Eight

Henri Dalcroix, nothing French but the name, sat in the small committee room of the students’ union of the University of Canterbury staring at the wall. The whole building was of a functional sixties design, the only hint of comfort being the paint covering the breeze blocks. This was the first meeting of the inner committee of Greensoc, the University undergraduate’s environmental society, emphasis on the mental he thought. He’d been here an hour now and he was bored, very bored indeed.
Chairman Louis Holding was true to his name, holding the talking stick and literally beating the committee to death. He was an earnest middle class boy from Surrey. Henri suspected his parents rode with the local hunt and this was Louis’ way of assuaging his family guilt. Next Louis sat Susan Blackwell, a pretty girl with a fine figure. Henri didn’t think she was aware of her sex appeal that was almost, but not quite, hidden underneath a grey shapeless jumper and bulky fatigues. Susie had a passionate belief that all humans were destroying the planet and was prepared to do anything to save it. He smiled, Susie’s resolve was about to be tested. Henri had no real interest in the environment either way. He had joined Greensoc for one reason, to get into Isla Shaw’s pants. This had taken a few weeks of protest marches and writing mass e mails, but success came eventually and, just as Isla’s father had feared, he had been making regular deposits into his daughter’s slot since the middle of November.

Louis had finally finished speaking and called for any other business. Here we go thought Henri, the rollercoaster is at the top of the climb and I’m in the front looking down at the drop.

“Yes” began Isla in a very business like way “Over Christmas I have been researching new avenues of protest and this seems a way of making our message heard” She dug Henri in the ribs and he dutifully handed around Isla’s version of econudes. The look on Louis’ face was priceless. The rest of the committee began to shift uneasily in their seats as the full portent of Isla’s vision began to strike home. In times of crises, however, true class will always triumph.

“Well Isla” began Susie “I’m not too sure of some of these claims, I doubt the energy saved on washing clothes would compensate for the extra heating involved”

The committee began to settle, it’s most ardent activist, was cutting straight into the heart of Isla’s plans.

“However,” she continued “I do think that when summer comes we have a strong weapon to wield against unnecessary air conditioning” The committee were as stunned as a fish suddenly confronted by a moray eel. “I’d like to propose we devote the next meeting to devising an action plan for a series of naked protests this summer”

Greensoc was silent, their own personal Galahad had seen the Holy Grail and there was no option but to join her on the quest.