'Cost me an arm and a leg,' said Mr Shadow. 'Well only an arm, actually,' and he pointed to his empty sleeve. 'No, only joking,' he said, producing his hand.
Derek didn't laugh.
'The things we do for fashion,' said Mr Speedy. 'And to look our very best. You look like a vagrant, Derek, I think we'll just sack you here and now.'
Derek sighed. It was a heartfelt sigh, a real deep down and hopeless sigh. A sigh that said, 'Go on and do your worst, I just don't care any more.'
'Well, if you feel that way,' said Mr Speedy. 'You're sacked.'
'I don't feel that way,' said Derek. 'I was only sighing. I'll have a wash and a shave in the staff cloakroom and I think I have a change of shirt in my desk. I'll smarten myself up.'
'Just you do,' said Mr Speedy. 'And get a move on. Pacey pacey, up and at 'em. All that kind of rot.'
Derek slunk away to the staff cloakroom.
And the Brentford sun rose higher.
The Brentford sky grew bluer still and the birdies that chorused in the treetops really put their hearts and souls into it. Well, the treetops were very clean, they'd been nicely vacuumed and given a coat of paint.
At a little before nine of this joyous Monday morning, the guard on the main gates swung them wide and a charabanc rolled out of Brentford. At a little after nine of this same joyous Monday morning, the same guard, who had closed the main gates behind the departing charabanc, opened them up once more to admit the entrance of a motor cavalcade.
Ticket sellers in their numerous booths saluted. The guards in their armoured watchtowers saluted. The guard dogs that patrolled the inner perimeter area, behind the electrified fences, didn't salute. Their heavily armed handlers did though.
Mr Doveston's motor cavalcade rolled in through the gates of Brentford.
The Prime Minister's car was a certain black open-topped Cadillac. It had once driven a certain JFK through the streets of Dallas. It was a rare collector's item now. It was the pride and joy of its driver, the Prime Minister's Rastafarian chauffeur. A certain Mr Winston Felix, brother of a certain supplier of certain previously owned vehicles, and resident of Brentford.
Mr Speedy saluted the Prime Minister. Mr Shadow saluted the Prime Minister. Mr Pokey, who was present to do some saluting, saluted the Prime Minister. A whole bunch of Mute Corp employees all saluted the Prime Minister.
Strangely no Brentonians saluted. Possibly they might have done had they bothered to turn out for the occasion, but as none except for Derek had, they didn't.
So there.
'Where is the band?' Mr Speedy elbowed Derek in the ribs.
'I didn't have a band on my list.'
'Poor show,' said Mr Shadow. 'You should have used your initiative.'
The chauffeur drew the Cadillac to a halt, swung open his door, stepped from it and opened the rear door to assist the Prime Minister.
Mr Doveston required considerable assistance.
'Now that's what I call a pair of shoes,' said Mr Speedy.
Mr Doveston struggled from the Cadillac. They really were what you would call a pair of shoes. A big pair. A high pair. An elevated pair. They certainly uplifted the Prime Minister. He struck his head on the floor of one of the watchtowers.
'Ouch,' he said.
Mr Speedy stepped forward. 'Good morning Prime Minister,' he said.
'Pardon?' the Prime Minister called down. 'You'll have to speak up, I can't hear you too well up here.'
'Spiffing shoes, Prime Minister,' called Mr Speedy.
'Thank you very much,' the PM shouted down. 'Multifaceted love-tunnels and five-core cantilevered tremolo-armed Spiedel honey-wrists. And those are real bare naked ladies sealed inside the transparent heels, my Aunty Ajax and my cousin Domestos.'
'Magnificent,' called Mr Speedy. 'Hello Aunty Ajax. Hello cousin Domestos.'
The aunty and the cousin mouthed hellos.
'So, if you'd like to follow me,' said Mr Speedy, 'I will conduct you on a walking tour of Suburbia World Plc, before we get on with the tape-cutting.'
'You have to be joking,' said Mr Doveston. 'You don't think I can actually walk in these shoes, do you? Tell me all about it. And tell me about it in Runese please. It makes everything so much nicer.'
'It's Fandabbydozy,' Mr Speedy began. 'And Supercali
'Fragile,' said Old Vic, as the charabanc bumped over a speed ramp at considerable speed. 'Very fragilistic. Very delicate.'
'What is?' asked Old Pete, who -was driving.
'These fuses,' said Old Vic. 'They're nitroglycerine. Or pretty much the same as. A combination of mucus and certain other personal bodily secretions.'
'Why are you telling me this?' Old Pete asked, as the charabanc took a corner on two wheels and on-board Brentonians cheered wildly.
'Only because if you don't drive carefully, we'll all have our bottom parts blown to kingdom come.'
Old Pete slowed to a respectable fifty.
Old Vic said, 'That's nice.'
'Nice,' said the Prime Minister, gazing about at all and sundry. 'Very nice indeed.'
Derek squinted. Past the towering swaying Prime Minister, past the infamous Cadillac, past the other limousines containing the Prime Minister's retinue, through the open main gates and up the road that led to Kew.
'Excuse me,' said Derek to Mr Speedy, who was wringing his hands and fawning at the Prime Minister's feet. 'But where are all the visitors? I thought we were expecting ten thousand at the very least.'
Mr Speedy turned his face to Derek. It was a face that suddenly wore a troubled look. 'Where are the visitors?' he asked.
'Don't ask me' said Derek. 'How would I know?'
'Because you were supposed to be arranging the transportation.'
'Me?' said Derek. 'Me?'
'It's all on your list. Show me your list.'
Derek fumbled in his pockets. Did he still have his list or had he given it to Leo? 'I don't have my list any more,' said Derek. 'But there was nothing mentioned about transportation on my list. Just Morris Minors and a steam train and crad barges and…'
'Not on that page,' said Mr Speedy. 'On the second page.'
'Second page?' said Derek. 'I never had any second page.'
Mr Speedy looked at Mr Shadow and then Mr Speedy and Mr Shadow looked very hard at Derek. And Mr Pokey, who had been listening to the conversation, joined Mr Speedy and Mr Shadow in looking very hard at Derek. Mr Doveston looked down from on high, but as he hadn't been able to hear what anyone was talking about, he didn't look particularly hard at Derek.