to fix things because I’m trying but it’s not working. John is so angry he’s broken three trains and Michael gets so nervous that he can’t get his words out at school and Mother and Father don’t laugh, at all any more – and I just think if you could come back – just for a little while then –
The window flies open, the gust of wind blows WENDY’s candle out. There is a storm brewing, lightning and thunder, the windows clatter and then – in a gust – in tumbles PETER PAN. It is not a glamorous entrance, he trips, he stumbles and he lands in a heap behind one of the beds. Behind him, a ball of light.
(Dashing over.) Tom! Tom?
PETER (still concealed). Ow – my bum.
PETER pops his head up from the bed. WENDY and PETER lock eyes for the first time.
(Suddenly love-struck.) Hello. Hi.
WENDY. You’re not Tom.
PETER. Bump.
WENDY. What?
PETER. Ow – I bump-ed – nothing to do with my –
WENDY. Bum.
PETER. No.
Suddenly there is a jangling of bells and a bright light zooms past PETER. He catches it and throws it into a jug, trapping it – the jug shakes violently. WENDY grabs a teddy bear and wields it at PETER and the jug as if it’s a weapon.
WENDY. Okay, all right – get back – what is that? Who are you?
PETER removes a large dagger from his boot and wields it at WENDY.
Oh – okay, that’s fine.
WENDY drops the bear. PETER picks up the bear and offers it to WENDY, gently – who takes it hesitantly and holds it to her.
Thanks.
WENDY goes to touch PETER to see if he is real, but PETER pulls back.
PETER. You’ve got a lovely biscuit face. What? I’m going to go now.
PETER turns to go – embarrassed.
WENDY. No, wait – I’m Wendy – Wendy Moira Angela Darling.
WENDY steps towards PETER and PETER steps back.
PETER. Hello, Wendy.
WENDY. And you are?
WENDY steps forward for her hand to be shaken – PET
ER steps back.
PETER. No one touches me, not ever.
WENDY. Why? Are you afraid of girls?
PETER. No. I’m not afraid of anything.
He steps forward boldly. WENDY steps back.
Are you afraid of boys?
WENDY. No – no, not normally – but you –
PETER. Are particularly terrifying?
WENDY. No.
PETER. Very savage?
WENDY. No.
PETER. Incredibly brave?
WENDY. You’ve broken into my bedroom in the middle of the night. It’s creepy.
PETER. I didn’t break in – I fell.
WENDY. What were you doing outside?
PETER. Looking.
WENDY. Still creepy. Creepier – in fact.
PETER. I was looking for my shadow. It’s come unstuck and I think he’s in here.
WENDY. Why would it be in here if you haven’t been in here?
PETER. You ask too many questions.
WENDY. You can’t leave your shadow – shadows stay stuck.
PETER. Only if you’re boring.
WENDY. I am not boring!
PETER. If you were a Lost Boy then you’d know about shadows /
WENDY. / A what?
Beat. PETER realises he’s let something slip – he panics. The jug on the side starts to shake violently. Out of the jug explodes a bright white light – PETER catches it in his hands as it zooms across the room and successfully stuffs it into a toy box, which he then sits on. It rattles.
Is that a lost boy?
PETER. No.
WENDY. Is it a shadow?
PETER. No.
WENDY. Then what is it?
PETER. A shadow is a good-for-nothing, disloyal, un-sticky, pain in the /
WENDY. / But you said lost boy? How do you know that we lost a boy?
PETER. I really do need to go now.
WENDY. Look – you can’t just bowl in here and /
PETER’s shadow tries to creep out from under one of the beds. PETER sees it and leaps over to it – catches it.
PETER. / Ha! Got you!
WENDY. How is that possible? He’s completely separate and still all shadowy – that’s /
PETER. / Pretty impressive, right?
WENDY (faux-nonchalant). Well, I don’t know, not really – we’ve all got shadows after all.
PETER. Yeah – but how many have you got?
WENDY. One, obviously.
PETER plays his harmonica. In through the window bowls a very cool team of SHADOWS.
WHOA!
PETER. Thanks.
WENDY. Who – what – are you?
The SHADOWS all point to themselves.
PETER. Me? Or?
WENDY. You! (Welsh accent.) You with the lovely – funny voice. [The Welsh accent refers to the 2015 production, future productions can decide on something distinctive and loveable about your particular Peter Pan.]
The SHADOWS disappear behind him.
Wait – where did they – they’ve gone?
PETER (suddenly soaring up – up into the sky, it’s magic). I’m Pan. Pirate-killer, prince of the seas, demon of the skies – the most savage, the incredible, unbeatable and blinking majestical – (Lands with suave charm.) Peter Pan!
WENDY looks up at him – he smiles a cheeky smile.
WENDY. Oh.
PETER. What do you mean, oh?
WENDY. Nothing – I just – I thought the – the boy who’s been at the window… I thought it was someone else.
PETER. Who?
WENDY. No one, it doesn’t matter, it was stupid of me.
PETER clambers down. WENDY sits sadly on the side of the bed. PETER comes over.
PETER. It looks like your face might rain. Please don’t rain, biscuit face, you’ll go all soggy.
WENDY looks up into PETER’s face, for a moment it might be a kiss.
WENDY. I’m going to scream now, if that’s all right?
PETER. Really?
WENDY. You said that you were a savage killer or something so – I should probably /
PETER. / Six out of seven dwarves aren’t happy.
WENDY. What?
PETER. I was trying to make you laugh.
WENDY. Still going to scream.
WENDY takes a deep breath in. PETER doesn’t know what to do – he’s all at a loss, arms flailing – trying to sort of patch WENDY but unsure how. WENDY looks at him struggling and smiles softly. She laughs a little.
You all right?
PETER. Yeah. Fine.
PETER turns his attempts to stop her into a nonchalant little dance.
WENDY. What are you doing?
PETER. Um… I was um trying to – make it better. I think.
PETER tries to lean against something and stumbles. WENDY laughs.
WENDY. Oop. ‘The most savage’?
PETER. I tripped.
WENDY. Over your shadow?
PETER’s SHADOW laughs with WENDY.
PETER. On my shoelace.
WENDY. You’re not wearing any shoes.
PETER. None of the Lost Boys wear /
WENDY. / Lost boys. There, again – lost boys, how do you – you know where they are, don’t you?
PETER. Nope.
WENDY. Peter! Peter, tell me!
PETER. I – I can’t – I’m sorry – I –
PETER blows and the window opens. He dodges past WENDY.
WENDY. I’ll give you a kiss.
PETER (stops – turning suddenly). A kiss?
WENDY. If you’re going to be such a boy about it.
PETER. A kiss? Really?
WENDY. Yes but only because you are quite…
PETER. Quite what?
WENDY. Do you want one or not?
PETER. Yes. Okay. Right.
PETER sticks out his tongue.
WENDY. Oh?
PETER puts out his hand. The SHADOWS look away, embarrassed.
Oh.
WENDY, confused, stares at the hand. WENDY grabs a thimble from her dress pocket and puts it in PETER’s hand.
PETER. Now I must give you a kiss.
WENDY. That wasn’t the deal.
PETER picks up a button off the side – the same button that WENDY was meant to sew onto TOM’s jumper.
Tom’s button? (Looks at it a moment, rather sadly.) Sorry, no – a kiss. Right, well, there we are then. Now – tell me where I can find lost boys?
PETER. I gave you a kiss. I – gave you – a girl – a kiss – and it went fine. Right? You thought it was okay? I mean I don’t – care – obviously – but you know, on average, you’d say – it went all right, right?
WENDY. I’ll take it back if you don’t tell me.
PETER. Lost Boys live in Neverland.
PETER says it and claps his hand over his mouth. The toy box shakes violently and out screams a bright light and a wild jangling of bells. PETER catches the light and wrestles it into the wardrobe – he desperately tries to keep the wardrobe shut behind him but he can’t, the jangling of bells gets louder and louder. JOHN sits up in bed.
JOHN. Look here – I don’t like being woken up in the middle of the night by /
WENDY. / Peter, what is in there?
PETER. When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand tiny pieces and they all went skipping about and that was the beginning of –
Out of the wardrobe explodes a human-size fairy. TINK is a tubby little cockney tinker – think Big Fat Gypsy Tink – her hair piled up on her head, large hooped earrings and a dress made out of a skeleton leaf, frayed at the edges and tight round the bust, with perhaps a whisper of an Adidas stripe in it.
– fairies.
WENDY. That’s one thousandth of a baby’s laugh?
JOHN. Jolly big baby.
TINK. Glass houses, love – I’m not the one in the nightdress kissing boys I never met before, now, am I?
JOHN. Kissing? What? Where? (Pointing at PETER.) No?
PET
ER. This is Tink; she gets big when she’s full of feeling. Tink, this is Wendy – and /
JOHN (still very suspicious). / John. Her bigg-est brother.
TINK. Enchanted. (Aside to PETER.) Peter, we need to leave immediately.
WENDY. I quite agree – John – pack your things.
JOHN (standing up on his bed). Look here, I don’t know who you two think you are or what you’re doing in my bedroom ‘talking’ to my sister, but unless you leave in two seconds, I’ll –
JOHN draws his toy sword on PETER. PETER plays something sultry on his harmonica – he somersaults majestically and lands on the end of JOHN’s bed and crows.
WENDY (dreamily, enchanted). John, this is Peter Pan.
JOHN. I don’t like him.
WENDY. He’s going to take us to Neverland and we’re going to find Tom. Come on, Michael – wake up!
TINK. Flaming Nora! No he is not!
MICHAEL (climbing out of bed, putting on his glasses and being very polite). Good evening, Flaming Nora, it is a pleasure to meet you. Your dress appears to be a leaf of the genus Quercus, would you mind awfully if I /
TINK. / Keep your genus and your Quercus to yourself, mate.
JOHN. Look, I’m not going on any more of Wendy’s ‘adventures’. I’ve taken all the crochet and cake-making and hair-brushing one brother can take, okay? So ‘Neverland’ with its pretty pink ponies can do one – as can you, young man.
PETER. Ponies? No. Mermaids – yeah.
MICHAEL. Mermaids! Mermaaaaids!
PETER. Pirates and Never Wolves and fairy orgies and /
JOHN. / Pirates?
PETER. Most evil pirate in the world lives on Neverland. (Something comes over PETER, a little like a trance.) Black heart, red eyes, foulest barnacled buccaneer you’ve ever smelt. Picks the flesh of children out from between his teeth with his… hook.
JOHN. H-h-hook? You know Captain Hook?
MICHAEL. You’ve seen him?
PETER. Who do you think sliced off his hand and fed it to the crocodile?
MICHAEL. Nooooo?
JOHN. For God’s sake, Wendy, stop faffing; Peter’s waiting. She’s so slow, Peter, it’s a nightmare.
TINK. Peter, a word.
WENDY. There’s no time for chatting, we have to leave!
TINK. Keep ya beak out, Mandy.
WENDY. It’s Wendy and I thought, ‘no one could touch him – not ever’?
TINK. I’m a fairy – it’s different. Peter – if she tells her family – they’ll put me in a jar or a box or worse – stick a tree up my /
PETER. / Tink! She won’t be able to tell them because she’ll be in Neverland.
