Last Holiday Page #4

Well, of course it is horrible.

But, you see, Mr. Bird...

there is one of our best clients

who stay here often long time.

He arrange with me to make

some changes in his sitting room.

Today he come back,

so we must finish quick, eh?

You know this gentleman,

Sir Robert Kyle?

Very important gentleman

from Scotland.

Very, very rich.

Millionaire. From "sheeps. "

- Sheep?

- No, no. Big "sheeps" - to go in the water.

Mr. Bird, I ask the waiter to bring you

a very nice breakfast, especially for you.

Mmm.

So I got this commercial type

to give me a lift from Southampton.

About all I did get on this trip.

No, the luck's out, darling.

I wish you wouldn't do that in here.

We still have a bathroom.

Only just, I imagine.

Gambini sent for me yesterday.

I had to swear you'd pay him

as soon as you got back.

Well, I can't, of course.

It's not that that's worrying me.

You'd better tell me, hadn't you, Derek?

Hmm. No. I'd better not.

But if you know how to raise about 300

like lightning and with no security...

now is the time to tell me how it's done.

No, uh, diamond necklaces

tucked away anywhere?

Don't be silly. Everything I had

that was worth selling is gone.

Hmm. Anybody new in the pub?

Yes. A man called Bird,

who rather likes me.

Though he makes me feel uncomfortable.

I can't think why.

- Rich type?

- Could be.

It's hard to say.

I can't make him out.

- Well, a bird in the hand -

- Not funny.

Perhaps not. But if you knew

as much as I do, pretty heroic.

Oh, well. I'll have a shot at Wrexham.

If that's no go, I'll have a last try

at one or two old comrades in town.

Nice people we're turning into.

Squadron Leader

Derek Rockingham, D.F.C.

Sheila, only daughter

of Admiral Brenton.

- And now, look at us.

- Now listen, poppet,

- I won't.

- Oh, yes, you will.

Well, I'm sorry, madam,

but it's a strict rule with the management...

that no young children are allowed.

I think it's a shame too.

I'd rather have children

and not stay here.

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

- Good-bye.

- Nice place you have here.

If you'd like to talk to your friends about it,

we have a small handbook I could give you.

No, thank you. As a matter of fact, I was

wondering if a friend of mine was staying here.

- Is his name Smith or Robinson?

- Smart girl, aren't you?

- Ministry of Food?

- Good Lord, no. Do I look like a snooper?

- Yes, I think you do, rather.

- Well, I'm not.

But as a favor-

purely as a favor, mind you -

would you allow me to glance

through your register?

If you want any information,

you better ask the manager, Mr. Gambini.

Gambini, eh?

Not perhaps what I want.

- What about you?

- It's no good.

Don't know enough about

the customers, and don't care.

Just waiting for a young man

in Kenya to send for me.

Oh, I see. Well, good luck.

There's a Mrs. Poole here, isn't there?

Mrs. Poole's the housekeeper.

Do you know her?

I used to know her husband.

I'd like to have a word with her.

Could you, uh, fix it?

Just wait over there,

my dear Holmes, will you?

Of course.

But the name's Wilton.

You know, what you did last night made

all the difference to him. Didn't it, Joe?

It did. And listen, George, old son,

I'd like to do you a favor.

- Make you a nice little packet, if you're interested.

- I might be, Joe.

- Mr. Bird.

- Excuse me.

Might be me she's after really. Eh?

- Then again, it might not.

- Come on.

You weren't going out

with those people, were you?

- Yes. Putting. Why not?

- Common as dirt.

So am I. Perhaps we all are.

You'd better join us.

Oh, all right. But I'd like to

talk to you alone sometime.

- I can give you a quarter of an hour.

- Thanks.

Mr. Holmes. You'll find her

at the end of the landing on the second floor.

The name's on the door.

Much obliged.

But we're not altogether strangers.

Frank and I were in "C" Division

and up at Hendon together.

You've probably heard him mention me.

Yes, I remember.

- But what's it all about anyhow?

- Currency smuggling.

What do you know about this chap Bird?

- Bird?

- Yes.

Well, the smart clothes he wears

are secondhand.

They belonged to Lord Fristover,

who lived at Chanbury in the Midlands.

Two of his shirts were bought

at a shop in Chanbury.

So, I think he comes from Chanbury.

Yes, but what's he doing here?

- Spending his savings to see life.

Oh, just when I thought I needn't

worry about people any longer...

I have to start worrying

about this chump.

Just because he has a helpless look

and I don't know what it means...

I have to start getting upset

and trying to help- it's idiotic.

I thought you women

liked worrying about somebody.

Oh, I hate this "you women" stuff.

But if you must know, if we don't worry,

then we feel only half alive...

and if we do worry,

then we worry and worry and -

Oh, I thought I had more sense.

Well, I'm glad you haven't.

Can you tell me anything

about the Rockinghams?

Good-looking, nice clothes,

plenty of charm...

but he can't pay his bill

and might be getting into mischief.

Hmm. Well, I may need your help again

later on. Do you mind?

- Not at all. I'll do all I can to help you.

- Thank you.

Good-bye.

The answer is no.

Lovely morning.

I'm always fond of early autumn.

I've, uh, put up one or two blacks lately.

Things are looking pretty nasty.

I'm not surprised.

In fact, I told Sheila yesterday-

you ought to be more careful.

Sheila, eh?

By the way, I wouldn't make any mistake

there, if I were you, Wrexham.

She's still very devoted to me.

Strange but true.

- What about this fellow Bird?

- I shouldn't count on anything there.

Everybody seems impressed except me.

I think he's a counterjumper

who took a lucky dip in a football pool.

Well, he might be worth trying.

I think I'll run up to town first

and see if I can raise anything.

Poor old Derek.

He's rather desperate just now,

poor lamb, trying to raise some money.

- Has he tried everything?

- Yes. Absolutely everything.

Even working?

Isn't that rather a beastly remark?

It depends how you feel about work.

I've got a very hot tip on a horse.

Get you tens on it.

- All you gotta do is stick on 50 quid, same as me.

- And you're not telling me anything about it?

Can't, chum, 'cause I promised.

So, you gotta make up your mind, George.

Either I'm doing you a favor,

or I'm playing a con game.

Either you trust me, or you don't.

All right, Joe. I trust you.

Put 50 on for me.

That's the talk, Georgie.

I was just stealing a cutting for my garden.

I always do, wherever I go.

- My mother always did.

- Ah, thank you, Mr. Bird.

When my husband, Sir Herbert,

was alive, we kept 10 gardeners.

- Fancy.

- Now I've only three.

And I've only one.

And he's even older than I am.

Eighty, if a day, the poor old thing.

Mr. Bird seems a very unhappy young man.

Have you noticed it?

- I can't say I have.

- Well, I have.

But then they all are now.

They try to be sane in a mad world...

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