Corporate Bodies Read Online Free Page A

you very much, Trevor. Right, Charles, could we run it?’
    But the real operator wasn’t going to relinquish his seat to any thespian surrogate quite so easily. ‘You don’t smoke, do you?’ he asked Charles accusingly.
    â€˜No, I don’t.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Trevor couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. ‘Only you mustn’t smoke round one of these.’
    â€˜Well, I wouldn’t, because I don’t.’
    â€˜And the whole warehouse is a “No smoking” area, anyway, Trevor,’ Alan Hibbert pointed out testily.
    But the operator was not to be deflected from his narrative. ‘Point is,’ he continued, eyeing Charles beadily, ‘some of these trucks run on Calor gas, and there’s a risk of a leak and if you get a naked flame from a cigarette –’
    â€˜Yes, well, since, as I say, I don’t smoke, and since this one I’m working on is actually powered by electricity, I don’t see –’
    â€˜Bloke in a warehouse over Northampton,’ Trevor continued inexorably, ‘he had a crafty fag while he was driving one of the Calor ones . . . Whole thing went “woomph” . . . they was picking bits of him off the shelves for months.’
    â€˜Well, that sounds –’
    â€˜What you have to watch with the electrical ones,’ Trevor went on, ‘is that you don’t leave them with the engine running. Flattens the batteries. Have to be recharged every night, you see. If there’s one way to get yourself unpopular in a warehouse, it’s to leave your engine running and flatten your battery.’
    â€˜Well, I’ll certainly be careful not to –’
    â€˜And this machine’s got a “Quick Release” button, and all . . .’
    â€˜Has it?’
    â€˜It’s got a guard over it, so’s you can’t push it by mistake . . .’ Trevor appraised Charles disdainfully, ‘well, unless you’re a complete wanker. It’s meant for lowering the forks quick when you’ve unloaded but, if you press it when you got a pallet up, whole sodding lot comes smashing down.’
    â€˜Ah,’ said Charles, bewildered as to the cause of this sudden verbal diarrhoea. Maybe it was just intimidation, or perhaps the operator, affronted at the assumption that he wasn’t up to the task of speaking, wanted to assert his credentials in that department.
    Griff Merricks seemed to take the second view, or at least to reckon that it was Trevor’s exclusion from a more active role in the filming that was making him so uncooperative. ‘Um . . .’ he proposed, ‘I was wondering whether you would mind doing something else for me in the video . . .’
    â€˜Oh?’ The speed of reaction showed that the director had judged his subject right. There was a glint of enthusiasm in Trevor’s grudging acquiescence. ‘I suppose I could, if you insist – since my day’s work’s bloody shot to pieces, anyway.’
    â€˜Well, what I’d like you to do, Trevor, is to be seen chatting with the secretary who comes out of the warehouse office.’
    â€˜What do I say to her then?’
    â€˜It actually doesn’t matter what you say. We won’t hear it, just see you talking – OK?’
    Trevor nodded magnanimously. ‘Sure, I’ll help you out.’ He got down from the seat of the forklift. Granted another role in the proceedings, he no longer needed to continue asserting his dominance over Charles.
    â€˜So what I’d like to do now . . .’ the Director illustrated his intentions with wide arm movements, ‘is pick up from the end of the manoeuvre you just did for us, Trevor. We’ve got you bringing the pallet down at the end of the aisle – that’s in the can. Then I want to sweep across the warehouse . . .’
    â€˜What, do a pan, like?’ asked Trevor, keen to assert his mastery of video