The Ballad of Wallis Island

CHARLES (faintly): Herb!

-Uh... -CHARLES (in distance): Hello! Hello!

-Is this-- Are we here? -Herb!

Herb!

Herb!

There he is! Herb McGwyer!

I've got you on!

I've got you on now, Herb!

(music playing faintly through headphones)

Fancy a listen?!

First sign of madness.

Dearie me.

Oh! You made it okay?!

I can't hear you!

You got here okay?!

Well, yeah, obviously.

Of course you did!

No nasty, uh... the dreaded in-flight meal?

Is there not, like,

-a harbor... here? -Is there not a harbor?

Well, no!

It's sort of nature's harbor, really.

-It's, um... -Okay--

I can kind of carry you through the shallows.

-Um, can you maybe, um... -I'm Charles.

-Charles Heath. -...take a bag?

-Of course. -Thanks.

Take it.

Load me up. Load me up, buttercup.

-There it is. The old axe. -Quickly, please. It's heavy.

-That's fantastic. -Can you take it, please?

-Of course. Absolutely. -Thank you.

Yes, please. The axe.

-Love that. -Okay. S-So...

Massive fan of your work, obviously.

-So what do I do? -Thanks for coming. Oh, I'll grab this.

No, no, no, no, no! No!

-Herb. Okay. -(spits, groans)

-Right. Here. I'm so sorry, Herb. -(groans)

-Get my-- Can you get my bag?! -Get everything, isn't it?

Get everything. Keep it dry.

-Okay, we're good. Close-- -We're good?

Well, "close shave," I was going to say, not "we're good."

Right. Are you all right?

-You're wet. Oh, bugger me. -No. I mean, I...

It's 'cause I was...

pissing about with the guitar.

Oh, I'm so s-- Welcome to Wallis Island.

You don't travel light, do you, you musicians?

Well, this is the island.

I shall show you around it as we go along, really.

We have actually met, Herb.

You may not, um...

-Colchester Corn Exchange. -(sighs)

-(whispers): Come on. -The glamour. Stage door, 2008.

My, um...

Marie, a woman about...

yea high,

and a man about...

well, me, so...

with her.

Um...

Yeah, I meet a lot of people.

Course you do. Popular man.

Popular man.

How far is it?

-Huh? -How far is it?

Oh, not too far.

Can they not send a car?

-They? -Um, Wallis Lodge,

-my hotel. -Wallis Lodge, my house?

And your hotel. Yes, exactly.

This week.

A hotel in all but name.

And, um...

and, um, facilities.

-You... -You?

I-I need to call my people.

Ooh.

Love that.

Calling his people.

My humble abode.

Ooh, no, you don't need to take your shoes off, Herb.

Well, they're soaked.

Oh, yes. From the sea.

Let's get you nice and crisp and dry.

I've got a world-class bath, by the way.

Yes.

Lion's feet on it.

Not real, of course, but next best thing.

Gig-wise, it won't exactly be Glasto.

Glastonbury.

Uh, yeah, that's-that's fine.

-(grunts loudly) -I mean, I much prefer, you know,

intimate gigs.

Oh, God, yeah.

Um, how many?

-People? -Yeah.

Well, less than a hundred.

-Perfect. -Perfect.

Yeah.

Bloody good effort this, Herb.

Coming all the way out here without your roadies.

-Just an acoustic set. -Eh.

Why waste the money? Quite right.

-Well, no, I didn't-- -Which brings me on

to the thorny issue of payment.

-Hmm. (grunts) -Oh, yeah, we don't need to do that now.

It's bloody unseemly, in't it?

-Cash? -Yes.

Now, what I thought I'd do is give you

£50 now

and the other £499,950

on completion of the gig.

If my maths is correct.

Okay.

-(scoffs) -Oh.

A cool half million.

Should keep you in guitar strings for a couple of years,

you bloody mercenary.

-Well, hang on. That's not... -No, I'm just--

...the reason I'm doing the gig.

No. No, no, no. No, no, no.

This is all jokes.

I'm just joking.

Jokes included.

It's just, um...

I-I'm not really used to having guests.

I'm just trying to get some atmos going. (chuckles softly)

Uh, there's a case in point--

I've made myself a tea and not you.

Yeah, look, can I get changed, please?

-It's-- I'm drenched. -You are.

Dame Judi.

Dame Judi Drenched.

Not many musicians come to the island, Herb.

For obvious reasons,

i.e. it is admittedly remote.

And there are no stadiums or stadia.

No boutique hotels.

Well, no hotels.

There's a sort of an unofficial campsite.

You can't exactly expect Mick Hucknall

to slum it under canvas.

Kate Bush came to the island.

Herb.

But I think that was more as a retreat,

rather than as part of a tour.

She needed some peace and quiet.

And that we can offer.

-Yes. That's the beauty of this island. -(gasps)

The silence.

And, of course, the beauty.

It is a bloody beautiful island.

-You're in here. -(creaking)

-Okay, well, can you, um... -Yes.

Mm-hmm. Oh, by the way,

you've absolutely timed the ass off this, Herb.

Seaman's Day on Sunday.

Always a highlight.

Yeah, I'm just gonna lay low until the gig.

-Thank you. -Now, this tap doesn't work.

-Well, it does work. -Yes, it does work.

It works, but it sort of works...

too well, if you know what I mean.

That used to sort of drip-drip.

And now that...

more gushes.

Yes. Sorry again. If...

If these are too baggy or daggy for you.

On the plus side,

I have here in my hand a Winona.

A what?

A Winona rider.

-Your rider. -Okay.

You are now the proud Winona

-of a rider. -(unzips)

You've got yourself...

your favorite apples,