Exit

When the three men left the church about half an hour later, the mood between them seemed to have become calmer.

"Well Hewson," the Major said, "I must say the premises seem pretty much perfect. There've been no problems getting the deal finalised, I take it?"

"No, it's all in hand," replied Bob. "Of course, by rights we shouldn't really be looking round the place on our own till we get the keys. Strictly speaking the estate agent should be with is - but, well, Bob's an old mate; he doesn't mind turning a blind eye."

"Jolly good, jolly good."

"Er, Major," asked Armstrong, "is there something else we can call you? It seems very formal, if you see what I mean."

The Major thought for a moment. "Well, you can call me Algernon if you prefer."

"Oh, er, right."

"It's not my name, you understand - but if it makes you feel happier, you can call me it. No? Right. Well, shall we just stick with Major, then? Jolly good."

Bob Hewson finished locking the heavy doors. Then, realising he was still carrying the heavy bag, he handed it to Armstrong.

"Right then," said the Major, rubbing his palms together. "I trust you've found me somewhere decent to stay. Perhaps you gentlemen would lead the way, and then join me for a drink?"

This was something they could all agree on.



Story starts here.