We met Mary on time, and we caught our plane home with no problems.
We arrived in London, sped to Lord Hellthwaites private club, he and daughter were tearfully reunited (well, we interupted an informal meeting and Lord Hellthwaites accountant was there … he took one look at the money-grabbing Mary and promptly began to sob like a baby).
Lord Hellthwaite took Deadfast aside for a moment, and when he came back he had a big Cheshire-cat grin on his face, and was clutching what looked like a pair of tickets and, if I wasn’t mistaken, a folded piece of paper. Had he recieved a letter?
“Walter, the bet is off…” he declared, putting an arm around me and steering me outside. “However, the week has been prosperous for us!”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
It turns out that Deadfast wouldn’t be getting a holiday home in Hawaii after all.
He did, however, get two tickets for an around-the-world cruise.
I couldn’t see why he was so happy about this, but he WAS happy and, oddly, he hadn’t had a drink for at least two hours.
It didn’t take us long to get home, get changed, grab clothing, and we were off … all a bit hurried if you ask me, but a free holiday is a free holiday. One can’t complain.
Well, Deadfast did a little, but only because he couldn’t find his bucket and spade.
So, I’m typing this whilst sitting on the deck of the boat (ship, ocean liner, glorified dingy, whatever you wish to refer to it as), and I have a Strawberry Daquiri by my side, a straw hat on my head, a pair of bermuda shorts on, and a charming young man has just winked at me from across the pool.
There is, without any shadow of a doubt, something decidedly fishy going on here.
Oh well … Deadfast is off somewhere trying to get us invited to the Captain’s table for dinner, so I’ve some time to myself.
Now, where did that young man go…?