And When Did You Last See Your Father? Page #4

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I wouldn't have thought so.

It's God's own country.

What about Mum and Gillian?

I think Mummy and Gillian

will be fine too.

What if they drop the bomb on Blackpool?

Why on earth would the communists

want bomb Blackpool, fathead?

Liverpool, then?

It's a bit bloody morbid,

this, isn't it?

Come on, lets go and find somewhere

to camp before it starts raining.

It's a lovely spot. Nice and sheltered,

river nearby for swimming.

- Shouldn't we go to a proper campsite?

- It's the English countryside.

We're English. It belongs to us.

Maybe we should pitch the tent first,

just to be on the safe side.

Is there a canvas bag in there, Blake?

- Yep, yep.

- What's in it?

- Tent pegs.

- No poles?

- No, just some pegs.

- Let's have a look.

Oh, blast! Hell, blast and damnation!

Why didn't you check, fathead?

- You packed the tent.

- You used it last, didn't you?

- No, I didn't. You...

- There's no point in arguing about it.

- What you doing?

- Right! Follow me!

- Can't we sleep in the car?

- Sleep in the car?

What's the point of us coming all

the way up here and sleeping in the car?

A hotel then?

Maybe we should just go home.

Look, hold that and stop moaning,

for God's sake.

Mummy says hello.

Pub was bloody miles away.

Felt a bit rude just to use the phone

so stayed for a swift half.

No sandwiches though.

Here you are, supper.

- Not hungry.

- Fair enough. Breakfast then.

Do you want to put the torch out, eh?

Save on batteries.

If you like.

- Night-night, Blake.

- Night.

Dad!

Oh, my book!

It could have been a lot worse.

How, exactly?

If our sleeping bags weren't waterproof.

They're not waterproof!

- They are waterproof.

- So why am I wet, then?

Well, not waterproof, water-resistant.

It's not funny.

- Where are we going?

- I thought I'd drive us up to Scafell.

Can't we just go home?

We've only just started!

Besides, the sun will burn this cloud

off in next to no time.

We can dry the tent out on a hedge,

have a picnic and find another spot.

What do you say?

The unrest followed

a radio broadcast in which Khrushchev

reiterated his command

missile bases...

I was listening to that!

No point in fretting.

We all have die sooner or later.

If our times up, our times up.

That's more like it. Smashing.

I'm not going swimming,

if that's what you're thinking.

- I'm wet enough, as it is.

- Right, budge over, you!

- What for?

- Time you learnt to drive.

You're joking?

What, here?

Here there's no one

for you to smash into.

Come on, budge over!

Very gently off the clutch.

No, gently! Gently! Stop!

First gear. Top left.

Top left, that's it. Come on.

Come on. Gently!

- Clutch! No, fathead, left foot.

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