had been saying that what with credit cards and computers and something called ‘shopping on the net’ it wouldn’t be very long before paying for things with real money would be a thing of the past, but he hadn’t mentioned the possibility of having to use an oyster to get on a bus. It was no wonder he went on an underground train when he travelled to and fro from his office in the city.
With that thought uppermost in his mind, Paddington picked up his suitcase and set off for the nearest fishmongers.
Overtaking the bus which was held up by yet another hole in the road, he raised his hat to the driver, who gave him a gloomy thumbs up sign in return, and shortly afterwards, having reached a row of shops, he made for the one he had in mind. It was where Mrs Bird went whenever she was shopping for fish.
“I would like an oyster, please,” he announced, raising his hat politely to a boy behind the counter, who was busy making sure all the fish heads were facing the same way.
“There’s a young foreign gent wants an oyster,” repeated the boy over his shoulder.
“I’d like a day return one, if I may,” added Paddington, trying to be helpful.
“I’m afraid we don’t get any returns here,” said the assistant. “They’re fresh in from France twice a week and once they’re gone they’re gone…”
“In that case I’d better have two,” said Paddington. “One for going and one for coming back.”
The assistant didn’t actually say ‘we’ve got the last of the big spenders here’, but his look said it all. “I’ll have to ask the manager,” he said.
“He wants two!” he called. “One for going and one for coming back. I think it’s some kind of outing.
“We usually sell them by the dozen,” he explained, addressing Paddington, “and the only returns you get is if there’s a bad one, and if that happens you’ll wish you’d never gone wherever it was in the first place. Ho! Ho! Ho!”
“Tell him there aren’t many around at the moment,” shouted a voice from the back of the shop. “And there won’t be any at all soon when there isn’t an R in the month.”
The assistant repeated the message for Paddington’s benefit.
Paddington gave him a hard stare. “There isn’t an M in a lot of months,” he said. “But that doesn’t stop Mrs Bird giving me marmalade for breakfast.”
“Tell him we’ve got some kippers,” shouted the manager. “Fresh in this morning.”
“Can you get very far on a kipper?” asked Paddington hopefully.
“You can if you set light to its tail and hang on tight,” said the assistant. “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
“We don’t normally have oysters all through the summer,” said the manager, as he emerged from a back room to see what was going on. “It’s the breeding season.”
“It must make travelling difficult in August,” said Paddington.
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