LITMIR.BIZ

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drain clearance. But you see clearly how effective powerful air jet can be for cleaning blocked up pipes?’

      It is doubtful if Sidney can see anything very clearly and there is a small break in the proceedings while we clean some of the soot off his mush.

      ‘Now, having dealt with drain clearance, vacuum cleaning,’ says Ishy smoothly. I can see Sid’s teeth glistening, but maybe it is the grit. Ishy presses the switch again and immediately the strip of mat disappears into the mouth of the cleaner as if it has been gobbled up by a hungry shark.

      ‘A true demonstration of suction power,’ beams Ishy. ‘Of course, when carpet is nailed to the floor this does not happen. One small point of warning. It is advisable to keep household pets and crawling infants out of the room when cleaning is taking place.’

      He switches off the machine and eventually succeeds in retrieving the strip of matting. During the operation the ‘Nugget’ makes a high-pitched whining noise as if angry at having to disgorge its prey.

      ‘Sid,’ I say. ‘Oh, Sid. How many did you say –’

      ‘Shut up!’ says Sid. I can see that his hands are clenched very tight.

      ‘Now, having unblocked drain and vacuumed carpet, we scrub rug,’ continues Ishy. ‘All ladies know it is very difficult to scrub rub, but Monsoonbreaker – I mean Nugget Noggett’ – he gives a little bow towards Sid who nods stiffly – ‘makes lighthouse work of it. Watch.’

      Ishy bends down and ten minutes later he has managed to screw a circular brush into the base of the Nugget.

      ‘Need a little oil, maybe,’ he says with a smile that wins no response from anybody. ‘Now, like I say, watch closely. Brush action get deep down into root of fibres.’

      Well, he is dead right there. Nobody can take that away from him. Carefully standing on either end of the strip of rug he dunks the brush head in a tin of gunge and positions it in the centre of the area to be cleaned. ‘Wheeeeh!’ The noise it makes when he presses the switch is like a circular saw and in no time at all the brush head has gone right through the rug and is attacking the floorboards. Ishy switches off the machine and turns his attention from the round hole to the tin of gunge.

      ‘Maybe solution too strong,’ he says.

      Half an hour later I am sitting in Sid’s room at the Cromby as my tycoon brother-in-law helps himself to a couple of shaking fingers of scotch.

      ‘Well, it’s certainly a powerful product, isn’t it?’ he says desperately.

      ‘It’s a killer, Sidney. You’ll never get the Approvals Board to pass that as it stands.’

      ‘The what?’

      ‘Oh blimey, Sidney, I thought you’d covered everything.’

      ‘Don’t blind me with detail. What did you think of the colour scheme.’

      ‘Great if you like battleship grey.’

      ‘You didn’t think the rising sun motif might offend someone?’

      ‘Not as much as having a bleeding great hole in the middle of their sitting room carpet.’ Sidney buries his face in his hands.

      ‘Don’t!’ he croaks. ‘You realise I’ve sunk everything I’ve got into this deal.’

      ‘Including your share of the Super Cromby?’

      ‘That is everything I’ve got.’

      ‘Sidney, really!’

      ‘It seemed such a good idea, Timmo. I’m certain it still is a good idea, of course. But I do wish the demonstration had been a bit more encouraging.’

      ‘It did leave a little to be desired, didn’t it?’

      ‘Don’t be sarky, Timmo. I can tell, you know.’ Sid takes a long swig of scotch and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Ishowi thinks it was a dud batch, you know. He telegraphed Bushimingi immediately we got back.’

      ‘That’s the bloke responsible, is it?’

      ‘No. It’s the name of the corporation that makes them.’

      ‘I thought that was Cammy knickers?’

      ‘Klamikazi. No, that’s some kind of subsidiary. I don’t know, really I don’t. I suppose it will all come right in the end. I asked him to cable a few modifications as well.’

      ‘Very wise, Sid.’

      ‘It must be all right. I mean if you’d seen that film you would have been convinced as well. Fantastic!’

      ‘Yeah. It’s fantastic all right, Sid.’

      ‘Are you getting at me again, Timothy?’ Sid only calls me “Timothy” when he is really narked so I decide to cool it.

      ‘No, definitely not, Sidney. I know just how you must be feeling. When are we going to get the new stuff in?’

      ‘I don’t know. Won’t be tomorrow, will it? We’ll have to go out with the ones we’ve got.’

      ‘We can’t go through the trade with that lot, Sidney.’

      ‘I’ve thought about that, Timmo, and I reckon the thing to do is call on selected outlets and do most of our stuff door to door. Use the birds to chat up the dealers and we’ll chat up the housewives.’

      ‘You’re coming out, are you, Sid?’

      ‘Looks as if I’ll have to, to begin with. We’ll treat the first batch as a sort of test market operation. Iron out the wrinkles.’

      ‘It’ll be quite like old times, won’t it Sid? Us on the road together.’

      ‘Yeah, only this time you’ll be selling. Not taking your hampton for a walk.’ It is sad but instructive to see Sid in this unbending frame of mind. There is no doubt that scraping a few ackers together can put a strain on even the most outward-going soul.

      ‘Well, when the girls get here we’ll know the worst, won’t we?’ I say cheerfully. Sid does not answer but reaches for the scotch bottle.

      At two thirty a mini-bus pulls up outside the Cromby and Miss Primstone, the ancient receptionist, steams into Sidney’s office.

      ‘They’re here,’ she says, making the words sound like a rebuke. ‘I never thought I’d live to see the day –’

      ‘I hope the same about you every night,’ says Sid sourly, ‘but you keep letting me down. Why don’t you try and do something positive about it?’ Luckily she does not understand him and Sid picks up a couple of pills and chases them down his throat with a glass of water. ‘I don’t fancy yours,’ he says as we go out of the door. But, for once, our worst fears are not realised. The minibus contains twelve little almond-eyed darlings, the like of which would be enough to gladden the front of any man’s trousers. They are wearing a sort of air stewardess uniform which pleases me because I do not go a bundle on the blanket, and the piled up hair with a couple of knitting needles through it. Likewise the half pound of self-raising splashed across the mush. These birds look oriental but western with it, if you know what I mean. Exactly right for my suburban fantasies.

      ‘Charmed to greet you, ladies,’ says Sidney, stepping forward gracefully onto a small offering donated by one of the many dogs that does not read the signs liberally sprinkled along the promenade. He notices that he has put on a bit of unwanted weight, and, in an effort to feel behind him for the foot-scraper, manages to lose his balance and sit down in one of the tubs of flowers. I can see the Japanese bints looking at him and wondering if this is some peculiarly British form of greeting.

      We get them into the tea lounge and are proffering a cup of tea and a dainty wad when it occurs to me that Mr. Ishowi should be around to greet his niece’s friends. Even the dreaded nieces themselves, maybe. I have a word with Sid and am despatched to alert our chunky friend. It is certainly

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