By Roland Miles
It was so damned hot that summer, we kept the door open all night. We woke up to find Booth sitting there.
“Who the hell are you?” boomed Pop.
Booth took out his card. Booth, it said. Acquisitions.
“Means nothing to me,” snapped Pop.
Booth smiled. “Why don’t you sit down?” he drawled. “Got my letter then?” I looked at Pop. Pop shook his head but that stare from Booth stopped him dead in his tracks. He nodded. “Seven days’ notice. Can’t go back empty-handed.”
Pop began to cry.
“Devil’s in the detail,” said Booth, grinning. “You read the contract, right?”
Oh dear, oh dear, of dear! Slap wrist! I must read terms and conditions next time, not just check the box.
I liked “Devil’s in the detail,” it rounded off a very good story.
Oh my goodness. You just taught me about a “long spoon.” Whoa.