Twisted Nerve Page #3

Hmm. Big enough.

And not for you.

With your face, and

your figure...

you could be a model.

Ahh, now... look at that

Twiggy and The Shrimp.

More like a couple

of growing boys...

and they made

a fortune!

Well I'm more like

a growing girl...

so I couldn't, could I?

I think I'll take

these up with me.

You won't want to take books

to bed with you forever.

I was married when

I was your age.

I know. Was a

love-match wasn't it.

'Til someone blew it out.

The only thing your father

ever blew were his chances.

He didn't have

to go to Africa.

He had a fine

practice here.

Well...

maybe he wanted something he

couldn't get on the National Health.

Yeah... black women!

And he wasn't very much good

with white, I can tell you that.

Oh Mum... be fair.

We both know why

he walked out.

If I had kicked your father

where he deserved...

he'd have never have

walked again!

Now, who on earth

can that be?

S'alright, I'll go.

Yes?

Hello.

Well... who do you want?

Susan, please.

Who is it?

It's for you.

Georgie!

What's this?

Well you better come in.

You're soaked.

Please.

Are you Susan's Mummy?

Yes... yes, I am.

Who are you?

Oh, this is Georgie.

Err... Clifford.

Oh... oh, so you're

the flower man?

No, Mum.

His father is.

Come here, Georgie.

Go in and sit by the fire

for a moment... will you?

Get dry.

Now who is he?

He looks a bit, erm...

Simple. That's all.

Here. Read this.

'Dear Susan Harper... '

'My son has told me

of your kindness... '

'and I am glad to hear

that he can stay with you... '

'as a paying guest. '

'He has money and

will be no trouble. '

'I shall be abroad for a week... '

'and hope to thank you

in person on my return. '

'In the meantime, I am

sending you some roses... '

'from Georgie and me. '

'Sincerely, James Clifford. '

'P.S. Bedtime

nine-thirty, please. '

Whh.. at?

What on earth are you thinking

of, he can't stay here!

I never said he could!

Quick! Phone the hotel,

tell his father.

Yes.

Well I... I'm sorry,

mister, erm...

Georgie.

Georgie.

Well I'm sorry, Georgie...

I'm afraid you can't

stay with us...

we've nowhere to

put you.

You're like Susan...

you're pretty.

Erm...

where's your father

gone, Georgie?

Oh, do sit down.

Yes, that's right.

Mr James Clifford.

I'll just make sure...

one moment, madam.

Hello?

No madam, Mr Clifford

checked-out this morning.

Caught a plane

to Paris.

No, madam...

he never left

an address.

Oh. I see.

Thank you.

Gone.

Oh, dear.

And I've just

been telling Georgie...

we can't put him up,

there's no room.

Where will you go?

Georgie's alright.

We better 'phone

for a taxi.

You'll never get

one in this weather.

I... I can try.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Georgie.

I'm terribly sorry, Georgie...

but if only we'd

known earlier...

we could have arranged

something.

And if only your father

had 'phoned yesterday...

or the day before...

I'm sure we could have

managed something, but...

but at this short notice,

absolutely impossible.

There isn't an empty

bed in the house.

Oh dear, just look

at that rain!

I really am so

terribly sorry.

Goodbye.

Bye.

Mum, we can't!

Couldn't he have

my old room?

I'm not getting lumbered.

Thank you very much!

But just for tonight,

couldn't he?

Are you out of

your mind?

What sort of father...

sends a boy like that...

to a place like this, that

he hasn't even seen?!

Well, for all he knows this

could be a brothel!

Oh, please. He'll be

no trouble, Mum. Please.

Oh, alright.

And if he wets the bed,

you wash the sheets!

Georgie!

Georgie!

Come on back!

We can't let you go

out in this weather.

Come on.

I'll take this.

Those cases must

be heavy.

Mum thinks we can

manage after all.

You're gonna have my old

room, right at the top.

It'll be in a bit of a

mess I expect.

But you won't mind

that, will you, Georgie?

Hang on a minute.

Thank you.

Sweet dreams.

Here we go.

You're supposed to be

in bed by now, aren't you?

Huh... you'll have to have

a hot bath first, though.

You're absolutely drenched!

Alright, Clarkie...

I heard you.

I was wondering...

I've been beating this going

longer than J. Arthur Rank!

Your breakfast's cold.

Sorry.

Good morning.

- Hello, Susan.

- Morning.

Hell, I'm late again!

Mr Groom's going to

take the pants off me.

What time will

that be, love?

For you, Mr Henderson?

A waste of time!

Ahh, what a shame.

Did mother tell you

about our visitor?

Yes, she did.

A bit soft, she said.

No... like a little boy.

If you see him, Shashie, be

nice to him, will you?

Yes, of course.

Oh, I must dash. Bye.

Bye.

Time somebody was

nice to her!

She'll be begging for it

by the time she's forty.

Late tonight, Clarkie.

Tell mum for me, will you?

I'll tell 'er you've 'ad

no breakfast!

Make sure you 'ave lunch.

Bye.

Oh... so you're Georgie.

Go and get your

breakfast.

Thank you.

Good morning.

Ah! Georgie!

Well, come on in, lad. Sit down.

We won't eat ya.

I'm Gerry and this

is the, err...

'The Professor'.

Mr Kumar.

Hello, Georgie.

He'll do the Indian Rope Trick

if you ask him nicely.

Tea of coffee, Georgie?

Tea, please.

Dad's in Paris, eh?

Yes.

- Seeing the sights.

- Yes.

I'll bet he is!

Oh, come on... eat

your egg up, boy.

That's it.

Specially laid by

Donald Duck.

Tea, Georgie.

Thank you.

You like the movies,

do you?

What about Batman?

'Batman is a Fatman'!

Oh, who do you

like then?

- Tarzan.

- Oh, Tarzan! Whoh...

- Yaeeahheyaa!

- Ha, ha, ha...

Alright... don't bust

a gut, mate!

Ha, ha, ha...

Well... err... yeah...

the Professor can tell

you all about Tarzan...

err, that's where he comes

from, the jungle.

Tarzan was the son of

an English Lord, Georgie.

- Was he?

- Mmm hmm.

Who else would want to

swing through trees...

with a bunch of

apes, hmm?

Get out of it!

Well, I must be off

to the hospital.

Bye, Georgie.

I'm off too.

- Burrrp!

- Ha, ha, ha...

Blimey...

you'll be alright, lad.

You... you just

keep laughing!

Oh, thank you. Can you

put them in the sink?

You don't have to do

that, you know?

Georgie can wash up.

So I can see.

Who taught you?

Mummy.

Where is she, Georgie?

Have you stripped the

boy's bed, Clarkie?

It's been made.

I thought you done it.

Made?

Room's a picture...

windows open, clothes

put away...

pyjamas under the pilla.

I wish the others were

as neat and tidy!

Georgie!

I'm just going shopping...

will you be alright?

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Georgie.

No reading in bed, mind.

Georgie!

Still here?

- Yes... 'night, Susan.

- Goodnight.

- Hello, Mum.

- Hello, Darling.

I thought he was going?

Oh, how could we.

You're quite right...

he'll be no trouble.

No trouble at all.

Henry, listen to this...

'Dear Mummy... '

'The flight was fine'

'and Paris is trs belle'.

Thank you.

'But will not stay here as I have

decided to travel around a bit. '

'Will write again soon.

Love, Marty. '

'P.S. I will be thinking

of Dad on Friday,'

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