Seven Days to Noon Page #5

Ah, only a week?

Yes...

My work will be over by then.

Don't think me inquisitive. I'm not.

But what sort of work is it you do?

Research at the British Museum.

Oh. I thought you might be an actor,

and I won't allow theatricals here.

I quite understand.

That lot are trouble! This is it.

Thank you.

Ah, there's Bunty. Never know

where you'll find her. Shoo!

Well?

This'll do me nicely.

Oh, yes? I can arrange

a very small breakfast.

Thank you.

- I'll want your ration book for that.

- Oh, yes, of course.

Hope youll be comfortable.

I don't think I will have breakfast.

I shall be going out very early.

In that case the room is 22... and 6d

in advance. It is customary, Mr...?

Richards.

I thought you said...

Richards.

Thank you.

Come on, Bunty.

Ah, there's Amber. Naughty!

She's forever in the beds. I'll

put in another bottle for tonight.

Thank you.

Now, you'll be all right?

Thank you, yes.

Come along, Amber. Bunty!

I don't get it. You dont have to.

What's the idea?

The Prime Minister's asked every

London daily to carry it tomorrow.

the horse came forth, the red

horse, and to him that sat thereon,

...to him that sat thereon, it was given

to take the peace from the earth."

"And there was given unto him

a great sword."

thus with a mighty

fall shall Babylon the

great city, Babylon the

great city be cast down"

Yes, Mrs Peckett?

I... You're still awake?

Yes.

You can't sleep?

Please dont concern yourself. My

brains clearest in the small hours.

Good night.

Good night.

Hello? Get me the Victoria Road

police station, quick!

Yeah? Oh... she's here.

Yes, show Miss Willingdon in.

Shes no fool. She knows theres

something up... something pretty big.

What will we tell her?

I'm not sure yet.

Come in.

Miss Willingdon, sir.

Ah, hello.

I know I shouldn't be

here, but I read the

papers and you're

holding something back.

I think I ought to know.

After all, he is my father.

Now, look, come and sit down.

We're anxious to avoid

causing you unnecessary distress.

We've discovered that, for months,

your father's been under strain.

But he showed no sign of it.

Nevertheless, it was so,

and it was too much for him.

Are you saying his mind is affected?

I'm afraid so.

But what does it mean? Ministerial

discussions on a high level...

Ann, isn't that enough?

Oh, please, Mr Folland, tell me!

All right, Miss Willingdon.

I think the best way

to tell you is by showing

you your father's letter.

It's addressed to the Prime Minister.

Oh, Daddy.

Taxi!

Clifts Hotel, Bayswater, please.

Steve, I cant believe it. Daddys

so gentle... he wouldnt hurt a fly.

I blame myself. I should have

realised he was overdoing it.

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