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.She carried on.“So we’re leaving on the Wontdetainia, heading to America to make our fortunes.And hey, perhaps someone is trying to stop us.How about that? So we’re happy, but we’re also just that little bit anxious.”“We’re eloping, then, are we?”“Yes, yes.My father hates you, thinks you’ll never amount to anything, and he wants me to marry a vicar, with a big hook of a nose, like a beak…”On and on we went, embellishing this little tale, until you’d have thought the whole Wontdetainia sketch was going to be about the two of us.Our pan-faced hostess eventually made her displeasure at our dragging out a single pot of tea for the whole afternoon too plain to be ignored, and I paid and we made our exit.Tilly popped off to visit the friend who had been out earlier, so I nipped into a hostelry called the Saracen’s Head for a swift couple of jars and then made my way to the theatre, feeling much better about life.Yes, things were definitely looking up.I turned into the alley which led to the stage door … and saw a fire engine standing there.The theatre was on fire!I started to run up the alley.The firemen, three of them, were leaning on the back of their wagon, smoking cigarettes, which they’d hardly do in an emergency.I nodded to them as I squeezed past, and saw that a broad hosepipe was leading from the engine into the theatre, holding the door open.Intrigued, I followed the pipe, which led up to the back of the stage, all the while becoming aware of a pumping noise getting louder and louder.I stepped out from the wings onto the apron and there, in all its glory, was the Wontdetainia, rocking back and forth as though cresting a mighty Atlantic swell.The hydraulic rams were operating at full capacity, thanks – it turned out – to the extra water pressure supplied by the fire brigade.“Not bad, eh?” said a voice behind me.I walked to the front of the stage, shielding my hands against the lights, and peered down into the darkened stalls.A figure was standing there, a stocky, dapper little fellow, hands on hips, surveying his handiwork.“Mister Karno,” I said.He raised a quizzical eyebrow.“I’m Arthur Dandoe,” I said.“And what are you doing here, Arthur Dandoe?” Karno said, his tone ever so slightly mocking.“Well, um, I’m to be on the ship,” I burbled.“I’m a super.”“I’m sure you are,” the boss replied, turning on his immaculately shod heel.“I’m sure you are just as a-super as can a-be.Well, things to do, people to sack, on we go!” he cried, giving me a little wave as he went on his way.“Mister Karno,” I heard myself shouting after him.He turned at the rear of the stalls and looked back at me.“I’m Arthur Dandoe.We met in Cambridge.I wrote.You said to come.I came.”I stopped.The world stopped.Karno began to walk slowly back to me.“Well, well, well!” he said.“Well, well, well, well, well.It’s the young man who was etten by the giant dinosaur, is it not?”“That’s right, sir,” I said, my heart hammering.“I said to come and you came,” he said.“And now you’re one of my supers, is that it? And what have you done for me so far, Arthur Dandoe?”“Well, I … um, nothing, onstage, yet,” I twittered.“I’ve been here two w-weeks and the whole time I’ve been painting that.” I pointed at the good old Wontdetainia, lurching away on the stage.“So tell me this, Arthur Dandoe,” Karno said, fixing me with a gimlet gaze.“Why did you come? Hmm? To be a painter?”Only one thought came to me and I blurted out: “You said I had ‘it’!”Karno grinned.“I did, didn’t I? I said you had ‘it’.I recall t’ conversation now.I don’t say that often, you know, and I’ll tell you another thing, when I do say it, I’m hardly ever wrong.”He paused for a moment, turning something over in his head, it seemed to me.“Well, now, if you’ve got ‘it’ we can’t waste you as a super, can we, or painting scenery? That’d be nothing short of criminal – or do you like it on t’ very bottom rung?”“No, sir,” I said, hoping that was the right answer.“Remember this, Arthur Dandoe.It’s up to you, it’s always up to you.No one else.It’s your responsibility.You must push yourself forward.Make yourself heard.Stick your head up above the crowd.You need to get to the next rung, then climb over whoever’s in front of you to get there.Push yourself forward.”I put on a determined expression, which seemed appropriate, and nodded enthusiastically.“Come and see me in t’ morning, ten sharp.We’ll see what we can do with you.”“Thank you, Mister Karno.”“Call me ‘Guv’nor’.Everyone does.” He gave a little wink, smiled and was about to head off again, but I must have been emboldened by his words, because I said: “Er, Guv’nor?”“What now?”“It’s just that … you have the fire engine’s pump connected up to your hydraulic rams there…”“I have, and I’ve brought those lads all the way from Merryweathers of Long Acre to do it.What of it?”“Well, last summer the fire brigade came to the college where I worked,” I said.“And connected up their pump to the college plumbing by mistake, and it was very powerful.Burst some of the pipes, blew one old don clean off the water closet.”Karno smirked.Old Mr Kirkham, it was, who’d ended up in First Court, soaked through, with his trousers round his ankles, looking for his spectacles [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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