Clyde followed Marcia along a corridor then through the pair of mahogany doors that
led to the anti-room of Herr Kruger’s office. Everything was so familiar now, and Clyde
absorbed it all again, noting minor changes like the arrangement of flowers, his senses
highly tuned.
“Please, wait here for a moment. I will check if Herr Kruger is ready to see you.”
That was another step in the dance. He was always ready, of that Clyde was sure, but
immediate access was never granted. Clyde watched as Marcia rapped gently on the door, he
heard the gruff voice bid her enter then she disappeared.
There would be a five minute wait – that never varied. Clyde elected to stand and
reacquaint himself with his surroundings. As always his eye was drawn to the Modigliani
nude that adorned the wall to the side of Marcia’s station. Its simplicity was
breath-taking, light and ephemeral – everything stripped away. Then he saw in the nearby
mirror the very opposite – a complex man covered in defensive layers that weighed heavily
on his shoulders. He saw jet black hair that was expensively cut; handsome, almost roguish
facial features that betrayed his Anglo-Italian ancestry. He saw a broad six feet frame
covered by a smart business suit – the protective uniform that disguised what lay beneath.
Only one man had ever seen through it and stripped the defences away – a master of the
art, just like Modigliani.
“Herr Kruger is ready for you.”
Clyde felt a sudden shiver as Marcia awoke him from his reverie. He turned to see
the woman standing at the door beckoning him to enter, just like she had done three months
before when Clyde had come here in response to the call that had so irrevocably changed
his life. Then he had only a vague idea of what to expect; now he still wasn’t sure, but
he had a fair inkling of what lay in store over the next couple of hours. They were hours
that he had come to yearn for; hours that sustained him during the course of the following
week. He had not realised until yesterday when the threat of cancellation almost blew him
away, how much he had come to depend on his weekly meeting with one of the most powerful
men in Private Banking. He was addicted to the time Herr Kruger afforded him; a dependency
that scared him yet thrilled him to the core.
Forcing an outward calm that belied the caldron of his inner emotions, Clyde walked
towards Marcia and then through the door. He scanned the room as the door closed behind
him. As always there was no one there.
Now knowing the steps that he had learned on that first cold and wintry January day,
Clyde approached the huge desk that stood at the far end of the room, centred between two
tall windows through which the early evening spring light poured. On the far side of the
desk was a stylish brown leather office chair, and on the near side a single tall,
straight-backed wooden chair. The desk itself was bare save for a silver box with a hand
written note baring Clyde’s name at the top.
Following the dance, Clyde picked up the note and read it. The words still thrilled
him even though they never changed.
Clyde,
Please take a seat then open the box and do with the contents as you think fit. I
shall join you presently.
D F Kruger
Before acting on the instructions, Clyde took a moment as always to look around the
room, trying to form an impression of the man was to join him, and who was no doubt
watching from some hidden location or perhaps on a screen via CCTV. That moment was
shorter than the week before, following the pattern of diminishing time. He knew the room
would reveal nothing new. It was a very comfortable and generously sized work space,
tastefully appointed, but with nothing personal in view. In addition to the desk with its
two contrasting chairs, there was a meeting table which seated eight, and a more relaxed
area with easy chairs around a coffee table and a well stocked drinks cabinet standing
nearby. The walls were adorned with pieces of fine art, which changed on a monthly basis.
Impressionism was April’s theme, and Clyde had no doubt that the ‘Water Lilies’ he spotted
was an original Monet. Fixed to the walls to the left and right of the desk were matching
modern sculptures, crafted in wrought iron – they were visually challenging, and as Clyde
found out the previous week, they were also surprisingly functional.
Clyde smiled recalling that part of the session; then the smiled deepened as he
looked to one of the two other doors to the room. It was behind that door that Herr Kruger
undoubtedly waited, in some private sanctum from which he could observe.
Still smiling, Clyde took a seat. He reached forward and raised the lid of the
silver box. His heart was pounding as it had been before on each occasion he had sat in
this room and undergone this bizarre ritual. There was no surprise when he noticed the
contents, not any more. Not like the first time when he had gazed in shock at the black
silk scarf that lay inside.
‘...do with the contents as you think fit...’
Now that had certainly grabbed his attention three months ago when he had read the
instructions and saw the silk scarf! Then he was unsure. Not of what was expected, that
had already been made clear, he was unsure of which road he should take.
Clyde could still hear the words that had shocked him to the core when Herr Kruger
had spoken to him on the phone that first and only time he had called...
“The choice will be yours, Mr. Jenkins,” Herr Kruger had said after a preamble that
was curt, but in no way rude. “Decide beforehand who you wish to take control of the
meeting. If you elect yourself for the role then I will give you my undivided attention
for one hour. Use the time to sell to me if that is what you want to do. I have a
significant budget surplus which I am sure you could convince me to spend with you. I will
buy if the solution fits our needs, in a timescale that meets your requirements...
Alternatively you can take a leap of faith and cede control to me. I will know straight
away of your decision. In which case, I expect the same courtesy... give me one hour to
show you a more personal solution that might fit immediate and long term needs for us
both.”
That was three months ago, and so much had happened since. Clyde took the leap, and
had made the same choice every subsequent week; refusing the temptation to take control of
the encounter and make the biggest sale of his life, in a time of increasing business
desperation. It still seemed incredible that he had made that choice, and even more so
that Herr Kruger had given it to him. How had he known before they had met that Clyde
would even contemplate taking such a step – it was so at odds with everything Clyde
portrayed to the world. It was a mystery to Clyde. But Herr Kruger had obviously seen
something deep inside him – how and when Clyde had no idea. He had called on the bank
several times; so perhaps on the CCTV, or through a spy hole in the wall. It didn’t matter
how – all that mattered was that he had seen it. He had seen Clyde Jenkins and saw a
converse to himself – a symbiotic partner for an aspect of his life. Clyde had made his
decision and had never looked back. And since that day he had been led down a path that
fulfilled a huge need and released his soul – made him feel human again.
Clyde took one more look around the room then picked up the silk cloth and wrapped
it carefully around his head, blindfolding himself completely. Every week the choice had
been the same: take control for himself, see the man, sell to him and make his target,
become the hero, a legend in his time... or put on the blindfold and cede control; forsake
the veneer and strip away the layers; go against everything he outwardly projected... and
find his own true self.
Once he had darkened his vision, Clyde sat ramrod-straight, and clasped his hands
behind the back of the chair. Shuddering slightly, Clyde took another long, deep breath.
He felt his heart racing, his blood pounding in his ears. What a journey he had been taken
on, and this was to be the ultimate step – the final stage in the path. And Clyde was
ready. Oh, God, how he was ready! It felt like his whole life had been building up to this
point, and now it had finally arrived.
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