Alice (7 page)

ALICE:
I don’t know, I lost count.

HARE:
She can’t do Addition.

HATTER:
Can you do Subtraction? Take nine from eight.

ALICE:
Minus one!

HATTER:
Yours is one what?

HARE:
She can’t do Substraction.

HATTER:
Can you do Division? Divide a loaf by a knife – what’s the answer to
that
?

ALICE:
Um,

HATTER:
Bread-and-butter, of course.

HARE:
She can’t do sums a bit.

HATTER:
Do you know your ABC?

ALICE:
Yeah, I’m not a baby.

HARE:
I can read words of one letter. It’s true, I can.

HATTER:
Do you know languages? What’s the French for ‘ecky thump’?

ALICE:
Ecky thump isn’t even proper English. I don’t know what it means.

The
HATTER
moves away from
ALICE
, looking at her carefully
.

HATTER:
The queen’s spy would know what it means.

HARE:
Meaning?

HATTER:
She’s quite safe.

The
HATTER
looks at his watch
.

Look at that – six o’clock. Time for tea.

The
HATTER
and the
HARE
move back towards the table
.

Cup of tea, old chap?

ALICE:
Am I right, though – is this the middle?

HARE:
Tis the place where all roads meet. Have some wine, dear boy.

ALICE:
Um. Thank you.

ALICE
comes closer, looks at the table
.

There isn’t any wine.

HARE:
More’s the pity.

ALICE:
If there isn’t a door, is there a chute or something, maybe –

Like a magic portal or –

HATTER:
Have some more tea, dear boy.

ALICE:
I haven’t had any yet. So I can’t have
more
, can I?

HATTER:
You can’t have
less
, it’s very easy to have
more
than none.

ALICE:
If I’m in the right place, then what do I do? Make a wish and touch the teapot?

HATTER:
Talks to himself – mad, you see.

ALICE:
I’m actually a girl, by the way.

HATTER:
You see what I mean?

ALICE:
Maybe I just sit and wait for a bit and then something turns into a door or –

ALICE
sits down at the table. The
HARE
pulls a cup out of a large jelly and pours a cup of tea for
ALICE
.

HARE:
Nice cup of tea and no need to worry about anything.

ALICE:
Could I have a bit of bread and some jam?

HATTER:
Jam?

HARE:
Jam?

DORMOUSE:
A jar of jam.

HATTER:
There’s no jam here, dear boy.

HARE:
All jam property of the queen!

HATTER:
Anyone found with contraband jam will be beheaded!

HARE:
With his own teaspoon!

HATTER:
Have some bread and butter. WITHOUT jam.

HARE:
It’s Wonderloaf.

ALICE:
Is it all types of jam?

DORMOUSE:
Strawberry jam, apricot jam...

HATTER:
Are we sure she isn’t an emissary from the queen?

HARE:
A what?

DORMOUSE:
Blackcurrant jam...

HATTER:
A
spy
, remember?

DORMOUSE:
Gooseberry jam...

ALICE:
What about traffic jam?

HATTER:
See, this is a test.

DORMOUSE:
Rhubarb jam...

ALICE:
Or paper jam?

HARE:
Paper
jam?

ALICE:
You know: ‘Warning: Paper Jam”.

HARE:
We know of no such thing.

HATTER:
All jam property of the queen and that’s all there is to it.

DORMOUSE:
Damson, greengage...

ALICE:
Why does the queen need all the jam?

HATTER:
For the tarts, of course.

HARE:
Only the queen can make tarts.

HATTER:
By which we mean only the queen is
clever
enough to make tarts.

DORMOUSE:
Loganberry...

ALICE:
Jam tarts? Jam tarts are easy.

HATTER:
She’s luring us. This is a trap, don’t fall into it.

I was a hatter, you know. Oh yes. They came from miles around for my hats.

One blow from the queen’s stiletto and goodbye to all that.

DORMOUSE:
Ginger jam...

ALICE:
She kicked you?

HATTER:
She might as well have.

The
HATTER
shows
ALICE
his watch
.

DORMOUSE:
Victoria plum...

ALICE:
She stamped on your watch?

HATTER:
I made her
very
angry.

DORMOUSE:
Quince...

The
DORMOUSE
falls asleep
.

ALICE:
She doesn’t sound very nice, the queen.

The
HATTER
and
HARE
gasp at her outspokenness
.

When was this?

HATTER:
Last March – just before he went mad.

The
HATTER
shakes his pocket watch, looking at it
.

What day of the month is it?

ALICE:
The seventeenth.

HATTER:
Two weeks wrong. I told you butter wouldn’t suit the works.

ALICE:
You put
butter
in it?

HARE:
It was the best butter.

HATTER:
Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well. You shouldn’t have put it in with the bread knife.

Oh look – six o’clock: time for tea!

HARE:
Move round, move round!

ALICE:
Haven’t you just had your tea?

The
HATTER
shows her the watch
.

HATTER:
If it’s six o’clock, it’s tea time.

ALICE:
So this thing with the queen happened last March and you’ve been having tea ever since, you’ve been stuck.

HARE:
My head hurts.

ALICE:
You’ve probably had too much caffeine.

The
HATTER
gives the
HARE
his watch
.

HATTER:
Here –

The
HARE
holds the watch to his forehead
.

Time’s a great healer.

What say we change the subject? I vote the young chap tells us a story.

ALICE:
I’m actually a girl, I did say –

HARE:
I’d love a story.

ALICE:
I don’t know any.

HATTER:
Then the Dormouse shall.

ALICE:
Could really do with that magic portal right now...

HARE:
Wake up, Dormouse!

The
HATTER
pours some tea onto the
DORMOUSE
’s nose and he wakes up, spluttering
.

HATTER:
We demand a story!

HARE:
Oh please oh please.

DORMOUSE:
Alright, but you’ll definitely not like it.

The
DORMOUSE
readies himself to tell the story, clearing his throat etc.
ALICE
uses the moment to reach for a piece of bread
and butter
.

Once upon a time there was a...

The
DORMOUSE
nearly dozes off, then wakes up again with a start
.

Once upon a time there was a...

HATTER:
Spit it out quickly, before you fall asleep again, there’s a good chap.

DORMOUSE:
Once upon a time there was a little boy and his name was Joe –

ALICE
stops, with the piece of bread half way to her mouth
.

ALICE:
Joe?

DORMOUSE:
Joe.

ALICE:
My brother Joe?

Is this what I’m here for? Are you going to tell me something important about Joe?

DORMOUSE:
His name was Joe and he lived at the bottom of a well.

HARE:
Well well here’s a story, eh?

ALICE:
No, he lived in Broomhill, surely?

DORMOUSE:
He lived at the bottom of a well.

ALICE
puts the piece of bread and butter down
.

ALICE:
OK, is this some kind of code – like a whatsitcalled, like we did at school, um – If I solve the riddle, I get my door, yes?

HATTER:
What did he live on?

ALICE:
A metaphor.

DORMOUSE:
He lived on treacle.

HARE:
Metaphor. Met her for what?

ALICE:
Treacle?

DORMOUSE:
Treacle.

ALICE:
You can’t live on treacle, you’d be sick.

DORMOUSE:
So he was. Very sick.

ALICE:
Why was he at the bottom of a well?

I don’t know any wells. Unless you mean like Forge Dam, or Abbeydale Hamlet or something –

DORMOUSE:
It was a treacle-well.

HATTER:
No such thing!

ALICE:
OK, so is the well – is that a metaphor for the, um, car crash, or –

Not very
good
metaphor, is it? What does the treacle stand for? Is that me, or. Did Joe have a sister?

DORMOUSE:
If you can’t listen properly, you’d better finish the story for yourself.

ALICE:
No, please go on – please. Tell me about Joe.

DORMOUSE:
He was learning to draw, you know –

ALICE:
What did he draw?

The
DORMOUSE
pauses for a moment
.

DORMOUSE:
Treacle.

HATTER:
You can’t draw treacle.

DORMOUSE:
If you can draw water out of a water-well, you can draw treacle out of a treacle-well.

Stories are so tiring.

HATTER:
I want a clean cup! Move round, move round!

ALICE:
Wait – please finish the story.

HARE:
Move round, move round!

ALICE:
Please, this is really important.

ALICE
has to collude with the moving-round, but during the movement, the
DORMOUSE
falls asleep again.
ALICE
pokes him
.

Tell me what the treacle means, what the drawing means –

Hello? Hello? What about the story?

ALICE
shakes the
DORMOUSE
by the shoulder, trying to rouse him
.

He wakes up and looks at her
.

DORMOUSE:
I wasn’t asleep, you know.

ALICE:
Please tell the rest of the story – about Joe?

The
DORMOUSE
shakes his head confused
.

DORMOUSE:
Joe...

ALICE:
Who lived in a well?

DORMOUSE:
Joe...

ALICE:
A treacle well?

DORMOUSE:
Treacle, strawberry jam –

ALICE:
Right. This is just nonsense, isn’t it? You’re just spouting rubbish.

The
DORMOUSE
shakes his head, then falls asleep with the effort
.

DORMOUSE:
Twinkle twinkle twinkle twinkle...

HATTER:
Look at that – six o’clock. Time for tea.

HARE:
Move round, move round!

ALICE:
You’re all broken, you’re stuck.

HATTER:
You must have something to eat.

ALICE:
I don’t want to eat anything I’m very upset.

The
HATTER
holds his watch towards
ALICE
.

HATTER:
Time’s a great healer, you know.

ALICE:
Stupid wild goose chase – like yeah, go find the middle and then it’s all full of mentals like you lot –

HATTER:
Look: six o’clock – time for tea.

ALICE:
For god’s sake.

HARE:
It was the best butter – tea’s mashed!

HATTER:
And then there I am, standing on a chair in front of the queen, no less –

HARE:
The queen of Hearts!

HATTER:
The very one...

ALICE:
The queen of
Hearts
?

HATTER:
Demanding I sing her a song.

The
HATTER
and the
HARE
continue their dialogue, having got back to the beginning of their eternal loop.
ALICE
moves away, thinking
.

ALICE:
The queen is the queen of Hearts? Like on a pack of cards?

Oh my god – that’s what it means – the queen of Hearts. ‘Go right to the Heart’ means I have to go and see the queen, right, surely?

The queen of Hearts!

Queens live in castles, no palaces – did the duchess mention a palace?

There must be a palace, right? So where’s that?

Find the palace find the palace...