LITMIR.BIZ

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Sid. ‘Well, what do you suggest?’

      ‘Why not something that suggests the technical wizardry that’s gone into it. The Nippamatic, maybe.’

      ‘Do me a favour! We don’t want anything that sounds too Japanese. Some people have got very long memories you know. You have to play this Jap thing very carefully. That’s why I thought of calling it the Noggett. It’s a very sturdy, British sort of name.’

      ‘Yeah, but, Sidney, I don’t want to be unkind, but it doesn’t exactly shriek class, does it? I mean, if it was the Noggett Silver Arrow or something like that –’

      ‘I know!’ shrieks Sidney. ‘The Noggett Nuggett!’

      Diabolical, isn’t it? But what can you do? After all, it is his money.

      ‘Well, it’s a thought,’ I say, reckoning on trying to talk him out of it later. ‘When am I going to see it?’

      ‘Right now, if you like,’ says Sidney. ‘I’ll see if Mr. Ishowi is in his room.’

      ‘Oh, he’s here, is he?’

      ‘Yes, didn’t I tell you? He’s showing a couple of his nieces some of his old haunts. Apparently there was a jungle training centre near here during the war when he used to help out.’

      While I digest this information, Sid pops off to see if he can locate Mr. Ishowi. I feel considerably relieved now I know we are dealing with a Japanese product. I mean, like Sidney says, they are so reliable and efficient, the Japs. And there is no doubt about the advanced technology of the products they make.

      I suppose it is stupid of me but I am expecting Mr. Ishowi to be wearing some kind of robe with a broad sash at the waist, and his hair in a pigtail. In fact he is small, which is no surprise, and wearing a lightweight suit with a tie almost as wide as he is, two-tone co-respondent shoes and a fat cigar.

      ‘Mr. Ishowi,’ says Sidney respectfully, ‘I’d like you to meet my Sales Manager, Mr. Timothy Lea.’

      ‘Arseholes,’ says Mr. Ishowi.

      Well! That’s not nice, is it? I may not be everybody’s cup of tea but there is no need to behave like that.

      ‘What do you mean, “arseholes”,’ I say indignantly, ‘you can’t –’

      ‘“Ah so”,’ interjects Sidney hurriedly. ‘That’s what Mr. Ishowi said: come, come, Timothy. Surely you’ve heard the expression before?’

      Now I come to think about it, Sidney is right. I must try and stop being so sensitive.

      ‘Oh yes, of course—er, sorry,’ I stammer. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ishowi. Sidney has been telling me all about the Tepid Toilet.’

      ‘Klamikazi!’ hisses Sidney. ‘For Gawd’s sake get with it, Timmy.’

      But Mr. Ishowi does not seem at all disturbed by my clumsiness.

      ‘Very good. Very good product,’ he beams, flashing a set of gold-plated gnashers that look like the radiator grill of Lady Docker’s Rolls. ‘You sell a million, I become a very rich man.’ The thought obviously causes him great amusement and he punctuates bursts of laughter with karate chops against my forearm. These blows are by no means light ones and I become conscious that a strange glint comes into Mr. Ishowi’s eyes once he starts getting into his swing. Sidney steps forward hurriedly.

      ‘We were wondering if you could show us the—er, your product in action, Mr. Ishowi.’

      ‘Ah so. Regrettably no. Projector has suffered a breakdown.’

      ‘Projector?’ I turn to Sidney.

      ‘Mr. Ishowi has a demonstration film of the –’ Sidney lowers his voice, ‘Nuggett.’

      ‘You mean, you’ve never seen a real one?’

      ‘Well, you can hardly expect Mr. Ishowi to travel round Europe with his nieces and a multipurpose cleaner, can you?’

      ‘No, but Sidney –’ The funny look starts coming into Mr. Ishowi’s eyes again and I too lower my voice. ‘You haven’t signed anything have you?’

      ‘The first assignment is on its way at the moment. That’s right, isn’t it, Mr. Ishowi?’

      Mr. Ishowi has been craning his head forward at an angle which makes it difficult to keep him out of our conversation, and he nods enthusiastically.

      ‘Any day they should arrive. Provided, of course, that you do not have any of your naughty dock strikes. Oh dear, I hate to see the tail of the old lion being twisted. We have no dock strikes in Japan. We strike first – hah so!’

      Well, I don’t reckon it was one of the strongest coffee tables ever made but the way Ishowi’s mit goes through it you would think it was made of ice cream wafers.

      ‘He’s a very interesting bloke, isn’t he?’ says Sid later when Mr. Ishowi has gone off to see if his nieces would like a walk along the promenade – they can’t have done because he does not come down again until after lunch which he takes in his room – tomato salad and a bottle of scotch.

      ‘Yeah, very interesting, Sid,’ I say. ‘But there’s something a bit funny about him, isn’t there?’

      ‘Yeah, I thought that,’ says Sidney thoughtfully. ‘I can’t quite put my finger on it though.’

      ‘Well,’ I say, taking a deep breath, ‘it occurred to me, reading between the lines, that he might be a raving nutter.’

      ‘Timmy!’

      ‘Well, honestly Sid. How many blokes do you know who go around chopping up coffee tables with their bare hands?’

      Sid immediately takes umbrage. ‘I used to know a bloke who could straighten horse shoes. He used to come down to the Highwayman on Friday night. You remember him, Timmo?’

      ‘It’s not quite the same thing,’ I say wearily, ‘he was a professional. This bloke – well. Are you sure he was on our side during the war?’

      ‘Course he was. Mind you I think it was a decision that caused him a lot of soul-searching. That, maybe, is why he seems a little strange sometimes. Also, of course, he’s Japanese. Their ways are different to ours you know, Timmo.’

      ‘I’m learning. Look, Sidney, are you sure you aren’t taking a bit too much for granted? I mean, you’ve never even seen the bloody cleaner.’

      ‘The Nuggett,’ prompts Sidney.

      ‘Yeah. The Nugget. You haven’t seen it, have you?’

      ‘I’ve seen this film and it looks fantastic, Timmo.’

      ‘But can you go by that?’

      ‘I reckon it’s worth a try out. I’m only taking twenty thousand.’

      ‘Twenty thousand!’

      ‘That’s nothing, Timmo. They sell hundreds of thousands of vacuum cleaners every year. We’re only going for a small percentage of the market.’

      ‘You mean I’m going for a small percentage of the market. Blimey, if I tried up every wholesaler in the country I don’t reckon I could flog twenty thousand.’

      ‘You’re not on your own, Timmo.’

      ‘You mean I’ve got you behind me? Thanks a lot. I’d feel safer with the massed bands of the Gay Liberation Front.’

      ‘I wasn’t referring to my own support.’

      ‘I never knew you wore one, Sidney.’

      ‘Don’t be coarse, Timmo. I was alluding to the Daughters of the Cherry Blossom.’

      ‘You’ve done a tie up with the boot polish people? I didn’t know they made a floor polish.’

      ‘No,

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