This Happy Breed Page #2

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Mother must have.

He's up to no good, I shouldn't wonder.

Eh. We ought to have had him arranged

when he was little.

Don't be so vulgar.

Poor old girl. You must be glad

to have a home of your own again.

Living four years with your mother

can't have been all jam I will say.

I think I was better off

in the trenches.

You ought to be ashamed

saying such things.

Your mother's all right in her way,

but that house of hers in Battersea.

Oh, dear. It gave me the willies

after five weeks, let alone four years.

At least we got a bath here

that doesn't scratch the hide off you.

- Lend me your hanky?

- Here you are.

I must go and help Mother and Syl

get the supper.

- Here, let's have a look at you.

- What for?

Just to see what's happened to your face.

You know, I don't seem to have had time

for a really good look at it since I got back.

- Oh, stop it. Leave go -

- Here, hold still a minute.

- Now see here, Frank Gibbons.

- It's not such a bad face as faces go, I will say.

- Oh, thanks very much I'm sure.

- It's not quite as young as it was when I married it.

- Leave hold of me.

- But taken by and large, I wouldn't change it.

I might wipe some of the dirt off

the side of it, but I wouldn't change it.

- Dirt? Where?

- Here, hold still.

There. That's better.

- Now, then -

- Now then what?

- Give us a kiss.

- I'll do no such thing.

- And why not, may I ask?

- We haven't got no time for fooling about, and well you know it.

Oh, turning nasty, are we?

We'll soon see about that.

- Frank Gibbons!

- Shut up.

- [Knocking]

- Oh, dear.

I hope I don't intrude.

I live at number 15 next door.

My missus and I thought if you

needed anything in the way of groceries -

Well, I'll be blowed.

- Mitchell. Bob Mitchell.

- That's right.

Well, don't you remember me?

Frank Gibbons - the Buffs?

"B" Company, Festubert, 1915.

- Strike me pink, it's old Gibbo.

- You old son of a gun!

Blimey. I thought you was as dead

as mutton after that night attack...

when we'd gone on to Givenchy

and left you lot in the mud.

What, me dead as mutton?

I'm tougher than that.

Only one small hole

through me leg in four years.

- Here, take a chair.

- Thanks.

- How did you make out?

- Well, not so bad.

Got gassed in '17. I'm all right now though.

Left me chest a bit weak, that's all.

Well, I'll say it's a small world

and no mistake.

[Clears Throat]

Don't you think you'd better introduce me, Frank?

Of course. This is the wife, Bob.

- Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gibbons.

- Oh, it's a pleasure, I'm sure.

[Chuckles]

Well, what a coincidence. I can't get over it.

- How long have you been here?

- Over a year now.

We took the house

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