What are you going to do next?
By moxie
- 468 reads
There was a knock at the window. Trilby sighed, took off his glasses, placed his folder on the leather seat, and pressed the switch to roll down the smoked glass window.
?Nigel.?
The chauffeur looked awkward. He always looked awkward. Despite several Saville Row fittings, he always seemed uncomfortable in his uniform, as if it were two sizes too small. He was always playing with his cuffs, or collar, taking off his hat, or putting it on. Every possible twitch, tick, and fidget a man could have, the chauffeur exhibited within a twenty-minute period. He made Trilby feel on edge, which was half of the reason why he had remained Trilby?s chauffeur for so long.
?It?s no good Mr Trilby. The traffic isn't moving. Backed up all the way to Tower Bridge.?
?From Tower Bridge. The traffic is backed up from Tower ? oh, never mind. Look, I can't very well be late for this one. You?ll have to organise alternatives.?
?Alternatives??
?Yes Nigel, use your imagination.?
Trilby pressed the window switch and the window rose, covering the chauffeur?s open mouth, trapping his ?yes sir? in the carbonated smog outside.
The chauffeur was next to useless. In fact, next to useless, useless looked quite good. He should let the chauffeur go. The only reason Trilby hadn?t dispensed with him already, apart for the feeling of edginess, and the comfort that it brought, was his discretion.
Discretion was essential. Discretion overrode every skill a man chauffeur could have, with the exception, maybe, of holding a driving license. Discretion, true mouth-zipped, dead-eyed, cool-under-pressure, silent-under-torture discretion was the gift of the very smart and the very stupid only. Trilby would have leapt at a dumb applicant, even considered a blind man, given the deaf preferential treatment. However, through a combination of timing and thrift, he had ended up with Nigel.
There was another knock at the window.
?Your carpet awaits Sir.?
Trilby glanced outside, then double took. His field of vision was obscured by a large grey pillar.
?What the??
The pillar lifted off the ground and crashed down again.
?It?s a bloody elephant.?
?I bought from the zoo across the way there. The young lady said it would be ok.?
?A bloody elephant.?
?I?m going to fetch rope now.?
?Wait ??
But the chauffeur had gone. Trilby watched the creases of the animal?s leather thighs fold and unfold as it shifted its weight from leg to leg. The smell made the hair in his nostrils curl. The animal tottered left, flicked its tail, and deposited the contents of its bowel over the rear end of Trilby?s Mercedes.
Trilby fast-dialled the chauffeur?s mobile, and asked him if he was engaging in some sort of practical joke.
?No joke sir, imagine their faces when you come roaring in on the back of an elephant.?
?You idiot. I?m about to complete the largest acquisition in the history of commerce, a deal involving over four billion people in two-hundred and four countries, a deal so secret the only three people on the planet know it?s happening ? and two of them are holding this conversation. You want me to ride in on the back of an elephant??
?She?s environmentally friendly.?
?Do you know who I am, man??
?Yes sir.?
?I am Brian Trilby, mult-trillionaire Brian Trilby, English trillions, not US, pounds not dollars. I own three Baltic republics, six African nations, and the former state of Cuba. Not could afford, but own. The Crown Jewels are displayed at my pleasure. When I want to listen to a record, I hire the band. The water in my swimming pool is fed from the polar icecaps on Mars. I cloned Elvis and removed his obesity gene. I cured cancer. I fucked every Miss Universe since 2005, and they paid to have my babies. When I die, a rocket will carry my ashes into space to create a new moon, that?s always full. Do you understand what I?m saying??
?Yes sir.?
?So why, why, please tell me why, would you think that I would choose to go anywhere on the back of that filthy animal??
?Well sir, I think there?s something you should know.?
?Yes??
?Elephants are in.?
Brian Trilby released the catch and stepped in the afternoon smog. Up close, the elephant didn?t see that big.
A crowd had gathered, but none of them were looking at him. For all his extreme wealth, his face would only turn heads amongst the richest.
A little girl in a red frock was stroking the elephant?s trunk. Her mother raised a hand above her head, to tickle the animal?s chin. The elephant blinked. The elephant looked at Trilby and blinked again. For a moment, Trilby was afraid, afraid that the beast would rear up and crush him, or the little girl, but the elephant merely turned back to the girl.
Some people were stepping out of their cars. Other people had opened their doors and clung onto the roof to get a better look. Trilby had the sudden feeling that he was invisible, that he could have done anything, and the spellbound crowd would not have noticed. He could go. He could walk away from the scene, leave the Merc unattended, wait for the APB?s to go out while he drank anonymous beer in an anonymous pub. He could fall in with gangsters, sell himself on the streets, and become addicted to the latest neuron-rotting fad. He could disappear forever.
The smile that spun across his lips wasn?t registered by the mother, the daughter or the elephant. It was a smile for Brian Trilby alone. He gathered his folder, and started walking. In half an hour, he would own the remainder of the planet. It begged only one question. What was he going to do next?
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