In Which We Serve Page #2

Good heavens, no. She was only doing 20.

- But she can do more than that, can't she?

- You bet she can.

Take the car round.

Then give Ellen a hand with dinner.

- Good evening, Edgecombe.

- Evening ma'am.

I hope it's a good dinner. I'm starving.

- Can I tell him what it is, Mummy?

- It's a surprise. She mustn't spoil it.

- Bobby, keep still. How long have you got?

- Till the morning.

Can we come to the dockyard?

No, son. We're commissioning,

making a rush job of it.

- But Mummy promised...

- That's enough. You heard Daddy.

But we shall be able to come on board

before you go, shan't we?

- Well, we'll make time somehow.

- When, Daddy? When?

Bobby, don't be so persistent.

Children, it's dreadfully late.

You really will have to go to bed.

Oh, Mummy.

Daddy will come up and say good night

if you're quick.

But I want to hear about the ship.

I'll tell you about it in the morning.

You can fire as many questions as you like.

Be good, do as your mother tells you,

and go to bed.

- Can I ask questions, too?

- You never do anything else.

Go on. Off you go, both of you.

- I'll be up in ten minutes. Promise.

- Promise?

- Are you coming up, too, Mummy?

- Yes.

Come on, Lavvy, I'll race you.

Wait. That's not fair!

They've been wild with excitement all day.

Darling, you must be exhausted.

I'll get you a drink.

Whisky and soda or a cocktail?

As it's a gala evening,

let's have a Kinross special.

I guessed it. It's all ready, only wants the ice.

I made a private bet

that you'd forget the Cointreau.

Wrong again.

I had a sort of feeling this was an occasion.

Were the trials satisfactory?

Were you pleased?

More than pleased. She's a lovely ship.

Does what she's told without a murmur.

Why are you making a rush job

of the commissioning?

- I like getting things done quickly.

- Is that the only reason?

We're living in strange times, darling.

It's as well to be prepared.

Yes, I suppose it is.

It's nothing to worry about.

No, of course not.

Here, try this. It may be a bit too sweet.

My love.

My love.

Just right, not a bit too sweet.

Miss me?

Of course not. I never gave you a thought.

What's the surprise for dinner?

Grouse. Maureen sent us a brace

from Scotland.

There's a girl of fine perception.

They're a bit high, but I expect you'll like that.

Is that a new dress?

Oh, no, darling. I've had it for ages.

- I swear I've never clapped eyes on it before.

- Only about 20 times, my love.

Perhaps it's you that looked new.

As good as new, anyway.

- Is there going to be a war, do you think?

- Yes, I think there is.

Oh.

No good worrying about it till it comes.

Not much good then, really.

No.

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