Vintage Stuff by Tom Sharpe Page A

spot a dog-pat when it was staring him in the face?'
    'Well, as a matter of fact I don't...' began Glodstone, only to be interrupted by the Major

who was shifting his posterior on what appeared to be a semi-inflated plastic lifebelt. 'Another

thing. The Head don't know, so for Lord's sake don't mention a word. The blighter's only too

anxious to find an excuse for closing the OU course down. Can't afford to lose my job.'
    'You can rely on me,' said Glodstone. 'Is there anything I can get you?'
    The Major nodded. 'A couple of bottles of whisky. Can't ask Matron to get it for me. Bad

enough having her help me to the loo, and then she hangs about outside asking if I need any help.

I tell you, old boy, everything they say about passing razor blades is spot-on.'
    'I'll see to the whisky,' said Glodstone, not wishing to pursue this line of conversation any

further. It was obvious that the Major was a broken reed as far as the great adventure was

concerned. He went downstairs in search of Peregrine. He had no difficulty. The sound of shots

coming from the small-arms range indicated where Peregrine was. Glodstone found him using a .22

to puncture the centre of a target. For a moment he watched with delight and then stepped

forward.
    'Gosh, sir, it's good to see you,' said Peregrine enthusiastically and scrambled to his feet,

'I thought you'd left.'
    Glodstone switched his monocle to his good eye. 'Something's turned up. The big show,' he

said.
    Peregrine looked puzzled. 'The big show, sir?'
    Glodstone looked cautiously round the range before replying. 'The call to action,' he said

solemnly. 'I can't give any details except to say that it's a matter of life and death.'
    'Gosh, sir, you mean '
    'Let's just say I've been asked to help. Now, as I understand it, your folks are in Italy and

you've nothing on.'
    For a moment Peregrine's literal mind struggled with the statement before he caught its

meaning. 'No, sir, I've been trying to phone my uncle but I can't get through.'
    'In which case you won't be missed. That's number one. Number two is we've three weeks in

which to do the job. I take it you've got a passport.'
    Peregrine shook his head. Glodstone polished his monocle thoughtfully. 'In that case we'll

have to think of something.'
    'You mean we're going abroad?'
    'To France,' said Glodstone, 'that is, if you're game. Before you answer, you must know that

we'll be acting outside the law with no holds barred. I mean, it won't be any picnic'
    But Peregrine was already enthralled. 'Of course I'm game, sir. You can count me in.'
    'Good man,' said Glodstone and clapped him on the shoulder. 'Now as to a passport, I have an

idea. Didn't Mr Massey take the fifth-form French to Boulogne last year?'
    'Yes sir.'
    'And Barnes had flu and couldn't go. If I'm not wrong, the Bursar said he'd kept his temporary

visitor's passport back. It could be he still has it in his office.'
    'But I don't look a bit like Barnes.'
    Glodstone smiled. 'You will by the time you cross,' he said, 'We'll see to that. And now for

weapons. You don't by any chance have the key to armoury, do you?'
    'Well, yes sir. The Major said I could keep my eye in so long as I didn't blow my head

off.'
    'In that case, we'll pay the gunroom a visit. We need to go armed and two revolvers won't be

missed.'
    'They will, sir,' said Peregrine. 'The Major always checks the guns.'
    'I can't see him doing it in his present condition,' said Glodstone. 'Still, I don't like

going unprepared.'
    For once Peregrine had the answer. 'There's a smashing shop for replica guns in Birmingham,

sir. I mean if we '
    'Splendid,' said Glodstone. 'The Major wants some whisky. We can kill two birds with one

stone.'
    That evening the substitutions were made and two .38 Webleys with several hundred rounds of

ammunition were stored in cardboard boxes beneath the seats of the Bentley. And the problem of

the passport had been solved too. Glodstone had found