Read Online Terms & Conditions by Robert Glancy - Free Book Online Page A

veneers, said, ‘No, no. This company doesn’t just make missiles or drones and things; they also make medical equipment, they make incredible metal alloys for . . .’ Oscar’s shallow knowledge ran dry and he waved his hand and said ‘. . . and other stuff. Come on, cheer the fuck up, will you,’ then he punched me on the shoulder and walked off whistling.

TERMS & CONDITIONS OF
    ### ###### ##### #####
    Later that day, I was sitting at my desk when this fellow approached me.
    â€˜Frank?’
    â€˜Hello. Who are you?’
    â€˜Your brother hired me. I work in the [pause] division.’
    I laughed and said, ‘You’re the invisible lawyer behind the Chinese Wall barbed by super-injunctions. Pretty ridiculous when you think about it, isn’t it?’
    He didn’t smile when he said, ‘I can neither confirm nor deny that it’s ridiculous.’

TERMS & CONDITIONS OF SAVIOURS
    Don’t be surprised if they turn up in trainers.
    Reliving my past was a punishing experience and as I clutched my coffee cup I was aware that everything remained the same – my cold coffee; the
May Contain Nuts
contract; spilled sugar still glittered like a sweet constellation – yet everything was different. I was different –
or the same
. I was Frank again.
    My beautiful barista came over and asked if I was OK. She explained that I’d been laughing hysterically and freaking out people in the café. I noticed her hips, so invitingly wide, and her slight belly bent out towards me.
    In a daze I heard myself ask, ‘Do you know of a place that doesn’t have lawyers?’
    She looked at me meaningfully and said, ‘How do you mean?’
    â€˜A place without lawyers, without contracts, a place where people aren’t always protecting their own backs, maybe a place where people don’t even speak English.’
    â€˜Oh, right,’ she said. ‘Yeah, I know just the place. I went to Majorca last summer and half the bloody people there didn’t even speak any English. It was a friggin’ nightmare.’
    She smiled her sweet smile and left me to my confused thoughts. I looked down at the contract screwed up tight in my fist. Then I let my head hang low, staring blankly at the floor, where I think I would have remained for hours had my peripheral vision not been broken by some strange black trainers. My eyes moved up a pair of dark moleskin trousers, past a crisp white shirt to Doug, who had a look of such terrible concern etched on his face that I said, ‘My God, what’s wrong, Doug?’*
    * Before I realised his concern was directed at me. I was what was wrong.
    â€˜Come on, Frank,’ he said. ‘Let’s have a bit of quiet time.’
    Without saying a word, I followed. In his office Doug made tea, pulled his chair over and sat beside me. He didn’t speak, didn’t ask questions, he just remained quiet until I said, ‘I’ve started to remember . . . things.’
    â€˜That’s great news,’ Doug said but, reading my expression, added, ‘or not?’
    I began, ‘I hate Oscar, I work for an arms manufacturer and . . .’ And then – before I had time to stop it – I started crying. Doug handed me tissues and tears kept coming. He rubbed my shoulder and, for a moment, his hand felt like the only thing anchoring me to reality.* It seemed he understood this because he didn’t move for a long time before saying, ‘Yes, um . . . that does sound like the old Frank I once knew.’
    * As soon as he moved his hand I feared that I’d drift off into weightless insanity.
    Snot started to chase the tears running down my face as I said, ‘Oscar and Alice didn’t tell me any of this when I asked about my old life. They told me everything’s fine, that I was just a bit stressed.’
    â€˜Listen, Frank. Don’t believe everything you hear.’
    In a childish weeping jag I