A half day in the life of The Grey Cardigan
10:00 am
The Grey Cardigan entered the office with his grey cardigan hugging his shoulder in a continental manner, he knew it was an arrogant look but it set off the yellow Fred Perry nicely. His long ginger hair had been tied back with the aid of a scrunchy and two bangles hung either side to frame his face. In his mouth was a shiny black cigarette holder without a cigarette.
"How do you do dear fellow" Grey said to acknowledge his colleague as he passed his desk. "Do you know that its rather splendid outside today, rather splendid indeed old boy"
The rest of his co-workers were not surprised by his mid day arrival, he had become known for his lack of ability to roll up his sleeves and get on with the job in hand.
"One went for a spot of tea in London this morning, most refreshing, most re-fresh-en-ing" Grey continued. By the time of his arrive his colleagues had already undone all of the mistakes he had committed yesterday and somehow caught up with their own work. Grey was a waster, but sleeping with the boss was doing wonders for his career and his previous role as an adult movie star was paying dividends. He had recently celebrated his promotion to an F grade with a case of champagne, which his colleagues had readily devoured despite the companies ban on alcohol and despite their feelings towards him.
As he sat back at his desk he raised his feet and crossed them as he rested them on his teak finished surface, a non-standard desk flown in from Indonesia especially for him. "One just adores, no loves the oil finish of teak." he would be heard to say whenever anyone questioned the £2000 extravagance, let alone the £500 annual oiling expense.
It became mid afternoon, Grey woke from his nap and on his desk was a white envelope, casually pasted in the top right hand corner was a stamp and the envelope had been hand written. Grey picked up his antique letter opener and began to open the letter, a profusion of lemon verbena erupted underneath his nose as he read the immortal words "Dear Grey"
One glimpse of the spidery handwriting was enough to trigger an astonishing reaction within TGC.
He felt like he'd had the wind literally knocked out of him. He described the feeling as being 'Hit for six' in his autobiography written 20 years later. Incidentally 'Hit for Six' was turned into a BAFTA award winning BBC drama starring Daniel Radcliffe.
TGC fumbled the letter back into the Manila envelope. Coincidentally, the letter had come from Manila, a place TGC had thought he would never have to think of again. The business had been "taken care of", it was 'done and dusted guvnor' That's what 'they' had told him.
His heart skipped a beat and his brain sent a text to his bowels warning them to prepare for imminent overtime.
Long since forgotten feelings of dread and guilt returned to haunt him. He felt sick to the core.
After throwing up all over the teak desk, TGC shakily pressed the intercom and summoned his camp but efficient secretary Nigel Lemons. Lemons immediately entered the office and for a brief moment looked shocked and stunned as he observed the pile of spew on the once pristine desk in front of him. The smell of sour milk lay heavy in the air, but Lemons, with his large flared nostrils twitching with unease, simply acted as if this sort of thing was an every day occurrence and carried on.
"Did Sir require anything?"
"Lemons, I need you to get in touch with Paulo Cardosioni. Tell him to meet me at the usual place tomorrow morning at 11:00 a.m. Tell him a life depends on it"
Lemons, pencil in hand, scribbled the instructions onto an A5 notepad and then repeated them back in his camp nasal twang. "Paulo Cardosioni, 11:00 a.m usual place. Straight away Sir'
Lemons shuffled out the room, efficiently of course. He alone knew that in TGC's third draw down was a collection of empty coke cans, and in the fourth draw a loaded gun. Lemons was wearing no pants and had eaten a bowl of Kellogg's Common sense for breakfast. Although interesting it has nothing to do with the plot.
11:10am
"Behold!" shouted a street vendor, "thou hast ne’er seen such a bargain as this, indeed I bring forth a deal of legend! Legend told behind closed doors, past down from generation to generation. Draw nearer least you miss a word, draw closer still..."
Grey watched the street vendor weave his magic sitting outside Cafe Nero drinking a cafe latte, he only needed two more stamps before he got a free one. He was quite chuffed about that. He looked up and down the street for the hundredth time watching out for Paulo, looked at this watch again and sighed. Paulo was late, but then he was always late for this sort of meeting. Grey would much rather get things over with sooner rather than later. He looked over again at the street vendor which had managed to amass quite the crowd.
"Do not fear fair people, soon I will unleash this sale of the century upon you. Some of you my need to sit down for I do ponder the very shock of realisation may send you flying from your feet! I feel the time is upon us one and all, prepare yourself." The street vendor opened his bag, "five lighters for a pound! Get five lighters for a pound!"
The crowd quickly dispersed.
