scrub. Those fleas on St Mark's don't get any better.' Bird grimaced mildly at the tangled scalp. Mrs Flagg said: 'Just imagine, dear, what happened this time?'
'What happened, Mrs Flagg?' asked Bird dutifully beginning to lather the screwed hair.
'We've got Tom Ya‑Ya, the chief, to agree to six of his chaps coming over to stay at our house so that we can really study them at first hand over a long period. Isn't that bewitching!'
'Bewitching,' agreed Bird. 'Are they going to put any clothes on themselves? All the natives here on St Peter's wear something.'
'A delicate point, dear,' admitted Mrs Flagg from under the froth. Lumps of tree and creeper, other jungle debris, and an insect with a million legs, had already emerged from her hair. 'Bert said they should wear shorts. But I say they are quite decent enough. a trifle exotic of course, but that is why they are so worth our study. They have their baloots, their banana wraps, you know, and these do quite effectively cover them up. As I said to Bert, we would never get shorts that would fit them around the waist while they retained their baloots, and they most certainly would not abandon them, even if we wished it.'
Bird switched on the radio. Like everyone else in the archipelago she sensed that it was ten o'clock and reached to hear Radio Apostle which had only enough power to broadcast for two hours a day, an hour in English and an hour in French. George Turtle read the English news, local and international, the latter sometimes nearer history, and then played some record requests before going home to Minnie for lunch.
On days when The Baffin Bay arrived there was a good deal more news than usual because Captain MacAndrews brought the Sydney papers with him, so George broadcast an extended bulletin. There was no other station in the Pacific strong enough to reach Sexagesima, except Honoraria in the Solomons when freak receiving conditions were prevailing.
The station always played itself in and out with the two National Anthems. This always embarrassed Bird a little but she encouraged her customers to remain seated, particularly if they were under the hair drier, unless they insisted on doing so. She more or less knew the ladies who liked to stand to attention, and there was a small determined group of them, pre‑war dual colonists for whom the monarch, or the president, the flag, and the anthem, were more important to life than even dry gin. Mrs Flagg, despite her name, was not one of these and she remained round and bowed under Bird's working hands while the various small travellers from St Mark's evacuated her hair like animals leaving a blazing forest.
But Bird heard the scraping of the chairs in the cafd forecourt outside and knew that Mr Hassey, Mr Livesley, and Mr Kendrick were stiffly standing, the rain steam still rising about them, looking squarely in the general direction of London, and ready to raise their morning glasses to Her Majesty the moment the radio record ground to a stop.
Today they were surprised by the music being snatched away far more quickly than usual, while their eyes were still far away and their glasses only ready at the waist. George's voice rushed on to the air before The Queen was properly remembered and toasted. Mr Hassey looked at the red plastic‑covered transistor radio on the table with some disagreeable surprise.
'This is Radio Apostle broadcasting on 243 metres,' gabbled George Turtle. 'And here, immediately, is the news. Some special news. I ‑ that is, we ‑ have just received a message from Sir William Findlay‑Stayers, the Governor, that a special meeting of the Amglo‑French Condominium for the islands, and the Sexagesima Town Council, has been called for this evening at seven o'clock in the assembly building. The meeting will be open to the public. The Governor has an important announcement to make.'
No one around the damp little table heard any more. The three men regarded each other like card players who
'What happened, Mrs Flagg?' asked Bird dutifully beginning to lather the screwed hair.
'We've got Tom Ya‑Ya, the chief, to agree to six of his chaps coming over to stay at our house so that we can really study them at first hand over a long period. Isn't that bewitching!'
'Bewitching,' agreed Bird. 'Are they going to put any clothes on themselves? All the natives here on St Peter's wear something.'
'A delicate point, dear,' admitted Mrs Flagg from under the froth. Lumps of tree and creeper, other jungle debris, and an insect with a million legs, had already emerged from her hair. 'Bert said they should wear shorts. But I say they are quite decent enough. a trifle exotic of course, but that is why they are so worth our study. They have their baloots, their banana wraps, you know, and these do quite effectively cover them up. As I said to Bert, we would never get shorts that would fit them around the waist while they retained their baloots, and they most certainly would not abandon them, even if we wished it.'
Bird switched on the radio. Like everyone else in the archipelago she sensed that it was ten o'clock and reached to hear Radio Apostle which had only enough power to broadcast for two hours a day, an hour in English and an hour in French. George Turtle read the English news, local and international, the latter sometimes nearer history, and then played some record requests before going home to Minnie for lunch.
On days when The Baffin Bay arrived there was a good deal more news than usual because Captain MacAndrews brought the Sydney papers with him, so George broadcast an extended bulletin. There was no other station in the Pacific strong enough to reach Sexagesima, except Honoraria in the Solomons when freak receiving conditions were prevailing.
The station always played itself in and out with the two National Anthems. This always embarrassed Bird a little but she encouraged her customers to remain seated, particularly if they were under the hair drier, unless they insisted on doing so. She more or less knew the ladies who liked to stand to attention, and there was a small determined group of them, pre‑war dual colonists for whom the monarch, or the president, the flag, and the anthem, were more important to life than even dry gin. Mrs Flagg, despite her name, was not one of these and she remained round and bowed under Bird's working hands while the various small travellers from St Mark's evacuated her hair like animals leaving a blazing forest.
But Bird heard the scraping of the chairs in the cafd forecourt outside and knew that Mr Hassey, Mr Livesley, and Mr Kendrick were stiffly standing, the rain steam still rising about them, looking squarely in the general direction of London, and ready to raise their morning glasses to Her Majesty the moment the radio record ground to a stop.
Today they were surprised by the music being snatched away far more quickly than usual, while their eyes were still far away and their glasses only ready at the waist. George's voice rushed on to the air before The Queen was properly remembered and toasted. Mr Hassey looked at the red plastic‑covered transistor radio on the table with some disagreeable surprise.
'This is Radio Apostle broadcasting on 243 metres,' gabbled George Turtle. 'And here, immediately, is the news. Some special news. I ‑ that is, we ‑ have just received a message from Sir William Findlay‑Stayers, the Governor, that a special meeting of the Amglo‑French Condominium for the islands, and the Sexagesima Town Council, has been called for this evening at seven o'clock in the assembly building. The meeting will be open to the public. The Governor has an important announcement to make.'
No one around the damp little table heard any more. The three men regarded each other like card players who
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