|Are You being Served? Postcards-1975
Author: W.V. Awdry PM
An alternative version to the Are You Being Served Movie set in 1975 SpainRated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Adventure - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,621 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 01-24-13 - Published: 11-15-12 - id: 8705100
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. Humphries sat at the kitchen table as Mrs. Lucas brought over some tea. "I know you don't like coffee Mrs. Peacock," she said. Mrs. Peacock didn't respond instead muttering something about her husband sleeping with a lowerclass broad. "Well," said Mrs. Humphries. "I do hope they have a good time." "Same here," said Mrs. Lucas. "My Dickie's always loved the beach. I remember when his father was around we used to go to the beach all the time and my Dickie would get very red with sunburn, yet he'd still want to go out the next day." "My boy's never really cared for the beach," said Mrs. Humphries. "I never really understood why, but the only time he'd go was when Manchester United was having their swimsuit calendar made." "Yes," said Mrs. Lucas. "However, I'm just hoping that there will be some magic going on between My Dickie and Miss Brahams." "Don't ever mention her name!" yelled Mrs. Peacock. "I know she's going to go after him I just know it!" "Mrs. Peacock," said Mrs. Lucas. "Are you all right?" "Uh, yes," said Mrs. Peacock, whose face was turning red with embarrassment over the outburst. "Say shall we go to the park?" "I was thinking going over to Sheffield," said Mrs. Humphries. "They have a new dirt motorbike track I'd like to try." "That sounds like fun," said Mrs. Lucas. "What do you say Mrs. Peacock?" Mrs. Peacock looked less then thrilled at the idea of racing around a dirt track on a motorbike. "Sure, just uh, let me go change real quick."
Mrs. Peacock got up and headed off to her room. "She's gotten worse," said Mrs. Humphries. "You're telling me," said Mrs. Lucas. "I tell you it's that Stephen Peacock. I wish I was still working with Dr. Sheffield, I could get her some medicine to have her calm down." "Maybe you could send her to Doctor Sheffield's," said Mrs. Humphries. "Considering he's still walking bowlegged, can't stand for more then three minutes, and has double vision after I quit being a nurse, I don't think him getting a patient from me would be a good idea," said Mrs. Lucas as she heard a loud scream from upstairs. "What in the world was that?" "I don't know," said Mrs. Humphries as she got up and the two women ran upstairs to where the commotion was.
Upstairs the two women found Mrs. Peacock in her closet crying. "There, there dear," said Mrs. Lucas as she held Mrs. Peacock. On the floor was a number of papers with pencil drawings on them. Mrs. Humphries picked them up and looked at them. "Oh dearie me," she said growing red with embarrasement. "What do you think, Mrs. Lucas?"
The papers held drawings of scantily clad women. The first page was Miss Brahams, the second was a woman named Rose who was standing in front of a council house with a broken down car in the front, the third picture was one called "Carol Cleveland," which had the cast of Monty Python behind her and then the final one was a drawing of Mrs. Brahams, Miss St. Clair (Miss Braham's aunt) and much to Mrs. Lucas surprise, Mrs. Lucas." "Well," said Mrs. Lucas after a moment. "I must say whoever did this one of me and the St. Clairs did an excellent job. Mrs. Peacock, do you mind if I have this picture? I want to send it to a friend of mine who runs an art gallery," However, Mrs. Peacock was close to reaching rock bottom. "Don't you care?" "Why should I care?" asked Mrs. Lucas. "Mrs. Peacock, when you get to be fifty two years old and people still find you attractive it's quite an honor." "But he doesn't find me attractive!" said Mrs. Peacock who was now on the verge of tears. "All our married life I've had to put up with his running around chasing tail. He forces us ever year for our holiday to go to that nudist resort because it's easy pickings." "Mrs. Peacock," said Mrs. Lucas going into nurse mode. "I suggest you stop while you're ahead and take some deep breaths." However, that did nothing to deter Mrs. Peacock as she ran out of the room." "Come on," said Mrs. Lucas. "Sixty four years old and I'm still running after children," said Mrs. Humphries as she followed Mrs. Lucas.
Downstairs, Mrs. Peacock ran to the garage and found what she was looking for: Captain Peacock's war chest. Opening it, she grabbed Captain Peacock's pistol and after loading it with bullets, ran out of it down to the street. Mrs. Lucas and Mrs. Humphries darted out after her. "Wait," said Mrs. Humphries as she flagged a cab. "We'll follow her by cab." "Good planning," said Mrs. Lucas. "I think I might now where she's heading."
Mrs. Lucas figured that Mrs. Peacock would be heading for Grace Brothers, the hunch being that Captain Peacock wouldn't have told her where they were going. She figured correctly, but due to the nature of the traffic, they got to Grace Brothers just in time to see three police cars and a BBC news van outside. Out front was Mr. Spooner and Mr. Harman who were both talking to the police. "What happened?" asked Mrs. Lucas as the police left. "It was crazy," said Mr. Spooner. "Some nut came running in with a gun drawn demanding to know where Captain Peacock is. Mrs. Truman told her and this nut responded by firing a two shots in her direction for "being in league with Stephen.'" "Did she look like Mrs. Peacock?" asked Mrs. Humphries. "Yes," said Mr. Spooner. "The police are currently trying to find her." "And she's going to be getting in quite some trouble," said the policeman. "She's got about twenty-five citations coming up for what she did in the store." "All right," said Mrs. Lucas. "Thank you." "Oh by the way," asked the Policeman. "Why are you two so interested?" "She's part of our bridge club," said Mrs. Humphries. "Oh," said the Policeman. "All right."
Meanwhile, the plane had touched down at the airport in Madrid and after a train ride that consisted of a conductor making Mr. Lucas sit in the guards van for acting suspicious, the group arrived in Costa Plonka.
"It's a quiet place," said Mr. Rhumbold. "Yes," said Mr. Lucas, noting that no one was giving any of them eye contact as they walked down the road. "Say, it's almost three o'clock and we haven't eaten anything since breakfast." "We'll eat when we get our hotel," said Captain Peacock. "I wouldn't mind eating a salsa filled taco right now come to think of it." Though he was trying to look at Miss Brahams, Mrs. Slocombe though he was looking at her, which made her blush a bit. She was planning to put operation Captain Trap in to action tomorrow when the group went out to the beach.
"All right," said Mr. Rhumbold. "Here is our hotel." The hotel looked like it was twenty years out of date. Cheap trinkets lined the sides and the balconies were very small. "Well," said Mr. Lucas. "I've always wanted to stay where the Frito-Bandito stays on his holiday." "That will do, Mr. Lucas," said Captain Peacock as the group walked in to the hotel.
Inside, Don Bernardo was on the phone with his brother in law. "Look Cesar," he said in Spanish. "I've got troops here and the only reason the government hasn't tapped my line yet is due to my status as being married to the wife of a General in the Spanish army. Oh wait, got to go." He hung up the phone as the group approached. "Hello and welcome to Costa Plonka. I'm Don Bernardo and I'll be your hotel steward." "Thank you," said Captain Peacock. "We're here for Grace Brothers. "All right," said Don Bernardo. "Room 313." "Wait a minute," said Mr. Rhumbold. "What do you mean 'Room 313?' There should also be 314, 315, and 316 to go with it." "This was reserved for Grace Brothers," said Don Bernardo. "And from what we know there are two brother who run Grace so we think why would they need four rooms, particularly when the Catholic Priest Union is in town?" "Are there any others?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "No sir," said Don Bernardo. "I guess you'll all have to cram in. Good day." "Well this is stupid," said Mrs. Slocombe. "How are we going to divide the room?" "Senior staff should get it," said Captain Peacock. "Women need a room," said Mrs. Slocombe. "Miss Brahams and I should get it." "The department who originally held the floor and has more people should get it," said Mr. Grainger. "Menswear should have it." "What do you three think?" asked Mr. Rhumbold to Mr. Lucas, Mr. Humphries and Miss. Brahams." "I'm fine with sleeping out on the beach," said Mr. Lucas. "That's what we did in Brighton." "Really?" asked Miss Brahams. "Which side, Rockers or Mods?" "Mods," said Mr. Lucas. "There's a reason I work at Grace Brothers." "Oh," said Mr. Humphries, disappointed that his fantasy of Mr. Lucas in Leather had fallen through." "Did you happen to run into Addie Saint Clair?" asked Miss Brahams. "Yes," said Mr. Lucas. "She was a girlfriend of my Best Mate." "She's my cousin," said Miss Brahams. "Were you the one who charged forward with the mods when the rockers outnumbered you?" "Yes," said Mr. Lucas. "My mum has the newspaper clipping if you want to see it when we get back." "Well, while we're all reliving history," said Mrs. Slocombe. "What are we doing to the one room?" "Hmm," said Captain Peacock and he darted off towards the staircase followed by Mrs. Slocombe, Mr. Grainger, and Mr. Rhumbold. "Well," said Mr. Lucas looking at his watch. "It's almost five. I say we get some dinner." "Good idea," said Mr. Humphries.
The trio headed out to a cheap café and after ordering dinner watched the tide come in and out of the beach. As their food arrived, the Mr. Rhumbold and Mr. Grainegr arrived and the trio noted their clothes looked worse for wear. "Dear God," said Mr. Lucas. "What happened?" "Well," said Mr. Rhumbold, whose glasses looked like were now taped together. "Captain Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe are currently fighting over the room as both reached it at the same time. I did manage to secure an agreement with Don Bernardo and he has allowed us to sleep in the dining room and lounge for an added price of ten pesetas." "What a generous man," said Mr. Lucas. "Yes," said Mr. Rhumbold not catching the sarcasm. "So, after we have dinner, I think we should go down to listen to the Jugamos duro que los Britanicos. Their a hard core punk band that sings rock n roll songs from around the world." "Hmm," said Mr. Humphries, imagining them. "Yes, you may like the lead singer Mr. Lucas," said Mr. Rhumbold. "She's quite attractive." "Thank you, Mr. Rhumbold," said Mr. Lucas again going to Sarcasm mode as Miss Brahams glared at Mr. Rhumbold. "So, tomorrow," said Mr. Rhumbold. "We're dividing our day "In the morning, half of us will go to the nude beach and the other half will go to the regular one and the shops and then in the afternoon we'll switch." "Why?" asked Mr. Humphries. "Suppose we don't want to go to the nude beach." "Well, don't you feel adventurous?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "Mr. Rhumbold," said Mr. Lucas. "Did Captain Peacock suggest that idea?" "Well he says he and his wife have a good time when they go to their island," said Mr. Rhumbold. "But if it makes you feel any better, tomorrow, Mr. Grainger, Captain Peacock, Mrs. Slocombe and Myself will go first and then in the afternoon, you three can go. How's that sound?" "Oh what fun," said Miss Brahams, who sincerely hoped Captain Peacock hadn't brought his binoculars.
Meanwhile, Cesar was on a call line with a Russian spy who was hiding in Paris. "Your mother must gather twelve eggs at the Chicken Coop on Thursday," said the spy, which meant "Operation must start tomorrow at twelve p.m." "But shouldn't she gather nine eggs Friday?" asked Cesar. "No," said the spy. "Grandma wants your mother to gather the twelve eggs on Thursday as the egg snake is growing closer." "All right," said Cesar. "I'll pass the word onto my mother." "Thank you," said the spy. "Grandma loves you." Cesar hung up the phone upset. He would need to send word and then hope that the spy had passed word onto Portugal. If that didn't happen…Well, thought Cesar. "Better to go out with a bang.
Captain Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe finally arrived and said that they were going to split the room and if anyone wanted to stay there they would have to "be submissive," which had been said with Captain Peacock looking at Miss Brahams and Mrs. Slocombe looking at Captain Peacock, happy to have her rat in the trap. "Well," said Mr. Lucas. "If you need me, I'll be out on the beach."
After dinner the group headed down to where the band was playing. The song they were singing was playing El Punk Y El Eadrino. "What utter rubbish," said Mr. Grainger. "Well what were you expecting?" asked Mr. Lucas as he danced with Miss Brahams. "The umbrella repair song?"
As everyone was having a goodtime, there was a loud blast of submachine guns as a suicidal man leaped onto the platform. "I am Father Hildalgo!" he yelled "I have come from Mexico to free the Spaniards from an oppressive regime!" With that he pressed a button and several explosives went off.
What followed was a complete stampede as everyone got out of there. Mr. Lucas grabbed Miss Brahams and Mr. Humphries and the group darted down a back ally. The trio kept running until they at last made it back to the hotel. "What was that?" asked Miss Brahams as they sat in the hotel lounge. "I don't know," said Mr. Lucas. "But something isn't right about this place. For instance, what town have you been too were people deliberately don't look you in the eye?" "Or who don't have any good alcohol," said Mr. Humphries checking the liquor cabinent." "That's not alcohol," said Miss Brahams looking at the bottle. "It's Brasso." "How can you tell?" asked Mr. Lucas. "See the label?" said Miss Brahams. "My granddad has several bottles of that stuff from his days as a steamroller driver, I'd recognize it anywhere." "So we have alcohol that isn't Alcohol, nuts firing explosives and we don't have a room," said Mr. Lucas. "This is going to be crazy.
Meanwhile, in England, Mrs. Lucas and Mrs. Humphries were meeting with the British Quartermaster who was once a boyfriend of Mrs. Lucas. "So, Q," said Mrs. Lucas. "You do think you could get somebody down to Spain to stop Mrs. Peacock?" "Well," said Q. "We do have an agent down in the area, but he's in Morocco solving a terrorist sect that has some connections with the communists in Spain." "Communists?" asked Mrs. Lucas. "Yes," said Q. "The Spanish government is very right winged and very cruel. So, there is a growing number of radical communists in Spain and from the data we have gained the Spanish people are all supportive. Where did you say your son is?" "Costa Plonka," said Mrs. Lucas. "And I think that is where Mrs. Peacock is heading as we speak." "Well the bastard that chose that place for a holiday destination should burn in hell for endangering his staff," said Q. "Costa Plonka is a hot bed for the communist movement. Almost everyone in the town supports the U.S.S.R and they hate foreigners of any type. Last year the French government had to fork over the equivalent of 9,000 pounds to Costa Plonka just to get a French mother and her three children back. It took another four thousand to get the father back." Just then the telephone rang. "Quartermaster?" said Q as he answered it. "What? All right, I'll pass the word onto Downing Street." "What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Humphries. "There were two attacks in Costa Plonka that happened one an hour ago and one twenty-five minutes ago," said Q. "Franco is furious, but the mayor of the town, Alberto, who is quite popular has told Franco not to send troops, which means that the innocents in Costa Plonka are about to go through hell." The two women looked at each other, hoping their children were all right. Then the telephone rang again. "Quartermaster," said Q. "Are you serious? Yes, I'll alert the Prime Minister." Q hung up and quickly dialed Downing street. "Hello, Prime Minister," said Q. "One of Portugal's harbors let four U.S.S.R submarines enter the port after three Portuguese battleships sunk off the coast. The harbor master has also given the Russians permission to bring their battleships in and they'll be in tomorrow. Also, Costa Plonka is becoming even more unstable. Yes sir, I totally agree." He the hung up. "Three quarters of Portugal's navy is over in Brazil and they have a skeleton crew. Hopefully we can divert the disaster." "If not?" asked Mrs. Humphries. "I don't know," said Q. "I don't know."
Mr. Rhumbold had not slept that well in years. As he woke up, he saw the sun shining, the birds singing, and a twenty-nine year old woman dressing in the morning light. "Where am I?" asked Mr. Rhumbold as he jumped out of bed before covering himself back up. "Oh, hello Tiger," said the woman. "You're on a cruise." "Am I dreaming?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "No," said the woman. "Don't you remember, you boarded with your old friend last night." The last thing Mr. Rhumbold remembered about the night before was him and Mr. Grainger bolting towards the harbor before he got socked. "Did we..? asked Mr. Rhubold. The girl smiled and nodded. "You were excellent, Cuthbert. Oh, your clothes are over there. I'll wait for you two get dressed and then we can go down to breakfast."
Downstairs, Mr. Rhumbold walked with the girl, who told him her name was Conchita. As they reached the dining hall, Mr. Rhumbold found Mr. Grainger seated at a table reading the financial times. "I'll go get us our food," said Conchita as she went over to the breakfast area as Mr. Rhumbold went over to Mr. Grainger. "Good morning, Mr. Rhumbold," said Mr. Grainger wearing a delightful smile. "Please take a seat." "Where are we?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "Welcome, to a cruise sponsored by the LaLa," said Mr. Grainger. "Mrs. Featherstone gave me first class tickets for two rooms for being such a good customer at her home for the past thirty years and I was told I could bring a friend." "Where are we going?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "America," said Mr. Grainger. "My great grand nephew Franklin Beane is getting married in Boston in eight days and I promised I'd go. Plus, this is revenge on Mr. Grace." "Revenge?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "What do you mean?" "Mr. Grace cut my pension," said Mr. Grainger. "The bastard took it away because he needed the money. So, I took him back by collecting the money for the trip Costa Plonka and using it to get a few upgrades." "Does Mrs. Grainger know you're here?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "Yes," said Mr. Grainger. "She's over in Boston now as we speak. By the way what do you think of Conchita?" "You didn't pay her?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "No sir," said Mr. Grainger. "She's repaying you. "Me?" asked Mr. Rhumbold. "Yes," said Mr. Grainger. "You probably don't remember, but when I was leading you to the docks last night, Conchita and her disgrace of a boyfriend were running to the ship when some man with a grenade jumped out. Conchita's boyfriend being the scoundrel that he is ran away leaving her there. You, being the big eared hero you are grabbed her and shielded her. She was all right, though you were knocked out for a bit and you look a bit older. But she doesn't care. She wants to be with you for the rest of your life." "Fun," said Mr. Lucas wondering how he was going to explain it to his wife. "So are the others on this ship?" "I don't know where they are," said Mr. Grainger losing his smile. "I'm worried for my juniors and Miss Brahams, though Mrs. Slocombe and Captain Peacock can kiss my ass." "Mr. Grainger," said Mr. Rhumbold as Conchita brought over some food. "Well," said Conchita. "Dig in." "Well, Mr. Rhumbold," said Mr. Grainger. "Dig in.
Back at Costa Plonka, it was now eleven forty five and the junior staff were getting ready to hit the beach. "I say we get out of here before Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe get down here," said Mr. Lucas. "I get Captain Peacock," said Miss Brahams. "But why Mrs. Slocombe? You do know she does have a bit of a crush on you despite the fact you can be a bit of a smart aleck." "Do you honestly want to see your supervisor naked?" asked Mr. Lucas just as there was loud screaming coming from the upstairs as a stampede of angry priests and tourists ran down the stairs and overwhelemed the counter. "What's the big idea of letting tourists run around naked?" asked a business man with a Texas accent. "I don't want to have someone try to start a sword fight with their penis," said a German woman "Particularly a fifty year old British man who acts like Basil Fawlty." "Yes," said Miss Brahams. "Let's get out of here."
Outside, the trio were given odd looks by many of the locals, mainly due to both Miss Brahams and Mr. Lucas both being incredibly pale and Mr. Humphries choosing the occasion to wear a bright pink thong with black polka dots. "Why do I get the feeling we're being made fun of?" asked Mr. Lucas as he saw a man pointing at them and whispering something to his friend and both laughed. "I don't know," said Miss Brahams. "A-Ha!" said a voice and out of the bushes jumped a disheveled Mrs. Peacock. She had red eyes, torn clothes and her hair was an absolute mess. "So there you are you little Cockney!" said Mrs. Peacock who seemed very close to crying. "There you are standing there in a green thong, exposed breasts and long hair and delicate skin. I bet you and Stephen had a wild night last night. "Do you think I'd want anything to do with Captain Peacock?" asked Miss Brahams. "Mrs. Peacock," said Mr. Lucas. "Miss Brahams is my girlfriend. If you want to see who Captain Peacock's with I suggest you go to room 313." Mrs. Peacock turned and ran. "Hopefully she doesn't kill Mrs. Slocombe," said Miss Brahams. "Don't you remember the Christmas party last year?" asked Mr. Lucas. "If Mrs. Slocombe can defeat four night watchmen and Mr. Lydecker from Leatherwork, she can certainly stand up to Mrs. Peacock."
Mrs. Peacock ran up all of the flights of steps to the third floor and found several annoyed people standing there. Mrs. Peacock made her way through and found the source of the commotion: A very drunk Captain Peacock pegging Mrs. Slocombe. Mrs. Peacock screamed so loudly she shattered six windows and two mirrors. Mrs. Slocombe realized she was there and quickly grabbing Stephen she ran with Mrs. Peacock chasing her.
Out on the Beach the junior staff was lying on the beach when all of a sudden the tranquil Spanish music stopped playing and Won't get fooled again started playing. Moments later, guns started going off as Spanish flags were now being burned. "I've got an idea," said Mr. Lucas. "Let's get out of here." He got up and ran to the road followed by Miss Brahams and Mr. Humphries.
At the road was a knockoff Dodge convertible that had the old column shift. Mr. Lucas leaped in with Miss Brahams sitting next to him and Mr. Humphries sitting next to the door. "Time for a little black magic," said Mr. Lucas and using what he had learned in Brighton on that faithful day back in '63 hotwired the car.
The car sped off. Guns were going off and shops were smashed and thrown. As Mr. Lucas sped out on the road, he saw a hardtop pull by that had Mrs. Slocombe driving with Captain Peacock and behind them on motor scooter was Mrs. Peacock who was gaining. "Where do we go now?" asked Miss Brahams. "We go to the port," said Mr. Lucas. "And hopefully find a boat that can take us away from here.
Mrs. Peacock's father had been one of the early stuntmen for movies in England and he had taught her how to perform a motorcycle stunt. Hoping the same principal would apply to a scooter, she drove up next to the trunk of Mrs. Slocombe car and balancing on the seat leaped from the scooter onto the car. She then smashed the window and entered the vehicle and then attempted to gain control.
Mr. Lucas, meanwhile had left the road and was now driving down a railway line. While most tracks on the Iberian Peninsula were built to a broad gauge, these were for a private railway that used Stephenson's, which made the car able to drive on them. After crossing a trestle, the group entered the marina. "All right, we'll take that boat," said Mr. Lucas pointing to a rather large vessel. He turned the car off the tracks and sped towards it.
The trio got out of the convertible and after untying the boat from the dock leaped aboard. "Allow me," said Mr. Humphries as he entered the wheelhouse. The boat quickly sailed away as the revolutionaries approached the marina. "How'd you learn that?" asked Mr. Lucas. "Why, the navy," said Mr. Humphries. "You don't think I didn't learn anything the two days I was in it, did you?"
Meanwhile after flying down backstreets at eighty miles per hour crashing through a brick wall and flying over a street, Mrs. Peacock had gained the upper hand. However, as Mrs. Peacock hit the brake the pedal came off. Mrs. Slocombe noticing this quickly jammed her foot on the gas and then stuck the transmission to fifth gear. Now the car was approaching the end of the road that ended up over a busy freight yard. "We're going to die!" said Mrs. Peacock as the car flew over the ledge.
However, the car managed to land near some tracks. Mrs. Peacock, who was somewhat dazed lay there a minute as Mrs. Slocombe grabbed Captain Peacock climbed aboard a boxvan as the train sped out. When Mrs. Peacock came to, she saw that the train was long gone and that soldiers had taken over the area. Mrs. Peacock was told that the government was close to failing and that all non Spaniards were to be sent to France. When Mrs. Peacock asked where the train was going, the soldier told her he didn't know as the railyard employees had all gone on strike.
After a day on the open water, Mr. Lucas guided the boat into Normandy Harbor. Mrs. Lucas, Mrs. Humphries, Mrs. Peacock Mr. and Mrs. Brahams and Q were all waiting for them. "So," said Q. "I heard about your adventure over the radio, to quote your employer you've all done very well." "Thank you sir," said Mr. Lucas. "So where are the others?" "Mr. Rhumbold and Mr. Grainger are on a boat that will be arriving in New York on Monday," said Mrs. Lucas. "As for Captain Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe, they were last seen on a train and no one knows where it is." Mrs. Peacock looked saddened. "Also," said Q. "Francisco Franco is dead. Juan Carlos and his family are now in England and the entire Portuguese government has been slaughtered including their families. Spain and Portugal are now part of the Soviet Union and they now have ships guarding the ports. The Americans have been notified and Gerald Ford is working on trying to get the situation fixed." "Well hope it works," said Mr. Lucas. "By the way," said Q. "Young Mr. Grace wanted to send you to Tunisia to finish your vacation," "I bet he does," said Mr. Lucas. "But," said Q with a smile. "Your parents and I talked him out of it and with the help of a generous donor you all will be finish your vacation in Brighton at the Ritz." "Well," said Mr. Lucas. "Sounds good." "Yes," said Miss Brahams. "It does"
At the Port on the Strait of Gilbralter several box vans were being loaded for transport to Cuba. As van number 34069 went up, the man on the ground guiding the crane swore he heard the sound of someone moaning inside the van.