July 22, 2015 by helenwaldron
“Ah, Berlin is so great!” exclaimed Speakeasy, as the taxi drew up at the Gendarmenmarkt. “Is this where we’re staying?”
“It’s the second best hotel in Berlin,” laughed Writewell. “Oscar’s agent was quite apologetic. The G8 summit is in town and everything is booked up. They had to pull strings to get us rooms at all.”
“The G8 summit finished last week,” Speakeasy was perplexed.
“Well yes, but they still have to debrief the staff, debug the hotel, and so on.”
“Was that a joke?”
“I’m not sure. Oh, look, there’s Jean-Claude! Who’s he talking to? That man looks familiar…”
Jean-Claude finished talking, or rather listening, and the other man moved away with an angry expression on his face.
“Whoever he is, he doesn’t look happy to see him,” Speakeasy commented.
“Oh well,” reflected Writewell. “You can’t win so many prizes and be so successful without making some enemies.”
“I suppose not,” answered Speakeasy, who was a bit of a schmoozer himself.
Another taxi drew up. Oscar got out, saw Jean-Claude and the two men embraced wordlessly.
This was because they didn’t have a common language to speak in.
“Great to see you again,” said Writewell loudly.
“How are you?” shouted Speakeasy.
Jean-Claude and Oscar both blushed and shook hands enthusiastically.
Only Ken was missing now. Soon their group would be complete.
For the last three years Speakeasy and Writewell had been trying to teach the three men English.
Oscar’s wife Diana called them the “Absolute Beginners”.
But when the three men got together they called themselves “The Unteachables.”