That evening, in the hotel, we ordered marionated chicken from the capo-de-monte menu. Harry went at it like a raw dog, but I can’t silver spoon him all his life, can I? Mary just nibbles at her food and eats very properly because she was brought up with a silver dish. I complemented the chef on receiving BS5750 for the quality of his food and suggested that his catering unit should share its recipe for success.
We drank defacceinated coffee after the meal - it was made from ground-coffee tea bags. The waiter asked if I would like black coffee with out milk (?), but as usual I ordered semi-skilled milk. I still had to keep my eye on Bob, because he has a drugs problem that will be hard to crack. There was a 20/50 disco on in the hotel that night but I didn't join in, I remember it was very warm that evening, almost as if we were going to have an Indian winter.
The following Thursday morning we returned to the GP practice to meet the doctor. The receptionist thanked us for falling back again. We caught the Doctor looking at his shadow in the mirror; he looked about age five-ty eight. He was just a big fish in a little Poland and compared to Wimpey or Leech he was just a flea in the ocean. I put him through the grill at interview and accused him of peddling fake isms and taking a major share of the lion’s cake! I also threatened to report him to the GMC Council. That put the cookie among the crumble!
The Doctor denied that that was the name of the ball he was in, or that he had his black-market testicles spread all over the world. I knew he was just sitting on the hedge and told him to come clean. The issue was fairly current at present and it had been all hot press on the wireless that day. Black-market isms were becoming freely available, universally on a national basis.
I quoted the Computer Protection Act at him and accused him of feathering his own bed. The Doctor through his ring into the hat and said that that was no skin off his back. He said that due to a gross mis-fiddle the CPA Act did not cover the dis-assemble and re-mantle stages of ism collection and production. Therefore, he claimed, his planner-estimators were compeetant to undertake isms work as part of the NFIS (the national incentive financial scheme). Apparently they couldn’t post-applicate but they could post-apply: they could also reconciliate! The Doctor said that as there had been nothing to countercede the Act, I couldn’t accuse him of codwalloping the figures.
Any normal person would have chickened out and cried ‘sheep’ at this stage, but I could see that senile dimensions were setting in. There was no way I was letting him off the hook or putting my head on the rack again to get hung.
