Bird by not eating her lunch down to the very last mouthful.
“I’m afraid,” said the lady in the cash desk at the Podium Super Cinema, “you can’t come in. It’s an ‘A’ film.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Paddington, looking puzzled.
“‘A’,” said the lady.
“Eh?” repeated Paddington, looking even more puzzled. “But that’s what I said.”
“Not ‘eh’,” said the lady impatiently. “‘A’. That means bears under sixteen aren’t allowed in unaccompanied.”
“Sixteen!” exclaimed Paddington, hardly able to believe his ears. “Sixteen! But I’m only two. That’s another fourteen years. I might not even want to come then.”
“Well, that’s the law,” said the lady sternly. She looked down with some distaste at the top of Paddington’s hat. It still had one or two pieces of river weed sticking to it and the warmth of the cinema was bringing out the smell. “Now, come along, please,” she said hastily. “You’re holding up the queue.
“And no coming back later on wearing long trousers,” she called as Paddington turned to go. “I know all the tricks.”
Paddington felt most disappointed as he made his way slowly across the foyer. There was a nice warm feeling about the cinema and he particularly liked the way his feet sank into the thick pile of the carpet. After staring hungrily at the sweet counter for a few moments he made his way towards the entrance, giving the attendant a hard stare as the man held the door open for him.
Paddington had never been to the pictures before. In fact he wasn’t at all sure what they were. But he enjoyed anything new and for some weeks he had been saving hard out of the one pound a week bun money Mr Brown gave him, in case an interesting programme came along.
Paddington was a bear who liked getting his money’s worth and he’d carefully studied the advertisements outside the Podium until this week, when there was a ‘Super Double Feature’ programme showing—with two long films, a cartoon and a newsreel. Not only that, but a notice outside said there was a special added attraction that evening when Reginald Clove would be playing the theatre organ during the intervals.
Paddington hung about outside the cinema for several minutes breathing heavily on the glass until he caught sight of a policeman watching him suspiciously and then he hurried home. It was all most disappointing and his carefully saved coins were burning a hole in his duffle coat pocket.
“Do you mean to say you’ve never been to the pictures, Paddington?” said Mr Brown over tea that afternoon.
“Never,” said Paddington firmly, as he helped himself to a crumpet. “And now I can’t go for another fourteen years unless I’m accompanied.”
Mr Brown looked at his wife. “It’s a long time since we all went to the pictures, Mary,” he said. “And it’s still quite early. Shall we go?”
“Gosh, Dad – let’s!” exclaimed Jonathan and Judy together.
“Do you think it’s a good programme, Paddington?” asked Mrs Brown.
“Very good, Mrs Brown,” said Paddington knowledgeably. “There’s a cowboy film and a cartoon and an ‘I beg your pardon film’ as well.”
“A what film?” exclaimed Mr Brown.
“An ‘I beg your pardon film’,” repeated Paddington. “That means bears under sixteen aren’t allowed in by themselves.”
“Oh, you mean an ‘A’ film,” said Jonathan.
“That’s right,” agreed Paddington. “That’s what I said.”
The Browns looked at one another. Sometimes it was a bit difficult explaining things to Paddington.
“And there’s a man playing the organ,” continued Paddington. “It’s a special attraction – so I think it’s a good bargain, Mr Brown.”
“That settles it,” said Mr Brown, looking at his watch. “It all sounds much too good to miss.”
Immediately the whole house was in an uproar. Paddington was sent upstairs by Mrs Bird to wash the crumpet stains off his whiskers while the rest of the family hurried off to their respective rooms to change.
Paddington felt very superior some half an hour later when they all trooped into the Podium Cinema. He raised his hat to the doorkeeper and then led Mr Brown in the direction of the cash desk.
“I’m accompanied now,” he called out to the lady in charge.
The lady stared at Mr Brown. “I beg your pardon?” she exclaimed. She sniffed and gave him a very strange look. It was most odd but she could distinctly smell fish again.
“What did you say?” she repeated.
“Nothing,” said Mr Brown hastily. “Er… I’d like three and three halves for the front row of the circle, please.”
“Hurry up, Dad,” called Jonathan. “I think the other programme’s nearly finished.”
Leaving the lady in the cash desk looking most upset, Mr Brown gathered up a long string of tickets and joined the rest of the family as they hurried up the stairs leading to the circle.
They went up and up and Paddington soon lost count of the number of steps. In fact there were so many he almost wished they had gone downstairs instead. Not only that, but as he followed the Browns through the entrance to the circle he discovered it was all dark inside.
“This way, please,” said the usherette, as she led the way down some stairs and shone her torch along a row of seats in the front row. “You’re lucky. There are just six left together.”
“Thank you very much,” said Mrs Brown, as she made her way along the row. “Excuse me, please. Excuse me. Thank you very much.”
She sat down and arranged herself comfortably as the others joined her.
“That’s a bit of luck,” whispered Mr Brown. “Finding six together.”
“Seven,” said Mrs Brown. “There’s still another one between us.”
“So there is!” whispered Mr Brown, groping in the dark. “That’s odd. The girl said there were only six.” He looked along the row. “Where’s Paddington?”
“Paddington?” exclaimed Mrs Brown. “Isn’t he with you, Henry?”
“No,” replied Mr Brown. “I thought you had him.”
“Oh, crumbs,” groaned Judy. “Trust Paddington to get lost.”
“Where
