‘Who Is Alex’

August 2019

Preface

I was up at daybreak for my early morning run. The air was still and fresh as I looked at the wisps of mist rising above the gardens opposite. Some unknown impulse saw me turn left rather than right and I ran an easy stride, not certain where this might lead. Hardly a car about to pollute the atmosphere at this time and all felt good. I ran for a mile or so and decided to change direction towards Hyde Park, to get off the unforgiving hard pavements. Ahead was a controlled crossing and a dark blue Jag slowed for the Red lights alongside me. I turned right to cross the road, on the zebra stripes and nodded a ‘Thank you’ to the driver who I suddenly recognised as Gerald. I raised my hand in salute of acknowledgement when the engine gave off a piercing scream and my lower legs caught fire. I soared gracefully over the bonnet, towards the windscreen and witnessed an evil grin on Sir Gerald’s face. Next to him I noted, his father, my father, Lord Renton was raising his arms in alarm. As quickly as the pain escalated, it dissipated, to be replaced by a brilliant white light that went on for ever and ever and ever and ever, peace.

The Metropolitan Police appealed for witnesses to no avail.

The Evening Standard reported a massive turnout of mourners at the funeral service, held at St. Mary’s, with people crowded in the aisles and spilling out onto the pavement.

A few days later, a helicopter, on a routine flight, flew over Oxfordshire and ashes were scattered from on high.

KONIEC

A final paragraph from Renton Jnr. Available to purchase on Amazon books.

Chapter 1

The peaceful North London night was drastically shattered by police and ambulance sirens, flashing blue, amber and red lights accompanied by roaring engines and screeching tyres, as a series of vehicles roared up to a halt outside the A&E Department of a North London hospital. A posse of doctors in white coats, nurses in blue and porters in green uniforms were at the ready with trolleys, and essential lifesaving equipment, under the bright arc lights.

Triage was carried out by doctors as the patients were unloaded from the ambulances. Unfortunately, many were immediately destined for the morgue. The fortunate were swiftly wheeled to the emergency wards where life support was readily available. Some were destined directly to operating theatres where surgeons and assisting staff waited.

A group of ashen faced ambulance drivers, in a corner of the yard, drawing hard on cigarettes, were discussing the carnage they had witnessed on the M1, south of the M25 ring road. Apparently, an articulated lorry had jack-knifed and was hit by a number of vehicles including a coach of footballers and supporters all the way from Paisley, Glasgow. The coach had turned over and burst into flames. The passengers, asleep and all strapped in had difficulty escaping the flames. The fire, police and ambulance services were immediately alerted but took some time to get to the conflagration. Helpful car and lorry drivers in stranded vehicles did all they could to drag people away from the fire but could do nothing for those trapped inside the coach. Two helicopters were called to the scene to get the injured to hospital.

A Consultant, in a white coat, too big for him, was attending to a badly burnt patient, shaking his head in dismay.

"Nurse, unhook this fellow and you guys with the gurney, take him to the morgue. We can't do any more for him. I shall be back in a minute to handle the next victim nurse," he said and swiftly left the ward.

Two porters expertly transferred the body to the gurney as another patient was wheeled in with the nurse taking care of the life support equipment in readiness for the new arrival. In the rush, a porter found a plastic folder with a business card inside, on the floor beneath the bed, retrieved it, stuck it safely under the body and nodded to his mate to move off.

A few minutes later the consultant arrived in a rush and immediately inspected the new patient. He spoke into his recorder.

"OK nurse, let's have a blood sample immediately. We need to double check in this chaos. He's unconscious, head injury. Clean that up nurse so that we can see the full extent of the damage. Compound fracture of the right leg. He seems to have a lot of graze marks on him."

"Yes Sir," answered the nurse, lifting the right buttock. "There's more on his back and shoulder. He must have been thrown onto the road."

"You're right Lesley. He's a lucky beggar to escape the flames. He must have been standing in the aisle of the coach and been thrown out. He looks more like a hit and run victim with skid marks off the road. Have we any ID on this fellow?" asked the Consultant, inspecting the head area.

"The info says he's Alistair MacSwall from Glasgow," said the nurse, reading from the sheet at the foot of the bed, hesitating over the name. "So, he must have been on the coach."

"Yeah probably. The lacerations on his scalp are quite severe though I can't see or feel any swelling or fracture there. Put him down for an X-ray immediately and I want an MRI scan asap, of the head and get his fracture seen to. Now are we getting any readings?" said the Consultant, as he closely inspected the rest of the body.

"Breathing a bit jerky, pulse not too high, blood pressure slightly up but he's in better shape than the others I've seen tonight. I'll shave his head so that we can get a clearer view of his head injuries. He looks very fit, very muscular. I suspect that has saved him from the worst," said the nurse as she attacked his flowing locks with a pair of scissors.

"OK Lesley, I'll leave you to it. I have just been beeped to provide relief at the operating theatre. Keep me informed of his wellbeing," he said as he hurried out of the room, clutching a mobile to his ear.

A few days later Alistair was to the whole world peacefully asleep in bed, his leg in plaster and his shaved head sporting a fair array of stitches. Lesley, his personal nurse was ensuring that all was spick and span in readiness for the House Doctor’s morning rounds. She puffed up the pillows, straightened the sheet around him and checked on his feeding tube. The House Doctor arrived with a posse of junior doctors and students.

“Hello Lesley, how is our patient doing today? He looks very peaceful.”

“He’s doing fine so far. We are waiting on the results of his MRI scan of the head, the leg is now in plaster and we stitched up the gashes in his head. Mr. Harman has been to see him a few times and detected some swelling which will need investigating. All of his other functions are operating normally.”

“Thanks Lesley. I presume that he has been in a coma since he arrived. What’s this fellow’s name?”

“It’s Alistair MacSwall. A bit like Maxwell I think. Age thirty-two but doesn’t look that old to me. That’s what his driving license says. There’s a plastic bag of his essential belongings in the bed side table there. I had his burnt clothes incinerated,” said Lesley, anticipating more questions.

“Right folks we have here the luckiest patient to have survived the crash on the M1 a few days ago. Somehow, he managed to escape any of the intense burning that all of the other members of this coach party suffered. Probably was wandering about the coach whilst his mates were asleep and got thrown out onto the road hence the injuries to the head, leg and severe abrasions. I say lucky but he is in a comatose state and we don’t as yet know what damage has been done to the brain. We will know in the fullness of time. OK, let’s move on to more severe patients of that fateful crash. Thanks Lesley.” The party trooped out on their way to the next patient all looking apprehensive of what horrors might meet them.

Two days later, Alistair found himself in an operating theatre having his skull cut open to relieve the swelling and investigate any further damage to the brain. A steel plate was inserted to allow further investigations if necessary. After four intensive hours in the theatre, he was wheeled back to his room where Lesley was waiting. She hooked him up to the life support equipment, checking his state and recording every detail on his chart. She turned on the radio to a music station hoping that her patient might just pick up the sound. She was about to routinely massage his arms and legs but decided that Alistair had suffered enough trauma for the day. Checking the CCTV camera was operating, she blew him a kiss and was off to see to her other patients.

A week later, Alistair was still in a comatose state but stable in all other functions. He was moved out of the intensive care ward into a more general ward but still hooked up to an array of monitors and feeding tubes. Two junior nurses came every morning to massage him all over. Giggles would erupt as they massaged his thighs and a huge erection would appear. They weren’t quite sure whether they should give that a few strokes or not. Lesley, his personal nurse would pass by regularly and check on his well-being, blowing him a kiss on departure. She was rather fond of this perfect patient.

It was approximately thirteen months from his entry to the hospital that Alistair showed signs of waking up from his long coma. The nurses used to joke that Lesley should kiss him on the lips to wake him up but no such luck. One early morning the night nurse was alerted to noise and movement from Alistair and in the dim light he opened his eyes and he moaned loudly. She summoned the House Doctor who suggested that they remove the feeding tube to see if they could get any word from him at this stage, to no avail. It was ten days before he started to respond with the odd word and was able to be fed with a spoon and swallow down his food. Lesley passed by more frequently to attend to him and set up the TV set so that he could watch and listen all day long. Massaging his limbs was now more rigorous in the hope that he would quickly rise from his bed and get proper exercise. It was a month before he could get out of his bed and with a zimmer frame, making his way to the toilet, with some assistance. Mr. Harvey, a consultant came regularly to check on his mental health, particularly his speech. It was slow to develop though he seemed to understand what was being said to him. The hospital staff quickly realised that he had no memory of his horrendous accident and in fact no memory of anything prior to coming out of his coma. Mr. Harvey suspected that the amnesia might be temporary since the patient was in such fine physical health even though he had lost over five stone in weight through his days in an immobile comatose state. Alistair was pale and gaunt, verging on the anorexic. Lesley urged him to eat and eat as much as he could, exercise by walking briskly about the hospital and spend his resting time in the sunny conservatory.

Alistair donned a white lab coat over his pyjamas, making him look like a doctor rather than a patient, would set off wandering throughout the hospital exploring as he went. Often, he would be stopped by patients in bed expecting the latest diagnosis. He would stop, chat for a while and was regularly asked for a cup of tea or to buy something from the shop. Cups of tea or coffee were easy. Each ward or set of wards would have a kitchenette or rest room for the nurses where he would not only make drinks for the patients but also for the weary nurses. He became well known for being very helpful, adjusting the TV, setting the bed and even feeding the infirm. He became an unpaid porter and was very popular. He was even provided with his own pager.

All hospitals have problem with lost property which is a general euphemism for patients leaving belongings behind and staff just mislaying their personal items. These are usually dumped in a distant storeroom and forgotten about. In this particular hospital this junk spread over three large rooms, some previously designated to hold spare equipment or pieces designated to be sent off for repair. It was an Aladdin’s cave where nothing could be found. The maintenance manger asked Alistair if he could make sense of the materials in there and try and clear them away. He gave him two weeks to make progress and then he would hire a skip and dump all the stuff.

Alistair saw it as a challenge. He started dividing the stuff into belonging to patients, staff and hospital equipment. The obvious junk such as odd shoes, toothbrushes, old magazines, bits of clothing just got binned. Anything belonging to staff or former patients with name tags or even just addresses were investigated and returned to the owners or binned with their permission. That cleared out half the stock and Alistair could now see the wood from the trees. He then concentrated on the hospital equipment that needed repair or checking. Some went to the technicians to check or repair or was sent away to specialists for calibration. He was then left with an assortment of electrical equipment, cell phones, hairdryers, tablets, kettles, toasters, electrical toothbrushes, radios. A technician suggested he should pick out a decent tablet, cell phone a small radio for himself and he would set them up for him. The rest would be collected by a charity and sold on after checking. In twelve days he had cleared out the three rooms, brushed and mopped them out to the pleasure of the maintenance manager.

He would consume mountains of food but his weight increase was very slight. Insomnia was his main problem, though that didn’t bother him much. At night he would use his tablet and check out YouTube and the TED talks. He even signed up for an Open University course in ancient history. An occasional hour’s power nap in a high back wing chair was sufficient to revive him. He took about four of these naps every twenty-four hours so he was active most of the time.

Regular visits to the psychoanalyst to try and regain some of his past memories always ended in failure. He couldn’t remember a thing of his past life. On the other hand, he could clearly remember every detail of his conscious life post the coma. The psychoanalyst described it as hyperthymesia. On his rounds of the hospital, he could remember every person’s name he was introduced to or overheard, even visitors. This didn’t adversely impact his well-being, having a data overload. He seemed to recall the information when required. A photographic memory was another attribute he had. He could simply scan twenty pages of a book then read and imbibe the information at leisure. This was a great boon in his studies of history where he could arrange masses of facts in chronological order and recall at will.

The day came when the Consultants recognised that they couldn’t do any more for him other than improve his physical well-being. They decided to transfer him to a hospital in Paisley, Glasgow where hopefully the familiar surroundings might jog his memory. He was flown to Prestwick airport in a private plane with a number of his football mates who were being discharged plus a number of urns of ashes and coffins of his former teammates and supporters.

Chapter 2

Again, he spent a month in hospital under intense observation which concluded that they couldn’t do any more for him in regaining his former memory. His time at Paisley General was spent as a voluntary porter with his own pager. The hospital enjoyed his presence because he was a skilled helper and didn’t occupy a bed since a high back chair in the staff room was enough for him. The patients enjoyed his services, chats, shopping, cups of tea, ordering meals on the TV and setting up their programmes. He was often seen pushing a trolley around the wards, handing out purchases, magazines, newspapers and topping up drinks.

Eventually the hospital decided that they would have to discharge Alistair to find his own way in the world, away from the hospital. He was assigned a Social Service Officer, Emma Stoneworth who was a feisty Scots lady, only five foot three in her stocking feet but bolstered up by high wedged shoes. Auburn hair and attractive face bolstered with a cheery smile; she was introduced to Alistair in the Hospital reception. She took an instant shine to Alistair since he was tall, good looking though extremely thin, wearing what she would describe as a demob suit, an ill-fitting brown suit and clumpy black leather shoes. The most important thing in her mind was that he was softly spoken, gentle, polite, unlike her normal vagabond charges.

“Right Alistair, let’s get you out of here and to my office. I have a car,” she said looking Alistair up and down. “You look most uncomfortable in those clothes. They are totally the wrong sizes not to mention the awful colours. I’ve seen better army demob civvies than that.”

“Sorry but that’s what the Hospital gave me,” answered Alistair. They couldn’t send me onto the street in hospital scrubs, could they?”

“I suppose not but this is what we will do. Let’s walk to the High Street and get you some more appropriate gear, at least something that fits and is more appropriate to a young man about town,” she said as she skipped down the entrance steps with Alistair in tow.

They passed a charity shop and in the window on display was a beige denim jacket. “I quite like that and it’s cheap,” said Alistair. “I can afford that.”

“Don’t worry about the money. Social Services will fund the initial outlay to set you up. OK, let’s go in and check this jacket out,” said Emma as she barged open the door and ushered Alistair in. The jacket fitted although on the large size. He was fitted out with a black T-shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans and some trainers. His suit, shirt, shoes were donated to the shop. When Emma announced that she was from the Social Services the Manageress would take no payment.

“Goodness, you look much better in that outfit than in that awful suit Alistair. Now let’s go to M&S and get you some other stuff.” She bought him a huge bag of clothes including underwear, PJ’s, socks, T-shirts, handkerchiefs, belt plus two pairs of chino pants because he found the jeans uncomfortable. Most things came in multiples. Wear and wash remarked Emma. “Let’s get back to the car and since we have a busy day ahead, instead of taking you to the office, we’ll talk in the car. I have your file and it says that you can’t remember a thing about the accident. Is that still the case?”

“True, since I have come out of the coma, I can’t remember anything of my past. I fully recovered my health during my coma and I have tried to piece my life together from fragments in my wallet,” answered Alistair as they piled his shopping into the boot and climbed into the car, Alistair racking the seat back to its final notch. “I even had to learn to speak again. I spent much of my time on YouTube catching up on life and the world outside of the hospital.”

“OK, I’m going to take you to your only living relative, your grandmother Rudi. She lives in an apartment in a block for older folk. The insurance paid out compensation on your supposed death and she used it to buy the apartment. Don’t worry she won’t have to pay it back. The compensation for survivors is three times as much. We’ll sort something out. Here we are. I’ll do the introductions and see if it jogs your memory at all. Here goes,” stated Emma as they walked up the drive to Rudi’s door and rang the bell. A shout invited them in.

“Hello Rudi, I’ve brought Alistair, your grandson to see you. He’s just out of hospital after a year in a coma so unfortunately can’t remember a thing,” announced Emma as they walked up to an old lady sitting in a chair.

“Hello Alex. I can’t see you very well. My eyesight’s gone and I can’t see well. You seem to have grown since I last saw you,” said Rudi looking most uncomfortable. “I’m glad you survived. It was a shock to lose you. I got lot of money and bought this flat. Will they take it away from me now?”

“Don’t worry Rudi, they won’t take this flat from you. Alistair or Alex as you call him will get more money owing to him since he survived so don’t worry yourself Rudi,” stated Emma. “Alex will come and see you again to have a chat and maybe you can show him some photographs.” Rudi burst into tears.

“The buggers lost all my things in the move, stole them, including my precious photo albums,” cried Rudi as Emma handed out the tissues and tried to console Rudi.

“Come on Alex, we’ll leave Rudi and maybe you come and see her later. Bye Rudi, don’t worry all is safe for you. Alex will call in again in a few days’ time,” said Emma as they backed out of the apartment and into the car.

“Well, we didn’t get much out of her today. She’s more worried about her flat than you Alex. I think you should adopt Alex rather than Alistair, suits you better. Now I’m taking you to your old workplace to talk to the manager there.”

“I don’t remember a thing about working,” said Alex looking puzzled as they pulled into a car park. I’m not sure I’m trained to do anything other than care for people. They pulled into the car park of large premises signed ‘Mc Arthur and Son, Double Glazing Specialist.’

“Hi, I’m David, the new Manager here. Please sit and I’ll call Edna from HR to join us. On the phone you told me that Alistair used to work here. Obviously well before my time so I don’t recognise this fellow.”

“Thank you, David, for seeing us. Unfortunately, Alistair or Alex as he was probably called came out of a long coma and has lost all of his past memory,” stated Emma clearly.

“We were expecting someone to call to pick up his wage packet and go through the formalities. We have a large turnover of staff here and I cleared out some dross when I joined so I doubt if we have anyone who would recognise Alex. Ah here comes Edna. Let me introduce you, Alex and Emma his Social Worker. I’ll let you carry on Edna,” said David and sat down behind his desk as Edna perched on a chair at the side of the desk.

“Good to see you Alex and especially looking so well. I’m new here so didn’t ever know you personally. I was worried about you all a couple of years ago when it was headline news. I’m glad you survived. Now my records show that we owe you a month’s salary plus bonuses. We stopped the direct debit to your bank when my predecessors heard about the fatalities. Any questions?” asked Edna.

“Yes,” replied Emma immediately. “I presume on the announcement you terminated Alex’s employment?”

“Yes, my records show that took place when he was announced deceased. We were never advised that Alex survived. It’s up to David to agree to take Alex on again,” said Edna looking to David.

“Well, this is a difficult decision for me. We don’t have any vacancies at the moment and is Alex in a fit state to take on a job?” answered David looking to Emma for a response.

“Alex has been discharged from hospital and put in Social Services charge. He has been assessed as definitely not ready for normal work for at least six months and to be assessed. I am advised by the Citizen’s Advice Bureau that he should be due to some form of redundancy,” said Emma looking pointedly at David.

“Er yeah, I think we should work something out on those lines. How long did he work for us Edna?”

“Just short of ten years so he should be entitled to a week’s salary plus average bonuses for those years. In this case I think we should be generous. People would expect that. We don’t want a Tribunal to decide,” replied Edna, nodding to David.

“OK, I agree, give him ten weeks plus another two weeks for being an exemplary employee. It says that in his report and last review. Now can we publicize our generosity in our in-house mag?” asked David.

“We certainly wouldn’t object. Your offer is most generous. Now based on Alex’s past record could you write him a reference Edna, so in the future he can look for employment? Here is my card, please send the letter to me. We have yet to find Alex a permanent home. Secondly, we need to set up new bank details. I’ll Email them to you this afternoon. Thanks for your help and generous terms. I’m sure it will help Alex to settle into a new life.” With that they rose, shook hands and Emma led Alex back to the car and drove him back to her office.

“Now Alex, I have set up a new Bank Account for you with Nationwide rather than Clydesdale. Instead of freezing your account they let the direct debits continue, even into a two-thousand-pound overdraft. I’m now in the process of cancelling your overdraft and also claiming a refund post your accident date. Everybody knew of that disaster. Names were posted in all the daily news sheets. That’s a disgraceful behaviour. I shall report them to the Bank Ombudsman if they don’t refund you. Now Alex have you got an Email address? You have, good; send me an Email to my address on the card. Yes, keep it so’s you can contact me.”

“Thanks for all you have done Emma. I’ve sent you an Email,” said Alex as Emma was busy with her Email.

“It’s my job to help you Alex and I’m even enjoying it. I generally have scallywags to deal with, not someone as personable as you. Right the bank account is set up on-line and I shall have all the paperwork and cards for you tomorrow. Now I have to deal with that rogue of a Letting Agent who cleared your account, knowing you weren’t around to prevent the fraud. Not only that, he re-let the flat couple of weeks after the drastic news. He even played football for the same club! What have you got to say to that?” stated Emma in an angry voice.

“Sorry but all this totally beyond my comprehension. I can’t remember a thing so I’m of little help Emma,” said Alex rather sheepishly.

“That’s why they appointed me to help you out. Now I’m going to ring the rogue and have it out with him. I’ll put it on the squawk box so that you can listen in but don’t bother saying anything. I’ll handle this. I’m well practised at it,” said Emma setting the phone between them and dialling.

“Hi it’s Reg. Who’s calling?”

“It’s Emma from Social Services. You arranged a flat for me a year ago.”

“Oh, I remember. How are you, Emma? Do you want to upgrade? I’ve plenty of super ones on the books at the moment.”

“I’m well Reg and thank you for asking. No, it’s on a different matter. Did you know Alister MacSwall, probably known as Alex?”

“Yeah, knew him well. Played football with him until he died in that horrific accident,” answered Reg as Emma stuck her thumb up in victory.

“I’m settling his matters on behalf of his people. My records show that you continued to collect the rent on his flat and re-let it to Susan two weeks after the incident. This smacks of fraud Reg?”

“No, no Emma. It must have been a clerical error. I shall check it out Emma, right away.”

“You do that Reg and I want all the monies returned to the bank account I’m sending to you now. If I don’t get it by end of day, then I will have to take this further. Now stop the spluttering and listen. Do you know that Alex survived the crash?”

“Yeah, there were rumours but he was in hospital in London I heard. That’s why I kept the flat on for him!” shouted Reg.

“Don’t give me that crap. You personally re-let the flat to Susan, fully furnished, telling her to dispose of any Alex’s items not needed. That’s what she said on the phone to me and it’s recorded. Now go and sort out the refund. I have to go now, bye!” as she slammed the phone down with an exclamation of “What a crook!”

“Hey, you were amazing how you bamboozled him,” said Alex. “Most impressed.”

“Don’t be, this is my Job. Oh God look at the time,” exclaimed Emma as she looked at her watch, stood up and grabbed her coat. “Sorry Alex, I have to pick up my two girls from school and I’m late. You’ll have to come with me and I’ll show the accommodation we have sorted out for you. Come on hurry! I shall be upsetting their teachers again,” as she grabbed her briefcase and rushed out of her office with Alex on her heels.

“Right, the parking outside school will be dreadful at this time. You have a driving licence Alex; says so on your file. So when I park on the yellow lines outside the grounds, I’ll jump out and you get in the driving seat and wait until you are moved on then go round the block. Right here we are,” as Emma pulled over and jumped out of the car and ran, not listening to Alex. Alex speedily got out and was about to get into the driving seat when he realised he didn’t know how to drive or at least hadn’t driven for over eighteen months he was reluctant to drive by himself so he lifted the bonnet and stood peering at the engine compartment.

“Hey, you can’t park there mate! Move it!” shouted the school lollypop man,

“Sorry, sods law has struck. I think the fan belt’s broke. Do you know how to fix it?” said Alex looking most forlorn.

“Bugger if I know but you’ll have to shift it before the pole-ce gets here,” he was told as the man went back to supervising the kids across the road. Alex continued fiddling beneath the bonnet. A parent came up and offered help. He told him that a tow truck was on the way. About twenty minutes Emma arrived with two girls in plaid uniforms in tow.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I got in the neck from their teachers again for being late. It’s not the first time. Have you been bothered?”

“Nagh, I fended them off,” as he helped the girls put their huge school satchels in the boot. They got in the car and Emma drove off and introduced the girls who broke out in uncontrollable giggles. “Nice to meet you Samantha and Rachael. Did you have a good day in school?” just brought on more giggles.

“OK girls settle down. We are going to deliver Alex to his new lodgings. Now be good!” scolded mother. “Now Alex, why didn’t you drive around to avoid the hassle?”

“I was trying to tell you that as far as I know I can’t drive,” answered Alex. “I just lifted up the bonnet and pretended to be broken down. I seem to know where to find the correct latch to open the bonnet so I must know something about cars.”

“We are here. Now Alex, I’ll show you the room we have in this hostel. It’s the best we could do. I suggest you leave your stuff in the car until you size up the place. Now girls, you be good and stay in the car. If there is any bother, then hand on the horn and the cavalry will come running.” They both got out of the car and slammed the doors. The building was an unprepossessing tenement block with a grey peeling door and dirty windows with hanging curtains. Emma marched up the steps, pushed open the door and ushered Alex in with a stern look at the girls in the car. A bald-headed man in an untidy state of dress came out of a door and greeted them. He took them upstairs to the first floor and opened the first door with a bunch of keys attached to his belt with a chain.

“This is it. New sheets and pillow,” said the man in a gruff voice. “Here is the key on a string. Keep it on you at all times and don’t leave anything you don’t want to part with. They are a bunch of thieving bastards in here and will get in and rob the place. They get in using plastic on the lock. I’m just warning you, especially when you are in the communal bathroom.”

“So how do you stay safe here?” asked Alex. “Can I upgrade the lock?”

“Yeah, if you can afford it and get it fitted. Is there anything else you need in here?”

“I would like an armchair with a high back. Helps with my bad back,” answered Alex as the warden left.

“Sorry, this is the best I can do,” said Emma. “Can you manage here?”

“I reckon so but I’ll have to get a few of my things from the hospital and the technicians there can advise me on security,” said Alex as he looked around the dingy room. “I’m sure that I can make it more comfortable. Now can you give me a lift back to the hospital? I’ll probably spend the night there.”

“As you wish but it’s getting late and I need to feed the girls.”

“We could all probably need food,” answered Alex as they slammed the door behind them and started down the stairs. “Why don’t I take you all to the hospital restaurant? The food is really good there and it’s all on me. I have to use up all my credits. I can show the girls around too. They will love a tour.”

“I’m sure they will but you don’t need to.”

“It will be my pleasure and a thank you for all the work you have done for me. It’s much appreciated.”

“Alex, in my profession they teach you never to expect any gratitude and you won’t be disappointed. You have made my day. Come on I’m dying to tell the girls,” said Emma as she waltzed out and did a twirl to the amusement of her daughters sitting in the car.

Alex took them around a number of wards where he knew the patients would love to see and chat to the girls. A friendly nurse showed them the equipment she used and hooked the girls up to a heart and blood pressure monitor to their delight and asked them to jump up and down to change the readings. He then escorted the family down to the main restaurant rather than the canteen. They were impressed. The waitresses knew Alex well and they had fabulous service, the girls finishing their meal with a huge knickerbocker glory which was big enough to climb into. Mum had to help out.

“Shall I drive you to your house?” asked Emma.

“I think I would like to spend the night here in the hospital and maybe move in tomorrow when I’ve got some gear together.”

“OK if that’s what you want,” answered Emma as they waltzed out of the restaurant waving bye to the waitresses who had looked after them so well. “Do you want to come down to the car and pick up your purchases?”

“I’ll escort you down but I only need a change of underwear. I’ll leave the rest in the car if I may and pick it up tomorrow.”

“Come by my office at say eleven and we’ll complete all the formalities. I shall have your bank cards by then,” said Emma turning to the girls as they approached the car. “Now girls, say thank you to Alex for a fabulous dinner. That’s it, give him a hug. That’s nice. Now Alex I want to test you out. You say you can’t drive or at least you don’t remember that you can drive. So get in the driver’s seat and just drive us around the now empty car park.”

“OK but on your head be it,” replied Alex as he got into the driving seat, racked it back and held his hand out for the keys. He pulled away gently and drove around the car park quite competently.

“Just reverse into that space,” requested Emma. “Well, well, you can drive. I noticed you automatically shifted the gear stick to Neutral, pushed the clutch down then started the engine with no problem so you do remember instinctively some things you did in the past life. See you tomorrow, Bye,” as she changed seats and pulled away with the girls waving and blowing kisses, giggling all the way.

Alex went back to his usual nurses’ staff room, found his usual armchair and had a power nap for two whole hours. Finding a discarded IKEA bag, he filled it with his meagre belongings out of his locker and went to the lost property room and picked up a kettle, sandwich maker, an old toaster, couple of mugs, plates and some cutlery which had accumulated since he had cleared the place out. Sitting in his armchair he used his tablet until morning when the technicians would arrive. They advised him on which lock to buy to make his room safe and gave him a steel trunk used to transport medical equipment and a piece of chain and advised him to padlock the trunk to his radiator.

Just before eleven he ordered a taxi to take him and his trunk full of his belongings to Emma’s office.

“Hey, good to see you Alex,” greeted Emma, “Come on in and sit. Do you want coffee?”

“Water would be fine.”

“Here you can have this new bottle. Now here are your bank cards. Just sign the backs. Your bank account number is there on the card. I’ve signed you up to online banking and here is the instruction sheet for logging in. So you are all set up. Reg has transferred his refund and your old Company will transfer their money in five days’ time so you won’t go short. You know how to use the hole in the wall, don’t you?” said Emma hardly taking a breath.

“I’ll manage. I’m very grateful to you. I’m not sure I would have managed so much on my own,” answered Alex.

“It’s been a pleasure,” answered Emma. “In fact, I’m going to find ways of keeping you on my case file for as long as possible. You are a gem! Now, I’ve contacted the Insurance Company handling the accident. They have agreed to pay you the residue owed and letting your Grandma to keep what she received. That will go into your account in a few weeks. You are also entitled to housing benefit so your room at the hostel is free. You are also entitled to unemployment pay and I’ve increased that with some disability benefit. That will be paid direct to your bank. Now don’t argue that you don’t need it. You are fully entitled to all of this to get you back on your feet. Now that’s all the admin complete. What are you going to do today?”

“I’m going to get a taxi to a DIY store and buy some locks plus some cleaning equipment and I might even buy some paint to cheer the place up.”

“That’s a good idea. Here are my car keys, so load your stuff in and I’ll take you, my pleasure. I’ll be down in a minute. I have some calls to make,” said Emma, waving Alex out and picking up the phone.

They arrived at the house with a boot load of gear. On opening the door to his room they found it had been ransacked. The new bedding had gone, the bed had been vandalised beyond use and a neat pile of poo had been deposited on the floor.

“That’s not a very nice welcome!” retorted Emma viewing the scene in disgust. “I shall report this to the warden and get him to see to this mess,”

“Please don’t. I can handle this my way,” replied Alex finding a clean space on the floor to deposit his gear as Emma rushed out in anger.

“I saw you coming up, how are you doing,” said the warden as he pushed his way into the room. “Blimy!” he exclaimed. “The buggers! They’ve made a real mess here.”

“Don’t bother just leave it to me, I’ll clean up,” said Alex ushering the warden out, probably to his relief. He set to by first changing the lock to a dead-lock type that couldn’t be opened with a plastic card. He was advised to fit metal strengtheners on the door jamb to stop anybody breaking the door down. Having done that, Alex filled his new bucket in the kitchen, added a squirt of cleaner and mopped the lino until it was sparkling clean. The bed was a mess so he carted it off and dumped it in the little kitchen, totally blocking it to make it difficult to use for his neighbours, to annoy them. After an hours’ power nap in the high-backed chair draped with a covering he had bought, the floor had dried out, he set about cleaning down the walls with many buckets of water and suddenly the room looked brighter and sweeter smelling. The sour smell of sweat mixed with urine had disappeared.

After another hour of power napping, he found the walls relatively dry he decided to paint them. The staff at the DIY store had been very helpful and told him to fix the mop handle to the roller to reach higher and paint much faster. He had bought a twenty-five litre tin of primrose yellow at half price. He used the roller on the ceiling then down the walls, covering the skirting board and even the door. Suddenly the room took on a bright appearance, totally indistinguishable from the original. He used up all the paint with a second coat to the ceiling and some patches on the wall plus the door. The spatters on the floor were quickly mopped up and the paint tin rollers and tray thrown away into the outside bin along with the tatty curtains.

The DIY staff had advised him to buy a total blackout roller blind which was very easy to fit or so they said. He had a screwdriver but needed scissors to cut the blind to the width and also the aluminium tube. This dilemma was solved by remembering that the kind hospital technicians had given him a multi tool with scissors and saw. Using the mop handle to measure the width needed he cut the tube and used the sharp knife to cut the blind to size having marked a line. Screwing up the fittings was easy.

Pleased with his handiwork he chained his tin trunk to the radiator, locked the door with the new dead bolt and went out to get something to eat. On the way he passed a charity shop, wandered in and equipped himself with a microwave, an angle poised lamp, a folding garden table and some kitchen equipment. They even agreed to deliver all the items at the end of the day. On his return to his abode, he found a broken plastic card lying on the floor in front of his door plus a neat footprint and indentation, marking someone’s indignations at not achieving illicit entry.

Over time he got to know his five neighbours. They were a rum bunch of minor thieves, dropouts and drug addicts who spent their time wandering the streets and hanging out in the park. His own life still centred around the hospital. He became a willing volunteer helper and was fully kitted out with uniform and bleeper and spent most days and night there. He saw Emma the Social Worker at various times and confided with her that he felt like a fish out of water in Glasgow. He had no friends out of the hospital and his Southern accent was unwelcome here. He suggested that he should do a Dick Whittington and move to London and asked for advice. She told him that she would contact Social Services in London and collate some information and introductions for him.

Chapter 3

With the help of Emma, Alex found cheap lodgings with an elderly couple in Wade Street in Brixton and she signed him on as an out-patient at a local hospital. The hospital, reading his medical notes immediately assigned a Psychotherapist, Andrea Ashworth, to further investigate his total memory loss.

Diana Longworth and her husband Ralf ran the lodging house and rented out two upstairs rooms. One to Alex at the back and the front room to Ronnie and his mate Alfie, who Diana whispered were gay. Diana liked to be called Daisy, her childhood nickname, and her husband was infirm and unable to climb the stairs. Using a commode, Daisy was forever carting potties up the stairs to the bathroom.

The room and facilities were more than adequate and the terrace just lead off the High Street, full of a wide range of shops and facilities which suited Alex to the ground. Daisy introduced Alex to Ronnie and Alfie who seemed very nice and they offered to show Alex around London since he was a new comer. Daisy invited them all for tea and cakes at four and they would sample her delicious tort. They all agreed to meet in her lounge but wasn’t sure what the tort meant.

The tort was a delicious coffee cake layered with thick buttery cream, laced with whiskey. Ronnie was a lanky lad with deep, penetrating blue eyes, dressed casually in T-shirt and jeans. He wore national health round spectacles and constantly brushed his blond hair back off his face. He announced he was a self-employed IT consultant working from home and would fix Alex up with his own powerful WiFi. Alfie was again tall and thin, ever so much like Alex with short black hair, dressed in regulation white T and jeans. He worked for the Local Council in their housing department. They talked for a while until Daisy ushered them away so that she could attend to her husband. Alex sighed a breath of relief having found decent accommodation and very pleasant neighbours. Daisy gave him the local evening paper so that he could look for a local job. He wanted to divest himself of the benefits and start earning money for himself. There was an advert for part-time warehouse man at an auction house in Peckham. He phoned and was told to turn up at seven thirty next morning on probation.

Checking the map on his phone Alex decided to walk the thirty minutes to acquaint himself with the locality. He was there well in time and met Walter who was opening up the premises. Walter introduced himself as the other overworked warehouseman, showing Alex around, switching on lights putting on the kettle and telling Alex their duties. It appeared that an auction was to begin at ten and they were to set out the chairs and go through the catalogue to find the goods for auction which they would bring up front to the Auctioneer as the sales progressed.

The auctioneer appeared just before ten wearing a smart grey suit and gaudy tie which didn’t quite match. He was of medium height, quite portly, red faced and bald headed. Alex and Walter had already lined up fifty or more of the items as listed which got an appreciative nod from Ruddy the Auctioneer. Alex was fascinated with the way the auction was handled and the methods that Ruddy used to maximise the price, coaxing the public with hearty jests. The sale finished at one thirty whereupon Ruddy declared he needed a drink. After being fully introduced to Ruddy, Walter suggested that they should take Alex on for as many hours as he wanted. Ruddy agreed and told Walter to go through the formalities with Rusty, his secretary and general dog’s body. Alex got a fair wage with bonuses if the Auction House did well. Walter assured him that he would get a regular uplift. That afternoon they spent moving the chairs, cleaning the floor and rearranging the unsold items either for the next sale in two days’ time or disposal. Rusty collated a new catalogue from unsold items, ones in the ‘in’ store and any that would be brought in for sale, usually by house clearance businesses or from repossession outfits.

Alex enjoyed the job. It wasn’t demanding and he met a lot of people which he enjoyed. Walter or Wal for short was always complaining about the amount of unsold items accumulating for disposal. The company supposedly collecting these items were irregular and not very competent.

“Hey Wal, why don’t we just hire a van and do it ourselves? This pile up of stuff is just making our job impossible,” asked Alex.

“Yeah, but you need a licence, a certificate, to get into the recycling plant and we haven’t got one,” answered Wal looking forlornly at Alex.

“Then who has this certificate?”

“The Company who usually do the work, they have ours,” said Wal.

“OK, what if we hire a van, load up and go and get the certificate and dump as much of this stuff as we can. We can’t do our job if we don’t do something.”

“OK, I’ll ask Rusty. She knows about these things,” said Wal wandering off to the office. He came back looking delighted for once. “She said we should do it and she’s ordered a van for us. It will be here in half an hour. I asked her to get the licence so she phoned the company and they’ll have it for us but they said they want it back!”

“What for? It’s ours isn’t it, and we’ve paid for it,” retorted Alex.

“Yeah and I bet they use it for other jobs too. We should keep it!”

The van came, they loaded it up to the gunnels and Wal handed the keys to Alex who took them calmly and got into the driving seat. He gave Wal his mobile to hold with the satnav directions to the office. Alex picked up the Licence with lots of huffing and puffing from the manager saying it was like gold dust. The Council Special Reclamation Depot was not far. They drove to the gatehouse, presented their Licence and were directed to the foremen.

“Hi, we are new here. What do we do?” asked Alex. “We are from the Auction House.”

“No probs. The half good stuff, dump over there, electrical stuff there, metals there and wooden stuff there. Sofa’s, upholstered stuff over to Jerry in the corner and he’ll tell you. It’s all marked up,” so he left them to it. They did a second run that cleared more than half of the ‘out’ warehouse. Feeling very pleased with themselves they drove back and found the rental guy waiting for the return of the van. They took the certificate to Rusty who told them that she had been in touch with Ruddy and they had this job for life. She had cancelled the contract since the company were so unreliable. Alex was relieved that he had managed to drive the van without the problems he had expected. Wal didn’t know his history. That week they got a bonus in their pay packet for using their initiative.

“Tell me Wal, much of the stuff we dumped was still quite serviceable. Surely some Charity could make use of it?” asked Alex.

“That’s always been my thought but I had nought to do with the disposal. What should we do?”

“I’ll ask around and sort something out,” answered Alex. Future loads were driven to a Charity for The Poor where they took out all the serviceable goods and dumped their old stuff in the van for disposal.

At the end of each day, Alex went home and called on Daisy and her husband Ralf who needed washing down to make him more comfortable and to avoid bed sores. Alex was accomplished at that work having practised at the hospital and Daisy was a former nurse. Between them they spread a plastic sheet over the carpet, sat Ralf on a chair and sponged him down and dried him thoroughly, even using a hair drier on his delicate bits to make him comfortable. Daisy was very grateful because she couldn’t do all the lifting on her own. She insisted that Alex stayed for dinner and he spent some quality time chatting to her husband. These daily visits set an idea in his head which he was going to investigate further.

Chapter 4

Wandering along the aisles of a local DIY store, checking off a long list he was accosted by a huge man with a strong foreign accent. “Hello, I’m Ronan, I’m a builder, do general work, plumbing, electrics, joinery anything with building or renovation. Finished a big job last week. Need more work.”

“That’s a coincidence,” replied Alex looking the man up and down. “I’m in the process of costing a renovation project for my landlady, installing an en suite bathroom and small kitchenette in a downstairs room.”

“I can do all that for you,” said the man. “I can also get trade discount. I have a van so can deliver all supplies, no problem. I need to see your project. We can go now,”

“I may be wasting your time. My landlady and husband are elderly and need support. I haven’t even told them about this idea. Secondly, they may not have the cash. They own the property but are equity rich and cash poor. Do you understand?”

“Oh yes, I have much experience of that type of poverty, here and home in Romania. Let me see and I will give you my best opinion. I come here to find work. I can give you references. I do good work.”

“OK, be it on your head,” replied Alex. “Let’s go.”

Having viewed the room and what the job entailed, Ronan and Alex went up to his room to discuss the various possibilities.

“The price between two and three thousand they say is too much for them. It would drain all of their savings,” said Alex despondently. “I suppose I could pay for it. I shall have to think about it.”

“Yes, very difficult decision for these people,” answered Ronan then continued. “Few months ago, I came across another couple in same boat. That’s how you say it? Yes and I suggested I buy the house and they could live rent free. I would make it into four flats and rent out. I couldn’t get a mortgage.”

“Well, that’s a good idea Ronan. I have enough money for a deposit and extra for renovation,” exclaimed Alex getting quite animated with the idea.

“You need planning permission to convert house to HMO, house of multiple occupancy,” remarked Ronan. We could convert the single room for them and wait for the permission to come through.”

“Good, we are getting somewhere. I’ll consult Alfie upstairs; he works in the housing department and could possibly help with drawing up the plans. Let’s go downstairs and propose this to them before we get carried away.”

Two months later the renovation on Daisy’s room was complete, funded by Alex. They were totally delighted with it especially the huge television, hung on the wall, that Alex retrieved from the ‘out’ warehouse. The purchase and mortgage application were going at a pace and the Council approved the planning applications with some minor changes. Alfie from upstairs was of great help expertly guiding Alex through the application procedure. Ronnie, upstairs, quickly drew up the outline plans required on a CADCAM programme of his.

In the meantime, Ron and Boris, an electrician friend of Ronan’s, had ensconced themselves comfortably in the attics and continued preparatory work awaiting the final agreements. Daisy and David were so pleased with their studio accommodation that they told Alex they didn’t need the front room, their lounge, and he could convert that into one for himself. They didn’t use that room facing the road because the hooligans from the Council Estate often would throw bricks through windows and they were frightened of getting hurt. Alfie and Ronnie liked the new plans and were prepared to pay the extra to stay in a more comfortable and modernised studio apartment.

Daisy was proud of her new comfortable and convenient accommodation and invited friends around to view. She no longer had to climb the stairs to the bathroom or wander off to the communal kitchen to make tea and cook meals. She had everything she needed in her room. Dave could be wheeled into the shower and washed down and she had dispensed with the commode and was now much happier caring for her husband who was glued to the marvels of a huge TV screen on the wall operated from his bed or chair. Many of her friends enquired if Alex would give them a quote on converting their downstairs rooms.

Alex continued working at the Auction House but on reduced hours. He still drove the van to the Recycling Centre but now would call at Walter’s house and disposed of a load of small items which Shirley, Walter’s wife, would advertise and sell to locals, especially the TVs. Alex got commission. The other benefit was that all the rubble from the renovation could be bagged and dumped at the yard at no cost.

On the same basis as Daisy’s, Alex managed to purchase two more properties on Wade Street with three more couples hesitating. Alex was a well-known friendly figure on the Street. He would stop and chat and inevitably he would be asked to do some minor repair, mainly replace their front window glass with toughened material to ward against the hooligans.

By now his work team had grown to five self-employed workmen who lived or more appropriately camped on site. He paid the skilled men two hundred pounds a day and the general labourers slightly less. Any English worker was advised to contribute to the National Insurance to ensure their future State Benefits. By now he was engrossed fully with administering his complicated affairs. Much of this was done at night since he didn’t require much sleep.

There was a disastrous situation developing at the Auction House on a sales day. Ruddy had been involved in an accident on the way into work and the other auctioneer was on annual leave. Alex was volunteered to run the auction and did particularly well. With his amazing memory he knew the names of all the regular customers and referred to them by name as the bidding progressed. This was not only novel but he could cajole and egg his customers on in the bidding. He also started the Dutch system of bidding on small, usually hard to sell items by starting at ten pounds and working down until someone bid and the bidding stopped. He managed to sell many trinkets that would have ended up in the ‘out’ warehouse. He instantly got the job as Ruddy’s replacement or stand in plus a rise in his wage.

A huge variety of goods were brought into the Auction House for sale. A range of framed paintings came in one day and as Alex was labelling them up for the catalogue, he spotted one that caught his fancy. It was of a Georgian street in London by Jadwiga Komorowska. He put it aside and later consulted Ruddy who told him to take it as unsold. Something about the painting seemed familiar but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Another significant occurrence was when he spotted a Turner and suggested that Ruddy have it investigated. The report came that it was in fact painted in a likeness of Turner by Ray Alexander who was studying Turner’s technique and painted many copies and likenesses. It turned out that it was worth a few thousand rather than the few bob at the auction. From this Alex was now nicknamed ‘Turner’ which stuck.

He even decided to change his Scottish name of Alistair McSwall to Alex Turner by deed poll. He answered to both Alex and Turner but the latter was growing in supremacy when people heard about his skill in spotting a valuable painting.

Chapter 5

Alex’s builders were having a slack week so he decided that they should do a bonding session. He had noted on Google that an equestrian centre in Oxfordshire was offering an introductory riding lesson at a knock down price. With his photographic memory he recalled the number and phoned them up, booking a lesson for that afternoon. He gathered his troops together.

“OK guys we are off to the country together to do some hunting and shooting so tidy yourselves up, we are going horse riding. Anybody done that before?” asked Alex.

“Silly question Alex, most of these guys are from Eastern Europe so are probably more comfortable on a horse than behind a wheel,” said Ron as the others laughed and agreed. “Yes, we would love that, wouldn’t we?” They all nodded their heads in agreement.

“OK we’ll pile into Ron’s van and go. There will be a buffet lunch and an hour’s riding in the Oxfordshire countryside,” announced Alex as they all got busy changing out of their work clothes into something more presentable, T’s, jeans and trainers. With a dozen cans of beer and good spirit they set off with Alex guiding Ron with Satnav on his phone.

They arrived at the rather posh equestrian centre and were met by a young Asian lady in full riding gear.

“Hello, good to meet you on this fine day. My name is Tamila and I’ve been assigned to look after you today. I’ll take you to lunch and I shall tell you what you shall be doing today. There is a wide range of food on the buffet that I’m sure will be to your liking. No alcoholic drinks I’m afraid until after your riding. Follow me,” said Tamila and escorted them to a huge dome shaped pavilion and to the restaurant area. “Now take a tray and take what you want. Please don’t overload. You can come back for more. We are sitting at that round table reserved for us. I have already eaten but I shall join you when you are all settled. That’s it, don’t be shy,” she encouraged them as they viewed the vast array of dishes with interest. They were amazed to find many East European dishes which they pointed out to Alex with great glee.

“Now who has ridden before,” asked Tamila as they sat around the table eating their lunch with many appreciative nods.

“I think they are all experienced apart from me,” answered Alex.

“Great, makes my job easier. We will get you mounts then take you out into the training paddock and see what level you are. There are lots of trails around here if you are experienced enough. I’ll go and make some adjustments to the types of horses you’ll get since you have ridden before.”

After a hearty lunch they were escorted to the kit room where they could try boots and helmets to suit; then onto the stables where a string of saddled horses were held by some stable boys. Horses were assigned and the guys mounted expertly whilst Alex was helped up and stirrups adjusted for him. The others adjusted their own

Tamila arrived on a huge piebald stallion and led them slowly into the adjoining paddock followed by the stable boys. In the paddock Alex urged his horse into the middle, halted it, made it reverse six steps, six steps sideway to the right, forward six steps followed by six steps to the left to complete the square. The lads cheered and clapped.

“Hey, you told me you couldn’t ride Alex,” shouted Tamila, riding up to him and shaking his hand in admiration.

“I didn’t know I could it must be instinct; I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s ride on,” answered Alex rather sheepishly but grinning at his newfound expertise.

“OK you all seem to ride so I’ll get the stable boy Harold to lead the way on our red course which will lead to our gallop then we’ll finish with a canter back to the stables, OK? Right lead on Harold,” commanded Tamila and off they rode with Alex at the tail with Tamila alongside riding comfortably. “Wow, that was a very accomplished display back there. Is there something you are keeping from me Alex?”

“I’m sorry, but I was in a coma for a year after an accident and I have total amnesia. I can’t remember anything of my former life. I had to learn how to talk, read and walk even. I’ve caught up with most things via YouTube and Google. I suffer from insomnia so I have almost twenty four hours to catch up on life. I found I could drive recently and an instinctive love for property development. I have yet to discovery other attributes I have.”

“Well, that’s a story and a half. You will have to tell me more. I’m just going to instruct Harold to take the silver route and get a move on. You are all better than I expected,” said Tamila as she sped up to the front.

They spent over an hour on the trail finishing with a gallop and a canter back to the stables. Everyone was elated, even Harold who said that most of his trips were a plod. They ended up at the in-house pub for a drink where Tamila handed out cards so that they could book again.

“Alex,” said Tamila as she guided him out of earshot. “I’m going back to London for a few days after this. Can I give you a lift? I am intrigued by your background and that bit of unexpected dressage just blew us away. Please say ‘Yes’ I could do with some company on the journey.”

Tamila drove most of the way and Alex took over within the M25 ring. They chatted all the way and Alex told her of his background as he knew it and his current activities. She begged him for a job in his organisation to carry out all of his administrative duties stating that she was experienced doing similar duties at her father’s substantial millinery business in Leicester. They arrived and Alex showed her around his current renovation and then took her to show her his studio apartment.

“If you want you could take over this place. I’ll offer it to you at a hefty discount. It’s ‘all found’ includes heating, water, WiFi, and even the Council Tax,” stated Alex looking at Tamila for an answer.

“I’d love to but where will you go?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll doss down with the lads until a studio is complete. I need the revenue stream. Now I want to introduce you to some neighbours who will help you settle in. Can you put on your scarf, the hijab?”

“Why’s that? I hardly ever wear it,” asked Tamila looking surprised.

“Well Daisy and David are elderly, very traditional, even bigoted and are very suspicious of foreigners. I know, I know, you told me you were born here but I want to gradually break down their feeling to the Asians so they will accept them more readily. You will have to help frequently with the care of David who is wheelchair bound.”

“Will that be one of my duties?”

“Daisy needs daily assistance in showering David and I usually help and since I won’t be here I would like you to take over,” answered Alex tersely.

“I will gladly do it. Come and introduce me.” They went down to meet Daisy and David. They were at first suspicious but after tea and cake Alex was pleased that they were chatting and laughing merrily. He also introduced her to Ronnie and Alfie and then they went back to his studio to sort out the details of her work.

“Alex I can start next week if you like. This job you are offering me is no-brainer with a salary I couldn’t get in London. I work freelance at the stables so I only need to give them a week’s notice. I’m a City girl by heart.  Now can I stay here with you tonight?” asked Tamila coyly.

“Sure, there’s a bed here and I don’t use it. I sleep in the chair.”

“No silly, I want you in bed with me and have sex. You haven’t forgotten about that have you?”

“Well to be honest I haven’t given it much thought. No, I haven’t experienced sex in my new life. It will be a totally virgin experience!”

Next morning Tamila woke up alone in bed, looked up and saw Alex in his chair with his tablet.

“Hey! Who said you could leave my bed,” uttered Tamila jokingly. “Well for a so-called virgin your inner basic instincts were in full flow last night. Come and join me and introduce me to the third or will it the fourth lesson in love making!”

They had breakfast in a cafe on the High Street and Tamila drove off to meet her friend and promised to be back on Sunday night with her suitcases. Alex waved her off and went to see progress on a renovation and to arrange his accommodation for next week. The rest of the day he spent at the auction house sorting and cataloguing sales items and loading the hire van with disposals. Ruddy finding that the ‘out’ warehouse was relatively empty was now accepting in more goods. Alex persuaded him to arrange a long-term hire so that they could load the disposals directly onto the van. This allowed Alex to do more weekly trips and to get rid of more rubble and waste from his renovation sites.

Chapter 5

Once a month or so, Alex had an appointment with his Psychotherapist, Andrea Thompson at her personal clinic. He had been farmed out by the NHS in their out-sourcing scheme to a private practitioner. Andrea was a good-looking brunette of medium height, in her mid-thirties and very attractive. She ran her own clinic with five specialists plus assistants. Alex was assigned to Andrea. This was their second meeting. In the first one they had discussed Alex’s short history so that she could investigate his background further and try and trigger his former memories.

“Do sit down here Alex,” Andrea prompted directing him to easy chairs around a low coffee table. She sat opposite. “You don’t mind me calling you Alex, do you?  I was a bit formal at our first meeting. I have been investigating Alistair’s background to see if you have any of his tendencies. Please update me on any things you may have noticed that probably emanate from your past life Alex.”

“I told you about my driving instinct and now I drive around London with no fear. I also seem very good with people, sizing them up, influencing them, getting them to do things the way I want them. For instance, I took over the Auctioneer’s job and did as well as the permanent one.”

“That could be from your salesman background,” stated Andrea. “What about football, have you played yet?”

“I was invited to play five aside by my workmen. It was in a gym and normal rules didn’t apply. I was OK and understood the basic tactics. They were playing in a local league and sorry to say I wasn’t invited to play again.”

“OK, don’t let that dishearten you,” answered Andrea. “Try and get into a Sunday game in the park. I hear they are always short of players and see how you manage there. Alistair played in a semi-professional league so he must have been quite good.”

“I’ll plan to do that. Now let me tell you something which is quite at odds with Alistair’s background. I took a group of my workmen horse riding in Oxfordshire, a special deal. I and others were surprised I rode so well. I could do dressage, gallop, jump more than competently. I bet that doesn’t appear in my Scottish background?”

“That’s interesting and new. I shall check it out. Do go on,” said Andrea encouragingly.

“I seem to have an aptitude for property renovation. I’m currently on my third house in Wade Street with a few more in the pipeline.”

“Tell me more. I know about your first purchase, so you have progressed?”

“Daisy spread the word that I’m to be trusted and since there are a lot of pensioners living on the street, I have been approached by many. I visited them all with Daisy to back up what I say. Told them of my plan and that they would have to wait until I had accumulated enough cash for the deposit. I also told them that they could live in one of the renovated studios free of charge for rest of their life. They all seem interested and eager to sell to me. One couple even offered to lend me the deposit.”

“Well, you seem to have a good and beneficial plan. Tell me what do these people do with the money you pay them for their house? It must be quite substantial,” asked Andrea.

“Well, I researched all that on the internet and even went to a Financial Advisor at the bank. Basically, I tell them that they will live until they are a hundred and need say twenty thousand a year and that should be in easy to access savings. I suggest Premium Bonds where they may win a million and boring ISA’s. If they have children or grandchildren, they should give them some money now as part of their inheritance and if they have extra either park it in Premium Bonds with their children or finally invest on the stock market in FTSE100 stock.”

“Wow! You shall have to be my financial advisor. Listening to you I feel very confident in accepting your offer to buy my house,” said Andrea quite animated. “Do carry on.”

“The other thing people tell me is I have a strong social conscience. I spend a lot of time talking to the people on the street, helping them with odd maintenance jobs, administration, advice and even the odd bit of shopping. They keep inviting me for meals so that most weeks I don’t even have to cook for myself. I think some of that comes from my hospital experience but I also enjoy it.”

“Well, that’s good and I get the impression that you are basically a very good person. Unfortunately, the old Alistair didn’t have a good character or reputation according to my reports. Well carry on Alex.”

“The young lady who took us riding at the equestrian centre took an interest in me and offered to drive me back home in her car and quizzed me on my background and current occupation. She offered to work for me as an administrator and I accepted.”

“OK, that sounds normal, doesn’t it?” questioned Andrea.

“Well yes but she wanted to stay the night and insisted on sleeping with me. Yes, having sex!”

“Wow! Is this your first encounter of lovemaking?” asked Andrea.

“I told her I was a total virgin on that score but she advised me next morning that I was better at it than a horse rider.”

“Now tell me, did you get any pleasure from the experience?”

“Oh yes, she insisted on the full VAO and I had to pleasure her many times at her insistence so I must have been experienced in my former life.”

“Yes, but did you get any feeling from it. Did you reach a climax?”

“I did a few times but not as many as Tamila. She had me stop for a while then repeat.”

“Well, that’s a turn up for the books!” exclaimed Andrea. “It’s even got me excited. You must have been quite a romantic in your past life. Now tell me do you feel anything for this Tamila?”

“Well, I like her and find her attractive but I don’t think I would initiate this again. I think my feelings for her are what you might call platonic,” answered Alex. “By the way, since we last met I have changed my name to Alex Turner by deed poll.”

“I’ll record that. Why Turner?”

“I found a valuable painting at the Auction House in the style of Turner and people started calling me Turner. I liked it better than MacSwall.”

“Right Alex, we’ve come up to the end of our allocated hour so we have to stop. I have another client after you. Can you manage an appointment at say four? Being my last we can carry on beyond.”

“Fine, but can I ask you, who is paying for all this?” asked Alex. “A private clinic doesn’t come cheap!”

“No, it doesn’t but the NHS is short of such skill and they have to farm it out. See you in a month’s time. I’ll text you a reminder. Bye, you know your way out. I need to do some admin.”

Chapter 6

Alfie found Alex having lunch with Rosie and Arnold in their dining room, with their best china and silver cutlery which had been recently polished to an inch of its life. “I’m glad that I’ve caught you. My manager Elena wants to see you urgently. I don’t know what for but I think you had some dealings with her before,” stated Alfie. “Oh, dear I must apologise, I came in without even saying hello!”

“Don’t worry Alfie, I’m sure Rosie will forgive you. I’ll give Elena a call once I’ve finished this delicious meal and fixed Rosie’s hoover.”

“Thanks Alex, must dash, had a job finding you and you had your phone off,” said Alfie breathlessly and with a nod to them all departed swiftly.

“OK Elena, what is so urgent that you sent poor Alfie to search me out?” asked Alex with a puzzled look.

“You had your phone switched off and didn’t respond to my messages.”

“I was having lunch with some nice neighbours and it’s polite to switch the darn things off. OK, tell me what is so urgent?”

“You have very nicely converted three properties on Wade Street to HMO’s and have plans for two more in the pipeline, I’ve checked,” stated Elena, a bright Welsh lady who had provided Alex with a number of social tenants from her voluminous housing list.

“Yes, and I will be presenting a few more applications next month.”

“That’s the point and the Planning Department might just turn them down since there seems too many on Wade Street,” answered Elena “So we need to change their minds. Yes, I know it solves my problem and increases revenue for the Council with taxes but they are a very conservative bunch in that department so we must sweeten them for you and my purpose.”

“And how do you propose that Elena?” asked Alex.

“You know that the Council own a row of six properties on your street and they are in a much dilapidated condition. Some want to renovate them some to just dispose of them and add to funds that the Council is in desperate need,” answered Elena, twiddling her pencil nervously.

“If they sell then you will add more folk to you growing housing list,”

“In a nutshell. If you could see your way to buying the properties and promising to convert them into the smart HMO’s that you own, I think that we could turn the Planning Department and they would look kindly at your future applications. They are in a cleft stick,” stated Elena.

“Where would I get the finance and where are you going to house all your waifs and strays. I also need some seed moneys for the building materials. You are setting me a big problem!” said Alex.

“You could do a deal by only paying stage payments over say ten years by which time you would have rents rolling in. The Banks would lend you on the assurance of the Council.”

“It would be better if I paid the deposit to one Department and another separate Department lent me the monies needed for the renovation and to buy up more properties to house your displacements,” answered Alex. “It’s not such a novel idea. Big Companies do that to finance big projects.”

“So you would do it?” asked Elena showing much excitement. “There is a meeting scheduled in an hour’s time to discuss this particular topic. Listen I will get the Chairman, Roy Stirling, to come and we will draw up a proposal that would be acceptable.”

Roy joined them and thrashed out a plan whereby Alex would be fully funded if he bought this row and other properties to develop them to his high standard and that fifty per cent would be available to the social sector tenants. The meeting was delayed by twenty minutes as summaries were printed off and presentations by all three agreed. After a heated meeting the proposal was accepted by a narrow margin dependant on the planning application. Elena was delighted, giving Alex a hug and kiss on the cheek. Alex was less thrilled by the prospects of taking on a larger workforce and financing this huge project.

Ron, Alex plus Gerald, a Council Building Surveyor visited all the houses to get an idea of the state of the buildings. They were in a sorry state by total lack of maintenance, to such an extent that Gerald stated that in his opinion it would be more economical to demolish the whole row and start again. This gave Ron an idea and he suggested that the basic structure was sound but by stripping out the interior they could rebuild the roofs, floors, take out chimney breasts and achieve more space into the bargain. He would ponder over the issue and draw up an outline plan for consideration. They went to a local pub for a good lunch where Gerald offered his services where needed.

After lunch Alex went to his old flat to see Tamila. “Hi Tamila, how are you getting on?”

“Good to see you Alex I’m cooking up a curry for tonight. Will you come and join me and promise to stay overnight. Good, then let me tell you the changes I’ve made since I last saw you,” said Tamila dressed in tight faded blue jeans with the regulation tears and white T. “I’ve been to the bank and signed up all the workers with an account, addressed here. Just 36G, H, J, K L etc. So they have a home address and their weekly wages can now be paid direct to their account. They have a Debit and Credit card so that they can withdraw cash and use their card to send money back home. I negotiated a preferential rate for sending money back home, cheaper than Union Credit.”

“You’ve been busy. Have the men accepted this change?” asked Alex.

“A bit of persuasion on my and Ron’s part. I got Ronnie upstairs to computerise all the accounts for me so each week I give Ron a printout of all the workers and he just updates their hours. I’ve also done a tax fiddle to suit me. I’ve knocked the cost of the flat off my salary to reduce my tax and your taxable revenues. I’ve given Ron a float of five hundred pounds and demand receipts. Every building purchase is now done by a purchase order and recorded so we control all income and outgoings accurately and have a daily update on our current cash flow,” said Tamila waiting for a response.

“OK by me Tamila,” answered Alex. “There should be a substantial cheque being paid in from the Council for the purchase of six of their HMO’s on Wade Street. Can you also progress the purchases of the other three properties on the Street. Some of these displaced people can immediately move into our completed ones. Ensure that the elderly are on the ground floor. I presume that it will be a temporary move although they do seem to like living in the same house together,” stated Alex as Tamila jotted down a reminder in her book and her tablet.

“I presume you want these to be acquired ASAP?”

“Yep, that’s the idea. We need to complete the renovations to provide housing for the displaced and add to the revenue stream,” said Alex and added, “I’ve told Ron to quadruple the work force. I want to purchase some properties on Woodford Crescent. I want you to come with me tomorrow for support.”

“Sure, will be delighted. Do you want me to make the appointments?”

“I’ve done that but we’ll talk more about it over dinner,” said Alex as Tamila’s eyes lit up. “I need to go up and see Ronnie. Please give Ron a bell and tell him to join us.” With a wave Alex departed and clumped upstairs.

“Hi Ronnie, how are you? I’m expecting Ron to come up to talk about the plans for the row of six houses we are going to convert.”

“I’m good. I’ll set up my PC. I can just multiply the stock plan to six and go from there,” said Ronnie tapping in some commands. The huge monitor showed up a row of six house plans. “Whilst we are waiting I’d like your advice on some investments. I have ten grand sitting doing nothing.”

“Don’t invest in me then. I’m up to my neck in debt,” answered Alex laughing.

“Yes, but the community swear by your advice!”

“Nagh, that’s investment for old age where people plan for care, funeral costs and passing on money to their kids,” answered Alex more seriously. “What have you in mind? The Stock Exchange?”

“Yes, I’ve been reading about these computer guys making money on daily dealings, far more than the paltry bank interest.”

“Yes, but you have to have some skill and knowledge of the markets or you could lose your shirt. I have looked into it but you need time.”

“But there are automated systems that do that for you.”

“I’ll look into it more thoroughly for you. Now here comes Ron, let’s have a look at what we can do with these plans,” answered Alex as Ron came in and immediately raided Ronnie’s fridge for three cans of beer, handing them out as his way of greeting.

“Right Ronnie can you do away with the chimney breasts?” asked Ron pulling up a chair as Alex looked over. “Good now all the stair cases.” A few more clicks and suddenly huge voids appeared on the drawings. “There see how much more space we have made. Yes, yes, you need stairs. Ronnie put back only three and let’s take a look. That’s it now we still have extra space for the flats. Get rid of the front doors and just leave three opposite the stairs. Now that looks better.”

“I get the idea,” exclaimed Ronnie. “I’ll work on that and extend the size of flats as appropriate. Any other ideas Ron?”

“Yes, turn the stairs so that we provide more room for the flats in the existing bathrooms and kitchens at the back. That’s it. Now what do you want us to do with the huge gardens at the back Alex?”

“I want to eventually convert them into garden allotments for the residents unless you have other ideas,” answered Alex as Ronnie tapped away and created twenty gardens with raised beds and a central seating area with a pond and fountain. “Brilliant, this guy is a genius, this will go a long way to help with the application. You can forget the fountain!”

The following morning after a night full of passion Tamila and Alex set off to Woodford Crescent, on the edge of Brixton to see the landlord of a huge dilapidated Victorian house set in large overgrown grounds. The landlord explained that he had tenants in four of the flats but two he had sold on to leaseholders. He was willing to sell on at the attractive price offered but warned them that the roof was in a bad state. Alex asked if that included the land or did the two leaseholders have some ownership? He was told that as far as he could remember they only had use of the extensive gardens and therefore legally they had part ownership. This left a problem for Alex since he planned to develop the whole site. Other properties on the Crescent had already been converted to a guest house, care home and offices. On parting with the landlord, they entered the building and buzzed the flat on the first floor.

“Hi, I’m Alex and this is Tamila. You must be Christobel? I made an appointment to see you. May we come in?” asked Alex.

“Ah yes, we are expecting you. Do come in. Call me Chris and this is my husband Jesus,” said Chris as they all shook hands. “Come in and sit down. What is this all about?” as they sat opposite each other on large ancient sofas.

“Good to meet you Chris and Jesus,” said Alex. “With names like that I presume you are of Spanish origin. We are here with a proposition for you that may be attractive to you. I wish to buy your flat. We are in the process of buying the rest of the property from the landlord to redevelop it.”

“Oh, but we like it here,” answered Jesus, who was of medium height, with brown eyes and a round face with a dark skin colour similar to his wife. “We don’t want to move nor can we afford to.”

“I well understand that,” answered Alex as Chris offered him a glass of Rioja. “I’m sorry, I can’t drink because of my health condition. I’ll have a glass of tap water if I may? I have a few options for you. I can offer you the top price. I can offer you another similar flat in a different building or I can pay for a full renovation of this apartment and you can continue to live here. This is what your neighbours below opted for. Don’t forget your lease states that you have to pay a share of any maintenance that the leaseholder requires and he wants to replace your leaky roof. That’s going to be costly.”

“So you will renovate this flat to our specification and at your cost. You will also mend the roof. What do you get out of this deal?” asked Jesus.

“Well, you will have to forgo any rights to the garden area which will be totally under my control and any external maintenance will be my responsibility. All you have to do is pay for the utilities and taxes,” stated Alex.

“That sounds too good to be true,” replied Jesus. “There must be a catch here.”

“The catch as you call it is that I will have the right to develop and modernise the property to its former glory. Yes, there will be extensions and new build but it will be far more desirable than at the moment. If you go along with this proposal, then you will gain substantially in value when and if you come to sell.”

“Interesting! Do we have to make our mind up today?” asked Jesus.

“Why do we have to delay Jesus,” added Chris as she handed a glass of sparkling water to Alex. “We have always wanted to renovate but couldn’t afford. Yes, Alex we will take your offer, on the condition that you improve our outside environment and fix the leaky roof. Jesus is an architect and I’m an interior designer for Renton Associates so we would like to approve your plans for this site.”

“Looks like we have a deal here! I would love you to have an input on the interior design of all the properties Chris and also on the structural stuff from you Jesus. I am willing to pay for your services.”

“But don’t you have your own people for that?” asked Jesus.

“I usually take them on as needed but I have a couple of big projects that need some expertise. I would love to take on an interior designer full time. With this property development I will need to furnish some fifty or more apartments.”

“Well, I’m bored silly with my job. The Company renovates or develops high end properties and they work to a well-tested formulaic design so there’s little scope for my design skills. What kind of salary would you be offering Alex?” asked Chris as she sipped her wine.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting all this!” exclaimed Alex. “OK, you will be self-employed, on a flexible contract and I will pay you two hundred pounds a day if that’s OK?”

“It’s my turn to say WOW!” exclaimed Chris nearly spilling her wine. “That’s fifty thousand a year. I’ll take it but you need to show me what you do.”

“Tamila here will show you. She’s my administrator but does anything that needs doing,” said Alex to a beaming Chris. “I’ll get Tamila to get the papers to you. Tamila will you phone the landlord here and tell him we will accept his valuation. Well let’s drink to the deal. Cheers! Just a question Chris; I’ve noticed you have a grand piano here and a number of guitars. You must be musical?”

“Well, we play guitars and Chris is a pretty good Flamenco dancer. As to the piano, it was left here by the last owner. It’s more of a large ornament,” replied Jesus as Alex rose, walked to the piano and lifted the lid. He tickled the ivories. “So you play?”

“I don’t know,” answered Alex as he sat down on the stool and spread his hands over the keys. “I’m somewhat attracted to it and I can tell it needs tuning,” he said as he started playing a quiet jazz number. They all got up to crowd the piano as he burst into a louder number. Tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Tamila immediately rose and rushed over to comfort him.

“Don’t worry Chris and Jesus. Alex is fine. He’s just had a special moment,” said Tamila and explained. “Alex has total amnesia from a horrendous accident a few years ago. He was in a coma for over a year and now and then he is getting his former life back. This wonderful incident shows that he could play the piano in his past life. That’s why he is so emotional about it. Let me give you a hug Alex. What wonderful news!”

Chapter 7

Entering Andrea’s Clinic for his monthly appointment Alex was greeted by Andrea in the reception area. “Madeline, Mr. Turner is my last client today so you can leave early. Just bring me a black coffee and a glass of chilled water for Mr. Turner. Go on through to my office and I shall be with you in a mo.” As Alex nodded to Madeline and sat down in a comfortable armchair. Andrea followed holding the drinks. She pushed the door shut with her foot and set the drinks down on the olive wood table.

“Hi Andrea, you are looking good today. Have you lost weight?” remarked Alex as he took a sip of water. “You are not ill are you?”

“I’m glad you noticed,” answered Andrea as she did a twirl for him. “I’m fine, I’ve just been slimming. I lead a sedentary life and I needed to get into shape, get rid of any Michelino,” she said patting her tummy. “I’ve started swimming daily before work.”

“Funny you should say that. The lads took me to the gym. They told me I needed building up and afterwards they forced me into the pool,” said Alex rather animated. “In fact, they threw their boss into the deep end and I discovered that I could swim and swim very well. I did twenty lengths leaving them all behind. I was knackered after that and stopped. That was an unexpected turn up for the books!”

“Great news Alex. I don’t remember seeing swimming as a hobby in Alistair’s file but these days all kids learn to swim at school,” said Andrea, making a note in her file. “You will have to come and swim at my gym. I can take a guest free and since the fees are so high you are most welcome. Now anything else happened last month of significance?”

“Oh yes! I’m dying to tell,” said Alex with animation on his face as Andrea sipped her coffee and encouraged him to go on with a wave. “I find I can play the piano, guitar and sing quite well.”

“How did you discover that you were so accomplished? There’s no note of that in Alistair’s file, other that he had a large collection of vinyl and CD’s. Tell me how this happened. I didn’t know you had a piano?”

“I haven’t, at least not then. I went to see a large property with the hope of buying it for renovation. A delightful Spanish couple owned one of the apartments and I was offering them a good deal. I noticed a grand piano which they said was just an ornament, a piece of attractive furniture. I was attracted to it, strolled over and tinkled the keys. Immediately I realised it needed tuning which was strange,” said Alex as he paused and sipped some water.

“Go on Alex this sounds promising.”

“Well, they encouraged me to sit and play something. I sat, pondered for a long while then by instinct I played a Scott Joplin boogie-woogie then a classical piece by Schubert. I was amazed and burst into tears with emotion. Tamila who was accompanying me had to console me.”

“Oh, poor you. That’s amazing news. Did you know the name of the pianist by instinct there and then?”

“Yes, I did and I played some more numbers and my audience was impressed. Tamila explained my problem and they were very accommodating.”

“What about the guitar?”

“Well Christobel and Jesus, good Spanish names said they played at gigs for Spanish ex pats every month. They asked if I played the guitar. They handed me one and I could play jazz and blues. Jesus and Chris started playing Spanish style and I took up the rhythm and played Spanish style with them. I was amazed and so were they. They invited me to their gig which they organise. Hire a hall for say five hundred, sell tickets and the venue provides the bar and security.”

“Sounds interesting, did you go?” asked Andrea, sitting forward with interest.

“Yeah, I took Tamila and the two gays that I told you about. The place was packed, full of Spanish and a number of groups were listed to play including Chris, Jesus on guitars and someone on the box drum. Chris did some flamenco dancing and Jesus sang if you call it that. It went down well. Jesus then announced to the audience that he needed another guitar player whilst Christobel danced so he drags me on stage, hands me a guitar and I accompany him as best as I could. I got plenty of applause.”

“He then tells the audience that his guest is even better on the piano and drags me to an electronic instrument. Fortunately, I had previously bought one at the auction for myself, so could quickly set up the backing there,” stated Alex in a rush. “Now listen to this, I instinctively introduced myself and said that I would impersonate some well-known singers and musicians, in perfect, according to Chris, Spanish would you believe it? I played and sang a Frank Sinatra jazzy number, one by Elton John and then BB King. I was applauded and asked for more. I was too emotional and declined. Ronnie and Alfie had to help off the stage.”

“Wow! What a tale. Did you expect to go on the stage? Was this pre-planned,” asked Andrea looking on in disbelief. “Did you learn the Spanish phrases?”

“No honestly it wasn’t staged. Some of the audience started chatting to me and I could hold an acceptable conversation with them. They bought loads of drinks, fortunately my two friends are heavy drinkers. I just kept a pint in hand to ward off further offers.”

“I know that Alistair and friends went off to Ibiza for a fortnights’ holiday each year but there’s no note of his language skills,” remarked Andrea. “I presume you have been invited again?” as Alex nodded. “You will have to invite me to go and watch this spectacle.”

“Sure, I’ll get you tickets and you can join and meet my workmates. I have been working on some numbers and Ronnie, my IT guru, has come up with some drop down strip screens that feature the singer I’m impersonating who then fades into a picture of me standing and singing, even though I’m sitting at the piano. He can sync my voice to the image. Amazing!”

“I’m looking forward to it. What else have you been up to?”

“Busy, busy, I’ve taken on two major projects, no three including a social project at the local school nearby in that awful estate I’ve told you about. My lads have had it all re-fenced. The local vandals used to break in break windows and regularly do a lot of damage. The Headmistress hearing of my good works in the locality asked if I could help. My guys built a two-metre steel fence around the perimeter and dug a moat so that the buggers couldn’t break through with a vehicle. We sacked the current janitor and I put one of my men in there during the day and a security guard with guard dog during the nights.”

“Didn’t that cost you?”

“It did but I put a bill to the Council, haven’t heard from them yet. My guys also repaired what needed repairing and commissioned two half-finished class rooms, again sent in a hefty bill. The teachers are good there since it’s in a deprived area but they were against it all the time. Now they have very safe working conditions and can actually do their job.”

“That’s very impressive Alex. You are a good person. I get the impression that Alistair was bit of a rogue. Can I donate some money to this school?”

“That would be great. They need lots of basic equipment. The teachers had to take cases of stuff home each night to stop it all being pinched,” said Alex. “Send it to Wade Primary direct. Now I have a proposal for you that you might be interested in.”

“OK, what is it?” asked Andrea with a curious expression on her face.

“A bunch of us are going to Budapest next weekend for four days. We have hired a villa, all serviced, and would you like to come?”

“Tell me more?”

“Well Tamila, Chris and you will have a bedroom each plus the two gay neighbours.”

“And where will you be sleeping?”

“I shall be servicing the girls each night! No that’s a joke. Sorry Andrea,” said Alex colouring up a little.

“Sounds more interesting every moment; I shan’t miss it for the world. Send me the itinerary.”

“I shall and it’s all paid for. Tamila is chief organiser. We will have drivers and cars to ferry us about. It will be fun.”

Chapter 8

The residents of Wade Street were getting fed up with the hooligans from the estate cycling down the street, yelling abuse and hurling bricks through their windows. Alex decided that he would do something about it. He got Ron to round up as many of his mates as possible and they would ambush these lads and scare them off for good.

Saturday lunch time was the time the kids would usually cause the trouble and on key, a bunch of a dozen or more were seen congregating in the park, picking up bricks and bottles, ready to swoop. Ron’s team were waiting for them. They had a couple of ropes ready to stretch across the road and each was armed with a solid stave of wood to jam in the spokes and bring the hooligans down. They let them ride half way when Ron’s team pounced. They strung up the ropes to cut off any escape and then knocked the lads off their bikes and hustled them to the ground.

Each lad was questioned, searched for knives and mobile phones. If they objected and uttered abuse they got a bloody nose and a black eye for good measure. They were photographed and asked for their name and address’s and if they didn’t then they were told they wouldn’t get their phones back. The men made sure that the bikes were unserviceable and with plastic ties affixed to their wrists and bikes so that they had to carry them off with them. The sullen mob departed to jeers from the residents.

A video of the event plus photos, names and addresses were given to the local Community Police Officer who had witnessed the scene from afar. He had reported it to his Superior and told him to send only one car to cruise the streets since the hooligans had been seen off with their tails between their legs. He also reported that the kids had been relieved of their knives and mobile phones. He also warned Alex and Ron that there could be repercussions, revenge attacks by older boys.

Next weekend lookouts were posted and sure enough a large group of older lads and girls were milling around the park on their motor scooters planning an attack. A lot of younger kids, the hangers on, were also amassing. Ron rounded up his team and set a plan. He reckoned that with scooters the lads would be able to escape easily along the pavements between the parked cars so they blocked them off with wheelie bins.  This time Alex warned the police and they were ready to arrive within minutes when needed.

A couple of dozen scooters with passengers armed with missiles started driving down Wade Street, revving their engines and shouting abuse. Following them were ten older teenage girls armed with satchels full of missiles marching behind the scooter brigade. Behind were a mass of young kids come to see the circus, many sporting black eyes from a previous sortie.

A quarter of the way down three police cars, with sirens blazing, appeared behind the troop, blocking off any escape. The hangers on decided that this was too serious and scarpered back home. The scooter gang started to speed up followed by the running girls and they were met by a wall of Ron’s men armed with staves ready to knock them down. Confusion reigned and the scooterists decided to turn tail but more men appeared from the side and attacked them, knocking them off their machines, handcuffing them with plastic ties and forcing them to lie, face down, on the road. More police arrived with Black Marias, ready to carry off the miscreants. The teenage girls were treated in the same way.

The Community Policeman ordered that they should be searched thoroughly, weapons and missiles removed before being carted away. Ron lifted a girl to her feet as one of the Police Officers videoed the scene.

“What’s your name and home address?”

“Fuck off!” replied the burly black girl with streaky hair, the colour of the rainbow, and more metal adornment than found at an iron foundry.

“Without names we can’t return your phone and other belongings!”

“Please yerself!” came a gruff reply as Ron dropped the phone into the large evidence bag held out by the police officer. Ron took out a felt tipped pen and wrote a reference number on her forehead and on the evidence bag.

“Just so we can tie you up with the evidence,” stated Ron as he rummaged in her voluminous shoulder bag and took out a plastic squeezy bottle. “Now I wonder what’s in here?” questioned Ron as he proceeded to squeeze some liquid onto the tarmac which started to sizzle. “Now what are you doing with acid my girl?”

“Bugger off, it’s not mine!” shouted the girl.

“I presume this kitchen knife is not yours either,” stated Ron popping it in the evidence bag. “Six half bricks. I’ll tip those in the bag. I wonder what they were for.” Ron then grabbed the girl’s each leg and ripped her trainers off. “I wonder what you have in here,” questioned Ron as he proceeded to tear out the lining and fishing out a wad of money. In the other shoe he pulled out a handful of small plastic bags containing white powder. The money he put in his pocket thanking the girl for her contribution to the local social fund as she stared with hatred at Ron. “Now tell me girl, what are you hiding in your bra? I shall look!” as he pushed up her bra and more money and sachet’s fell to the ground.

“No you can’t you perv!” she shouted and spat at Ron. In the blink of an eye Ron’s palm shot out and smacked the girl’s nose, blood everywhere.

“ Now behave yourself!” said Ron sternly.

“You can’t do that! It’s against the Law!” shouted the girl.

“This is a Citizen’s Arrest so here, I am the Law!” retorted Ron as a couple of policemen dragged her off and threw her in the van.

Similar quick interviews were being carried out along the street finding an array of missiles, plastic bottles of acid, knives even a loaded hand gun. Lots of money, which was contributed to the local social fund and many incriminating sachet’s of drugs. The police were pleased with their haul, especially arresting a whole gang red handed. Since the involvement of Ron’s mates was unofficial and would have been frowned upon, the Chief Inspector decided to make them all Temporary Voluntary Constables in retrospect.

The scooters were loaded up into the back of Ron’s van and taken off to some scrap yard. Needless to say the Street had no more problems apart from an occasional youth cycling furiously down and back, running the gauntlet, as a rite of passage.

Chapter 9

The trip to Budapest was brought about by one of the workers coming to see Alex, with Ron, to make a proposition. Andreas’s uncle ran an aluminium plant just outside Budapest, smelting re-cycled scrap and extruding material used in the making of windows and door frames. This uncle had tooled up to make high quality extrusions for a German window replacement company but the orders had dried up and the uncle was left with a mass of material and debts.

Andreas showed Alex the catalogue from the German Company and had written in the ex factory price and the cost of transport to the UK. Ron confirmed that these products were of a high quality so Alex rang Tamila to check on the quote they had for hundreds of windows for their large project on Wade Street. The prices were comparable but of a much higher quality. Andreas in the meantime rang this Uncle Halasz who remarked that he was desperate for the business and would sell the first fifty windows at cost price and then the rest at the trade prices marked.

The deal was sealed by the Uncle inviting them to see his works and the quality of workmanship. He would put them all up in a villa he owned if they paid for the transport. Alex invited Ron, Ronnie with Alfie, Chris, Andreas, Tamila who would control the purchase and Andrea just to come for a long weekend. Tamila made all the arrangements including two limos and drivers in Budapest.

On Friday noon they all met up at Heathrow Terminal 3 and flew off to Budapest. They were met by two drivers who fortunately spoke English and whisked off to the villa where they were met by Uncle Halasz who had arranged a private evening cruise on the Danube to see the lit up city. It was a marvellous evening with plenty of wine flowing and song. Alex being the only sober one, was persuaded to play the piano and sing for them which truly added to the spirit.

The three ladies having heard of Alex’s joking offer from Andrea decided to test his resolve and invited him to each of their bedrooms that night in order drawn with straws. Alex did the honours to total satisfaction and was asked or ordered to repeat the performance each night they were in Budapest. The last night turned into a memorable orgy in the largest bedrooms.

Uncle Halasz showed them around the smelting foundry and the extrusion mill, he then took them across the road to the factory where the frames were built up and covered in epoxy material in any colour required. They were then shown the vast range of actual samples as in the catalogue. Uncle Halasz assured them that he could make up any size and any shape to their liking. They were impressed and Tamila placed an initial order for a hundred frames for their main project and special sliding sash windows for their current renovations on Wade Street.

Ron, who knew Budapest well, took them on sightseeing tours, the best restaurants and the liveliest clubs where Alex was invited to perform to great aplomb. They arrived back in London weary but elated.

With the help of Jesus’ architectural skills and Ronnie’s IT skills, magnificent plans were drawn up for the renovation and conversion of the row of six Council owned properties. The plans were passed with only minor changes. The Council had loaned Alex a substantial sum to effectively demolish the buildings but in reality, he only planned to rip the guts out of the building and keep the main structure. The back gardens had already been prepared for the main build with the dividing garden walls demolished and the soil bulldozed into a heap for reuse in the allotments. During the demolition of the first property, they discovered extensive damp cellars and Alex insisted on amendments to the plans to include a further six one-bedroom basement flats.

The workmen would live in one property whilst the rest were being gutted. A couple of cranes assisted with the speed of demolition of the interiors. The useable bricks, slates and timber were carefully stored away for future use. The cellars were deepened and damp-proofed then the rebuild would start. For each floor concrete beam would be laid with a concrete block infill and then screeded with concrete. This would provide adequate sound proofing between floors. The roof, of mansard design, was also made of concrete frames and eventually slated in keeping with the rest of the street. Modern steel staircases would be inserted. Because of the mansard roof design there was no need for scaffolding so the work would be planned to move on at a pace. As one property was completed the workmen temporary moved in as demolition and rebuild continued on the others.

The windows from Budapest arrived on time and were stored in a container on site until required. The build went on until a point where the spare workmen could be reassigned to Woodford Crescent where they prepared the plot ready for the main build.

Chapter 10

Pressing the entry key, Alex announced himself and the door buzzed open and he let himself into Andrea’s Clinic for his monthly appointment.

“Good afternoon Alex,” said the receptionist with a bright welcoming voice.

“Oh, you must be new here?” asked Alex. “I was expecting Madeleine.”

“She’s on two weeks leave and I’m the temp,” replied the receptionist, wearing ear-bud phones. “My name is Samantha. I’ll buzz Andrea now. ‘Mr. Alex Turner is here.’”

“Send him through Sam.”

“Please go through Alex. She is expecting you and you must be her favourite because she’s dolled herself up in nice blouse, RaRa skirt and high heels instead of her staid pant suit and flats.”

Alex raised his eyebrows in mock shock and strode into Andrea’s office, closing the door. “Hi, how are you?” asked Alex and held his finger to his lips in a sign of silence and started writing something on her pad.

“Oh, I’m fine Alex, more important how are you. I’ll order a glass of chilled water for you and a black coffee for me,” replied Andrea looking shocked as she reread the note. Then chatted aimlessly for a while when there was knock on the door and Samantha walked in carrying a tray of drinks.

“I didn’t order drinks! You’ve been listening to our conversation Samantha, haven’t you?” said Andrea angrily. “I never order coffee. I always have green tea. This was a test to check if you were eve’s dropping.”

“But I wasn’t. I wouldn’t do such a thing,” retorted Samantha looking worried as Alex retrieved one of her ear-buds.

“I can hear us talking on your bud. You keep the phone on hands free and listen to the private discussions between practitioner and client,” said Alex with anger in his voice.

“No I don’t. I wouldn’t do that! Honest!” pleaded Samantha nearly at crying point.

“You can’t go around with your buds in without knowing! You do it so often, you’ve got used to it,” said Alex gripping Samantha by the arm and escorting her out of the office towards the reception desk. “Now get your coat and leave the building. You are suspended and Andrea will be in touch with your agency. Do you know it’s a serious offence you have committed? Criminal and you could go to prison on severe charges of breaching client confidentiality. You are a stupid girl,” scolded Alex. “Don’t you know that the reception calls are recorded and the CCTV camera up there is recording all that happens in this reception area? Leave your mobile! You’ll get it back when we have checked who you’ve been gossiping to!” stated Alex as Samantha burst into tears, grabbed her coat, bag and rushed out.

“Wow that was a display and a half,” said Andrea in astonishment. “It’s me who should have done that but I’m glad it was you. And where did you get the idea that there was a recording and video?”

“Well maybe you should. All offices have it, purportedly as a training aid but it’s for security. It can be used as evidence to stop them being sued by their employees.”

“Now where in heavens did you learn all that,” asked Andrea as she sat at the reception desk and sent an Email to the Agency to get a replacement and the reasons for the dismissal.

“I used to look after the switchboard at the Paisley Hospital. I knew all the tricks of the trade. I noticed that Samantha had the mute button on, it lights up but there’s no evidence on your set.”

“I was going to ask if this was a blast from the past, the phone thing and the manner in which you straight away handled the issue,” asked Andrea as she ushered Alex back into her office and pointed to an easy chair.

“I don’t know but I was ultra confident about it, as if I’d been in situations like this in my previous life,” said Alex scratching his head. “You should get a security firm in to change your phones and set up CCTV for the outer offices.”

“I will, I will, I promise,” uttered Andrea sitting opposite showing more leg than was healthy. She saw that Alex had noticed and struggled to pull it down a little. “I dressed up for you. I thought we might go for dinner later. After all you gave me such a good time in Budapest.”

“Yes, it was good. Let’s hope we have another opportunity,” answered Alex with a definite leer.”

“Your Tamila and Chris are such lovely people. They both love working for you. You seem to be a very encouraging boss. Is this another blast from the past?” enquired Andrea as her hemline rode higher.

“I don’t know but I let them just get on with it but request both to keep me informed at all times on all developments,” answered Alex thoughtfully.

“Chris was saying that reporting to you regularly was like bragging knowing you would pat her on her head. Your regular approbation sessions are greatly appreciated and a major motivation. Even Don says that when you turn up on site the workers respond in a positive way. Is this from past nature or current nurture? We shall have to pursue that line of investigation.”

“I know I have the ability to size people up very quickly which lets me pick good people.”

“I have witnessed that Alex. This incident today has flustered me a little. I can hardly think straight. Maybe we forgo the session and maybe just chat?” asked Andrea.

“You told me that you were arranging a hen party?” asked Alex as Andrea put away her notebook. “Has that happened yet?”

“Oh yes, two weekends ago!” said Andrea with animation in her voice. “It was brilliant and we all stayed in a youth hostel in Copenhagen, would you believe it!”

“What! Slumming in a Youth Hostel! You must be crazy!”

“Not crazy at all when you understand the background,” replied Andrea. “Let me explain. When I went up to the Sixth Form College, they put us in three tutor classes. The Principal tried an experiment, group of girls, group of boys and mixed, about twenty in each.”

“You obviously elected the boys group!” laughed Alex.

“No silly, I was in the all girls group and we had this mentor, Jeff Adams, a real boring Geography teacher or so we thought.”

“So, you took Geography, and what other subjects?”

“I took the three sciences. Mr. Adams as we called him lectured us in the first tutorial for an hour and warned us that we had to work hard because this was the easiest way in our lifetime to get high qualifications.”

“That sounded a right bore.”

“No it wasn’t. He told us as women we will be treated as second class citizens in jobs, pay grades, promotions and society in general. Only through good qualifications here and at University could we have the chance to break through the glass ceiling. He told us we must work together, help each other and not to form cliques. He expected the swats as he called them to help the weaker girls to come up to scratch.”

“Sounds good advice!” said Alex nodding his head in understanding.

“It was and he made sure we stuck to it. At first, we thought he just wanted us to get better exam result than the other groups for his own kudos but soon realised it was genuine. To end the first lecture, he ordered us to free up our weekend because he wanted to take us on an overnight field trip. He would tell more at our next meeting later in the week.”

“So, what was this all about then, a field trip?” asked Alex with interest.

“Later in the week he told us to wear clothes for a long boring walk in the wet, pack a sack, PJ’s, change of socks and underwear, bottle of water and maybe some snacks. He wouldn’t tell us anymore other than we would meet at five for a short bus ride.”

“So did everyone turn up?”

“Sure, we were all a mixture of excitement and curiosity. After half an hour or so we got off the bus in the middle of the countryside and he gave each of us a copy map of the route he had planned for us. I thought at first he was going to leave us but no he got one of the girls to lead the walk and he would look after the stragglers.”

“Was it a nice walk in the rain?”

“The weather was beautiful and it wasn’t a long walk but more of a stroll. I don’t remember much of the scenery because we were too busy chatting. We eventually straggled into this Youth Hostel and horrors of horrors directed to a huge dormitory where we all would sleep overnight together.”

“What’s wrong with that? I thought you would enjoy being in company, telling ghost stories” stated Alex.

“It’s a teenage girly thing, frightened of communal showers, sharing bathrooms, getting undressed amongst other people but we quickly got over it,” stated Andrea.

“Where did your teacher sleep? Not in the dorm I hope!”

“No, after a meal, washing up, we went back to the dorm and found three cases marked ‘Orienteering Materials.’ Sheila opened one and found twelve bottles of beer and candles, same in the others.”

“So, the Teacher broke all rules and sneaked in booze to under aged and impressionable girls. Sacking offence!” offered Alex.

“Maybe, but it achieved what he wanted, bonding; far more effective when it’s slightly illicit, isn’t it?”

“The sly bugger! Did he sleep in the dorm with you?”

“No silly! I can see how your mind is working. After singing, drinking and playing silly games under candlelight Mr. Adams would keel over and snore. Sometime during the night he would cart himself off to his room.”

“So, you girls did get your clothes off with a teacher in the dorm,”

“In candlelight and by then we were too excited to care! Having played some slightly naughty games,” retorted Andrea. “After breakfast we had to pack, wash up, tidy and mop the dorm and about eleven we again set off walking.”

“So, what happened to the evidence Mr. Watson?”

“You mean the bottles! Mr. Adams told us to take them home otherwise we wouldn’t be allowed back. To carry on, he walked us to a pub for lunch and fed us with more illicit shandy, highly diluted may I add. More bonding measures. A convenient bus took us home.”

“Did you repeat this experience?” asked Alex.

“We insisted that he arranged a similar excursion every month, even during the holidays. We climbed Helvellyn, scrambled up Snowdon and visited every highland park that England and Wales could provide. We soon kitted ourselves out so that we could take anything the weather could throw at us. We learned quickly to take a few cans of beer, torch and our own toilet paper and cut down the inessentials that weighed down our packs.”

“Now where does this lead to Copenhagen and a hen party?”

“I’m coming to that. All of us got outstanding results at the end of the two years and we all went to Universities apart from Sheila, who was the brightest of all of us, had to stay at home to look after her aged and infirm parents. They passed away a few years ago so she was a late starter at Uni. Met up with a PhD student, fell in love and will be getting married shortly.”

“So, about seven years without earnings, how can she afford to get married?”

“That’s always been her problem coming from a poor family. We made provision in our excursions for those who couldn’t afford and coughed up a little extra to fund a number of our girls. Looking back, it was another bonding thing.”

“OK enough schoolgirl history; tell me about the Hen trip!”

“We all did well in our careers, so money was no object. Some of the girls took Sheila out shopping for full wardrobe of clothes for this trip and a few extra, all funded. Friday night spent at Tynley Hall, a posh hotel near Basingstoke where we got truly smashed then early next morning bussed to Blackbushe airport where we had champagne breakfast on a small charted jet. You put us onto that Alex when we pleaded with you to go on another weekend away. You said we’ll hire a jet.”

“Blaming me for the expense now!” retorted Alex.

“Cheaper than BA and far more fun don’t you think? A bus took us around the sights, with lunch at the Tivoli Gardens and onto the dorm at the Youth Hostel to settle in. We sneaked in bottles of cava and wine this time, plus plastic glasses and nibbles.”

“You didn’t eat there did you?”

“No way, we were bussed to a quayside bar serving frozen schnapps and ‘57’ types of pickled herring then onto a fabulous restaurant that could accommodate eighteen ladies. Some couldn’t manage the trip. We had a seven-course tasting menu, where they served tiny portions of delicious tapas, which was good enough for all of us since we had all put on more pounds than we cared for.”

“Wasn’t that all spoiled by the bottles of wine later?”

“Spoil sport! Back at the dorm we had our stash which we consumed illicitly to our delight whilst playing silly adult games. No! I’m not going to be explicit. Let’s say some ladies ended up sharing bunks!”

“I’ll let my imagination run riot!” said Alex with a sly grin. “So, it was quite a reunion then? Are you going to repeat it?”

“I’m sure we will. Now I’ve booked a table at this swish restaurant nearby. We can find a bar on the way. Are you ready?”

“Sure, but fine dining is lost on me. My taste buds are shattered but it’s your call Andrea.”

“I’d like somewhere nice, how about an Italian where we can have a huge T bone steak, Bisteca Florentina, that you will surely enjoy. Since you need feeding up, we’ll order a full kilo steak to share, especially flown from Italy. Come on, my mouth is watering with the thought. Now for pudding you are to stay overnight at my place for a night of passion,” stated Andrea as she grabbed her bag and ushered Alex out of the office.

Chapter 11

“Hi Chris, what brings you here to see me?” asked Alex as he leaped out of his armchair to greet her with three customary kisses Spanish style.

“A number of things. I decided to come and see you rather than discuss these things over the phone.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you Chris. Now what’s high on your mind?”

“You know the new build on Wade Street that got so much acclaim. It’s all over the local press and the specialist Architectural periodicals,” said Chris taking a deep breath. “Well Kurt Rindersson from Renton Associates contacted me with a proposal. I used to work for them and he was the new CEO. They are into high end luxury renovations and development; way above our league.”

“So, what did he propose?”

“Recently they bought a package of development land from the Council which included a derelict block of high-rise flats just on the edge of the local housing estate here. You know it, just beyond the park. He wants to dispose of it because it’s in the wrong location and wrong type for his high-falluting development style. He told me demolition would be expensive and the security costs are crippling.”

“I can’t afford to buy it at this moment Chris,” stated Alex.

“Jesus and I inspected the drab building a few days ago. It was built by the Betonix method of precast concrete panels. The Company is still operating and it’s a sound method with a few modifications required to meet current building regulations.”

“I still can’t afford it!”

“Kurt just wants it off his hands. It’s eating lots of money and he is offering it to you for free to develop into our low-end social apartments.”

“As far as I remember it, it’s a hideous building that will need cladding and full renovation. It’s also not very tall, so not many flats,” stated Alex. “Not interested.”

“Well Jesus and I think you should snap it up before Kurt changes his mind. We got in touch with Concrete Fabrication of Bedfordshire who made the panels and they sent us a copy of all their original plans for the site,” said Chris, getting a file of plans out of her satchel and laying them out on Alex’s table. “The block in question was planned to be four stories higher and next to it was going to be another block twice as big. Look you can see that on the foundation and utilities plan. The foundations are already there and in place. The Council ran out of money and only the said block was completed. The rest was buried and turfed over.”

“Now things are getting more interesting. Does this Kurt know about this?” asked Alex poring over the plans with interest.

“I don’t know but I think he would still object to the location. Jesus thinks he could improve on the original plans and develop the two blocks then sell back them to the Council. I wouldn’t hesitate too long Alex. Give him a call now.”

After a long call with Kurt where all things were thrashed out, Alex became the new owner of a large plot of land with an abandoned tower block plus the substantial security costs associated. Jesus was assigned to draw up the plans for submission for planning permission and Ron was assigned to get his men to fence the perimeter securely and take over the Security manning.

Ron solved the security issue by electing to move all of his workmen into the building and suggested that his men fabricate a six-foot fence made out of scrap metal all around the perimeter rather than wasting money on cheap fencing. Alex wasn’t happy with the ‘scrap metal’ idea until he was shown photographs from Ron’s hometown in Romania where the local authority had done just that. Chris being shown the photo suggested that she could design something like that and project manage the fabrication and erection.

Men scoured the scrap yards and skips of rusty iron work appeared on the site. Foundations for the extensive fence wall were excavated and a low wall was being built re-using the bricks saved from the Wade Street developments. On top of this wall the scrap metal fence would rise in series of interlocking panels. Chris would lay out the interesting pieces of metal, car wheels, cogs, bike frames, pieces of machinery, rods topped off with sharp pointy leaf shapes, onto a panel template and these would all be welded together with strengthening bars added. These panels would be sent off to be sandblasted to clear off the rust and grime, then coated with a slow rusting agent that would eventually form an interesting patina on the surfaces of the metals. As a series of panels were completed they were erected and became an attraction and admired by the locals and artists from afar.

Large gates were erected in the same pattern and rough site roads constructed from crushed bricks and gravel bought from the Council Recycling Plant. Very quickly the site was made secure at the perimeter and the workmen living on site ensured that the building wasn’t vandalised any further.

An interesting development took place later associated with this new site. A French Algerian, illegal, approached Alex and pleaded with him to give him work and provide him with a roof over his head. His English was stilted and difficult to understand but Alex realised he could easily understand the French words Raban uttered. Suddenly by sheer instinct Alex slowly started conversing in French to his own amazement. Raban, a wiry, dark skinned rogue looking man, had fled Marseilles for his safety after an altercation with a gang there. On enquiring what his skills were, he found that Raban was a skilled butcher and ran a restaurant alongside his butchery business. The gang wanted protection money and Raban wasn’t prepared to pay. They had threatened him, so he fled.

Alex decided that his skills would be wasted on the building site so suggested he would provide Raban with accommodation with his men for which he wanted him to work in the local school kitchens. They were always short of staff. A week later, Alex was summoned by the Headmistress to sort out a fracas in the school kitchen between Raban and the chef in charge Sylvia. It appeared that Raban was refusing to cook and serve the meat the Council was providing because he saw it well below standard and shouldn’t be fed to the kids or dogs. Alex placated the two and asked for a solution. Sylvia said her hands were tied, whilst Raban suggested that Alex give him some seed money and he would regularly go to the abattoir and purchase half a beast and butcher it up himself. He told Alex that the carcasses were cheap to buy the cost was in the butchering. He would butcher the meat, sell the high-quality fillet and sirloin to local butchers, the returns would fund the carcass and he would butcher up the meat for the school meals.

Alex funded the seed money and eventually paid Raban a wage. The school children got vastly improved meals. Eventually Raban would buy in all the vegetables from the wholesale market for the school. The Headmistress got the Council to refund half of the measly allocation for school meals to buy the necessary provisions. Even the teachers benefited from good school meals instead of their own bendy sandwiches. Since the subsidy for supplying meals to the elderly and the needy was much greater than the children the Headmistress decided to open the kitchens to twenty or more outsiders. The elderly sat amongst the children who served them and provided amusing conversation and a break from their lonely lives.

Shirley, one of Alex’s tenants, worked as a volunteer in the kitchens of the school. She and a colleague were fed up with their evening work at the brothel where most of their earnings went to the management, made Alex a proposal. She and her friend would cook and feed the huge army of workmen now resident in the derelict block at ten pounds for a three-course meal of broth, meaty main course and pudding which all would be cooked in the school kitchens and transported to the block in the evening. The men would provide the beer and the two girls would provide entertainment in one of the adjoining two-bedroom flats. The lounge would provide porno videos whilst the girls would sell their services to the men in the two suitably decorated bedrooms.

After consultation with Ron and other foremen they decided to give it a trial. The trial lasted for eighteen months that it took to complete the two blocks and all parties were completely satisfied.

The Headmistress approached Alex on one of his regular visits to the school and suggested that he should put himself up as candidate for the local Council. The Labour Party took an instant interest in this well know local personality who was doing good work in the community and would support him with canvassing and publicity. He won the seat with a small margin and sat on many meetings where his voice of sense and reason were heard loud and wide. He was asked to join many committees and selected, housing, planning and education where he had more than a modicum of interest. He held a surgery in a coffee bar on the main street where he listened to a wide range of disgruntled people and guaranteed that their issues would be aired at the appropriate meetings. He was voted Chair of the Housing Committee even though he declared his business interests; the same for the Planning Committee where he would absence himself when his own applications were aired.

Chapter 12

Donni came to him looking despondent and worried. “Mr. Alex we have big problem in Budapest. Halasz he drunk all day! Production no good! No boss!” he said almost bursting into tears. “You need many, many windows but factory almost closed; very bad, very bad.”

“OK, calm down Donni, we will find a solution. Go and bring Don here and Tamila and we will discuss the problem,” said Alex as Donni rushed out.

“Right guys we have a major problem here,” stated Alex as he paced around the room. “It seems that the main problem is with Uncle Halasz who I believe is an alcoholic and is spending the profits on booze. We need these window frames. Now I want you Don with Donni to get the first flight to Budapest to check out the state of affairs there in the foundry and factory. I suspect the fabrication site is running OK and managed by Marravi who seemed a good guy to me.”

“Yeah, he is good man,” agreed Ron with Donni nodding his head.

“We get Marravi to take over the foundry and extrusion process and send this Halasz to a health farm. Is there anybody to replace Marravi?”

“Donni used to work there Alex,” said Ron looking at Donni.

“Yes, I worked there long time,” answered Donni. “But I have a family in Romania and need to send money. I earn lot here more than Marravi there.”

“OK since most of the production is for me then I suggest that we move the fabrication plant over here and Donni can run it,” stated Alex. The trucking costs would be halved by shipping strips of extrusions rather than bulky finished frames. Any problems?”

“What do you mean to purchase the whole outfit?” asked Tamila.

“Not exactly but if we don’t do anything drastic then the whole business will go to the wall. Tamila, I want you to go over too and sort out the details and transport. At this instance it will just be a relocation of production. That way we can control it.”

“OK that sounds sensible,” said Tamila. “I’ll get Chris to find a suitable factory here. She has seen the place so has some idea of size. I’ll organise all the fabrication machinery to be shipped over and I’ll try and entice the key workers to come over and work for us here. Money and free accommodation should be sufficient.”

“Good thinking Tamila and ship over all the stock of finished frames, part finished and all the extrusions available. I have a Council meeting to attend,” said Alex. “You arrange tickets and transport Tamila and good luck!”

Chris found suitable premises in North London near to the M25 ring for easy transport access and within two weeks the machinery arrived with six workers, four Romanians and two Bulgarians that had worked at the Hungarian plant for a number of years. Fortunately much of the fabrication and coating processes were highly mechanised. The precise measurements, cutting and fitting the pieces together on jigs was computer controlled. There was minimum waste and that would be shipped back to the foundry for reprocessing.

Alex’s main problem was how to cope with the spare capacity at the factory. He would have to sell to the trade in the UK. Chris volunteered to visit Renton Associates and see if they would be interested in purchasing high class windows. Armed with a catalogue and price list she ventured forth. Production was up within two weeks of arrival of the plant which was set up in mirror image of the one in Budapest. Tamila had taken hundreds of photos as the machinery was being dismantled, ensuring that every piece was clearly labelled and referenced to the plans.

With Donni in charge the men were mini bussed to the outskirts of Enfield every morning from Brixton. This was a long and tedious journey in London even early morning and late at night. The men elected to make camp in the spare offices at the factory. Alex provided them with the necessary facilities to be comfortable.

Tamlia approached Alex and warned him that their cash flow was getting critical and revenues were behind outgoings. The main cost was labour and that was critical to his operation. He went to see Ronnie who was checking out a Day Trading system that they had been investigating for some time.

“OK where are we with our plans with you know what Ronnie?” asked Alex as he was offered a seat next to Ronnie facing a bank of computer screens.

“I think we are almost there Alex. To make money you have to have some experience of the complexity of the buying and selling, not so much on the choice of shares. Most of these professional traders only work an hour or so a day, buy and sell at a small set increase or sell at a set drop in price so losses are minimised. The main principal is not to be greedy it seems.”

“OK, I get that but I don’t want to be glued to a screen for an hour a day, do you Ronnie?” asked Alex.

“No, but we can mechanise most of these elements. I have a facilitator in mind that can do all the administration for us. He will deal with the broker, money in and out and all we have to do is give him the daily list of trading and our instructions,” said Ronnie looking smug.

“Yeah, it’s the last part that leaves me worried,” replied Alex.

“I told you that there are many professionals that trade every day and make good money. They advertise their pecking order to curry more investment from lazy punters like us.”

“How much investment do they need and what are their costs?”

“The good ones, in the top ten, demand twenty to a hundred thousand dollars to buy in and they can afford to have low charges because they lever the punters money to four times. That’s the limit in trading. So, each thousand invested by the punter becomes four thousand to these professionals. That’s where they make a killing and with their huge buying power, they manipulate the market and get out before the price drops. The punters effectively lose seventy-five per cent of their true winnings.”

“OK, OK, you have explained to me that a million times but how do we copy these professionals? By the time we check what they are doing, if we can, then they will be disposing their stock and we will be missing out.”

“That’s the nub of the game. I have developed a programme that identifies for me the top ten professionals the previous week, and we base our instructions to our broker within nanoseconds of their purchase pattern.”

“How do we know their broker and what they are trading each day?”

“They advertise their broker to appear totally kosher to their punters and each of their transactions is tagged. I have worked out what their tagging reference is so that my programme detects what they are buying each day and copies their trading but with our limits. If we use say ten top traders last week then we invest ten percent of our cash in each, to our specific limits which will be lower than theirs so we make less money but don’t end up with egg on face.”

“Sounds too easy. Why isn’t everybody doing just that?”

“Simple, because they don’t have the methodology to instantly follow these traders; I have and can prove it. I have been ghosting these traders for the past four weeks and we have been making on average two percent each day.”

“Doesn’t sound too exciting!” remarked Alex pulling a glum face.

“Do the maths Alex. For every thousand pounds invested we make twenty pounds each day at each of the five markets. Times that by two-fifty, trading days in a year that’s twenty five grand per year. How does that sound? Then up that by ten.”

“That’s more impressive!”

“That’s a very pessimistic calculation; we could make more, almost matching the trader’s pile which is treble of that. That’s including broker’s transaction cost and the facilitator’s charges. I’ve also tried out two facilitating companies, ETORO and NIO, they do all the management and you as the punter just invest some cash. They simply copy strategies deployed by the leading investors. Our proposed system doubled our earnings so I‘ve rejected them.”

“What do you recommend that we invest Ronnie?”

“Say ten grand each and we play five markets per day, New York, London, Frankfurt, Hong Kong and Sydney. I can set it up for us today. By the way, the money comes back into our account three days later but the facilitator will cover each day’s trading through his bank based on our earnings. You should earn in the region of five grand per week, maybe more.”

“Have you got the spare cash?”

“Yes, enough savings for this flutter. Just transfer the dollar amount to this account in Washington DC with Reference ‘Turner747’ which I’ve already set up for you and we start trading in two days’ time. We draw out our winnings immediately and put in a separate account just to be safe Alex.”

“OK so I should be expecting hundred dollars in my new account in a few days’ time.”

“More like over a thousand dollars a day each, just sitting on your hands. I’ll be following the transactions just for interest sake.”

“Shouldn’t we invest more?”

“Let’s go easy initially. Let’s not be greedy Alex.”

“Understood Ronnie. Will I see you at the gig this week?”

“Of course, for it’s me to set up your equipment, monitor it and monitor you! Bye Alex.”

Chapter13

“Hi Alex, come on in; haven’t seen you for a while. Been busy with setting up the plant in Enfield and settling in the workers,” said Chris as she ushered Alex in with a bright welcoming smile. “I’ve just brewed up some Peruvian coffee. It’s good you’ll like it. I know your taste buds are shattered but you might just enjoy it better than tap water. Jesus is out on a site visit. Do sit down.”

“Thanks for the warm welcome. I’ve also come on a site visit here and to thank you for the good work you’ve done in Enfield plus the sales effort with Renton’s,” said Alex as his sipped his coffee and put on a surprised face. “This is good. Now you must show me around your apartment. I haven’t seen the finished product yet. It looks very elegant so far.”

“We love it Alex. Had some concerns initially with the external works but we overcame that when you gave Jesus free reign in the design,” said Chris waving him to come and look at their lounge area. “These new bays at the front catch the sun in mornings and we have our breakfast there. Your idea of having a storage room or junk room was also good; keeps the flat tidy. Now piece de résistance is the wrought iron look balconies you insisted we had at the rear, face the sun in the evening and are super for dinners and drinks. We are very happy here Alex.”

“That’s good. I can see the apartments at the back here are coming on a pace. Do you get any noise from the workers?” asked Alex.

“No more than one would expect but the new triple glazed windows help,” said Chris leading Alex back to the lounge area where they sat down together on the large sofa. “I went to Rentons yesterday to finalise the sale of some more windows and big trouble is brewing up there.”

“Tell me more!” asked Alex with interest. “Is it just office gossip?”

“No, it’s for real. They have sacked the CEO Kurt Rindersson who you have met. He’s not very well liked there. He sacked the three Renton brothers to save money because they hadn’t attended any Board meetings but still drew a substantial salary as Non-Executive Directors. But they had invested more than a million pounds each when the Company were down on the heels in debt. That didn’t go down well with most of the old guard.”

“I got the impression from Kurt that Rentons are doing well now!”

“They are but apparently they lost their impetus when the last CEO was killed in an accident. I felt that and was glad to leave,” said Chris as she topped up their cups with coffee. “The other misdemeanour was that he tried to sell off three businesses to concentrate on the core. Give him his due, he got a very good price but when the Accounts Department investigated further, they found that our Kurt was due to hefty commissions from the buyers and to cap it all was found to be a Non-Exec at each of these companies and would probably expect to be upgraded to a full Board Member when the deals came through.”

“I didn’t see him as such a devious fellow; so what happened to him?”

“Stasiek, one of the founders, flew from Poland and threw him out bodily from the building. When Kurt got uppity Stasiek said he should have thrown him out from his office window, four floors up. Obviously, Kurt shouted he was going to sue for unfair dismissal and prosecute for bodily harm. The fifty or so office workers who had gathered to watch with glee announced that they saw nothing out of the ordinary. Kurt had just tripped on the steps leaving.”

“Wow, so who has taken over Chris?”

“Stasiek the architect for now and they are hoping that an old friend of the company and major investor would take the reins,” said Chris as she put her cup down on the elegant wooden side table. “His father owns a private bank.”

“Well does this put our business in jeopardy?”

“I wouldn’t think so since Stasiek signed off our order himself.”

“That’s good; saves us from more intensive sales work.”

“The plot gets thicker. Have you spoken to Tamila today? No well she rang me and we had a long discussion on the matter before we referred it to you. We understood that Kurt offloaded the Wade Park building to you for free, to get rid of the enormous expenses tied up with the derelict building. Tamila got a letter from him expecting us or you to pay two million pounds as agreed. Hold on, we are checking the legal pack because we thought it was gratis and secondly he instructed for the money to be paid to a suspicious account not Renton’s. Tamila checked and the bank was in Bahamas and the Company had no connection to Renton’s.”

“Have you contacted this Stasiek yet?” asked Alex looking perplexed.

“No, we were waiting to disclose this matter plus our investigations to you first,” answered Chris looking concerned.

“I shall call him straight away and you get Tamila to Email a copy to Stasiek,” said Alex as he got his phone out and speed dialled. “Good afternoon, this is Alex Turner and I’d like to speak to Stasiek your acting CEO on a very urgent matter right away.”

“Please hold,” said the receptionist and a few moments later she announced, “Alex Turner for you Stasiek.”

“We haven’t met Mr. Turner but I know all about you from the magnificent renovation on Wade Street and the fine windows you are supplying us; how can I help you?” said a voice with a distinct East European accent.

“It’s Alex and I may be able to help you with a current issue you have. An Email should be on the way to you with an attachment concerning a business deal I did with Kurt on behalf of Renton’s.”

“Yes, I remember; ah, I’ve got the Email, it’s a bill for two million pounds for Wade Park building. I thought we just were disposing it,” said Stasiek over the phone.

“Correct. If you check out the bank account then you will find it’s based in the Bahamas and our investigation shows it has no connection to your Company,” stated Alex.

“This sounds like a case of fraud. I shall get our legal people to investigate. I’m very glad you made me aware of this issue. We sacked Kurt for other misdemeanours and this just adds and confirms our suspicions of his activities. I must leave you now and take actions. We are grateful to you Alex.” The call ended.

“Well, I hope that’s the end of that,” said Alex. “Please inform Tamila. You probably heard all of that.”

“Alex, I have another matter for you to consider,” said Chris as Alex nodded for her to continue. “You have had me looking for good solid doors at a sensible price and I think I have found a reasonable supplier.”

“Go on I’m interested.”

“I know you spend a lot of time on YouTube Alex; have you come across Bamboo as a material?”

“Yeah, lots of info. Are you suggesting we use Bamboo doors? Expensive me thinks and how would they cope in a damp climate like UK?”

“I’ve investigated and found a manufacturer in Guatemala, a technical college that is training up woodworkers. They have their own bamboo groves and a complete plant that can produce any furniture or building product in Bamboo,” said Chris. “I thought you would be keen to help a Third World Country Alex. I have spoken to the Director and he is sending a catalogue and some samples. I grilled him thoroughly in Spanish and he seemed genuine and eager to do business.”

“What about shipping costs?”

“I’ve checked and full container costs are quite reasonable with regular shipping,” answered Chris showing Alex pictures of sample products on her tablet. “Director there said that they can manufacture complete door frames, architraves and matching skirting which in his words gave the rooms a luxurious look.”

“Well, I’m not into the luxurious look business but if the product is good and price matches anything we can procure here then we should go for it. Can they produce the volume?”

“Their own production is fairly small but the college runs a Co-operative where their graduates set up their own businesses and the college coordinates the sales and marketing.”

“I like their styles and their specifications. Durability sounds good, much better than the cardboard filled doors we get here. I know you are keen Chris so this is what we do. There are a number of Spanish speaking workers on our books so find a candidate and both of you fly to this place and check them out. If the product and their production lines are as good as you seem to believe then purchase sufficiently for Wade Park and your candidate can stay there and be a quality controller. I don’t want differences appearing between different workshops.”

“Great, I’m glad you approve Alex, I’ll contact our panel fabricator in Bedfordshire and get the specifications and sizes correct,” said Chris with a glint in her eye. “Now another request Alex; Jesus is away tonight will you stay for dinner and sleep over with me tonight. It was so wonderful in Budapest.”

“I’m somewhat embarrassed Chris, you are married and I don’t want to tip the applecart with Jesus. He’s such a valuable asset to me.”

“Shouldn’t worry about that. I told him about our thing in Budapest and he was OK with it, quite open minded, particularly when it improved our own sex life immensely.”

Chapter 14

“Good afternoon Councillor Turner,” said Andrea with an impish grin as Alex walked into her office and plonked himself down in an armchair. “You look bushed, what have you been up to?”

“A long story but you will have to listen to it since it might just shed some light on my past,” said Alex with a long sigh.

“Is it to do with that phone call I had with a Scottish Prosecutor?”

“It is Andrea and thanks for the support. I had two Scottish bobbies fly down from Scotland to arrest me for GHB and manslaughter. Apparently Alistair MacSwall had got into a fracas in a pub and in the car park. Alistair or me beat the crap out of this guy whilst his mates held him against the wall.”

“That doesn’t seem like you although your file does describe you as being a boisterous fellow easy to anger,” said Andrea. “How did the police catch up with you?”

“Well initially they heard that I was reported as dead so they closed the file but recently one of the cops played football and heard I was alive and kicking and moved down to London,” answered Alex. “They couldn’t find me because I had changed my name. Eventually the Met found me and two cops came, flew me to Glasgow and threw me in jail!”

“Oh, you poor thing, were you frightened?”

“No just very angry and annoyed plus being very puzzled,” said Alex with a frown. “They arranged a lawyer and they questioned me endlessly and didn’t believe that I had total amnesia even though the Paisley Hospital confirmed it.”

“They should have contacted me,” stated Andrea.

“That’s what I told them but they seem to work very slowly. Anyway, they eventually showed me the incriminating video, a grainy picture taken by a security camera in the car park. It was too difficult to recognise anybody but Alistair’s mate had confessed that it was me.”

“That sounds tough, go on!”

“I couldn’t believe the situation I was in but I had the sense to ask them to freeze frame the video. The fight or more the beating took place by a doorway so for reference I stood by the door in the interrogation room with my back turned, hunched down and swinging my fists. I asked them if I looked anything like the man in the video. They stared at it for ages as my lawyer smiled away waiting for them to notice the difference. At last they noticed and agreed that I was much, much taller than this Alistair. They threw me back in a cell whilst they pondered.”

“Why didn’t they get these so called mates to just identify you?”

“They eventually did in a line up for God’s sake. I stood there like a pillock with five others whilst four footballers who knew Alistair simply walked by dismissing all of us because we were all too tall,” remarked Alex. “They had the audacity to suggest I had grown in the mean time. The Prosecutor rang you at my suggestion and threw the case out as mistaken identity.”

“Well at least that allows me to throw my file on Alistair away. I always had an inkling that was the case. We or I need to get back to the London Hospital and find out where the mistake took place,” said Alice closing the file and pushing it away.”

“No use, I went there myself. Don’t forget they knew me well. Apparently there was so much chaos at A&E that night that they couldn’t trace who I was. There were many casualties brought in that night, from the coach and others who were injured in the accident plus a host of others from North London. I checked their records and couldn’t find anyone who could match me. I even checked missing people reported in London that night.”

“Oh dear, we have a problem,” said Andrea. “The only way we are going to find out who you are is digging deeper into your memory banks and see if we can dredge something from there.”

“I found out something else concerning you Andrea?”

“And what is that?”

“The NHS appointed a Psychotherapist, you Andrea, to have four sessions with me at one hundred and fifty pounds an hour paid by the tax payer and I’ve been coming here regularly for over a year.”

“True but I found your case and you most interesting so I carried on trying to crack the case,” said Andrea. “I only charged the NHS for the four months contracted.”

“So I owe you for the other months. I shall have to check my diary.”

“No need and you can keep on coming. Look on it as a friend rather than a patient. I enjoy these meetings and we have a good time afterwards, don’t we? You don’t want to stop do you?” asked Andrea anxiously.

“Well this puts a different picture on things. I would feel more comfortable paying you or maybe investigating all of this in a pub or restaurant rather than at your clinic here,” stated Alex.

“OK but I would rather carry on with a formal session here then continue by going out. I must admit I learn more about you when we are informal. I think you must have been a party person in the past and maybe by going out partying someone might recognise you. By the way, that gig you invited me to was really good. I was a bit put out by your adoring fan club of girls.”

“Yes they come every gig now and mob me. I’ll let you have a ticket for everyone we do. We have a large following, even turning punters back.”

“I’d love that. Now I have booked a busy Thai restaurant for tonight and we’ll find a busy pub. I have to change tactics with you and get to expose you to as many people as possible in hope of recognition. Come on let’s go and don’t forget you are staying with me tonight!”

They went into a busy pub but just pushed their way through the crowd to the back and then elbowed their way out to find somewhere quieter. Eventually Andrea took Alex to a Thai restaurant for their strongest curries to try.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you Alex. Trying to piece together your background from what we have gathered so far,” stated Andrea as she loaded up Alex’s plate with different curries. “Nurture or nature is the question? I believe that your background and character is showing itself through the miasma of amnesia. Now listen. You are obviously intelligent, educated to a high level, probably private education, social adept, charming, quite a gentleman with impeccable manners, fluent in Spanish and French, very musically talented; I could go on and on. You didn’t learn all that at the hospitals or on the building sites nor from YouTube. A catch like you must have had a wife, even kids.”

“But if I had why haven’t they been looking for me?”

“Because you died in a North London Hospital and they are probably grieving over you. I’ve put a picture of you in the Standard and a short note to see if anybody can recognise you but I haven’t had any positive response. Now eat up and tell me if you like any of these dishes?”

“I can’t distinguish the flavours very much only the peppery heat. I’m afraid food is wasted on me. I only eat when I feel hunger coming on then it’s usually a quick snack, tin of heated beans generally does the trick. The elderly couples on Wade Street invite me for lunch regularly. I go as a social thing, take a bottle of wine and they think it’s very sophisticated.”

“That’s a pity Alex. Most people of your stature and character usually enjoy their food and make a big thing of it,” said Andrea.

“For me it’s a filler. I could live on tins of baked beans and pot noodles, quick and easy so please don’t order expensive dishes for me. A plate of boiled rice, potatoes and bread is sufficient. I am a bore I’m afraid as far a food goes.”

“Well, I enjoy food and the social occasion of eating out. That reminds me we have a date at my flat tonight so don’t dilly dally young man!”

Chapter 15

“Tamila, good to see you looking so radiant; you’ve coloured you hair and more make up than usual,” said Alex as he greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks.

“Just for you Alex, knew you were coming and we are going out to Bedfordshire to see Phillip at the concrete place. He has something new to show us,” answered Tamila, grabbing her handbag and keys. “My car is parked out front. I turned down your offer of a parking place in the car park you created from the gardens at the back. We need the revenue. We’ll talk in the car,” stated Tamila as she steered him down the pavement to her car. “It’s going to be a long drive with the London traffic.”

“Tell me, are all the car spaces rented out and how’s the allotment allocation going?” asked Alex as he backed into the car and racked the seat right back to make room for his long legs.

“All twenty spaces rented out for fifty quid a week and we have a waiting list. I made them pay a deposit of five hundred quid for a fob to open the gates. I know it’s a lot but if someone loses a fob we have to replace twenty,” replied Tamila tapping the destination post code into the satnav. We had a draw for the allotments only from the locals and we have a waiting list. They have paid two hundred quid per plot and I’ve charged fifty quid to be on the waiting list to sort out the really interested ones.”

“You’ve done well Tamila!”

“Thank you boss, we need the revenue, the cash flow is a problem. There’s a regular payment coming in referenced ‘InTrader’, do you know anything about this?”

“Yes, I’m investing in the stock exchange with Ronnie and we are on a winning streak,” answered Alex. “Ronnie has developed a computerised system based on professional Daily Traders who do all the hard work and we just copy their purchases and sales.”

“Sounds complicated and risky to me,” stated Tamila as they drove onto the motorway access road. “This business with Kurt was rather fishy. Good job I investigated it further before I contacted you.”

“Good thinking, now this Stasiek is in charge for the moment. Do you know him?”

“Yes, met him a few times but he spend most of his time in Warsaw where he’s got his Architectural Bureau and his wife runs a Interior Design Agency. He’s a good sound guy from all accounts,” said Tamila. “I heard on the grape vine that Mr. Partinger Jnr., the banker and major investor will be taking over. He’s about your age and very bright; nowhere near as good looking as you. Don’t forget you are booked for a sleep over with me tonight not Chris.”

“So you girls do discuss me, bit embarrassing!”

“You’ll live!”

Tamila parked in front of the offices of the concrete works and Phillip came out to greet them.

“Glad you came, I have a number of things to show you and discuss. It may be to your benefit,” said Philip, a short guy with sandy hair and a warm smile, dressed in overalls. He took them into his office and ordered refreshments. “I’ve just had a new order from a new developer for my product for tower blocks three times the size of yours. He wants a keen price and I’ve had to review my manufacturing process. To fulfil my orders, I’ve had to man up and tool up. I contacted my suppliers but they won’t offer me much discount so it’s going to substantially lower my profits.”

“Sounds as if you should dump this order and keep your margins,” suggested Alex.

“True but there could be further orders from this developer so I’ve changed my process,” said Phillip. “Have you heard of Bio Fabrication or Bio Mimicry, well no, not many people have. My greatest cost is in the special cement I use and that’s not only expensive to produce but not very climate friendly, needs lots of coal or oil.”

“I know where you are heading now,” said Alex. “It was on YouTube where you let reef microbes create the cement.”

“That’s it; you get the right proportion of microbes, feed, water and cheap lime powder, mix it well with normal aggregate, spread it into forms and set it aside for a few days. The microbes set to work and make the cement as they would do on a coral reef and we end up with a panel as good as by the normal method but third of the price. Let me show you,” said Phillip as he led them out into the noisy factory.

“Here are two panels that I will supply to you. One is normal method and the other Bio. No you can’t tell the difference, only by the markings,” stated Phillip rather proudly. I’ve brought you along because I’m going to test them to destruction so that you can see for yourself. I have tested them to building regulation specification and they reach that.”

A forklift positioned the two panels onto two blocks set apart, at the panel short edges. A block of concrete, a ton in weight was placed on the exact centre of each with no sign of bowing further blocks were added and the panels inspected for cracks. One panel was showing some signs of bowing more than the other. With further weight added one panel bowed more and the other cracked and snapped in two.

“OK Phillip you are going to tell me that the Bio panel withstood the weight?” stated Alex.

“Correct and we’ll add more weight until it breaks.” Two more tons added before stress fractures appeared and the panel finally cracked into four pieces. “I knew it or at least suspected it,” shouted Phillip in excitement. “Not only stronger but has more tensile strength than ordinary concrete.”

“Well, I’m impressed Phillip. So are you going to change production,” asked Alex.

“I wish I could but I need to test its vertical structural strength and stress before it’s accepted by Building Regulations and that could take months or even years,” said Phillip putting on a glum face. I shall use them on internal panels only. You see there could be another problem if they are exposed to constant moisture in our climate. The chemical Bio process may restart. It wouldn’t expand the panels much but I don’t want to test that.”

“Have you consulted experts Phillip?” asked Tamila.

“I’ve contracted a Biochemist and she’s been advising me on the mix.”

“Where do you get the microbes,” asked Alex.

“We have a culture here and our Biochemist breeds them,” said Phillip and added, “I believe that if moisture gets into ordinary concrete it can get into the fine cracks and damage the structure and oxidise the rebars, but in our case the microbes restart and heal the concrete.”

“Interesting Phillip but where does that leave us with my contract?”

“Well Alex if you will accept these new panels for internal work then I can offer you further discount for being the guinea pig.”

“You want me to take all risk so that you can publicise these panels for your benefit?”

“Well yes. You get a discount which I wouldn’t pass on to others. I need to up my healthy margins. I won’t even publicise the new production methods which might attract doubters. You know how conservative the building industry is. They will tinker about the edges but not with basic bricks and concrete.”

“True I will concur with you on that and yes I will accept your Bio panels.”

“Brilliant, let’s go out and celebrate. Lunch, and you will have a chance to meet our Biochemist and you can grill her mercilessly.”

“A women?” asked Tamila. “In the building industry! Amazing!”

“Yes, Tamilla and she’s pretty to boot not like normal hairy arsed builders. Come on I’m hungry.”

Chapter 16

“Hi Alex, can you come to my office after this meeting. I have something you might be interested in,” said Elma, the Housing Manager, as they walked down the corridor towards the meeting room “and tell me something else?”

“Sure, to the first and what are you going to ask me?”

“Well, you seem to wear denim jacket, T, and chinos all the time. Most Councillors dress up in jacket and ties showing off their finery. Are you out to make a statement?”

“They are comfortable and easy to take care of,” stated Alex. “I change daily and everything goes to the laundry weekly. Are you detecting body odours?”

“No, no you are very clean and tidy Alex, I wasn’t insinuating that!”

“OK it is a kind of involuntary statement. If I wore a suit and tie, then people in the street of Brixton would pass me by. I’m more accessible with this gear especially since I have a posh accent. I don’t care what the other Councillors think. They are a fuddy-duddy lot, liking the sound of their pompous voices. Do you think I’m out of step?” asked Alex.

“Definitely but you add some colour to the proceedings. Don’t forget I need to see you in my office after,” said Elma as Alex strode up to the front to take a seat in the Chairman’s place, dumping his satchel next to the gavel.

“Thank God you kept that short,” said Elma as Alex strode into her office and plonked himself down in an easy chair. “Some of those Councillors should have a spell at being homeless or in cramped accommodation. They don’t realise what some people have to put up with!”

“It’s all too easy for them. I do invite them to do a walk around the estates but they are afraid of getting shit on their shoes and these are exactly the type of people that don’t vote so why bother about them. I do try and get them to see the true picture.”

“You do Alex and I like the way you butt in if they are going off the subject,” stated Elma vehemently.

“OK what have you got for me Elma?”

“You know that old indoor market on the High Street that’s been boarded up for years?”

“You not going to foist it off onto me, are you?” said Alex smiling.

“Well, I could do worse. I don’t know if you are aware but the Council has been trying to dispose of it for years and nobody wants it at any price.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s a monstrosity from the Victorian Age with iron girders and probably nasty asbestos everywhere. I remember as a young girl going shopping there with my mother and being crapped on by masses of pigeons. They roost in the roof. The cost of demolition seems to be prohibitive to most and it’s in Brixton, not the most salubrious of Boroughs.”

“I suppose you think I could do with a challenge?”

“Not really but you and your guys are full of ideas. I could do with decent shops at the front and a block of flats at the back for my many homeless clients. Please go and have a look at it,” pleaded Elma. “Keys are here for the padlock and take a torch, the utilities will have been cut off.”

“OK, just for you Elma but I’m not promising anything,” said Alex, picking up the keys and gliding out of the office.

Chris and Jesus located Alex in his favourite cafe where he normally held his Council surgery and it was conveniently situated on the High Street.

“We’ve done as you requested Alex, spent over three hours in there,” said Chris as they both sat down and ordered coffees.

“OK Jesus should I be interested or should I give the keys back?” asked Alex with a slight smile.

“It’s vast and architecturally interesting and surprisingly in good structural strength. You should see it,” said Jesus. “I’m not sure you could do anything with it or even be allowed to.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, it’s a masterpiece of best Victorian wrought ironwork. I wouldn’t be surprised if it isn’t listed. It would be a shame to knock it down, even disastrous.”

“Wow, that good but hasn’t it rotted away over the years?” asked Alex taking more interest.

“That’s the thing Alex, the wrought iron can stand up to years of neglect especially if it’s been painted over numerous times,” said Chris. “The structure is an iron dome like St Pauls and the cupola on the top has lost many of its wooden slats. That’s where the pigeons get in and out. We climbed up onto the roof and we reckon that during the last war, to form a blackout, the whole roof, iron and glass was covered in a thick layer of pitch or tar which has nicely preserved the whole structure.”

“Wow, yes, I’d like to see it from curiosity. Now is there any mileage in it for development?” asked Alex. “What can we do without knocking it down?” asked Alex ready to get up and go.

“It’s vast and would be grand for one of our gigs once it’s cleaned up of course and the balconies are demolished. They are rotten,” stated Jesus, “beyond saving.”

“Let’s go and look!”

“It is vast and grimy but I reckon if we cleaned up the glass in the roof it would brighten the whole place up,” said Alex as they strode carefully through the rubbish piled high on the floor. I can visualise a huge stage at the end there with spots in the roof. Tables and chairs, dance floor in the middle and fast-food places on the outer edge,” continued Alex musing aloud. “Extend new balconies with proper restaurants and tables overlooking the stage and dance floor.”

“Well, that’s a grand vision Alex, we never considered that element,” said Chris. “We were just considering bog standard redevelopment but your idea might just save the place. There’s something like that in Camden we should visit and get some ideas.”

“Good thinking Chris. I’m getting excited,” exclaimed Alex. “How many people do you reckon it would hold?”

“I ran a laser measure across the space and it’s four times the size of our place where we hold gigs so it could squash in two thousand people, half that with tables and chairs, but there are the balconies to consider,”

“You are right Jesus, we can’t let this place go to rack and ruin but how are we going to get rid of the pigeons?” asked Alex.

“That’s easy,” stated Chris, “we chase them out during the day and block up the cupola with wire mesh! We just need loads of skips to get rid of the rubbish. Come on let’s get out, it’s too creepy in here.” They walked out and Jesus barred the door securely.

“Jesus, you draw up a proposal. A framework of what we discussed and we’ll let Ronnie loose on it with his computer,” stated Alex. “I’ll check with the Council to see if there are any plans in the archives.”

“Hi Alex, any luck with the plans,” asked Jesus on the phone.

“No but I’ve got a set of old sepia photographs taken at the opening,” replied Alex. “I’ll send them to you. The frontage looks superb, none of that modern clutter hiding the front. You can see that signage, ‘Brixton Market Hall 1876,’ we will have to uncover all of that. It’s our local heritage and Brixton could do with heaps of that.”

“Sounds good. I shall use them in my submission to the Planning Department. I’ve been in there again and done a whole laser survey of the place and passed it onto Ronnie so no real need for the old plans.”

“What do you think of the place on your second visit?”

“Third actually. I think it’s impressive and we should do all we can to save it!” said Jesus emphatically. “Chris has been to Camden Market to survey the food stalls and has come back with tons of ideas backed up by photographs. These have gone to Ronnie to create a virtual reality video which we can include in our presentation.”

“Hang on Jesus, we may not get the place at economic terms,” answered Alex.

“If you don’t take it on yourself then I will Alex. I’d rather you did because you have the real talent for developing and actually finishing projects to a high level,” stated Jesus.

“Are you trying to butter me up Jesus?”

“No, I’m just impressed by your instinctive business talent amongst other skills you have so please say ‘yes’ and I will support you to the hilt!”

“Thanks Jesus, I know I can rely on you fully. I will go and discuss our decision to take on this project. It’s a pity that I’m the Chair of the Planning Committee. I will have to absent myself from the proceedings.”

“Understood Alex but we’ll use Tamila to do the main presentation. She is so good in front of an audience and speaks so well. She will do us proud. Must go Alex I have an appointment with a client.”

“So, you have decided to take on the Market Hall Alex?” said Elma.

“I have but you are not going to like what I say,” replied Alex as he sat down and removed a file from his satchel, removed a sepia photograph and presented it to Elma.

“Is this what it used to be? I can’t believe it! I suppose all that has disappeared by now,” said Elma poring over other photographs that Alex presented.

“Oh, it’s still there Elma; covered by ages if filth and random extensions that have obliterated the wonderful fabric and facia,” answered Alex showing Elma the structural plan produced by Jesus.

“Can you uncover all of this and save this magnificent structure?”

“That’s my intention Elma but you will have to say goodbye to your Social Housing plans.”

“Bugger that Alex we must save this for posterity. Nobody realised that we had such a gem in Brixton. What are your plans Alex?”

“I’m glad you agree with us Elma. We want to uncover the full glory of the structure to what you see in the photos and turn the place into a food hall and concert venue at night. Something similar to the one in Camden but in a much finer setting,” continued Alex looking rather pleased.

“Where do you need my help Alex? I will support you any way I can.”

“Well, you know I’ve made a lot of enemies in the Planning Committee. They are envious of my success and seemingly making money off their backs so another kind of frivolous project will not go down well,” stated Alex. “I want you to lead the lobby group on this without bringing in me. I suggest you involve the local History and Archaeological groups as well as some influential Councillors. In fact, we should get in touch with British Heritage and get the building listed. We mustn’t forget the financial element required to renovate and maintain the building. That’s where the alternative use is important,” said Alex.

“I’ll follow all that up but I need some materials to support my lobbing.”

“You will have all that. We believe that initially we leak this find to the local and National papers to curry interest then we follow that up with a short video of the current state of the place, followed by a series of videos to display what could be done with the place, finishing with one showing it as a place of sin and debauchery. You know what I mean!” stated Alex.

“Sin and debauchery would seal the deal but I get the gist. The only danger to your plan is that some lobby group wants to preserve it in cotton wool for posterity,” stated Elma.

“I should think the cost of renovation might just put them off but a local entrepreneur with supposed lots of loose cash spilling out of his pockets might get some acceptance,” stated Alex.

“There’s lots of funds you can apply for. With your gift for the gab and charm, half the businesses in Brixton will fund you just for the publicity,” said Elma with a smile. “We’ll part company here Alex if we may, so that they don’t see the dreaded conspirators entering holding hands.”

The external lobbying did the trick particularly that the Council didn’t need to fund the project but Alex insisted that they provided a substantial donation to appear on the list of generous donors. It was a close vote but Alex won the day by close margins and got a lease for a pepper corn rent and only the traders would pay a portion of their turnover to the Council as tax. Alex would be allowed to charge a commercial rent from the traders to maintain the building. Elma lost out on more housing projects for her long waiting list of needy clients. Jesus was elated with a much enlarged venue for his gigs.

Chapter 17

“Come in Alex, come in, good to see you,” shouted Andrea from her desk, “I really enjoyed the gig the other night. I was a bit jealous of all the girls surrounding you when you came off stage. I couldn’t get near you to say hello!”

“Yeh, it gets a bit crowded in there and my following of young girls is a bit daunting,” answered Alex sitting down in an armchair opposite Andrea.

“I was tiny bit jealous there as they were mobbing you. Next time I’ll have to elbow myself in!” said Andrea with a smile. “Where did you learn the Flamenco guitar? You were fabulous accompanying Jesus on the guitar and Christina dancing. Was that Tamila? I didn’t recognise her in her Flamenco dress.”

“Yes it was Tamila; she is very talented girl and picked up the flamenco quickly enough to do her own solo dance, even the hard-nosed Spaniards approved. Her natural colouring helps,” replied Alex as he settled in the armchair facing Andrea.

“Now tell me what you have been up to since we last met like this?”

“A lots happened; did you know we have discovered an architectural gem in Brixton and I have got the go ahead to develop it?”

“So that was you, was it? It was all over the news and a bit on YouTube on the proposed development,” replied Andrea leaning forward expressing interest.

“I’m not the best loved bunny on the Planning Committee so I tried to keep a low profile,” answered Alex.

“But I thought you Chaired that Committee?”

“I do but it’s full of fuddy-duddies who only wish to pick up choice sites and developments, also to deter competition. I’ve had expel some of these Councillors for misdemeanours which as you can guess has created a clique of opposition,” said Alex vehemently.

“So, what are you doing about them?” asked Andrea.

“Well, I’m exposing them at every opportunity and surreptitiously instigating angry division amongst them with a bit of exaggerated fake news.”

“And I thought you were such a nice guy,” said Andrea, “Tell me more!”

“Well, I’m hoping to besmirch their reputation so that the public don’t vote for them in the next elections. I have lots of support from the Council Staff.”

“But aren’t they all proposed and supported by Political Parties?”

“They are but I’m spreading the rumours that these people are ‘out of sell by date’ and no aufait with current times and local issues. The Council needs a drastic clean out with new blood and I don’t really care from which party they come.”

“Wow! I’m glad you got that off your chest. How did you get voted as Chairs of three Committees then?” asked Andrea.

“I frightened the other possible candidates not to stand by truthful character assassinations.”

“I shall remember not to get on the wrong side of you Alex. Where has all this confident aggression come from? You must have been or held some important position in the past even though you seem rather young. We shall have to delve into that more. Anything else of significance happened,” asked Andrea, changing the subject.

“Well yes, more of a significant incident which I’m dying to share!”

“Carry on Mac Duff!”

“Last week on Monday I rang Jeff Roche at Renton’s to try and curry up some interest in buying these bamboo doors from Guatemala that I mentioned last time. They are really high class and more into their type of development than mine. I’m trying to promote a Third World Company.”

“Did they turn you down?” asked Andrea.

“No, Jeff had received some samples from me earlier and was quite taken with the idea,” said Alex. “He said that their new CEO was in residence, Mr. Partinger and would I like to speak with him as an introduction. He put me through and a pleasant culture voice announced himself ‘Partridge,’ and I assumed that was his public school nickname he was using. You know how these guys usually refer to each other by their surname or nickname. Anyway, I introduced myself and he had heard about me and immediately told me he was a banker by profession and asked who I banked with?”

“Was he fishing for business?” asked Andrea.

“Yes, he was and suggested he sent one of his Senior Officer to interview me and describe the type of bespoke service they could offer my business. I tried to explain I was just a self-employed business man, employing only self-employed workers.”

“I must admit I don’t quite understand your business model but it seems strange and possibly inefficient tax wise,” added Andrea.

“I’m not adverse to paying taxes Andrea to keep the Country afloat. I know from experience how short the Councils are of cash. So we arrange that he sends one of his guys to meet me and my Administrator, Tamila. He doesn’t give a name but I give him my venue, the cafe on the High Street where I hold my Council surgery.”

“That’s peculiar! Why doesn’t he give you a name?”

“I realised why later. There I was sitting at a table by the window waiting for my next constituent to tell me their grievances when the door of the cafe opened and this lady walked in. The noise and clatter stopped as everyone fell silent, mouths agape, looking at this striking or in vernacular parlance, ‘a stunning’ blond. Even I was astounded by her beauty. Tall, slim, wearing an aquamarine suit, pencil skirt, white silk blouse, low heels and leather satchel in one hand, phone in the other; straight from the front page of Vogue,” said Alex quite animated.

“So, you fell in love immediately!” laughed Andrea. “Go on!”

“She walks, no lopes, like on a catwalk, to the counter and asks for me by name, ‘Councillor Turner.’ Bella on the counter could only point at me with her mouth gaping wide with astonishment. She turned towards me, smiled, slipped he phone deftly into her left hand with her brief case and loped the six long paces towards me with an outstretched hand in greeting. My next client sitting opposite me just dematerialised as I stood and offered my hand. It was a strong handshake and I managed to say ‘Hello’ as she introduced herself in a plumy voice, ‘Kendall Spicer-Grey,’ in a slight American accent.”

“So did you ravage her on the spot?” asked Andrea leaning forward with interest.

“Not just then but I made an executive decision to halt my surgery and get her out of the cafe, out of the stare of thirty people. I remembered to open the door for her as a gentleman even though I felt quite uncomfortable in her presence.”

“How did you know she was from the Bank?”

“As we walked out, she handed me her card. It was like a Charlie Chaplin film with people bumping into each other and lamp posts as they were totally distracted by this beautiful apparition loping past. We passed pleasantries and I asked her what a beautiful lady like her doing working for a bank. She told me she would be wasting her talents showing herself off to the public and was more at home in the world of finance that provided her with huge and regular remuneration.”

“Sounds as if you were smitten by her? I’m jealous!” remarked Andrea.

“I must say I was, in an unrealistic sort of way. You know when you are introduced to a Royal celebrity. By the time we reached Tamila’s apartment she had put me at my ease and I was more comfortable in her presence. I introduced her to Tamila, who as you know is quite a beauty herself, and suddenly the spell broke and we chatted away comfortably. I asked if she knew the effect she had on people around her? She answered by saying she knew and used it to advantage. She knew the men immediately undressed her in their dirty minds and that’s why she always wore clean underwear!”

“She sounds a character. So, she sold you her bank?” asked Andrea.

“Tamila quizzed her mercilessly until she was satisfied that there was some mileage in changing banks or at least giving them some of our revenues. She convinced Tamila that we should give her all our business. I stayed out of the discussion thinking Tamila had a more objective opinion since I was still star struck.”

“I must meet this lady!” stated Andrea.

“Oh, you will at our next gig. Tamila not only invited her but got her to join Chris’s flamenco class. I can only dream of seeing those two on stage doing a sexy dance,” said Alex putting on a false leer.

“Are you dating her Alex?” asked Andrea.

“Well, she asked me out if that’s dating; a dinner date at some posh restaurant that’s going to be lost on me. But I couldn’t refuse, could I?”

“I suppose not since you are so infatuated with her. This is going on record since this is the first time I know that you have shown real passion for a lady and expressed it. Where is this going to end Alex?”

“Well, the day ended very nicely thank you Andrea. Tamila raised the subject of the Brixton Market Hall and Keny insisted on me taking her to see it. I told her it was a bit too filthy and dirty for her in her smart outfit. She just said it would clean up and she wasn’t just a delicate flower. It was gloomy and a total mess inside and our torches hardly reached the roof. She insisted on seeing the glorious dome we had talked about so I guided her up to the ladder that reached the roof. She just hitched up her pencil skirt up to above her stocking tops and started to climb in her heels. She even said she wasn’t too bothered by my up-skirting. On reaching the top I told her to push open the trap door which was counter balanced. She pushed too hard and the door slammed open and she was about to slip. I put my hand out and caught her by her inner thigh, ups! There was a slight pause and she climbed out into the bright sunshine with a glorious view of London. Instead of admiring the sights she hitched her skirt higher, slipped down her lacy knickers, leant over, holding onto the filthy structural ribs and told me to get on with it! What could a man do but comply?”

“Wow, that’s almost unbelievable; or is that just your over vivid imagination Alex?” asked Andrea with an incredulous look on her face.

“True, after we had finished, she cleaned he hands covered in pigeon shit, grime and tar, with wet-wipes, tidied herself up and we continued the tour of the dome and enjoyed the splendid view from there.”

“So how did she get down?” asked Andrea.

“Easy she took off her pencil skirt, her heels, flung them to me and just clambered down; I followed no problem.”

“So have you arranged another meeting or date with her?”

“I would have been daft not to!”

“So, you are going to be loyal now and abandon us girls to celibacy?”

“Oh, I doubt that. I did tell her and she wasn’t bothered.”

“Thank God for that. I wasn’t going to miss my night of passion with you. Instead of a restaurant I have some delicious tapas for us tonight, so let’s close and go back to my apartment. All that has got my ardour up, come on Alex, get a move on, don’t dawdle.”

Next day he got a call from Mr. Partinger Jnr. “Partridge here, has my Kendall been to see you. What a girl; my secret weapon! I bet you swooned in her presence! I still can’t get over her. I took the job here at Rentons to be away from the sight of her. Too distracting old chap.”

“Yes, she’s been and done her duty,” answered Alex, “All signed and delivered.”

“Good, the Bank likes young entrepreneurs and you fit that perfectly. She did tell me that you had a strange financial system working and after Keny explained it on the phone, I could see the merits though not tax efficient,” stated Partridge in a plumy voice.

“It suits me and gives me full flexibility,” answered Alex.

“You are quite a visionary, supplying us first class windows, bamboo doors and superb concrete panels. We don’t normally get such co-operation from our building fraternity. It’s much appreciated. Now Stasiek tells me you are constructing a plant that turns pure shit into gold, is that right?”

“Well yes but the gold is clean water and power,”

“That’s interesting my man. Can you spend a little time to explain this process to an ignoramus like me?” asked Partinger with a chuckle.

“If you wish. The simple version is that I convert domestic shit and dirty water into steam and dry fuel. The steam passes through a filter then a condenser and hey presto you have clean drinking water. The dried stuff, burns and heats a boiler, the steam powers a turbine to generate electricity and the hot steam is reused to dry the shit for fuel.”

“Thanks for that concise description. Where did you get the idea?” asked Partridge.

“Initially from YouTube and I followed it up. The company wants to start a pilot plant in the UK,” answered Alex. “They are giving me preferential terms. All my buildings are powered by electricity. I’ve done away with gas as being a pollutant so I have invested in solar, heat pumps and converting sewage plus effluent from waste disposal macerators.”

“Very noble of you Alex. We do something similar in our equestrian centre in Oxfordshire but I don’t think it’s quite to your level. Can I send a team to study your installation for ideas that we can employ?” asked Partridge.

“I have no problem with that. I only wish that the local Council were more forward thinking on that front,” stated Alex. “I’m afraid I have an appointment at a Council Chamber in a few minutes so I’ll have to close this call.”

“Sorry for keeping you, we shall have to meet. Bye!”

Chapter 18

Having got a message that the Headmistress from the local school would like him to visit, he strolled up Wade Street, chatting to people on the way, as he made his way to the Primary School.

“Hi Gloria, how are you?” asked Alex as he strolled into her office.

“Good, good, everything is fine,” she answered. “I’m glad you have popped in. You may already know that we are currently turning many needy people away from our lunches because we are so short of space. I feel awful about it and your Committee doesn’t seem to want to help.”

“I don’t know about that. It hasn’t come up as far as I know. Have you got a solution?” asked Alex rather concerned.

“Well, you know the courtyard out there with the unfinished sports hall, I keep requesting the appropriate department to come and complete the job. It’s been like that ever since I arrived five years ago and my school numbers have doubled in that time.”

“Well, I expect the budget for that was spent years ago and I know it is almost impossible to raise a new one without jumping through the hoop,” replied Alex as he tapped a number into his phone and asked Ron to come over to the school. “Let’s go and have a look Gloria.”

“The rusty steel ribs are a constant reminder that we could do with a sports hall to use as a winter playground and large dining room, we could then accommodate double the amount of the poor homeless. Since our Frenchman Boran, now supplies us with so much fresh food and we can now safely store it, I hate any going to waste.”

“Ah here comes Ron, he may have some ideas,” stated Alex as Ron drove up in his van. “Glad you could make it Ron. Gloria here has a problem with this unfinished sports hall, any thoughts?”

“Hi, Gloria, when we finished the two classrooms for you we found a stack of steel roof sheeting which we had to move. Is it still there?” asked Ron.

“Yes, as far as I know,” said Gloria pointing to the other side of the buildings. “You used up all the bricks for our splendid fence if you remember.”

“Yes, yes, these sheets are no good, rusty and no insulation. You need new floor, you need connecting corridor to hall,” stated Ron, rubbing his chin in thought. “I will think. You need new floor, roof, windows and insulated walls. Boys will come and do it for nothing but you pay for materials.”

“That’s very good of you Ron,” answered Gloria. “Problem is that the Council has no money.”

“Don’t worry about that Gloria, I’ll fund it and put the bill in to then Council as usual. Maybe someday they might even pay their debt. It is recognised how well you have turned the school round. You had a very pleasing report from Ofsted,” stated Alex.

“Yes and the Education Department wants to reduce my specialist teachers which were brought in to turn the school around. It will be a disaster again if we have a flock of new inexperienced teachers.”

“Don’t worry Gloria, my Committee will not allow that. Now we will say our goodbyes Gloria and Ron will drive me back to his new site and we will thrash out your problem,” said Alex as they shook hands and walked back to the car park.

Jesus and Chris got involved with the design which featured a massive improvement for the school but also added more cost. Jesus argued that it would pay off in the long run and short-term planning should not be on the agenda. The original plan of ten years ago was modified to current day standards with proper insulation, heating and natural lighting. Ron and Alex pondered over the ways of reducing costs. Ron suggested they use specially designed Bio Fabricated panels which would be half covered with the existing sheeting on site, painted and the rest clad in decorative wood. This would speed up the construction.

Two months later the building was completed with only the outside to be clad. The existing kitchen was enlarged into the new connecting building and the existing dining area converted to a classroom now that the sports hall could be utilised. Double number of elderly, homeless and helpless could be fully catered for. Alex sent in the bill knowing that it would never be honoured.

Five weeks later after the multi-use building was completed, the official opening ceremony was held. This was organised by Chris into three parts: the VIP’s could come early and view the splendid new facilities and watch the children as they ate their lunch. The second part was the official speeches given by the local MP and various Council dignitaries plus the cutting of the tape. Kendall would then award certificates to the generous donors that she had encouraged to give over seventy thousand pounds to the project and held up a blank certificate to embarrass the Council who hadn’t contributed a bent farthing. She handed awards to other deserving staff including the school chef Sylvia, the Head Teacher Gloria who had worked wonders with her children, Danny, one of my social tenants who worked tirelessly at the school for the last six months, to Boran for procuring the fresh food for the school plus many more deserving cases. Fortunately, Keny disappeared quickly to help in the kitchen to avoid the distraction.

This was followed by a lavish buffet lunch served by the older children, all funded by Alex. The entertainment comprised the school band helped along by Alex on the piano and Jesus on the guitar. Then it was the turn of the choir to show off and they sang a number of ditties in Spanish, Chinese, French, Polish and an African language, demonstrating the range of immigrants at the school. The French song was a risqué version of Frère Jacque taught by the resident butcher Boran from Marseilles. Fortunately, few understood the words.

The regular elderly locals plus a large number of homeless and down and outs, plus Ron’s workmen were sat down at trestle tables, benches and provided with a sumptuous lunch served by the dignitaries whom in turn were supervised strictly by the older school children. Each got a thick vegetable soup, or more rightly a nourishing stew, with fresh baked bun, beef dinner with full range of trimmings followed by a tasty bread and butter pudding. Each person got a can of beer to go with their meal which was a welcome treat for some. The dignitaries, probably for the first time, came in close contact with the needy elderly and the desperate homeless.

Gloria swanned around rightly proud of her achievement. She asked Alex to provide some music on the piano to provide some entertainment to the proceedings. Jesus quickly joined with his guitar followed by Chris and Tamila who sang with Alex as a trio. Not to be out done, Kendall appeared in her piny and catering hat looking delectable as usual, stopped the proceedings at the tables as all looked on in astonishment. Boran the butcher, totally infatuated by Kendall made a quick appearance with his bloody apron and provided a welcome baritone to the group.

Gloria disappeared and quickly reappeared with song sheets that had been used at the previous year’s Christmas party and commandeered Head Chef Sylvia, Shirley, her mate Kate and Danny from the kitchens plus a teacher of the class presently serving and divided the group into a four part Barber Shop choir. Being a former music teacher she had no problem directing the four part singing in harmony, using her hands to ensure the all were on the right note. Even the hungry homeless slowed the eating and joined the audience listening and gawping. After half a dozen short songs Gloria sent them off back to their posts leaving only Alex and Jesus to continue. The main applause came from the dignitaries who appreciated the impromptu entertainment. The hungry homeless were glad to get back to their food.

After all the guests had left, the kitchen staff with the help of Ron, Alex, Kendall, Tamila, Chris and Jesus cleared away the hall, stacked the tables and chairs, swept the floor and ensured that all was tidy. The Kitchen staff went back to their duties and Alex asked his staff to stay behind. They set up a table and benches whilst Kendall disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a tray of left over goodies plus cans of beer brought out by Boran plus a bottle of water for Alex. Gloria was asked to join them.

“First of all I want to thank you all for your efforts for the school,” said Alex, “It helped to sweeten the pill with our dignitaries. I’d like to thank Kendall especially for raising so much funding from the local business community. It paid for a great deal of our costs. You may have noticed that there were a couple of reporters amongst the guests who hopefully will provide more publicity for the school and maybe Kendall can sweet talk more donors to contribute to this good cause.”

“It’s me that should be thanking you all,” interjected Gloria.

“No, no Gloria, your appreciation is accepted but it’s your job to improve the school and the wellbeing of the pupils there,” stated Alex. “I am frequently embarrassed by the lack of money provided by our Council for benefit of the poor and helpless. I chair the Housing and Education Committees and to allocate funds for worthwhile causes is so difficult. There is too much politics behind the distribution. I hope that our guests observed and felt how rewarding it is to actually be here, see and help these unfortunates. Now let’s eat up the goodies on offer here and I’d like your opinion on other business matters. Do stay Gloria and add to the pot of ideas.”

“I’ve been asked by Alex to review the work we are doing on the Wade Park estate,” stated Jesus. “We have two high rise blocks going up and they are not the prettiest thing on the planet. I’m looking for ideas to make them look better and more attractive.”

“Well, the attractive fencing is a worthy improvement already,” added Gloria.

“We are looking at ways we could improve the outside of the buildings without cladding them which is expensive,” added Chris. “Yes Ron.”

“Alex wants South sides to be covered with solar panels to make much electricity. Panels black and ugly! You get coloured panels Alex. I see these on King’s Road.”

“Good idea Ron. We put long strips down between the windows,” replied Alex. “The colouring may detract from their efficiency but you are right Ron, they are ugly things.”

“I’ve also seen these on King’s Road Alex and they are green,” said Chris. “If we have them made in dark blue or purple then their efficiency won’t deteriorate that much.”

“OK that’s one side, what about the other three?” questioned Alex.

“Why don’t you just paint a scene of animals or something else more interesting,” said Gloria. “something eye catching!”

“Good idea,” answered Kendall, “The height of the buildings lends them for something tall like ostriches or even giraffes.”

“Brilliant Kendall!” uttered Chris, “We have wild animal scenes, giraffes, ostriches, maybe zebras but we can’t over do it.”

“OK we have two more sides to cover. Any ideas?” asked Alex. “Simpler the better.”

“Well, if you are bringing wildlife into the Park why not some culture?” answered Gloria. “I don’t mean paint a Mona Lisa but maybe a Rothko or Picasso or even a Banksy?”

“Those might be difficult with all the windows,” stated Jesus. “But why not something colourful but within straight black lines with squares and rectangles like a Mondrian?”

“Brilliant!” announced Alex. “Those can go on the two ends.”

“OK guys but how do you make them look good?” asked Kendall.

“Easy, for the wildlife scenes we get Ronnie to project them as templates onto the walls like he does so well at our gigs on those strips of screen material and the painters will just follow the projected outline” stated Alex looking pleased. “That solves that problem!”

“Now who is going to get to clamber up or abseil down to paint these things on the walls?” asked Kendall.

“That’s easy Kendall,” stated Ron. “We put you in gantry with pot of paint, big brush, as used by window cleaners.” This brought on laughter around the table plus nods of agreement.

“OK guys you know what to do. Chris you project manage it and ensure that you get a big brush for Kendall,” said Alex as more laughter erupted. “We will close there and it remains for me to thank you all for your contributions. Right let’s clean up here and get back to work. Kendall can I have a word with you. Let’s meet at Tamila’s she may want to join in.”

Chapter 19

Kendall discarded her pinny and white hat, put on a short beige trench coat which made her even more beautiful and stylish. With Tamila they walked down Wade Street to Tamila’s flat as heads turned and curtains twitched.

“I think you would have the same effect on people if you wore sack cloth and ashes,” stated Alex as they arrived at Tamila’s front door.

“I can’t help it Alex,” answered Kendall. “Tamila has the same effect on people don’t you think?”

“True but you are a notch up. Hey Tamila, have you a full burkha that she could borrow? She could pad it out with cushions to hide her figure.”

“Nah! She just looks great as she is. Brings a sense of brightness wherever she goes,” said Tamila with a smile as she opened her front door and ushered them in. “Now what is so urgent Alex or do you just want us to abuse your body?”

“That can wait a bit,” answered Alex with a smile. “I just want to discuss my huge mortgages and find ways of reducing the payments and the overall costs. Our cash flow is getting a battering at the moment; any thoughts from you Keny? What about these ‘Off-set mortgages,’ would they work for me?”

“Well, I have looked at your accounts for the last few years and noticed a pattern. You have regular income from rents and regular out goings with wages then big bills for materials. You have huge sums in and out. If you allow me to put all of your mortgages under my roof then the off-set would work and save you quite a bit,” stated Kendall as she set about making coffee and searching in the cupboard for biscuits. “I’ll set you up on ‘interest only’ to minimise your outgoings and we will remortgage every seven years on similar terms. OK?”

“That will solve our problem of cash flow but won’t the bank charge enormous fees when we are in the red?” asked Tamila as she got Alex a bottle of water from the fridge.

“No, we would set a limit and not allow you to cross that so no charges,” answered Kendall as she sat on the sofa with a mug of coffee in one hand and a plate of biscuits in the other. “Hang on a minute, I’m not giving you the best advice here Alex. With all the millions you have tied up in equity comprising property I should be advising you to do what all millionaires of your standing do.”

“What’s that,” asked Alex, “Take my money to the Bahamas?”

“No, that’s not necessary for you but you should sell all your holdings to a Leasing Company for lots of ready cash for future investment and pay them a monthly rent. I’ll check that out for you,” said Kendall as she made a quick note on her mobile.  “Now Tamila you have an account with regular income called ‘In Trader,’ can you tell me where that income comes from?”

“Over to you Alex, you can tell her the sordid tale,” answered Tamila as she sat at her desk and Kendall looked quizzically at Alex.

“Hey, nothing sordid about that money. No, it’s a bit of a flutter on the stock market, daily trading,” answered Alex as he sat on an armchair and opened his plastic bottle.

“What do you mean Alex. You seem to put aside a tidy sum of money away each week,” answered Kendall indicating with her hand that she expected a full explanation. Who can resist a dainty hand like that?

“Ronnie and I do Day Trading across five world stock exchanges daily,” answered Alex.

“Come on I need more info than that Alex. How much do you invest, which exchanges and I can’t see you poring over a computer screen for hours each day without getting such high returns?” asked Kendall.

“No, I just sit on my hands and let the computer do it for me. If you want more information then go and see Ronnie who will explain our system but don’t stress him out, he’s highly impressionable and totally in awe of you.”

“I’ll go easy on him but tell me how much you invest to get such good returns?” asked Kendall pressing him.

“Well only ten grand each but it’s leveraged fourfold by the broker and we play five markets a day.”

“Wow, can I join your consortium? And why isn’t Tamila in this syndicate?”

“I can’t afford to risk that much money. As Alex has explained to me you have to be prepared to lose four times that if things turn bad,” said Tamila. “He’s willing to take the risk. I keep telling him that if it’s so good then why not invest more!”

“Tamila’s right, we could lose our shirt and our system isn’t full proof, but we bet on certain winners only. Ronnie can explain,” said Alex. “Now can we change the subject? I brought you both together to discuss the Market Building.”

“Oh, how is that doing? Have you started clearing it out since I last saw it?” asked Kendall.

“Oh yes, I got some contractors in to clear the rubbish out, power wash the dome, walls and floor. Everything has come up better than expected,” said Alex taking a drink. “The tar covering the glass roof has been peeled off and we now have glorious sunshine lighting the place up. Ron’s men have removed the rickety balconies and stored the iron pillars or stanchions for later use. They have also constructed a stage at the back from the timber found on site. Now this is where you two ladies come in.”

“I was waiting for that moment Alex,” said Kendall, “Now what do you expect from us then?”

“We need lots of money to renovate the building and I’d like you Keny to lead the charge on fund raising which you did so well for the school and the second thing concerns both of you,” said Alex looking fixedly at Kendall. “We are arranging a gig in the Market hall in a couple of weeks’ time and since it will hold about fifteen hundred, three times of our normal venue, we need more publicity to fill the place and make bigger profit.”

“What you want us to hand out fliers around London?” asked Tamila.

“No, I want you two to join me and Chris on stage. I’ve heard you both sing and both can hold a tune plus you both will add glamour to the show. I need you on the publicity material and on our website. Please say yes, it will give the gig a boost,” stated Alex looking to Kendall and Tamila for an answer.

“What do you mean by publicity material,” answered Tamila. “I’m not posing in skimpy clothes and unimaginable poses!”

“Well, that’s an idea but no, the crowd we attract are mainly into Country Music, Spanish, Cuban so a nice Western outfit, boots and Stetson are more on the cards,” replied Alex with a grin, “Though the former we can do in private!”

“In your dreams Jose!” stated Kendall, “and where do we get this gear?”

“There are plenty of costume hire places that Chris knows and I’ll pay for that out of the proceeds, plus as part of the entertainment you will get a share of the profits. Since hopefully we get a bigger crowd and we don’t pay for the venue or the bar you should get a handsome payout.”

“I’m not sure I need paying,” remarked Kendall.

“Suit yourself but that’s normal. Our expenses should be low and income quite high from ticket sales, bar and food concessionaires. Ron will provide the bouncers and bar staff and they’ll be paid. Are you girls in?” They looked at each other and nodded in agreement. “Brilliant, I’ll get Chris to make the arrangements and book the photographer. I need to shoot; I have my monthly appointment with Andrea where she searches my mind for clues then abuses my body. Bye!”

Chapter 20

“Hi Andrea, you’re looking especially glamorous today?” remarked Alex as he plonked himself down in his usual armchair.

“We are going clubbing tonight to expose you to more people of your own kind and maybe someone might recognise this handsome chap,” answered Andrea as she placed a fancy bag on the desk. “I’ve bought you a present. Here look inside.”

“Hey, it’s a jacket just like mine,” said Alex in surprise as he pulled out a brand new denim jacket similar to the one he was wearing.

“Yours has seen the days so I bought you a new one,” said Andrea. “Go on, try it on for size,” as Alex slung his jacket onto a chair and tried the new one on. “Oh good it fits and it has extra pockets inside for all the paraphernalia that you carry about. Now Councillor Turner you look smart.”

“Well thanks, I did have that one cleaned regularly and Daisy mended the pockets but this feels good. Thanks Andrea, much appreciated.”

“Now empty the pockets of the old one and I shall bin it! Knowing you, you would probably carry on wearing it,” stated Andrea and showed him to his seat. “Now tell me of anything significant that has happened to you this last month?”

“Not anything significant in discovering my former self but my empire is expanding at a pace. We have reached a stage when we can hold a gig in the Market Hall,” stated Alex. “It’s in two weeks’ time and we have had permission from the Council to accommodate fifteen hundred punters.”

“Wow, that’s three times of your usual venue, isn’t it?” answered Andrea.

“It is and we may have a problem filling it. Can I ask you to buy some tickets and bring all of your employees along? You can have preferential tickets with five quid off and a free drink included. Plus, you will meet our luscious Kendall who is performing with me on stage.”

“I hope you mean singing!” laughed Andrea.

“Yes, that may come later. Ron’s doing the security and bar and there will be a variety of food stalls. All the profits for this gig will go to the market renovation fund,” said Alex stuffing his personal items into his new pockets.

“Definitely, sign me up for say thirty or so tickets, I’ll get all my staff and their better halves plus some friends to come,” answered Andrea. “Now explain to me what your vision is for this hall?”

“Great! Well, I shall uncover the frontage to show off its original glory. The tatty doors will be replaced with magnificent double doors in bamboo which will lead into a vestibule, screened off by smoked glass doors with a clear glass roof so that you instantly get a view of our fabulous dome which will be lit up.”

“That sounds spectacular, do go on,” encouraged Andrea.

“The balconies will be enlarged so we can have catering establishments there plus tables overlooking the hall. There will also be a ring of catering on the ground creating another food hall which will be open to the public all day. In the centre there will be a kind of VIP dining area, screen off and served by waiters. Three evenings a week we will provide concerts with a resident band plus various acts as we do in our gigs. These evenings will be ticket only to reserve a table and orders via an app on the phone.”

“Wow, get your breath back. That sounds quite a venture,” stated Andrea. “How far have you got with the planning?”

“It’s beyond planning stage Andrea. The band is practising now and auditioning singers. I have contacted many of our old performers and signed them up for an evening. Ron’s men will run the security and bar for those evenings and be paid.”

“Won’t they miss their regular evening entertainment with the girls?”

“They will live! They will be fed and entertained in a different way,” answered Alex. “We have decided to rename the place in neon lights ‘Gran Mercado,’”

“Oh, that’s cool, I like that since most of your former crowd will still be Spanish.”

“Well, we couldn’t just shut them off since they have been so loyal.”

“Is this all your vision or did you get help?” asked Andrea.

“I suppose you are fishing into my background Andrea. No, most of it is my own vision and Chris added the details,” answered Alex. “Ronnie played a big part as usual in designing the lighting, sound and projection. We will have four huge plasma screens so that everyone will have a view of the stage. I seem to have an eye for design; must have come from my background.”

“Another point to add to my notes on you. I only hope someone recognises you at the club tonight or maybe I hope they won’t. I would miss these meetings. Now let’s go to my place first for some fun and eats then go onto the club,” said Andrea as she bundled up Alex’s old coat, ushered him out of her office, dumping his coat in the bin for her cleaners to dispose of. They caught a cab to Andrea’s luxury apartment.

Chapter 21

Shirley came rushing into Alex’s flat, without even knocking and breathlessly said, “Alex you have to help, we need your bed for a few nights!”

“What are you kicking me out?” answered Alex getting Shirley to sit down and handing her a glass of water which she gulped down.

“No, you can stay, you don’t use the bed, you sleep in the chair. We have a problem, more of a catastrophe. One of the local girls I know has been assaulted, raped and badly tortured. She won’t stay in hospital because the police want to constantly question her and she’s frightened for her life. She can’t let on who did it.”

“OK so what do you want me to do? Hide her away here?”

“More or less and look after her,” said Shirley wringing her hands in desperation.

“Where is she now?” asked Alex.

“Mandy is bringing her in a car. You will have to go and help her up. I don’t know if she can walk properly,” said Shirley as she pulled the cover and blanket off the bed to expose the sheet, then followed Alex down the stairs. Alex picked the girl up bodily from the backseat of the car and carried her upstairs to his room. With the help of Shirley, they gently laid her on the bed as the girl moaned with pain.

“Who is this girl?” asked Alex.

“She’s commonly called JoJo and she’s a gang leader selling drugs in the area,” replied Shirley. “Her assailants left her for dead and she is afraid that they will come after her if they suspect she has talked to the police. That’s why she discharged herself from the hospital. She is mortally afraid.”

“OK Shirley, you go and fetch Daisy. She was a former nurse in A&E so she can help. Tell her to bring her medical kit and some clean sheets plus a nighty. This hospital gown isn’t much use here,” ordered Alex as he tried to make the patient more comfortable.

Daisy came and immediately took over in a business-like fashion. She sent Shirley off to the chemists to buy adult incontinence pants plus various ointments and pills. Alex helped her to roll out a plastic sheet beneath the girl and Daisy stripped off the girl’s gown to inspect the damage. She was horrified by the heavy bruising and swelling.

“This girl should be in hospital!” Daisy said adamantly.

“I know, I know,” Shirley explained.

“I’ll try to do the best for her but if things don’t improve quickly then she’ll have to go back. I have some morphine from days past so I’ll give her an injection as a pain killer but I can’t get any more I’m afraid. OK help me to inspect her wounds to ensure we tackle the most dangerous first. They tidied her up in hospital but the journey here has opened some up. We must ensure that she doesn’t get infected. I’ll wash her down first. You can help Alex.”

“I can hardly look at her. It looks as if they have ripped all her body rings off her. The doctors have stitched her up as best as they could but she will be scarred for life, poor girl,” said Alex looking shocked and nervous.

“This is a car crash Alex but done by hooligans with no respect for life. I wish I could have a go at them when they are caught. They would be in pain for life if I got to them. Now just hold her gently while I swab her down, that’s it. Just look how they must have kicked her in the genital area. And the bastards tortured her with cigarette burns. This is horrific.”

Shirley came back and they dressed her with incontinence pants and a clean cotton nighty which hid most of her wounds.

“Alex, phone my hubby and tell him I won’t be back tonight. I shall stay here and see to her, the poor girl needs full time care,” stated Daisy as she turned to Shirley. “Now girl, I can’t get any more morphine legally so can you get me some heroin, she will need it as a pain killer.”

Fortunately, JoJo fell asleep with the effect of the morphine which must have deadened the pain. Daisy pulled out a half bottle of brandy from her first aid bag. She took a swig and passed it around. Even Alex took a swig to calm him down. Daisy pulled a chair up close to the bed to be close to her charge, Shirley sat on the floor looking despondent whilst Alex took a well-deserved power nap.

It was early next morning that JoJo woke and wondered where she was. Daisy, at her bed side placated her and told her not to move as she gently talked to her as she again inspected her wounds. JoJo started to moan as the morphine had worn off so Daisy injected her with a small dose of heroin that quickly settled her.

“This girl is a fighter,” announced Daisy. “She will pull through I reckon. All she needs now is a lot of rest and TLC. Alex, when she wakes up try and get her to drink something. There’s a box of juice that I’ve taken from the fridge and she should be able to drink with a straw. I’m going back home to get some more things and shall be back. Don’t worry Alex, she’ll pull through.”

It took another ten days before JoJo could sit up without any pain and be helped to the toilet. Alex tended to her during the night and Daisy would come when Alex was busy with other duties. Neither of them raised the matter of who performed the atrocities and JoJo offered no clues.

There was a knock at the door and JoJo shouted that the person was to go away. Instead, the door opened and in walked Kendall.

“And who are you?” asked Kendall looking in surprise at JoJo. “And what are you doing here? I’m supposed to meet Alex here.”

JoJo sat up in bed, pulled her sheets up to her chin and just stared as Kendall. “Is this a dream?” said JoJo rubbing her eyes. “Yer see, as on drugs and am not sure if I’m just seeing things. You are so beautiful, are you a model or an actress?”

“No, I’m Kendall and I’ve come to see Alex on banking business,” replied Kendall walking up to the bed. “What’s happened to you and why are you here?”

“A’s been in a car crash and I’m getting better here. Can’t go home. Alex just out shopping,” replied JoJo. “You’re just stunning, you must be on TV or something.”

“No, I’m just a boring banker and happy in my career. You’ve got burn marks on your face and your lips and nose are torn. You’re definitely in a bad way,” said Kendall with concern as she sat on the edge of the bed looking at JoJo, inspecting what she could of her face. At that moment Alex strode in with a bag of shopping which he plonked on the kitchen top and greeted Kendall.

“Hi Keny, glad you could make it. I see you have been introduced to our Joleeen with three ‘es’ because her mother couldn’t spell,” said Alex with a grin, walking up to JoJo and gently putting a hand on her shoulder. “As you can see, she’s been through the wars and I’ve been assigned to look after her.”

“Hello Joleen, you look as if you have been assaulted rather than being involved in a car crash,” replied Kendall. “Who could have done this to you?”

“She’d rather not say but yes our poor JoJo was left for dead in the park, been to hospital and now found sanctuary here with me,” said Alex. “Daisy has been nursing her back to health and she is recovering rapidly. She’ll be on her feet soon. We don’t talk about the incident Keny.”

“OK but you must have suffered badly. Can I see your injuries?”

“They are getting better by the day,” said Alex. “She’s a strong lass our JoJo. Ah, here’s her Florence Nightingale, our Daisy who has been nursing her so well. Daisy meet Kendall my delightful banker.”

“Hello, pleased to meet you,” answered Daisy as she put down a bag of medical supplies on JoJo’s bed. “I’ve bought you a new nighty, more appropriate for a young girl than using mine. Whilst you are here Kendall can you help me change JoJo. Normally Alex helps me.”

“Certainly, just tell me what to do Daisy. I’ll just wash my hands,” said Kendall disappearing into Alex’s bathroom as Daisy sat JoJo up and gently slipped off her nighty over her head.

“Wow you have been badly mauled JoJo!” exclaimed Keny seeing all her bruising, tears and burns. “You must be in great pain.”

“Nagh, Daisy gives me drugs, am OK,” replied JoJo as Kendall examined her injuries closely.

“She needs some cosmetic surgery before these wounds completely heal up,” pronounced Kendall. “Has she got an appointment at the hospital?”

“She discharged herself before they could make one,” answered Alex.

“Then we must get her to a cosmetic surgeon immediately,” said Kendall with grave concern in her voice. “Don’t worry JoJo they’ll make you look as good as gold. Look at my face, I had a nose job and skiing scar removed from my face and you can’t tell now.”

“Ah don’t wanna go back there,” answered JoJo bursting into tears.

“Don’t worry JoJo, I’ll make an appointment with my surgeon in Harley Street, you will be safe there,” said Kendall getting her phone from her bag and searching for a contact. They overheard her telling someone that she had a severe and urgent case for them and that she would pay if necessary. She listened for a while then closed her phone and announced, “They can take you in today, JoJo. A car is coming for you in twenty minutes.”

“Alex, I don’t want to go, I’m scared,” said JoJo with more tears.

“Nothing to be scared about my dear,” said Alex in a soothing voice. “You certainly need urgent help in that direction. Kendall is right.”

“But... but it’s Harley Street, all posh like,”

“It’s just a hospital and Daisy will come with you to settle you in, won’t you Daisy,” answered Alex to placate her as Daisy nodded her head.

“Can as come back here afters?” asked JoJo still looking concerned.

“Of course, you can until you heal up properly and we can then discuss what you want to do. Here you can take my headphones and this old mobile and charger. You can listen to your music. We shall come and visit you regularly. Tell the surgeon to remove that tattoo on your face JoJo. It doesn’t improve your looks.”

“Now you two leave me to prepare JoJo for her next adventure,” said Daisy shooing them away from the bedside.

“Right Alex, what did you want to see me about?” asked Kendall as they both moved away.

“You know that I have concrete panels cast for me by a firm in Bedfordshire. Well, they are in financial trouble because a main customer has cancelled their contract and I can’t let them go under. I need to borrow some money to bail them out,” said Alex as Kendall sat down on a chair and pondered.

“Tell me more,”

“Well Philip the owner was approached by this development company with a contract for a large order of panels. They agreed a discounted price and Philip invested in machinery and personnel to fulfil the deal. This Director, a slimy git that I’ve had a run in before, wants a further twenty percent off or he will pull out.”

“I presume that suing him for breach of contract is out of the question?”

“It would take years through the courts and in the meantime, Philip would go bust and there go my panels,” answered Alex looking concerned.

“So, you are going to lend him monies to see him through the bad spell, is that it?” asked Kendall.

“In a nutshell. It would take him a while to get new business and that would take its toll.”

“This is what you should do Alex. You pay him in advance for the panels you are going to purchase from him and the Bank will provide you with the money as an investment in his business. There will obviously be a charge but you will get your panels,” replied Kendall.

“That’s good but I suspect something fishy here. This Kurt Rindersson has a history of dodgy dealings and this smacks of that,” said Alex pondering over the problem.

“OK, let me get in touch with him and tell him the Bank, not Philip will sue for breach of contract since we have invested heavily in this business. That should make them think twice.”

“That’s good Keny but you need to talk directly to the CEO rather than this Kurt. I bet the board don’t even know about this new deal put forward,” suggested Alex.

“Better still I’ll make an appointment to see this CEO and discover what is behind this issue.”

“Brilliant and if you can’t get to the bottom of this then no one can. Also see if you can sell them some luxury window frames and bamboo doors as part of the package. Tell them it’s part of the bank investment that you want to nurture.”

“So, you are turning me into your saleswoman now Alex? Get Tamila to send me the details ASAP. Ah here’s the car. How are we going to get JoJo downstairs?”

“I’ll carry her down and I think we may have solved my problem.”

Chapter 22

“Hi Alex, good to see you again,” greeted Andrea ushering him into her office. “We really enjoyed the gig thank you. Let us know when the next one is. And this Kendall, isn’t she striking, couldn’t take my eyes off her, a real beauty. Do sit down and I’ll get you some water.”

“Glad you enjoyed it. The gig was a sell-out which is encouraging and yes, Kendall is a corker, amazing looks and a good voice. She’s also a good banker. You know this problem and this guy Kurt that’s been in my hair for a while?” said Alex taking a pause with a drink. “She had an appointment with the CEO and discovered it was Kurt’s own initiative to demand more discount or cancel the order. They fired him on the spot and Kendall sold the company windows and doors to go with the panels to boot.”

“Sounds as if you should take her on your payroll Alex.”

“Nah! She’s far better off as my Banker,” said Alex as he made himself comfortable in his chair. “Now what can I tell you that’s new and possibly significant. Ah yes, I had to take in this girl that had been badly beaten, raped and left for dead. She’s recovered now and thanks to Kendall agreed to have cosmetic surgery.”

“You said that you had to take her in?” asked Andrea looking puzzled.

“JoJo couldn’t go home and I don’t use my bed so Shirley brought her over and Daisy and I nursed her back to health.”

“That’s very noble of you Alex and where is she now?” asked Andrea.

“She’s back with me recovering from intensive cosmetic surgery. Her whole genitalia had to be restructured and her face. The monsters beat her bad. But she is afraid to let on who it was. She is afraid to get the police involved.”

“You’re a good man Alex. This must come from your previous background. Have you had any recollections as yet?” asked Andrea.

“Not as yet but I seem to come to good decisions instinctively as if I had lots of previous experience. I’m only young and was good three years younger at the time of the accident. I’ve had my age checked at the hospital recently and they reckon I’m between twenty-five and twenty eight, no more.”

“I have sent another few pictures of you to the Met missing persons and to the papers to publish but I haven’t had any positive response yet,” said Andrea. “You are quite distinctive and easily recognisable. Maybe you were heavier in the past. I believe that you keep slim with the nervous energy you expound. Anything else significant happened?”

“Two weeks ago, there was a major crisis when I thought Ronnie and me had been robbed of ten thousand dollars each,” said Alex.

“That’s a bit drastic Alex. Was it to do with your Trading?” asked Andrea looking concerned.

“It was. Ronnie came rushing in telling me that our facilitator had gone bust and all of his clients had lost all of their investment,” explained Alex. “This guy sent out an Email saying his system had been hacked by some Russian outfit based in Iran and they had taken all the clients money from the bank. That sounded fishy to me because his bank doesn’t keep that much money, most of it is nested with the broker. Only our profits go back to the facilitator who transfers it our bank on a weekly basis.”

“Sounds complicated,” added Andrea.

“Sounds complicated but having sat Ronnie down and discussed the situation in detail I sent him off to hack into the facilitator’s accounts and get an updated Clients list,” explained Alex. “I then trawled the internet and found a private investigator, Tony Ward, working out of Washington DC who specialises in money fraud. He was a former the FBI agent. He took the case on.”

“How do you pay a person like that?” asked Andrea, “And how do you ensure he is any good?”

“It’s a risk. I checked his references and recent work. I sent him a thousand dollars for initial expenses and he will take a percentage of the money he recovers. Ronnie told me from the latest clients list that a tad short of fifty million dollars is missing. An insolvency company has been appointed to handle the bankruptcy case and they will have their own investigators I hope.”

“That’s a lot of money. What’s the latest news on this?”

“Ronnie’s done some hacking work and found that this facilitator, Hank Rogers, withdrew all the client’s cash from Chicago National and transferred it to a bank in the Bahamas, then he disappeared. Our agent is following the money and found that chunks of it were being transferred to other accounts in Houston, Texas. The recipients are all on the FBI criminal lists. Tony reckons that our Hank is into money laundering at a huge profit to himself.”

“How does that work and how did this Tony know all this?”

“Tony has contacts in the FBI who are also investigating these criminals. He explained that a transfer of monies from a Bahamas bank to one in Houston is kosher but likely these criminals are paying double in hard cash. So ten million in transfer translates to twenty in actual dollar notes.”

“What’s the use of all that money if he will find difficulty in spending it?” asked Andrea.

“Good question Andrea. Tony reckons that this Hank has planned to take this money to somewhere in Central America where fewer questions will be asked. The FBI is watching all flights and borders out of US for this Hank character.”

“Do you think they will find him? It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” stated Andrea.

“They struck lucky and found someone with Hank’s description booked on a plane to Nicaragua. Tony, who by now was in Houston jumped on the same plane and followed him which led him to a secure villa on the Northern coast. Hank must have planned all this ahead and bought his hideaway some time ago.”

“So has he been arrested yet?” asked Andrea.

“Tony said he wanted to find the money first before the arrest. Apparently, he learned from the locals that a container full of furniture and personal belongings had recently arrived and was still parked on his driveway. Tony and the police chief raided the house and tortured Hank to reveal the code on his safe. That contained two million dollars plus deeds for several properties in US and the one there. Hank wouldn’t reveal where the rest of the money was hidden so the Chief sent his men out in the community to find workers and builders who had done any jobs at the villa. They found that a builder had partitioned a cellar and instead of just plastering the walls as normal this Hank insisted on using sheets of plaster board. The police broke down the plaster board and found a hidden door behind which led to a small room filled with bags full of dollars.”

“So, they found the money, what happened next?”

“A bit gruesome according to Tony. The Chief struck a deal, gave Tony five million dollars in a couple of bags plus the deeds to the properties in the US. The Chief took five million for himself plus the deeds to the villa. Half of the rest would go to the local District and half back to US which seemed reasonable. He then stuffed Hank in a body bag and shot him through the head! Rough justice that avoided any lengthy trial and legal costs.”

“So you got your money back?” asked Andrea.

“The saga doesn’t end there Andrea. The Insolvency Company requested the clients to proffer their claims. Most inflated them so the Company took their costs and paid in full, what was left only to the truthful claimants’ and the rest got so many cents to the dollar of what was left.”

“So did you get all of your money back Alex?”

“Almost, less the cost to the legal people but the Saga doesn’t end there. Tony my investigator also got a hefty sum as a reward from the Company for tracking the cash and last week he came over to London with a bag of a million dollars for me and Ronnie to share. He said he had been very well remunerated for the work which had been easy since Hank hadn’t covered his tracks very well, we should get some extra for being quick to get on the case before it got cold.”

“So you are rich Alex and I hope you have given up on this risky trading.”

“Not rich Andrea but it’s gone a long way to pay off my debts and overdrafts. As to the trading we are carrying on but doing it ourselves without a facilitator. Kendall’s bank is holding the money and we are able to leverage it up to seven times the amount so our income is larger each week and even Kendall has invested in the scheme.”

“Wow, have you learned anything about yourself from this saga?” asked Andrea. “Anything about your former background?”

“I made some split-second decisions which proved fruitful. The speed at which we initiated the investigation helped to recover the money and some criminals in Houston are being arrested for questioning. I must have some experience or innate knowledge from the past to make important decisions like that.”

“Certainly, I think you must have been an important wheeler and dealer in your previous life Alex. Now I think we have exhausted the session and maybe we just contemplate what has happened and look for clues. Were you a police officer or detective in your past life?” mused Andrea. “I shall circulate your photo in the Police Gazette to see if anybody recognises you.”

“Do you know Andrea, I’m not sure I want to find out though I am curious,” concluded Alex. “What have you planned for me this evening apart from the usual at you flat?”

“We’ll have some fun and I will expose you to another crowd of people, hoping that someone might recognise you. Now this Trading that you are doing bothers me. You’ve heard of this Nav Sarao, a young autistic guy who made millions defrauding the markets and causing a worldwide crash. I just hope you are not into that kind of thing. I presume the shake of the head means you are on the straight and narrow.”

Chapter 23

The huge influx of dollars solved Alex’s cash flow problem but raised another issue of divesting himself and Ronnie of US Dollars. He couldn’t easily bank it and wasn’t sure if the authorities would look kindly on him and Ronnie accepting huge sums of doubtful cash from an unaccountable source. He solved the problem by paying his foreign workers in Dollars cash rather than Sterling. They preferred the dollar to the pound to send home.

With the additional cash in the bank Alex decided to concentrate on completing his smaller twelve story block and the Market Hall. Both would bring him a substantial and regular income in rents. The first block had an additional four stories added, all clad in glass, icing on the cake! The southern face was painted mauve and clad with strips of solar panels also in mauve instead of the usual black. The two short ends were painted in a Modigliani pattern of bright coloured panels separated by straight bold black lines. The piece de resistance was the main front which sported two huge giraffes against a pale tan background. Naturally the block became known as the Giraffe House. This imaginative artistic covering transformed the dull block into a work of art admired by all.

The workers transferred their living quarters to the new twenty story block which was only constructed as yet to the seventh floor. Between the two blocks was a wastewater and sewage plant which generated electricity and clean water for the two blocks. This water was piped on a separate conduit circuit for use in bathrooms and washing machines then recycled again with a huge reduction of charges for water supply and sewerage charges. The generated electricity from the plant and solar panels was sold at a handsome profit to the grid as Green Energy.

Also linking the two blocks was a two-story car park which functioned as a play area for the children. In the summer the children played in the open air of the top park and switched in the wet winters to the lower one. The entrance to both blocks was extended to house the Janitor and his family plus storage areas for the cleaners and maintenance men. In effect it would function as a gated community with limited access controlled by the Janitors. Residents would have to sign a pledge to uphold the rules on behaviour and control of visitors. Breaking of the rules would mean eviction. Alex deemed it important to improve the standing of the area which had been neglected and run down in the past leading to a mire of antisocial behaviour.

Specialist shop fitters were contracted to construct and fit out thirty or so food outlets in the Gran Mercado on two floors. The upper mezzanine floor had a balcony overlooking the hall and stage. He had primarily offered space to local restaurants and had no problem with the take up. Alex controlled the bar and sale of wines across the whole eating area. During the three performance evenings each week, orders would be placed and paid for on a specially designed app centrally and during the day and other evenings each food outlet arranged its own payment system for food.

The Hall had huge storage cellars beneath which were cleared out and Alex had one space converted into his own comfortable apartment, next to a large office space, thus freeing up his apartment to a paying tenant. Tamila had to employ three part time helpers with the growing administrative burden and acquired all this office space. An area was fenced off for Chris to store furniture for the new apartments. This left a huge area spare. Philip’s Bio-Chemist had a twin sister who also majored in Bio Chemistry and was hunting for suitable premises for a start-up vertical farm and micro greens business. The cellars were ideal.

Beryl set up shop with small office and workshop and started growing salads and fancy greens for the restaurant trade throughout London. Finding the travel wearisome from Bedford to Brixton, Beryl bought herself a camp bed and lived and worked in the cellar. Finding the camp bed uncomfortable she resorted to using Alex’s proper bed in his new cellar apartment since he didn’t use it and regularly enticed Alex to join her to keep her warm, was the excuse.

The Chairman of the Housing Committee of an adjoining Borough of Peckham, George Tattersall, approached Alex at a general meeting of London Councillors with an interesting proposal. George told Alex that his renovations were admired far and wide and he had been personally tasked to approach Alex for him to carry out a project in Peckham for the Council. Two adjoining buildings had become dilapidated and an eyesore. The public had demanded in no uncertain terms that ‘They’ should do something about it. One building was a former hotel where the owner had gone bankrupt and the Council had repossessed the building in lieu of unpaid Council Tax. The other building was used as a hostel for single women with children and its dilapidated condition no doubt assisted in the downfall of the Hotel.

Alex was shown the photographs and agreed that the places were unsightly and needed total renovation or even demolition. George pleaded with Alex to go and survey the buildings and check if they could be resurrected. He offered Alex very favourable terms to take both buildings off the Council’s books. Alex pondered over the problem and sent Jesus and Chris to check out the site. They came back with some interesting proposals. The structural engineer had passed the building as sound, so Jesus suggested a total renovation project of building extensions and converting the two buildings into one and two bed-roomed apartments. Alex was keen to keep the Hostel for women and sent him off to re-draw the plans.

With much to-ing and fro-ing, they finally decided on a suitable plan and sent it for costing plus a copy to George for his comments. The plan was to extend and convert the Hotel into a fully serviced Apartment Hotel and raise the hostel by six floors and they also increased the size of the individual apartments for the women. There would be an underground car park and a covered children’s play area at the back. George hinted that the plans would be passed on the nod.

Alex needed another project to maintain his workforce so together with Ron, Jesus, Tamila and Chris they decided to take it on but there happened a concerning issue with the hostel for the women. Ron sent in four of his workmen to take over two unoccupied rooms on the ground floor of the hostel to ensure the security of the site. Within a day the four were turfed out unceremoniously by a gang of Albanians. There seemed something untoward about the hostel so Alex contacted the Social Services and the police and was told that all was in order and the women there were receiving benefits as was usual.

Ron and Alex talked to the workmen who suggested that the Albanians were running a brothel there and the women were slaves. On further consultation with the Social Services Tamila discovered that the women received their benefits by post in the form of cheques that could easily be intercepted.

With the help of Ronnie, Alex set up a surveillance camera and they discovered that the women never went out nor the children who could be seen occasionally peering longingly out of the windows. Regular deliveries of take away food, mainly boxes of pizzas were received by an elderly buxom lady at the front door. During the day and evening a constant stream of men were seen entering the front door and leave within half an hour or less. Every two days the six Albanians would arrive and stay late into the evening.

This surveillance evidence was presented to the police who wanted to enter the hotel immediately but were persuaded to wait and catch the Albanian gang. Two days later and in the evening a large force of Metropolitan police entered the building, arrested the six Albanian men and one woman, finding twenty women of different nationalities plus a dozen children. On questioning they discovered that the women had been subject to trafficking and slavery into the sex trade. The children were Albanian orphans brought in to provide the women with official cover and to obtain additional State benefits.

The poor children were taken to official orphanages for proper processing and the women were released from their plight and offered passage back home. The Albanian gang were all incarcerated, to be deported back to a jail in their homeland. The punters who could be identified from the surveillance video were prosecuted and fined. The whole unseemly business ended on a sour note with a lot of incrimination for the Social system allowing such a dreadful thing to take place on their patch.

Alex sent in a gang of men to secure both buildings and set about the preparation for total renovation and rebuild. This was one of Alex’s least favourite projects but proved most profitable especially the Apartment Hotel which provided businessmen accommodation during the week whilst they worked in the City. The hostel continued to be a home for single women with children with better facilities and properly managed.

Chapter 24

“Come on in Councillor Turner the saviour of international women trafficking and abolitionary of slavery in Great Britain,” announced Andrea with a smirk as she invited Alex to take a seat. “I presume it was you on your white charger. It was splashed all over the front pages of the London Dailies.”

“I’m afraid so, though I left it to the Authorities to carry out the dirty work. I just admonished the Social Services for neglecting their duties,” answered Alex as he made himself comfortable.

“I hear on the grapevine that you are employing a farm girl in your dungeons and according to gossip you are screwing her regularly,” stated Andrea not looking very pleased. “You don’t seem to have and loyalty to your lady friends and you’re certainly not into long term relationships, are you?”

“I detected a bit of venom in that statement Andrea,” answered Alex looking fixedly at Andrea. “You obviously disapprove but you must know that I don’t instigate the screwing as you put it. I don’t go round bonking every female I meet. I don’t seem to have the need or desire for a long-term exclusive relationship. I don’t do dating as you call it but I admit that I enjoy the company of women. It seems to bother you Andrea. Maybe we should break off these sessions?”

“Sorry Alex, I’ve had a busy day and I must admit I was a bit jealous. Is this Beryl another gorgeous Kendall look alike?” asked Andrea as she settled down in an armchair opposite Alex.

“She’s attractive but not in the same league as Kendall. She just wanted to use my bed rather than her camp bed in her cramped office,” answered Alex. “I couldn’t refuse her since I don’t use it as you know.”

“Are you screwing that waif and stray you call JoJo?” asked Andrea.

“I don’t know where this is leading to Andrea but I couldn’t do that. She’s too young and vulnerable. I’m acting as her guardian.”

“Is she still living with you?” asked Andrea. “Is she still deporting herself in the nude for you or so I’ve heard from reliable sources?”

“She’s watched too many porn video’s that was good for her,” answered Alex. “I’ve since found her lodgings with a nice family down the street. During the day she helps at the school in the kitchens and listening to kids with reading difficulties.”

“But I hear she had skipped school for most of her life!”

“She has but being a local gangland celebrity she is loved by the children who look up to her and willing to read to be real close to their hero. I reckon JoJo is learning more than her readers.”

“What’s going to happen to her Alex?” asked Andrea. “What’s her future going to be? Not doing tricks on the street I hope or peddling drugs?”

“I’ve signed her up for college in September. Yeah, I know she hasn’t the qualifications but Ronnie has constructed the minimum requirements for her on her official records. She’s going to study Business Administration and Accountancy.”

“But the girl will surely fail,” stated Andrea in exasperation. “She’s had no education for goodness sake Alex. You’re leading her into failure!”

“Hang on Andrea, she’s a smart girl and has more experience of the world than most of her age. She’s a teenage adult with huge organisation and leadership skills. OK, OK, most of it learned in the wrong kind of environment but they will stand her in good stead. Ronnie’s got her working on a mathematics course on YouTube and she’s coping well.”

“I’m glad to hear it but I have my doubts!”

“Look Andrea, you are not in the mood for this today! Why don’t we go to the school tonight? My house band is rehearsing and JoJo is being auditioned. You will be able to chat to her and see for yourself what she is like,” said Alex rather crossly.

“So, you have inveigled her into your disreputable gigs? How is she going to study when she is performing?” asked Andrea.

“Well, she’ll be busy in the evenings rather than wandering the streets. Come on Andrea, I don’t like you in this mood. I want to show off my Giraffe House to you. It looks even better when it’s lit up in the evening,” stated Alex getting up and retrieving his shoulder bag and beckoning to Andrea to follow.

They joined a group of fifty people, families and youngsters admiring the spectacular tower block. The top four stories of the block, being all in glass cladding, a crown of glass, were lit up from the inside with an array of shimmering rainbow colours. The magnificent giraffe wall was lit up with strobe lighting which made the animals come to life. The Modigliani walls were lit up with normal flood lights and added style and culture to the building. Andrea especially admired the perimeter fencing made from scraps of metal which she hadn’t seen close up before.

Later they strolled over to the school hall where the resident band was rehearsing and saw JoJo standing in the corner listening and looking nervous. She spotted Alex and Andrea as they entered and rushed over giving Alex a bear hug and held his hand as he introduced her to Andrea. Chris and Jesus came in to practise their new number with the band. Eventually JoJo’s turn came to perform her song and Alex led her over to the bandmaster and invited Chris to join him and JoJo before the band to give moral support. They just swung to the music as backing singers and join in the chorus.

It was a very good attempt by JoJo and the bandmaster gave her some hints to improve her performance for the next rehearsal. Gloria the headmistress had come by and heard JoJo sing. She applauded and told JoJo she would give her some singing lessons during the school breaks. Alex invited Gloria and JoJo to join Andrea and him to an evening meal at the Gran Mercardo where they could chat, discuss JoJo’s performance and how she could improve on it. Andrea had an opportunity to study JoJo close up and was quite impressed by her answers and dedication to her studies.

After the meal Andrea and Alex walked JoJo back to her digs then caught a cab to Andrea’s flat. By now her mood had changed to her more attractive self.  In the cab Andrea quizzed him about his new project to totally renovate the Park Estate which was in a disgraceful state. Alex explained to her that the buildings would be completely remodelled. The long high walkways which were supposed to represent a street would be totally done away with since they were a social disaster and didn’t provide the street community life as expected. The buildings would be raised by two to three stories and lifts installed.

He also explained to her that there was alternative proposal, more costly, to build two more high rise blocks similar to the one she had seen. The existing blocks would be part demolished and some totally renovated to house the elderly and maybe a nursing home and hospice. That project was still in outline planning stage and awaiting consideration by the Council.

Chapter 25 Final Chapter.

“Hi Tamila, how are you? I haven’t seen you for a while,” asked Alex as he strolled into her office and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Good, I’ve been busy with the increasing admin load plus training my three extra ladies. They should be good,” answered Tamila as she ushered Alex into a chair and offered him a bottle of water from her fridge. “I miss you now since you don’t visit me at home so often now that we have proper office space here.”

“Oh sorry!” exclaimed Alex. “How are you managing in your new offices here?”

“Much improved since Ronnie installed the plasma screens that show us live feed of the street above and the interior of the Gran Mercado. It’s like being at street level rather than in a dingy cellar,” answered Tamila pulling a chair up next to Alex. “What brings you here, you’re usually doing your site rounds or on Council business?”

“Yes, busy, busy at the moment but come for some information about the Partinger’s and Renton Associates,” said Alex patting her knee. “I’ve been invited to their annual shindig in Mayfair and Partinger Junior is insistent I come. He wants to meet me in person!”

“Yeah, I know he wants to meet you. I arranged VIP evening tickets for upstairs but sods law struck. Both times you were called away on Council business. Shame but this Mayfair place is huge. I drove past there just to rubber neck,” said Tamila.

“I’m not into formal dinners and all that. I would feel stupid in a full suit never mind a tuxedo!” stated Alex as she put her hand over his. “Will they accept me as I am?”

“They are not as stuffy as you think but yes, they like dressing up but that shouldn’t worry you Alex,” said Tamila. “You have a casual persona which everyone that knows you expects. Even the fuddy-duddies at the Council accept you in your casual gear.”

“Now Partridge Jnr. Suggested I bring a partner so I was thinking of upsetting the apple cart by asking Ronnie but don’t worry I have decided to be straight and ask you if you would accompany me?”

“Wow! Like a shot Alex, I would kill to see inside that pile. Now you don’t want me to wear a hijab do you?” asked Tamila all excited.

“No, I think they are a modern and accepting lot,” answered Alex with a smile. “Tell me something about them.”

“Well, I was only with them a short time until you whisked me off. I used to meet the Senior Partinger and his wife Elizabeth when they came to the Equestrian centre in Oxfordshire. Elizabeth wasn’t too steady on her pins so I suggested that I take them around the estate in a buggy that I drove. They enjoyed that. They also loved to eat in the common restaurant rather than the on-site posh hotel. They loved the Eastern European fare on offer. They would arrive for a few days in an ancient Rolls Royce with their own Butler who drove. I got to know this guy a little but unfortunately he passed away. They probably have a replacement.”

“Have you met any of the others?” asked Alex.

“Only when they came riding. I met Stasiek and his wife Jadwiga. They are Polish and very nice. There was an attractive woman Amanda who ran the shops but she was always too busy to talk to. Her husband Eric worked for the Estate Agents side. I think he ran it. He was very nice. I never met the Renton brothers or their snooty mother or father. There’s a lot of dark history there which I never bottomed. No one would talk about it. Gerald is a Sir and the father is a Lord. That’s all I know.”

“Well, that’s a start. I’ll check with Chris, she might know more,” said Alex. “So you will come and support me Tamila?”

“Of course, I will on the condition that you come and stay with me tonight on the excuse of checking my outfit,” announced Tamila with a slight leer.

“I insist on sackcloth and ashes!” said Alex as he rose gave her a long kiss on the lips and departed with a wave.

They discussed a length whether Alex should take Tamila’s car or hire a cab. Alex insisted on her dinky car so that they could escape if needed and since he didn’t drink alcohol they would be safe on the roads. When the appointed evening arrived, Alex drove the car around Mayfair a few times to get their bearing and found a suitable parking space amongst the luxury autos and they strolled to the mansion to be there for the appointed hour of eight o’clock. The footman took their galoshes, top hat and cane and ushered them inside, handing them over to a uniformed butler who checked their invitation card.

They were asked to wait in line in the hall as a couple ahead were announced.

“Sir Reginald Taylor and Lady Maude Taylor,” stated the butler in a pompous voice as the couple moved forward into the throng of people chatting and drinking. Their turn came and they were requested to step forward and be formally introduced.

“Councillor Alex Turner and Miss Tamila Khan!” announced the butler as they stepped forward into the inner sanctum. Alex in his customary attire of denim jacket, new white T-shirt, newly laundered chinos and newly purchased black trainers. Beside him holding his arm was Tamila in a splendid aqua sari and her hair up, a handsome couple. They stood there smiling awkwardly as they took another pace forward.

The people in the gathering hushed to a deafening silence as they stared at the couple who had dared to enter into their inner sanctum! The silence was suddenly broken by a scream emanating from Elizabeth Partinger who let her glass of wine slip to the floor as she gathered her dress and rushed forward to greet the newcomers.

“Renton, Renton!” she screamed with tears running down her cheeks as she grabbed Alex in a bear hug, kissing his cheeks and repeating, “Renton, Renton, you have come back to us. You look so peaky. Have you been ill?” she asked still holding him firmly. The butler drew up a chair and managed to sit her down as she wept with apparent joy. Others crowded around Alex and Tamila, at a safe distance staring as if they had seen a ghost. A man took Alex’s hand and said, “Mr. Turner you are a spitting image of my late brother. Excuse Elizabeth she thought of Renton as her second son. Please, please come in and join us and I apologise for the fuss. We are all truly sorry for the strange welcome afforded you, please have a drink and join us. I will introduce you to everyone, they are all dying to meet you. Call me Rupert, everybody here does. I used to be keen on the bear stories and it’s stuck.” Rupert took Alex’s arm and expertly guided around the room introducing him. Most people shook his hand warmly but had to stare closely at his face as if in recognition.

Tamila, instead of sticking to Alex shot off to take care of Elizabeth who had been ushered out into an anteroom and seated in an armchair given and glass of water to revive her. Partinger Junior was there with her as he shooed people out. Taking the opportunity Tamila told them of Alex’s background in detail and suggested that they check out and compare Alex’s DNA which was available against one of the brothers before they came to any conclusions. Partinger Junior agreed that would be the best course of action and suggested that Alex and Tamila dispense with the dinner and slip away quietly. That’s exactly what they did.

“What do you think Tamila?” asked Alex as they drove off. “Is there any mileage in this or are we going up a dead end?”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up yet Alex. I have suggested that they check your DNA with that of one of the brothers before they conclude that you are really this Renton,” said Tamila. “Will this make any difference to your lifestyle Alex? I reckon you are more than happy with your new life though I am excited by the outcome. I think it would be great if you found the lost family of your own.”

It was a week later Alex was invited to a private meeting at the Savoy Hotel in the City with the Renton family and friends. He was accompanied by Andrea to corroborate his story. They were shown into a private room where they were introduced to the five brothers including Gerald by Partinger Jnr. and to friends including Jadzia and Stasiek, Amanda and Eric plus Linda, Loraine and Yolanda. Again, there was a deafening silence as they closely scrutinised Alex as he was being introduced. As they sat down around a large conference table Alex remained standing and made a statement.

“I feel embarrassed that I have caused you good people so much concern. In hindsight it was wrong of Tamila to divulge my background. It may appear that I am a charlatan eager to pick up some fortune but be assured that I am not interested in gaining any monetary advantage here. I have had a good life since my accident and I have total loss of memory, amnesia, from which I haven’t recovered. My Psychotherapist here Andrea will vouch for that. She has spent many hours trying to trigger my memory banks to no avail. I have personally given up on searching for my past and now just look to the future. I think the best thing here is that other than in a purely business capacity we part company and treat this as an unusual occurrence,” stated Alex and proceeded to push his chair back under the table to leave the room as Andrea stood to accompany him.

“Please, please, Mr. Alex Turner, don’t leave us yet until you hear what we have to say,” said Partinger Jnr. “We are gathered here because we are convinced that you are our long-lost friend and brother Renton. There are too many coincidences that we have discovered in the last week that lead us to this conclusion including the complete DNA match. I don’t think anyone carrying out a fraud would go that far. We have had a private investigator checking into your background post your accident and we all strongly believe that on that dreadful night there was so much chaos at the A&E that identities could have been swapped, lost or even mislaid. Please listen to Yolanda his long-term girlfriend who is meeting you for the first time.”

“My heart stopped when I saw you entering the room Alex,” said a beautiful lady at the far end of the table. “You are definitely our Renton as the DNA proves. Yes, you may be slimmer but you spent over a year in a coma and we understand that you have little appetite which explains it.”

“Thank you, Yolanda, for your contribution,” said Partinger, “I’d like Jadzia to make a statement. She knew Renton extremely well.”

“I can’t even call you Alex, I have to refer to you as Renton,” stated Jadzia almost in tears. “We lived together with Stasiek in a tiny basement flat, so I recognise all of Renton’s mannerisms, tone of voice, the movement of your hands even the rubbing of your brow when you are deep in thought. Now the investigator told us that you have a painting of mine that you move around with you as you change flats. It must be significant to you. I have seen a photo of it and it is an original. Can you tell me Renton how I know it is an original? There is a secret doodle that is missing from copies.”

“Yes, I must admit that I was instantly attracted to this painting,” said Alex. “You must be Jadwiga Komorowska the painter using your maiden name. I thought it was a good copy rather that an original. It hung above and behind my armchair most of the time and I used to view it occasionally looking at it by bending my head back so that it appeared upside down. Top right hand there was a misplaced mark or squiggle in the shape of a stylised rabbit is that what you were referring to?”

“Exactly,” stated Jadzia. “Only Renton knew of it and he also spotted that mark upside down. You must be our long-lost Renton and welcome back to our fold.”

“That more or less seals it!” stated Partinger. “Unless anyone wants to add to that we believe you must have been Renton in the past who suffered a road accident whilst jogging and taken by a passing police car to the hospital at the same time that lots of other injured people were arriving from that disastrous coach crash on the M1 motorway. Welcome back Renton. We now need to discuss how we bring you back into the family.”

“As I stated earlier, I am happy with my current life with good career prospects, wealth, health and happiness. I don’t want to or need to change that. My past connection with Renton Associates is history and I don’t want or need any part of it,” said Alex emphatically. “I will continue to do business with you and if anybody feels they need to reacquaint with me then that’s fine but it will like being new friends.”

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” stated Partinger. “You Renton, had a major stake holding in Renton Associates and left ostensibly without a will. This led to a quandary what to do with that money? Gerald here, Lord and Lady Renton claimed a substantial share of it which is rigorously disputed by the rest of the family and shareholders. There was no love lost between Gerald, Lord and Lady and the rest of us. There are many conspiracy theories abound that they were involved with your actual demise. Your sudden a reappearance solves the matter for us. You will hold onto your shareholding.”

“As I said before I do not require or want this share. I have no memory of any family dispute,” said Alex. “The simplest answer to your problem is if you put this money into a trust and give the dividend to charity, a charity that Renton supported. That’s what I would wish if I have a say in the matter. Put it to a vote in your next Board meeting.”

“That’s mighty generous of you Sir and I believe that Renton in the past would have wished the same,” said Stasiek with nodding of heads from many and thunderous look from Gerald. “From my passing knowledge of you Alex I would like to continue and develop our friendship and I’m sure that many here would concur. We all have wonderful memories of you in your former life.”

“Well said Stasiek,” stated Amanda. “We all lost someone dear to our hearts and I would love to be reacquainted with you. We have deeply missed you Renton. I can’t think of you as anyone else. I suggest that we hold another gathering as before on a much better footing. Would you agree to attend Alex?”

“I believe that I would but I would like to include the friends that I have made in the last few years,” said Alex. “Maybe you should arrange a more informal gathering at your equestrian venue in Oxfordshire.”

“What a good idea and you can give us a display of dressage that you are now famous for,” remarked Amanda with a chuckle.

“Andrea and I will leave you now with one request,” stated Alex. “You may consider me as Renton but please refer to me as Alex Turner.”

KONIEC