“Grey is the office.
Grey is the desk.
Grey is the heart,
That put us in this mess.”
Steve Dixie 1998 “Grey Men” bonus track “Steve’s Greatest Hits” CD.
CHAPTER 8 THE JACKPOT
Rachael Howells smiled, embarrassed, round Colonel Moran’s door “I’m afraid there’s a problem with the conference room. I found someone else laying it out for another meeting. I’m afraid it was double booked.”
“So?”
“Well, I’m afraid they have given it to the General instead. And they say it’s too late to book another conference room, they’re all taken.”
“So I’ll have a room in the Mess.”
“I’m sorry, but they are taken as well. There is no where. I’m sorry.”
“Dear God.” His arm was tingling again. The dagger on his desk was tempting. “Well, the meeting is today. People are already on their way. Can you ask the Camp Commandant, or facilities, or who ever, for some decent chairs, and I will hold it in the registry. Have John and Maria push their desks together to make a table. OK?”
“Well Sir. Facilities suggest we use the NAAFI1 dining room.”
“The bloody NAAFI canteen?”
“Yes Sir. They can let us have the end away from the actual bar and serving hatches.”
“There are people coming here from London, and you want to hold a meeting in the NAAFI? Why not the Officers Mess dining room?”
“Well. I did ask Sir, when I asked about the other rooms, but they say it would be illegal on health and safety grounds, because there will be no kitchen staff there all the time, and it would mean the kitchens were unsupervised by qualified personnel.”
“Qualified? To do what? Cook?”
“I think its something to do with sharp knives and the cookers and….”
“Oh God. Spare me the drivel. All right then Sort out the bloody NAAFI.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Is there any chance of having a presentation screen?”
“Um. We could provide laptops”
“Thank God most people aren’t coming.”
“Yes Sir.”
In the registry Rubber Boobs was making a big thing of adjusting her bra, while John Gilchrist made a big thing of not noticing.
“Maria?” It was Rachael in the corridor. “Can you and John help me take the lap tops to the NAAFI?”
“I’m sorry?” asked John.
“All the meeting rooms are booked, so the Colonels meeting is there .”
“He won’t like it in the NAAFI,” said Rubber Boobs.
“No.” Rachael Howells took two laptops away.
Maria said “Can you hold me while I reach on top the cupboard?”
“Yes.” Rubber Boobs stood on a chair and John held her hips. Of course they soft and warm. And somehow she contrived to pull her dress up. “Oh Jesus Christ.” She had no knickers under her tights.
“Sorry? Something wrong?” Rubber Boobs dropped a wiring loom on the floor “Now lift me down. You are strong you know.”
“Yeah sure.” John tried not to smile with pride.
The NAAFI was newish with a small supermarket, hairdressers and canteen, joined with paths winding through landscaped grounds.
“Over here.” Called Rachael Howells as John backed through the swing doors with four laptops. “Can you put them out there and get that WIFI Bluetooth thing going. You know, so they all show the same thing.”
“OK.”
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