Page 18 of Storm of Bells
I gathered all my courage. ‘No, Sir. Myadvertising campaign has already been launched.’
‘That,’ Mr Ambrose responded, his voicelowering to a dangerous tone, ‘is what I deduced when I sawthis.’ He thumped the paper in front of him. I cranked myneck, but couldn’t catch sight of the advertisement printed belowhis knuckles. ‘But then I thought,’ he continued in a whisper, ‘No!Mr Linton is a moderately competent secretary and marginally saneperson. He would not go out and launch a nationwide advertisingcampaign on a new product without showing me his plans, withouteven getting the go-ahead!’
Sweat started trickling down my neck.Magicking a charming smile onto my face, I shrugged. ‘Oh, you knowwhat you always say. Knowledge is power is time is money. How couldI possibly waste your valuable time? I didn’t want to disturb youin your important work.’
‘How very considerate of you. Do you knowwhat I also often say?’
‘N-no?’
‘Disastrous advertising campaigns cost money!Incompetent employees get fired!’
Thoughtfully, I scratched my head. ‘I’mtrying to remember, but right now I can’t recall a single instanceof you saying that. Are you sure? Because if you had—’
‘Silence!’
I closed my mouth.
‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Why did you not come formy approval?’
I considered for a moment. ‘Err…because youmight not have given it?’
‘That’s the wholepointof asking forapproval, Mr Linton! Denying it is my prerogative as youremployer!’
I snapped my fingers. ‘Iknewtherewas something I didn’t like about this employment thing.’
‘You…you…ifrit!’
I grinned. I just couldn’t help it.
‘Wipe that smirk off your face, Mr Linton!This is serious!’
‘Of course, Sir. Right away, Sir.’
‘Do you have any idea what damage thishair-brained scheme of yours is going to cause? How much money willbe wasted on insane, idiotic advertising?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly call my ideainsane—’
‘Indeed?’ Eyes sparkling with frost, MrAmbrose snatched up the paper from the desk and thrust it at me.His finger jabbed at a broad, colourful advertisement on the frontpage. ‘Then what else would you callthis?’
My eyes slid to the advertisement. I had toadmit, the designer had done a quite admirable job. The pictureshowed two children, one on the right, lying in bed, the other onthe left, happily playing in the garden. In the middle, there was abig, shiny bag and right underneath, in cheery, happy handwritingwas displayed the proud message:
COCAINE COUGH DROPS
Instantly Effective! Happy children guaranteed!
Only 1 penny perbag![8]
I looked up.
‘You’re right. I should have added a snappyslogan. It’s missing something, don’t you think?’
A muscle in Mr Ambrose’s jaw twitched. ‘Mydissatisfaction is not aimed at the lack of a slogan.’
‘Oh? You like my work, then? Fabulous!’Throwing my arms around him, I hugged him close. ‘I’m so glad youapprove.’
A growl issued from his throat. Hurriedly, Iretreated to a safe distance.
‘Cocaine cough drops? Mr Linton, areyou quite seriously saying that…that…I mean,sweets forchildren?’
