by Hatchett
“Of course,” Issy replied.
“Two dead bodies.”
“I know that,” Issy replied, laughing.
“You want to know if it’s Mamba and Ahmed?”
“Got it in one.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint, but they are so disfigured they could be anyone. I doubt even Isaac, Zak or Grace would recognise them.”
“Talking of them, how are they?” Issy asked.
“Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, Isaac and Zak are pretty cut up about Samata, but I’m sure the latest news about Mamba will put a smile on all their faces.”
Daniel wandered back towards Gina.
“Fancy an early night?” Andy asked with a grin on his face.
Issy smiled. “Not yet. First…”
Issy cut her comment short as she saw Ben Maynard, Head of Heathrow Medical, enter the lounge and head in their direction.
“Hi Ben,” Issy said as she approached him. “Any news?”
“Yes, hold on, let me get a drink.” Ben went to the bar and ordered himself a beer before returning to the Leaders. He was still wearing his white coat and it was clear he’d just come from examining the bodies, judging by the smells still lingering around him.
“Hello Ben,” Jack said, “what can you tell us? Good news I hope?”
Ben swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Yes, I thought you’d all want to know as soon as possible. Well, I can confirm that the two bodies brought in were both male, both black, one was about six feet tall and the other a few inches taller. Both appear to be in their late twenties, early thirties. I have a few more tests running, just to be absolutely sure, but based on what I have so far, and bearing in mind the circumstantial evidence found at the scene, I would say you have finally got the two people you were after. Cheers!” Ben finished his beer in one and turned to go back to work.
There were cheers and the clinking of glasses. Even Issy smiled as she was patted roughly on the back by Irish, almost spilling her coke.
“Finally!” the Major stated. “Maybe now we can get back to securing what we have, expanding and savings more lives.”
“Hear hear,” Jack agreed.
Issy finished her drink and placed the glass on the bar. “Night all,” she called, “I’m having an early one, bit knackered to tell the truth.”
There was a cacophony of ‘night Issy’, ‘sleep well’ and ‘see you tomorrow’.
Andy quickly finished his beer, ready to go with her. “No, you stay Cowboy, and enjoy the evening. I’ll catch up with you later,” Issy advised, as she turned to leave.
“Wait a minute,” Andy said, and Issy turned back to face him.
“We haven’t had our cockney rhyming slang ‘quote of the day’.”
Issy smiled. “I’ve forgotten where we’ve got to. Let me think…OK, I’ve got one. Appropriate if you think about earlier. Here we go, ‘nice legs, shame about the boat.”
Andy paused, thinking it through. “Right…it’s got to be the ‘legs’ bit so what rhymes with legs…? Eggs, kegs, pegs, segs…”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’.”
“You’ve forgotten already,” Issy explained. “With cockney rhyming slang, the primary word rarely rhymes, it’s the second word which rhymes, and it’s usually omitted from the sentence.”
“Right! So, what goes with legs then rhymes? Legs akimbo? No wait, ‘legs eleven’ means ‘heaven’, so the sentence would be ‘nice heaven, shame about the boat’. Nah, doesn’t make sense!”
“That’s because you’ve got the wrong word.” Issy explained.
“OK, ‘legs eleven’ equals…”
“No, it’s not ‘legs eleven’.”
“OK, legs…”
“No, it’s not ‘legs’. You’ve obviously got a thing about legs.”
“How’d you guess? Anyway, I give up! Give me a clue.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘boat’.”
“OK, boat. What goes with boat? Er, boat dock? Equals ‘cock’. That would mean the sentence is ‘Nice legs, shame about the cock’. I can’t see a woman saying that to a man! Even for someone as coarse as you!”
Issy started laughing. “You might say it to a Thai lady-boy!” she pointed out and started laughing even harder. “Trust you to develop a whole new phrase!”
“OK, what is it? I give up,” Andy advised.
“The ‘boat’ in the sentence stands for ‘Boat Race’, after the famous annual boat race between Oxford and Cambridge universities. So, ‘Boat Race’ equals ‘face’, so the real meaning would be, ‘nice legs, shame about the face’. In this instance, it’s not very PC; it’s the sort of thing blokes might say when they’re talking about which birds they’ve got their eye on when they’re on the pull. But, as long as you remember ‘boat equals face’ then you can use ‘boat’ in any sentence instead of ‘face’, like ‘he just got punched in the boat’.”
“You cockney’s are weird. ‘Boat Race’, ‘birds’, ‘on the pull’? Everything you say is like talking a different language and yet you call it English!”
“Could be worse. You could call a tap a faucet.”
“Touché!” Andy acknowledged.
“Anyway, that’s what you love about us Brits,” Issy suggested.
“Not the only thing,” Andy added with a leer.
“Have another beer to cool yourself down, Cowboy. I’m off to bed – alone!”
Issy patted Andy’s arm gently and headed for her bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent night’s sleep and she was hoping, no praying, that tonight would be different.
The End
Author’s Note
Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed the journey.
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