This Happy Breed Page #4

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Ginger beer. A little nip of extra

for Frank and me. I've got me pouch.

Take it easy, Dad. We're going to Wembley,

not the Battle of Jutland.

- Morning, Billy. Morning, Reg.

- Hello.

Good morning, all.

Well, what are the plans?

- I thought we might start off at the Palace of Engineering.

- Oh, Dad.

We haven't got any plans.

We're just going to have a jolly good time.

Well, are we going, or are we gonna

stand here all day talking about it?

- Don't be saucy, Queenie.

- Say good-bye to your mum.

- Charm.

- Good-bye, Nora.

Good-bye, Nora.

Sorry you can't come.

Well, I've got eight and six

and I'm going to spend every penny.

- [Chattering, Laughing]

- [Calliope]

Oh, I can't look.

It frightens me to death.

Don't be silly.

They're enjoying themselves fit to bust.

Reg'll be sick.

You know what he is.

Do him good after that lunch he put away.

Thank goodness we ditched them.

I hate going round in a mob.

Yeah, nice to be alone for a bit, isn't it?

Isn't the water lovely and clear?

Look. You can see the bottom.

- It's a lovely blue, isn't it?

- Lovely.

- Are you a good sailor?

- I don't know.

- Well, you'll soon find out.

- Oh, you are awful.

[Clicking]

Oh, do shut up, Frank.

Where can they be?

They promised to meet us here at 6:00.

I don't know or care.

I brought them here

to see the glories of the Empire...

and all they think about

is going on the dodgems.

[Clicking]

Mrs. Whitney's bronchitis is worse, Ethel.

They had to have a kettle.

- Shh!

- Oh, Frank give it a rest, do.

You've been at it all day.

I'd never have given you the beastly thing...

if I'd thought it was going to

spoil Christmas for the rest of us.

- Oh, Dad, can I have the port?

- No use talking to your father, Reg.

He might just as well not be here.

Go on, take it.

Okay. Thanks, Mum.

Having all these things is selfish.

I'm going to get mad -

[Chattering]

- One, two, three!

- [Shrieks]

Well, got it away from them

without a struggle.

Well, struggle over here

and pour it out.

Come on now.

Who's for the cup that cheers?

- I'll have a drop.

- Here you are, Sam.

Don't these nuts get in your throat?

Here, have a mince pie, Phyll.

- I made it myself.

- Thanks.

It has been nice you letting me come

and spend my Christmas Day with you.

I don't know what I would have done

all by myself in that house in Wandsworth...

- what with Auntie ill and everything.

- Is she any better?

No, she just goes on about the same.

Mrs. Watts is looking after her till 7:00,

so I don't have to get back till about then.

- [Knocks On Table]

- I will now call upon...

my old and valued friend, Sam Leadbitter,

to say a few words.

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