The minutes ticked by alarmingly swiftly for Bunty and the occupants of the white van. At a certain moment, the lateness of the day suddenly struck her; she checked her watch in great consternation. Lord in hell, it’s a quarter before eight, where the blazers are they!
She whipped out a mobile phone from the front pocket of her rapidly creasing trousers and punched a few keys. When Leonard picked it up on the first ring she barked at him furiously. “Where – exactly – are you and what time do you call this?”
There was an anguished silence and then she interrupted him. “That is not acceptable Leonard, I expolicely told you no later than 7.30 and now look at it, ticking along on eight!! No buts, Leonard, get over here prontish. I expect to see all of you ready and waiting at 8.50 precisely and I do not expect to see any brown shoes with black trousers or three-buttoned suits. Is that clear? Good, now get along with it sharpo”.
She flicked the phone shut with another impatient sigh. You just CAN’T get the staff these days!
“What shall I do with these cookies, shall I put them out now?”
Bunty’s faithful servant Puss-Cat had been hovering anxiously by her side for the past fifteen minutes, worriedly brandishing a huge basketful of delicious looking home-baked biscuits that were laced with brain-washing chemicals. Bunty waved her away irritably, “Not now, for hell’s sake, can’t you just get along with it for once? JANE, SELENA, you lot, what time do you call this?”
She lunged towards the latest batch of arrivals as they walked through the door looking, for the most part, surprisingly with it. Then there was Susannah, who looked “absolutely stunning! Jane, look at Susannah, you might learn how to dress for business! See those beautiful pointy shoes? Darling, I do hope you’re feeling better, you must take care not to work too hard now!”
Bunty smiled fondly in the face of no response whatsoever and then turned her attention to the Head of Marketing. “Well, Jane, would you like to explain why you’re so late?”
Jane cleared her throat. Stick it up your prissy little arse you bitch troll from hell. “Ermm, I thought you told us to be here at eight? It’s only ten-to.”
Bunty waved her arms crossly and stamped a small foot. “Yes, yes, just get on with it will you, some people have busy lives to be getting away with.”