The Road to Redemption

by Stephen Morris

  He was becoming less and less interested at work. Both Maria and Rebecca had noticed. What was happening to him? He wasn’t eating well and starting to drink more and more at home each night. From two glasses to three then half a bottle. Sometimes even more.

  Audry was on to him. “You’re drinking far too much Hon,” she continually reminded him. God he was starting to hate that word Hon, it was really starting to grate on him.

  His mood towards Alice changed constantly. One moment he would be thinking of their passionate love making and her cries of ecstasy and the next that last cruel thing she had said to him

  “That's your problem isn’t it.”

  It certainly was his problem.

  He found he just couldn’t face the clients and manipulate them like he used to. He was passing more and more of his work over to Maria. What on earth was happening to him? Maria came into his office and sat in his visitor’s chair.

  “John what's eating you, you’re just not yourself lately?”

  He would love to have told her but he couldn’t. Maria was in her early 30’s and reasonably attractive. She dyed her hair jet black; to give her what she thought was the “smart real estate agent look”. He liked Maria a lot. She was a bit of a tough cookie, but you needed that in real estate. Her Italian heritage showed in her facial features and her legs, which were rather large around the calves, like a lot of Italian women.

  They had had a bit of a thing last Christmas. Well a bit of a fumble in the dark really. Everyone else had left and Maria had stayed back to help him clear up. Having had a few drinks, he had grabbed her up against the wall and had a bit of a pash and a grope. Although she had rather large breasts, he had found them to be a bit soft for his liking. Not at all firm and hard like Alice. Anyway, both he and Maria found there was not really a lot of passion between them, after all. It had not gone any further and neither of them had ever mentioned it again. They both pretended it had never happened.

  “I've had a few things on my mind Maria, but nothing serious,” he lied,

  “Just give me a bit of space at the moment. It will all work out soon.”

  This was saying don’t touch Maria and she knew to leave him alone.

  The days drifted on but still no sign of Alice or Susie.

  What had Alice done to him? He woke around 2 am one night and half awake half asleep reached for Alice, but it was Audry lying next to him. He went downstairs and had a scotch; he was now drinking in the middle of the night.

  “George and Mabel are coming over for lunch next Sunday,” Audry announced.

  “You mean George and Mildred,” he responded. “The outlaws.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call them that Hon.” There was that bloody Hon word again.

  “You know they’re nothing like that stupid couple on TV ”

  He could think of nothing worse. He called them George and Mildred after the 70’s British TV Comedy, where George was an idiot and Mildred had to keep making excuses for him. But Audry’s father George was far from being an idiot like the one on TV, as John had known for years. He was a real pompous arse and John hated him, right back from the early days, when he was a gardener and George had tried to stop Audry from marrying him.

  The dreaded day arrived, with a long buzz on the intercom at the front gate. It was George keeping his finger on the button, demanding to be let in. Up the driveway in his 7 series BMW. It was several years old, because he had taken over its lease when he retired, a number of years ago. Like John he kept his car immaculate. Up he came and parked right in the middle of the driveway, as if he owned it, rather than in the visitors spot. John couldn’t resist when he and Mabel came in,

  “How’s that old car of yours going George?” striking the first blow.

  “That's a 7 series John, top of the line, not the small one like your 3 series. They don’t make them like that any more.” There was no getting George. Whatever you said he would come back at you. Straight into the lounge room and George plonked himself on the lounge, right in the spot where John always sat.

  “How about a beer Jonno? Just a light one I’m driving.” Jonno, how he hated being called Jonno. It was George’s way of reminding him of his working class origins. He would have loved to respond by calling him Georgy Porgy, but of course he couldn’t.

  He got a can out of the bar fridge and tried to hand it to George.

  “In a glass if you don’t mind,” George said indignantly, “We’re not in the western suburbs now.”

  Mabel and Audry went of to the kitchen to prepare lunch while George ploughed on annoying John, in the living room.

  “Have you done anything about that superannuation yet, Jonno?”

  “You know I don’t believe in super George.”

  “Well you should Jonno. All you young people think about is, today. No planning for the future. What are you going to live on when you get to my age?”

  Here he goes again, thought John, sipping his beer and looking out the window towards Alice’s house.

  “When I was your age I had two funds going. How do you think Mabel and I can afford to go on expensive holidays each year? You know where we are going in two weeks time?

  “No,” mumbled John

  “We’re going on a luxury tour of Egypt, with a trip down the Nile, then on to Paris to stay in a luxury hotel, right next to the Louvre. Do you know how much a night at that hotel costs Johnny?”

  “No,” mumbled John again, but I bet you can’t wait to tell me, he thought.

  “$1000 a night, “ skited George. “Now where are you going to get that sort of money when you get to my age, if you don’t have superannuation?”

  “I don’t know George, you were in the industry that's why you are so keen on it.”

  He certainly had been in the industry, as a very successful Insurance Broker. I’ll bet he used to badger his clients so much they bought his insurance policies just to shut him up, John thought to himself.

  George held out his glass, as if to order another beer. John was getting angry now and tipped the rest of the can into the glass too quickly. It made a big frothy head on the beer.

  “John, when you pour a beer, tip the glass on its side so it doesn't’ froth like that.” Was there no end to this pompous arse, thought John?

  They went on verbally sparing for a while longer, with John continually looking out the window, towards Alice’s house.

  “ Is there something out there your looking at Jonno?” George wasn’t going to let him off the hook, not even for a second.

  Finally, Audry came and announced that lunch was ready. Thank god for that thought John.

  George got up and marched towards the dining room.

  “Bring that beer along for me will you, Jonno?” He ordered. John grudgingly picked up the beer and followed him. Of course George plonked himself right at the head of the table, where John normally sat and proceeded to dominate the conversation throughout lunch.

  “Get me another beer will you, Jonno? I can still have another one before I am over the limit.”

  John filled the glass and brought it over, Just as he was putting it down, he purposely tipped it over. The beer went all over George’s shirt and trousers. George stood up furious

  “You clumsy oaf John.” Hey, thought John, he’s finally using my correct name. Audry rushed to the kitchen to get a sponge and towel while Mabel tried to rub some of the beer off George. She came back muttering

  “And all over my table cloth and carpet too John.”

  Both women were competing over George to see who could be of greater service to him. They were all too busy to notice that John was standing back watching the whole show, with just the hint of a smile on his face.

  Chapter 11 A Business Project

  There was one thing at work John could not get out of. For sometime he had been working on a large deal with a long time business associate. His name was Graham. John had met him many years ago, at one of Audry’s up market parties. Graham was a p
rivate school boy, but John had always got along with him. He was not up himself, like a lot of the other private school boys and had always treated John with respect. In fact, like John he was a player, which was probably their common ground. That, plus the desire to make money, no matter how.

  About two years ago Graham had come to see John with a deal. He had gathered together a group of investors and was trying to consolidate a development site. Currently the site was owned by a number of small businesses. If Graham could buy them all out and own the whole site, of about 1.5 acres, he would be able to sell it to a developer. It would then be suitable to build high-rise apartments on it.

  It was to be a win win deal for everyone. They could afford to pay the current small business owners a premium for their land, then get a high rise unit developer, to pay a big price for the whole site. The developer would be able to spread the cost of the land, over each of the units in his block.

  Graham had formed a syndicate and had got some of his rich contacts to invest with him. For a share of the profits, he needed John to convince two remaining owners, to sell to the Syndicate. Without their land, the whole project would be doomed, as they were right in the middle of it. No developer would buy the site unless these two integral blocks were included.

  It was taking a long time to consolidate the site and two of Graham’s investors were getting itchy feet. He wanted a progress report. John needed to keep Graham calm and get some breathing space. He was getting close to a deal, but still needed more time.

  He arranged for Graham to come to the office and then took him to Alfredo’s for lunch. Nothing like a nice meal and a good wine to calm the nerves.

  Alfredo met them at the door,

  “So nice to see you again Mr. Mason and so soon. Beautiful lady you bring with you last time. Very high class.”

  “You make her sound like a prostitute, Alfredo.”

  “Oh no, Mr. Mason, you no understand. She like a princess, very beautiful.”

  “ Ah, so you liked her?”

  “Oh, very much but too much classy for me. Maybe for rich man like you?”

  Alfredo led them to their table.

  “What was that all about?” asked Graham intrigued. “Who was she?”

  “Oh, just a client,” lied John.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Graham with a knowing suspicious look in his eye.

  Graham had every reason to be suspicious, for he knew John very well. Both through their business deals and also privately.

  Graham came from a rich family. His father had been a very successful building contractor who had worked his way up from being a builder’s labourer, to owning one of the largest commercial building companies in the State. He was a self made man, who was one of the rich guys, that John had got along well with, in his gardening days. As with many self-made men, he wanted his son to have a better life than he had, having to struggle all the way up. He wanted his son to have the privileges he never had, having to work 16 hour days and fight employees, unions etc. So, he had sent Graham to private school, to give him all the privileges he had missed out on.

  Graham however, rather than develop his father’s strong work ethic, had become a wheeler and dealer, rather than a hard worker like his father. His attitude was, why work your guts out 16 hours a day, when there are smarter ways to make money?

  Graham had married well. His wife was from a well-connected socialite family, with “traditional” money. If it could be known her family's fortune, had originally been founded by a street fighter, just like Graham’s father. However, they had become “sophisticated”, through generations of private schools and privilege.

  Graham had had a big wedding, with five bridesmaids and groomsmen. It had been all over the social pages. What wasn’t reported, was a very embarrassing moment at the wedding reception. Graham’s father had made a speech, to toast the bride and groom. In a room full of socialites, his working class origins had been all too blatantly obvious, as he had stumbled over his words.

  Like John’s wife Audry, Graham’s wife was not particularly interested in sex. Sex was only to have children and they had managed to have three of them. However like John, Graham was highly sexed. This had led him to lead a double life. He had a penthouse apartment, in an expensive inner city building, where he entertained on a regular basis, with a select list of invitees. John had been to a number of these “functions”.

  Graham had a mistress there whose job, in addition to meeting his love requirements, was to invite a bevy of beautiful women along to these functions. John was certain that some of them were really high-class call girls. But others were well-known models and party girls.

  The functions usually took on a familiar pattern. Early in the night it was an above board social function, with a bartender and waiters serving champagne and h’orderves. Later in the evening, the waiters and peripheral guests would leave. A few close associates, including John, and a number of girls would be left. They would all end up in the large spa on the balcony and anything would go. Graham was free with his mistress and often shared her with the other guests. John had been with her a number of times and was sure she had been a high-class call girl. However she was very discrete and he could not get any information out of her.

  So coming from this background, Graham was right on to John, when Alfredo had said, John had brought a beautiful woman to his restaurant.

  “I’m having a function on Friday night, perhaps you would like to bring your lady friend along?” probed Graham. He was intrigued to meet this woman.

  “She’s not a lady friend, she’s a client,” John persisted.

  “Why did you bring her here for lunch then?” Graham came back at him.

  “Graham, I bring a lot of my clients here, including you. Its no big deal,” said John, with a strong tone of irritation in his voice,

  “Now can we get down to talking business?”

  “OK,” said Graham giving up the quest for the present, “here is the situation.”

  He went on to outline how his father and his father-in-law were the main contributors to the Syndicate. However there were two other members. Both were from his father -in law’s golf club. They had contributed substantial sums and were now getting nervous. He wanted to know what was happening with the two small businesses, who were holding out from selling and also what feedback John had got from any developers, as to their interest in the site, once it had been consolidated.

  It occurred to John he was doing all the work, however without Graham’s access to the Syndicate money, there would be no project. John had not paid too much attention to maths at school, but he understood percentages and knew after all expenses and paying his Syndicate members, Graham was likely to make something like $1 million on the deal. John was on a fixed 10% of that. Yes, Graham knew how to make money without working too hard.

  “OK,” said John, “firstly I am working on the two who won’t sell.”

  He then explained how one of the small businesses was prepared to sell, but it was a deceased estate and the relatives were waiting for probate to come through. John expected this to happen in the next two weeks. The remaining business was a problem however, as it was right in the middle of the parcel of land.

  An old boy had been running a knife sharpening business there for 50 years. John had concluded there could be no way he was making any money from his business; there was never anyone in his shop. He was a widower and really ran the business as a hobby, to have customers come, so he would not get lonely. However, John had taken the time to sit down and talk with him and really get to know the old codger. He actually reminded John a bit of his father, being a working class man of the same vintage. No amount of money was going to make this old codger shift and he was not interested in having a more modern shop. However John, being strategic, had asked him during one of their discussions, what he would do if he won the lottery?

  “I don’t gamble, he had said, “ for every winner there are thousands of losers; not my cup of
tea.”

  However, John had persisted and found out that, if he had the money, he would help his daughter pay off her mortgage. This gave John an “in”. He had found the old codger’s weak spot.... his daughter. Also by visiting him regularly, John was gradually gaining his trust. One day when the old boy was talking wistfully about his daughter, John thought the time had come to pounce,

  “What about if you could stay here, but still have the money to help your daughter pay her mortgage off?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen,” said the old boy becoming irritated.