Luck of the Draw

Chapter 22 - SOME Came Boldly

Barclay answered his cell phone in spite of knowing who it was, and he clutched the bedsheet to his chin.

"Malcolm?"

"What the hell are you doing at home?"

"I- I'm not feeling all that well. How did you know I was at home?"

"I called your office."

His secretary would be publicly lashed, and a letter T, for traitor would be carved in her backside. "Is something wrong?"

"You placed an order for trees for Playford?"

"Actually he placed it, but yes... five thousand pieces... is there something wrong, Malcolm?" How the hell did he learn that so soon?

"You didn't feel you should have kept me informed?"

"It seems you were anyway." Feeling his future with the company was probably a faint dream now, he spoke his mind.

"What do you know about that?" Malcolm sounded worried suddenly.

"What do you mean? You know, so someone obviously informed you."

"Oh... right. Look, Barclay," the change in tone was abrupt, and not unnoticed. "When is delivery?"

"I haven't heard yet, but I would guess pretty darn soon or they won't be Christmas trees."

"I want you to make absolutely sure that all the paperwork and all the arrangements are done only in Playford's name. Got it? No mention of you, me or any gatepost."

"You're giving him the total credit for developing the market and any sales?"

"Yes... should that be the case—which I doubt. You and I are not to be mentioned anywhere, so get onto the warehouse and start burying the paperwork."

"Is this the end of the company, Malcolm?"

"The NaturGro secret won't be secret much longer, Barclay. I suggest you make plans. When Playford fails, which is why we - you - chose him, the cat will be out of the bag."

Barclay sat up. He didn't like the fact Malcolm was shifting responsibility. "What will you be doing? Where are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"So I can reach you if I have to."

"I'll call you. Do not leave any messages on my phone, got it?" The call ended.

He jumped from bed and dashed into the bathroom to wash and shave. The company is doomed whether Teddy sells any bloody trees or not, and Malcolm is the first one out of the plane. Plans. Make plans.

!!!!!

The clinic loomed in front of him like Dracula's' castle. Inside he knew that the she-monster would be waiting; waiting to tear the plaster from his healing limb with a ferociousness that would shame a wolf. He pushed through the door and limped up to the desk.

"Mickey Schafer, I have an appointment to get a cast removed." He raised a leg and then lowered it quickly when the woman behind the desk gave the manoeuvre a disgusted look.

"Room three." She handed him a form and dismissed him tersely.

Mickey made his way cautiously down the hall and entered the room with his cane poised defensively in front. The hulking figure of, Nurse Horror, turned and smirked as she held out a paw for the form he held crumpled in his fist.

"Again." The word carried a multitude of meanings, none of them particularly encouraging to Mickey.

"The cast. It's supposed to come off, and then the leg is supposed to be examined..."