My Beautiful Wif... Just now
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is 1938, in the popular seaside resort of Brighton on a Bank Holiday Hale playing the part of
Kolly Kibber works for The Daily Messenger newspaper giving out cards for prizes to the holiday
crowd But he has something else on this mind
HALE new, before he had been in Brighton three hours, that they meant to murder him. Whe
inky fingers and his bien als his manner cynical and nervous, anybody could tell he didn't be
- belong to the early summer sun, the cool Whitsun wnd off the sea, the holiday crowd.
They came in by train from Victoria every five minutes, rocked down un's Road standing on
5 tops of the
bewildered multitudes into fresh and glitteringar the
water-colour, a race in miniature motors, a band playing fower gardens in bloom below the from
aeroplane advertising something for the health in pole vanishing clouds across the sky
had seemed quite easy to Hale to be lost in Brighton. Fly thousand people besides himself
a while he gave himself up to the good day, drinking gins and to
wherever his
Queen's Road and Castle Square, from eleven twelve the Aquarium and Palace Pier, twelve
restaurant he chose round the Castle Square, and after that he had to make his way at down
on the front between the Old Ship and West Pier, back for lunch between one and two in any
15 parade to West Per and then to the station by the Hove streets
Advertised on every Messenger poster "Kolley Kibber in Brighton today. In his pocket he had
packet of cards to distribute in hidden places Nong his route: those who found them would rem
son shilings from the Messenger, but the big price was reserved for who ever challenged Hate
proper form of words and with a copy of the Messenger in his hand: "You are Mr. Kolley Kibbe
20 claim the Daily Messenger prize
This was Male's job to keep doing his duty unti a challenger released him, in every seaside
tum: yesterday Southend, today Brighton tomorrow -
He drank his gin and tonic hastily as a clock struck eleven, and moved out of Castle Square
Kibber always played fair, always wore the same kind of hat as in the photograph the Messe
25 printed was ways on time. Yesterday in Southend he had been unchallenged the paper
savets guineus'occasionally but not too often. It was his duty today to be spotted and it was
incination too. There were reasons why he didn't feel too sale in Brighton, even in a Whitsur
He leant against the rail near the Palace Pier and showed his face to the crowd as it uncoile
30 quiety. They had stood all the way from Victoria in crowded carriages, they would have to w
endlessly past him, like a twisted piece of wire, two by two, each with an air of sober and de
streets and the closed pubs and the weary walk home. With immense labour and immense
que es for lunch, at midnight hall sleep they would rock back in trains an hour late to the
they extricated from the long day the grain of pleasure this sun, this music, the rattle of the
cars, the ghost train diving between the grinning skeletons under the Aquarium promenade
35 sticks of Brighton rock, the paper salors caps
Nobody paid any attention to Hale: no one seemed to be carrying a Messenger. He deposit
his cards carefully on the top of a ne basket and moved on, with his bitten nails and his
alone
a houses ran the a Victorian
10 down for he had to stick closely to a programme from ten till