“See Captain Midlands out would you, Miss Defarge”
The petite Hit-Girl held the door for the visibly ruffled officer and motioned for him not to dawdle.
Lord Fluffy, who had not been officially ennobled, yet regarding his self appointed title as no more than his due, addressed Mad Jack:
“So what have you to offer, and what are you doing on my island?”
“One was holidaying with one’s other half and Jack Jr when your invasion began. These revolutionaries will be planning a counter attack. One knows them, fought them on the barricade in Cable Street. Thought one might be able to help.” Mad Jack frowned, “You had that secretary long? She seems a bit short and furry to be a ‘Miss Defarge’, what?”
“Thérèse? I got her from a local secretarial agency when my personal secretary went down with alcohol poisoning. She’s pretty efficient and a wizard at filing my top secret papers.”
“Hmm… Well… Now about these guerrilla chappies you’re having so much trouble with; one thought one might lead a sort of Chindit type force into the bush to hunt them down. Tally Ho and all that. Lots of sweaty testosterone fuelled bravado. Good for the old ego.”
Thérèse popped her head round the door.
“Just nipping out for lunch. Can I bring you anything back, Lord Fluffy?”
“Skinny Latté. The captain here will be gone by then, so he won’t need a drink.” Thérèse had ‘things to do’ in her break and she would return a little late.
“Now Mr Jack, you’ve given me an idea. Thérèse, get Midlands back… Oh damn it! It’ll have to wait till after her lunch. I was thinking I’d send Captain Midlands off into the jungle with your rag-tag circus. He deserves a change of scenery. How would you like to sort out the lack of progress up north instead? I’d make you a major.”
“Oh…” Mad Jack Belvoir was less than enthralled. Lord Fluffy put an arm round the Hussar’s shoulder and ushered him towards the door.
“Take your time and give my offer some careful thought. I will send my adjutant round to your rooms in half an hour for an answer.”
Mad Jack looked startled.
“Yes, I do know where you live. And I’m sure you will come to a sensible decision.”
That afternoon a fluffy grey and white kitten gambolled innocently along the footpaths of La Collette Gardens, chasing a leaf between the park benches with their slumbering tramps. Losing interest in her game, she scampered up a nearby tree and sitting on a low branch plucked at a dead twig. It came loose. Carefully she removed the twig from the secret hole that it plugged and peered within. It contained a memory stick, which she quickly pocketed. After a cautious glance round to ensure she had attracted no unwarranted attention the kitten replaced the twig and returned to the ground. Off she skipped in search of new fronds to chase.
bozzyshenton 