Fast Fiction: Reputations
…The painting had large patches of black, white and orange. There was a skyscraper in one corner and a tunnel in the other - but no people…
The artist is Sir Oliver Thurlow, chairman of the company. But what will the members of the board make of his picture? Richard Mallinson tells an artistic tale.
'Look at this painting,' said Sir Oliver Thurlow, chairman of the company, 'and tell me what you think.'
Ed Pole, the finance director, looked but didn't know what to think.
The painting had large patches of black, white and orange. There was a skyscraper in one corner and a tunnel in the other - but no people.
'I painted it myself,' said Sir Oliver, proudly. He was hoping to persuade his colleagues that it should be hung in the foyer.
'It's neo-distortionist,' said Sir Oliver.
'Neo what?' thought Pole but said nothing.
'Now tell me the truth,' said Sir Oliver, 'what does it do for you?'
Pole looked again. 'Bugger all,' he said and walked away.
'I wish he hadn't said that,' thought Sir Oliver.
*
Next day, Sir Oliver tried to bring the board meeting to a close but the others went on talking as if he wasn't there.
As the words kept pouring out - for and against hanging the painting in the foyer - he tried not to listen.
Should he leave the table and sit in a corner, hands over ears?
Or crawl under the table? But the words would then simply swish about over his head and make him dizzy.
He stayed where he was, at the head of the table, and began to write a letter to an ex-wife, the one with the tar black hair.
Nobody noticed. They were too busy talking. Yack, yack, yack, he thought, always bloody yacking.
Then he realised that Ed Pole was addressing him.
'Reputations are at stake, chairman,' said Pole.
Sir Oliver stopped writing and looked up. He gazed at Pole and then at the others, slowly, one by one. 'Reputations?' he growled. 'What reputations?'
