Catherine sinks into the manly embrace of her gypsy-eyed lover. "Oh Heathcliffe, " she breathes, "You're such a beast..." Oo-er - hot stuff for a week night.

But this is Emily Bronte's epic bodice-ripper, a story of passion and revenge on the stormy Yorkshire Moors, and Ian Dickens' cast has a marvellous time with it.

Oliver Stoney is a moody and magnificent Heathcliffe, very assured for a first professional performance. Michelle Hardwick's Cathy is wilful and hot-tempered, just as she should be, but gosh she makes your palms itch as she flounces about doing exactly as she pleases. That girl needs a smack, as one of my colleagues remarked.

Edgar and Isabella Linton are brother and sister, in love with Cathy and Heathcliffe respectively, and each marries the object of their desire with drastic consequences.

Edgar's character is gentle and mild, a part which seems ideal for young Chris Rankin until you remember that Rankin is actually an international movie star, having featured as Percy Weasley in the Harry Potter films.

Harriet Usher is convincing as poor Isabella, who loves Heathcliffe to distraction and spends most of the second half in tears. Robert Beck is a powerful Hindley Earnshaw, drunkenly mourning his dead wife.

It's awash with emotion, so thank goodness for Tony Scannell and Katie Evans as the faithful retainers totally unmoved by the high drama, delivering words of homespun wisdom which lighten the atmosphere when needed.

An entertaining example of gothic theatre, played to the hilt by a talented cast.

Until Saturday.