Last Holiday Page #7

into something in the graveyard.

You aren't leaving, are you?

Yes. At least I think so.

- Well, nobody told me.

- I haven't told anybody yet.

- Going home?

- No.

- Going to some other hotel?

- I don't know.

- What are the other hotels here?

- The biggest is the Grand.

Posh?

Posh-ish. Much bigger than this.

Dancing there.

Well, I'll go and see

what they can do for me.

Now you pop off, Maggie.

What's the matter with everybody

this morning?

All creating.

That Miss Fox crying because

Lady Whosit's gone and sacked her.

Fair old stinker.

Maggie, ask Miss Fox if she would

come and have a word with me here.

Okeydokey.

Come in.

- Oh, Mr. Bird, it's so good of you.

- I haven't done anything yet.

Miss Fox, is it true

Lady Oswington's dismissed you?

After five years

as her companion, Mr. Bird.

It was all so sudden and so -

so - so brutal.

Just because of last night.

What will you do now, Miss Fox?

I don't know, I'm sure, Mr. Bird.

What would you like to do,

if you could do it?

Sometimes my cousin and I have talked

about opening a little gift shop.

Giftee Shoppee,

I think we'd call it.

You know, just a quaint,

friendly little place...

but though she has a little money of her own

I'm afraid I haven't any.

How much would you want to start it?

Oh, no, Mr. Bird. It's very kind,

but I really couldn't accept such -

I'll lend it to you then. You can pay it back

sometime, though it doesn't matter.

Oh, Mr. Bird,

but could you really?

Miss Fox! Miss Fox!

This is your chance. Take it.

Miss Fox, where are you?

Don't answer. Or tell her to go to blazes.

Miss Fox, where are you?

I'm here, Lady Oswington.

Miss Fox, just this once

I'll overlook your horrible behavior.

- Oh, thank you, Lady Oswington.

- But never again, mind.

Oh, yes, Lady Oswington.

I quite understand.

Well, I don't. I'd rather have anything,

even a Giftee Shoppee.

I wasn't aware that anybody asked

for your opinion, Mr. Bird.

Come along, Miss Fox. I don't know

what Sir Herbert would have thought.

I'd better ask Sir Herbert when I see him.

It shouldn't be long now.

Oi! Anybody there?

You're wasting your breath, chum,

I pulled 'em all out,

- Pulled who out?

- Cooks, waiters, chambermaids, receptionists.

The whole issue. On strike.

Got a light?

Yes, they're all out.

Neat job.

Came down from Amalgamated Unions

yesterday, pulled them all out...

and now you couldn't get

a glass of hot water anywhere.

- You staying in Pinebourne?

- I'm at the Regal.

- Thought of coming here.

- Regal, eh?

I'm pulling them out after tea.

Twelve-hour sympathetic strike.

You won't get a sausage

anywhere tonight, chum.

- Well, I'm a busy man. Cheerio.

- Cheerio.

I've just left a 15-stone woman

who'll get no food for the next 24 hours.

That'll do her more good than I can.

Can I give you a lift? I've got a car outside.

Oh, thanks very much.

- Tried to golf here yet?

- No, I don't play golf.

You don't, eh?

What do you do then?

Oh, just live for pleasure.

I hope you don't mind me

asking you, Doctor...

but can you tell me anything

about Lampington's disease?

Shouldn't have thought you'd heard of that.

Very rare, you know.

Of course,

old Trevor Lampington's still alive...

but you don't hear

very much about him these days.

Lampington.

Sir Trevor Lampington.

Oh, yes, Sir Trevor,

We're expecting you,

If you wouldn't mind signing the register.

Page, room 10.

I'm here to spend the night

with my old friend, Sir Robert Kyle.

Really, Sir Trevor?

Thank you.

Mmm.

Quite a handsome young woman.

- Thank you, Sir, Trevor.

- But you'll have to watch those kidneys.

Sir Trevor, it's a very great pleasure

to have you staying with us.

- Indeed? Who are you?

- I'm Gambini, the manager of this hotel.

Sir Robert has told me of you...

and I arranged to make for you tonight

a very special, nice dinner.

Oh? What would that be?

Some nice hors d'oeuvres,

a little smoked salmon, some hot lobster.

Poison!

All you will make for me would be

a very special, nice bowl of bread and milk.

Oil

I'm just warning you, chum.

If you give him this special, nice dinner tonight,

you'll have to cook it and serve it yourself.

I don't know you.

I don't talk to you.

- Union member?

- Yes.

Twelve-hour sympathetic strike.

Starts at 5:
00 this afternoon.

You pass the word round the rest of you in front

and I'll go round the kitchens.

- I'm pulling everybody out.

- All right, Napolon, when do we take Asia?

Mrs. Rockingham.

Oh, bless you for this.

You'll never know what it means to me.

I couldn't sleep a wink last night.

What are you doing?

I've stopped it just to talk to you

quietly for a minute.

You see, I couldn't thank you properly last night.

- Oh, that's all right.

- No, it isn't.

I've been a pig, and you're heaven.

- Ringing for the lift?

- Looks like it, doesn't it?

- Haven't seen Mr. Bird, have you?

- I haven't seen Bird, and I don't want to see Bird.

I'm tired of all this fuss

you people are making about Bird.

I'm so sorry. I can't think what can have happened.

Not very efficient, is it,

for a place of this kind.

Some of us are still busy men,

even if we are supposed to be recuperating.

And some of us have to keep on being busy

even without recuperating.

Oh, it's coming up now.

Ah, Mr. Bird!

See you later.

In a hurry now.

Mr. Bird, you were complaining

about your window rattling.

- Oh, was I?

- So I understood. I brought you some wedges.

This afternoon then?

- What's all this about the window?

- Oh, shut up.

I must have an excuse to talk to you,

and the laundress is in the linen room.

Well, Mr. Bird, I'm afraid there's only one thing

I can do about these windows...

and that's to wedge them,

so I brought some wedges.

I see.

Thanks very much, Mrs. Poole.

I wanted to give you a chance to explain

what you said last night. You upset me terribly.

- I didn't sleep a wink.

- Sorry.

I... wouldn't take

any notice of that.

I didn't mean to be angry with you.

I'm so sorry.

But there's no need

to talk about graveyards.

Don't take any notice of that.

I just got carried away.

- I think that's better. Don't you, Mr. Bird?

- What?

Oh, I think so, Mrs. Poole,

so long as it doesn't rattle, of course.

I don't understand you.

What is the matter with you?

I'll tell you

what's the matter with me.

For years -years - nothing happened.

I couldn't get anywhere.

Win over a hundred at poker,

get offered big, fancy jobs...

shares in subsoilers, run holiday camps,

and none of it's any good to me.

Oh, shh. Be quiet.

And when I try to tell somebody about it,

I have to pretend that a window is rattling.

Please, be quiet.

Look. I've got the afternoon off...

and we could go out together

and you can tell me properly.

I can't this afternoon.

I promised to go a walk.

- With that Rockingham girl?

- Yes.

Then you're even sillier

than I thought you were.

Now, Mr. Bird,

that ought to be all right.

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