Read All The Nice Girls for Free Online Page A

recognise a little tin god when he saw one. He could also recognise, with some inward qualms, the man who had been the occupant of the grey Rolls that morning.
    Major Sir Rollo Falcon Hennessy-Gilbert, M.C., T.D., Bart., formerly of the Irish Guards but now Justice of the Peace, Chairman of Oozemouth Conservative Association, President of Oozemouth Chamber of Commerce, Captain of Oozemouth Racquets Club, Commodore of the Royal Oozemouth Yacht Club, Master of the Beaufortshire Forest Hounds, President of Oozemouth Harriers R.F.C., and Governor of St Edward’s Grammar School, Oozemouth, was also chairman and managing director of Harvey McNichol & Drummond (S. & E.) Co. Ltd. Furthermore, he was a nephew of old Lady Drummond, a nonagenarian who still owned a proportion of the company’s shares and who lived some miles outside Oozemouth in a Victorian castle surrounded by thickets and gigantic rhododendrons which secluded her in mystery worthy of the Oracle at Delphi. (Old Lady Drummond’s employees, none of whom had ever seen her, often speculated on her seclusion. The apprentices believed it was because she was being held ransom by a gang of international crooks; the yard managers contended that she had never really recovered from the shock of the Abdication; while Mr Tybalt maintained that she was merely sobering up after the news that Mafeking was relieved). In her absence, her nephew ruled Harvey McNichol & Drummond with the absolute power of a Mogul emperor. Mr Tybalt, who had the most frequent dealings with Sir Rollo for the Admiralty, had found him an unpredictable and dangerous man. While waiting to enter Sir Rollo’s presence Mr Tybalt had often felt that he was about to discuss an Admiralty contract with Surajah Dowlah and that he should first have safeguarded himself by bringing with him Happy Day and Sid Burlap, as hostages, in chains.
    The proceedings were opened by Sir Rollo himself. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said ponderously. His red-rimmed eyes under their overhanging eyebrows travelled sardonically along the row of Admiralty men opposite him. ‘We meet in very happy circumstances. Once more we have one of the Sovereign’s submarines in Harvey McNichol & Drummond’s yard. May I, on behalf of the firm, welcome Commander . . . Commander . . .’
    ‘ Badger ,’ said The Bodger, in a resonant voice.
    Sir Rollo paused and looked along the table. His eyes met The Bodger’s in a glare of ferocious recognition.
    ‘ . . . Commander Badger and his officers to this shipyard.’ Sir Rollo spoke for some time. He spoke of the ‘dawning of a new era on Oozeside,’ of ‘adding one more jewel to Oozemouth’s crown of lustre’ and, without warmth, of ‘extending the warm hand of friendship towards Commander Badger and his officers.’ Most of Sir Rollo’s audience had heard him make substantially the same speech many times before. The shipyard men listened, or appeared to listen, with expressionless faces (as long as the old bastard gave nothing away, he could talk on as long as he liked). Mr Tybalt listened with more attention. His ears were cocked for the tell-tale phrases in Sir Rollo’s peroration. Mr Tybalt knew from experience that the sting would be in the tail. If Sir Rollo ended ‘the great resources of this great shipyard must be fully utilised to give this Sovereign’s ship a fresh start in life,’ then Mr Tybalt knew he could relax. His job was a sinecure. Seahorse would get a good refit - or Harvey McNichol & Drummond heads would roll. But if Sir Rollo ended ‘every endeavour therefore must, and will, be made to make this job an undertaking worthy of Harvey McNichol and Drummond craftsmen,’ then Mr Tybalt knew that, so far as Sir Rollo was concerned, H.M.S. Seahorse for all practical purposes did not exist and he, Mr Tybalt, was faced with a long exhausting struggle to get the ship out of the yard bearing any resemblance at all to an operational submarine.
    Dagwood lost the thread of Sir Rollo’s