Chapter Twenty-One
Weapons and tossing
“Being slow to act often gets quicker results.”—Kate
Beryl stood at the top of the table in the room with a view, which was empty apart from Bette and a flashing intercom.
She was seething.
She’d been summoned to solve the unsolvable, to save a mess not her making, and she was to do it with bugger-all budget and no recognition whatsoever.
“We have trouble brewing,” said Bette.
“Your beverage centre?” said Beryl with a straight face.
“And you’re to fix it.”
“Fix it? What am I, a magician? What about the pickling wall?” said Beryl.
Bette wafted smoke from the intercom with a tut. “There will be no wall without a gym, will there?”
“Impossible,” said Beryl. “I can’t quell discontent on my own.”
Bette huffed; her dreams for a wall were buggered
