by Alan Hackney
So, declaring to the great-aunts that he was going away, Stanley pointed the bubble car out of London.
*
“Well, Stanley,” said his father, “it’s nice to see you again. You look as if you could do with a bit of sun. What time do you aim to go back?”
“I don’t think I am, Father,” said Stanley. “Do you mind?”
“My dear boy, not a bit,” said his father. “I think you’re very sensible.”
They had a quiet meal together and watched the little world of Sunnyglades go by.
“You know,” said his father, “we’re starting a campaign to stop all these houses encroaching on us. Disgraceful. There’s not much of Surrey left, you know.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“Trouble is, everyone’s very busy here, one way and another, and we haven’t been able to get anyone to be secretary of it. I don’t suppose you would?”
“Well, yes. In a day or two.”
“Good. Ah, here comes the sun.”
Stanley did not have tremendous hopes of the success of the campaign, but he determined to do his best to keep the world away. He had found a lost cause to fight for, and felt at home.
In a few days Mr Mahomrned joined the Sunnyglades community. He had asked for, and been granted, political asylum. His £20,000 cut on the rocket contract would last him comfortably much longer than the £2500 Stanley received by parcel post from a grateful Cox.
The strike did end, two days later, and for a day or two Cox had been left with the rockets on his hands. Naturally, this did not last for long. Cox sold them to the Solomonians.
Kitey, who bitterly opposed a return to work in almost any circumstances, was overridden by the National Execu-tive of his union, depressed by the defection of Cynthia to the entertainment industly, and infuriated by the continued frivolousness of Mrs Kite. Bent on recovering his self-esteem, he drew out half his savings and left for a long recuperative holiday in the Soviet Union.
Wallace Hardy-Freeman’s return to Bangkok was simply accelerated by the breakdown of the Coloured Conference, a breakdown which the Daily Rapid jubilantly reminded its readers it had always forecast. No more of this folly, it urged, and invited its readers to salute some Americans who had immigrated to Britain.
Uncle Bertram, from what Stanley heard from time to time, seemed each time to be doing better and better.
The Solomonians, after a suitable stay to rub in their superiority, withdrew from Agyppia with their booty.
At a distance, it all looked very satisfactory.
And Stanley kept his distance.
About the Author
Alan Hackney (1924–2009) wrote over thirty screenplays and numerous television scripts, and wrote for Punch for many years. He was best known for the films that were based upon his two novels, Private’s Progress and I’m All Right Jack (first published as Private Life). The screenplay of I’m All Right Jack won him a Bafta award in 1959.
Copyright
This ebook edition first published in 2011
by Faber and Faber Ltd
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
All rights reserved
© Alan Hackney, 1958
The right of Alan Hackney to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–0–571–27739–1