At the very moment that I placed my Christian Louboutin mule in Salty’s door, dear Reader, I heard a whistle.

I turned.

It was the CEO of Taizhou, my esteemed colleague, Dr Jade Dragon. She was waving something at me.

‘Jade, dear’, I said. ‘Has no one taught you it is unseemly to whistle?’

‘Dr Lamb!’ she cried. ‘The secret is out! This scurrilous rag has published the remuneration of the most highly paid University Pro-Vice-Chancellors!’

I paused, and read the list carefully.

‘But I do not appear to be mentioned, dear Jade’, I say. ‘Surely there has been some sort of oversight?’

Jade looks a little embarrassed.

‘Ah’, says Jade. ‘It is the exchange rate, and your claim for cat-biscuit-related expenses. You have been bumped by no. 7.’

‘I’m sure No. 7 is worth his weight in gold,’ I say. ‘How often have I heard him mutter the words “Top 10 or Bust!” Do send him one of my congratulatory macaroons.’

As Jade hurries away I turn back to the task in hand.

But alas, dear Reader, Salty’s door is now firmly closed.

 

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4 thoughts on “Come in no. 7

  1. Surely you could slide through the gap under the door dear Ada? (First get Cordelia to iron you Flat like the eponymous Stanley – or better still arrange to have a giant pinboard fall on you.)

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