(1100 words) “Commemorated we were. Commemorated by the king!” said the captain, sweeping an arm out and knocking a glass of water onto the floor, so that it shattered and made everyone jump. “What king was that?” asked Maurice Henry, as an orderly attended to the mess. Captain Sugar puffed on a long cigar. “Why, the king of Liberia of course! On account of us picking up the biggest load in Trinidad in 2014. February it was, eleven thousand containers. Can you imagine it, eleven thousand! Like a fifty-mile long freight train!” “Grandpa, can we go now?” Maurice, just about to ask what the king of Liberia had to do with Trinidad, looked down at his granddaughter, Phoebe. He could see she was tired, in no mood to hear another night’s boastful stories from Captain Sugar. He looked at the captain and raised his eyebrows.
“Well, did you hear about Gary?” Nadine’s face was flushed, as if drunk. “No.” “He’s just beaten the telesales record for the year and he’s only been here a month!” It was July. “What?!” “Well, Malcolm just posted the sales on the board. Go and look!” She laughed. “Speak of the Devil!” Gary appeared, grinning from ear to ear. He was a ‘ginger,’ and sported a neat beard. A fan of Prince Harry perhaps? “It’s true folks, I’m the number one salesman, sorry, sales person!”