by T F Lince
“OK, sold at $72.43. It was still climbing, but it’s about done. Who cares about a few extra bucks?” He punched the figures into the spreadsheet. “OK, scores on the doors, boys and girls – £4.15 million placed at $1.78 and sold at $72.43…that’s 164 million, 414 thousand, 606 pounds and 74 pence.”
There was a big cheer. Dean added with a grin, “Oh, and less the twenty-five per cent to help bail me out with Dexter – thank you all for that. Our shared profit is just over £123 million. You can see your individual amounts on this spreadsheet. Enjoy your lives.”
Another big cheer went up.
Dean walked back into the kitchen. “I think they will want some champagne, Sarah.” Sarah already had the glasses out and was waiting for the nod. Dean walked out onto the lawn and took a seat near the patio, exhausted. As Jack joined him, they heard the first of many champagne corks flying for the sky with the customary pop.
“It all feels a bit wrong, Jack. Someone just lost their life and we took advantage of it. It doesn’t seem right to celebrate.”
Jack looked back at the kitchen where a couple more pops were greeted with a cheer.
“Hugo Hodgkinson was a dick, Yorkie, and everyone’s time is up at some point.”
“Yes, but I know where he is heading next and who he is going to meet along the way. And no one really deserves that, no matter how much of a dick he was. Has it been on the news yet?”
Jack thought better than to question Dean about what he meant. “No, not yet, but Jamaica news is not UK news. It might be on Bloomberg later. It’s probably best they don’t know what went on. I’m sure they will find out in the next couple of days. Anyway, it’s not your fault. Whoever told you must have had their reasons.”
Dean lifted his head. “You’re right, Jack. Let’s have a drink and then get rid of this lot. I feel like I have been given a chance of sorting my life out. I’ve got well over the fifty million needed for Dexter, and I reckon he will lose half of his staff. They probably don’t need to work there anymore.”
“Dexter’s alright, but he’s greedy. He stitched you up, Yorkie, don’t forget that. And you are one of the reasons his company is what it is today. He deserves everything coming his way.”
“Thanks, Jack, for being there for Sarah, Jodie and me.”
Jack gave Dean a hug.
“Come on, Yorkie, there’s some champers in there with your name on it.”
Chapter 42 – The Jigsaw is Complete
After the other traders had left, Jack and Dean entered the office. The trading board was still showing Howell Media; the price had stabilised at $55, so getting out of the trade at over $70 had been a result.
Dean changed the TV channel to Bloomberg. A breaking news banner was at the bottom of the screen.
Billionaire Hugo Hodgkinson has died in a helicopter crash. The presenter declared that the pictures were just in from the scene. Mr Hodgkinson had been piloting his helicopter to sign a deal with Howell Media. He never made it to the meeting, his helicopter hitting some overhead cables while attempting to land at a hotel in Jamaica. The presenter added that Mr Hodgkinson had died instantly. Howell Media’s shares had tumbled to just over a dollar and the deal had been seen as a bad thing by the markets. As news of the helicopter crash filtered through, the markets knew that the deal was off and the shares recovered to a year’s high before stabilising at around $50.
Dean and Jack watched and listened to the news anchor.
“In a statement, Mr Hodgkinson’s son Robert has asked that the family have time to grieve over what was a terrible accident. It is thought at this early stage that pilot error was to blame; the weather was fine and the helicopter had just been serviced.”
The presenter had some more breaking news delivered into his earpiece.
“And now we can go live to the crash scene and our reporter, Kenton Shaw. Kenton?”
“It’s still early, but what we know is that Mr Hodgkinson apparently had a falling out with his son before climbing into his helicopter and making the five minute journey to the Sea Breeze Hotel. You can see the crash site behind me. Mr Hodgkinson had been going to seal a merger deal with Howell Media. There had been lots of rumblings in the markets about this deal – it was thought that Astra Zing was going to get the better of it, with the customer base of Howell Media being the main motivation behind the acquisition.”
As the camera zoomed in on the crash site, Dean saw him.
“Pass me the remote, Jack.” He rewound the images on the TV and paused it. “Can you see him?”
“It’s just a tangled wreck, Yorkie. See who?”
A dark figure was walking into the crash site, his silver-topped cane tapping on the wreckage. Dean un-paused the picture as the camera zoomed in deeper. The reporter was saying that the fire crews had put out the fire and confirmed that Mr Hodgkinson had died at the scene. Dean watched the ambulance staff taking a body bag away, Death walking alongside the stretcher trolley.
“Sorry, Jack, I thought I saw someone.”
Sarah walked into the office. “Are you OK, you two?”
Dean took a last look at the screen before turning the TV off with the remote.
“Yes, fine thanks, Sarah.”
She handed them a glass of bubbly each. “Well done to you both. I guess we are in the clear with Dexter, now, Dean? Can we get on with our lives?” She gave him a kiss. “I’m so proud of you both. You won’t have to work again, Jack, and can retire for good.”
Jack gave her a hug.
“I won’t, thanks to Dean and you, Sarah. You can buy back your timeshare now, Yorkie.”
“Jack, I will transfer your funds tomorrow. Have you given me your bank details?”
“I emailed them earlier, Yorkie. Thanks again – I won’t pretend to know what happened, but I’m glad it did.”
It was 8pm when Jodie entered the kitchen.
“I went round Kyle’s after school. His mum just dropped me off. Dad, did everything go OK?”
“It could hardly have gone better, JoJo, now give your dad a kiss.”
“I knew it would be OK. Benjie told me.”
Dean thought about what Benjie had told him in the circus tent. “It’s the second tomorrow, isn’t it?”
Sarah knew where this was heading. Benjie was going to die in the night and Dean knew it. He even knew the time.
“Yes, it is, Dean.”
The mood dropped.
“Hey, it’s OK, he told me he was ready to go, and he’s going to see Bobo again. He’s looking forward to it. No sad faces, he wouldn’t want that.” Dean raised his glass. “To Benjie, the best clown I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.”
“To Benjie,” chorused Sarah and Jodie.
Dean felt like the jigsaw in his head was complete. He knew why he had been given a second chance and had taken it with both hands. He had a good life, he loved his wife and daughter, and some things were worth fighting for. The final piece was Death giving him the chance to climb back onto the ladder he’d fallen from so spectacularly six months earlier. Now he could make a difference for the good of the world. And he knew the very first thing he was going to do.
Dean Googled minibus companies and placed an order.
“I love you, Dean Harrison,” Sarah said when she saw the screen of his laptop.
“I love you too, Sarah. You’d better phone your dad and tell him the good news.”
“He was the first person I phoned. He’s already looking at the Racing Post for his new horse.”
Dean looked at her beautiful face. “The new Baby Doctor?”
Sarah smiled. “He’s thinking about calling it Whitby Trader.”
Dean had thoughtfulness etched all over his face. Sarah gave him a playful nudge.
“What? What is it, Dean? You’re thinking, and I don’t like it when you think.”
“I am thinking, Sarah. Darren said what a good doctor you were. Have you thought any more about going back? Would you like to?”
Sara
h’s face lit up.
“You know I would, but I’m going to enjoy a bit of time off first.”
“You should, Sarah. You sorted out my leg, remember?”
“We’ll see, Dean.”
“Anyway, it’s been a long day. Maybe we should have an early night.”
“Good idea, Dean, your wife needs taking to bed.”
They ran up the stairs together like naughty kids bunking off school.
It was 3am. Jodie was woken by a tap on the shoulder. She turned to see Benjie, complete with a black and white happy face, dressed all in black with white pompom buttons down his front.
Jodie sat up on the bed, yawning.
“Thanks for looking after my dad, Benjie.”
Benjie gave her a hug.
“I want you to come with me, Jodie.”
“Do I need to get ready?”
“No, you’re fine as you are. Now let’s go and get your mum and dad.”
Jodie walked into her parents’ bedroom. “Mum.” She shook Sarah’s shoulder. “Mum!”
Sarah opened one eye and looked at the bedside clock.
“Jodie, it’s the middle of the night.”
Jodie shook her again to make sure her other eye opened.
“We have a visitor, Mum.”
Light was bleeding in from the landing, illuminating a clown-shaped silhouette.
“Benjie?”
“Hi, Sarah, thanks for coming to see me the other day.” He bowed his head in appreciation before continuing. “I would be honoured if you and Dean would accompany me and Jodie. I would like you to see me off, if that’s OK?”
Sarah remembered she was naked and pulled the covers up to her neck.
“Dean, Dean, wake up. It’s Benjie.”
Dean woke up and saw Benjie in the doorway.
“Benjie, we weren’t expecting you. Sorry, can we help?”
“I can see you weren’t expecting me.” Benjie smiled and looked at Jodie. “Shall we give them a minute to get ready, Jodie?”
Jodie gave her mum and dad a ‘have you two been at it?’ look and rolled her eyes at them. She could think of nothing more disgusting.
“I think you might need some clothes on. Come on, Benjie, we’ll wait outside.”
Dean and Sarah were ready in seconds.
“Sorry, Benjie. Are you OK?” asked Dean.
“Do I look OK?”
Dean looked him up and down. “You’ve never looked better, Benjie, and the happy face suits you. I’ve always liked your happy face.”
“Today is a happy day, I don’t want any tears.” Benjie looked at Jodie. “Especially from you, young lady. I am going to see Bobo again.”
As they followed Benjie into the bathroom, the room transformed into the riverbank near the Ferryman’s jetty. Dean recognised the place instantly, and did not want Sarah and Jodie to experience what he had gone through. The atmosphere was different today, though – no mist; no angry water; just a serene calmness.
Dean looked at his watch; it was a minute or so before 3:15am.
Benjie said, “They will be here in a minute,” and from behind the reeds came David the barman, followed by Molly and her dog, Oscar. Then came Bill the train guard and Mrs McCauley, as well as Betty and Albert. Dean guessed Albert must have been having a bad day if he was in this world. They all looked resplendent, dressed in black.
As they walked past, saying hello to Dean and his family, a couple of them stopped for a kiss.
“Jodie, we are all proud of you for the chess game,” said Mrs McCauley.
As the guides formed a line by the riverbank, Benjie gave Dean and his family a smile.
“I wanted you to be here. There are only a few we manage to get back, so he allows us to have guests when we go. It’s a sort of perk of the job.”
Dean was fully aware of who ‘he’ was. Although he respected Death, he wasn’t really looking forward to seeing him again.
“It’s all fine, Dean, you’re no longer on his radar. We get a special send-off – no need for cloak and daggers with us. He’s thanking us for our help, and when we need to go, he makes sure everything is fine.”
Just then, Death appeared through the reeds and shook hands with the other guides, taking his place at the end of the line. Benjie looked at his fellow guides and friends, all waiting patiently to say goodbye to him.
“Well, here goes. Thanks for sharing this moment with me.”
He gave Sarah a hug. “Thank you, Benjie. Thanks for getting him back to me.”
Benjie wiped a tear from her face. “Sarah, I’m ready to go. Happy thoughts, please. Smile – I’m a clown; I like smiles. And you, young lady, we are all very proud of you. Make sure you have a nice life. We will all be looking out for you – we might even visit you from time to time.”
Jodie threw her arms around his big frame. “I love you, Benjie.”
Benjie uncoupled her hands from around his waist.
“I know you do. Make sure you look after your mum and dad, Jodie.”
“Are you going to be OK, Benjie?” Tears flowed from her watery eyes. She started to speak again, but before she could, Benjie put his finger to her lips.
“Happy thoughts, remember? I haven’t brought you here to go all weepy on me. And you, Dean, thanks for the journey. I can’t thank you enough for your performance in the Big Top – you make a great clown.”
Benjie took a black flower out of his lapel and gave it to Sarah, who instantly drew it in and hugged it.
”Dean, you made a sad old clown into a happy old clown. You are without doubt the second best Bobo I have ever met.”
Benjie gave Dean a wink, then looked over to the line. The guides had formed a guard of honour, their hands clasped ready for Benjie to do his final walk.
“I’d better go.”
As Benjie walked past his fellow guides, they stopped him for hugs, kisses and handshakes along the way. Death made a circular gesture with his cane to beckon Charon, but there was no crashing of waves this time, just the unmistakable sound of an oar lightly disturbing water. In the distance, the ferry was making haste across the water – with a passenger. A clown-shaped passenger, dressed exactly opposite to Benjie. Where Benjie wore black, the other clown wore white, and where Benjie wore white, the other clown wore black.
Benjie’s face lit up. “Bobo!” he shouted. “It’s Bobo.”
Everyone cheered as Charon wheeled the boat astern to shore up on the jetty. There were no histrionics, even from the Ferryman. Charon looked like it was his day off from being Mr Scary.
Benjie stepped onto the boat and hugged his long-time partner. As quickly as the ferry had arrived, it left again, with Bobo and Benjie heading for whatever was next. They turned and waved to the special guests who were there to witness it.
As the boat disappeared, there was a click of Death’s fingers and Jodie and her parents were tucked up in their beds again.
Dean opened one eye. He was naked with his adoring wife hugging him.
“Good luck, Benjie,” he whispered before rolling onto his side to sleep.
Chapter 43 – Enjoy Every Second
The next morning, Dean was first up. He wandered downstairs to sort out breakfast for his girls.
A black rose stood in the middle of a vase on the kitchen worktop. He took it out and smelt its beautiful scent before replacing it. Putting a capsule into the coffee machine, he set it off to make its unmistakable coffee producing noise.
Today was going to be a good day. Dean went to his office and checked his emails, finding a receipt from the minibus company and a picture. He’d asked for the Sweet Dreams logo to be put on the side of the new bus and he smiled to himself when he saw it. It was nice to be doing something good, and to be honest, if the home’s old bus had not made it to Beachy Head, he might not even be here.
The phone rang. Before the man on the other end could speak, Dean said, “Is that Dr Rhodes – James?”
“Yes, Dean, it is. I have some sad news…�
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“No you haven’t, James, you have some happy news.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, James. Benjie has gone, I know, but he got a good send off, and he’s back with Bobo. He’s very happy, I assure you.”
There was a pause before James answered.
“Is there any point in me asking how you know this?”
“You can ask, but I won’t tell you. James, will you be at the home this afternoon? Sarah and I were thinking of popping over. We have a surprise for you.”
“Of course, Dean, I’ll be in all afternoon.”
“OK, we’ll see you about one pm-ish. Have a good day, James.”
Dean put the phone down and returned to the kitchen, taking his espresso from the coffee machine and replacing it with an empty cup as he could hear murmurings from upstairs. Sarah appeared, looking as lovely as ever. She was greeted with a kiss and a coffee.
“Thanks, Dean. Who was that on the phone?”
Dean sat next to her on the breakfast bar.
“That was James Rhodes from Sweet Dreams. Hey, I have something to show you.”
Dean ran and got his Mac from the office. “Look,” he said proudly.
“Very nice. How did you get the logo on it?”
“Well, I asked them to pinch the logo from the home’s website and put it on both sides of the bus.”
Sarah gave him a sarcastic ‘my hero’ look. “You’re so clever, Dean.”
“I said we would pop over this afternoon. And we are giving James this, if that’s OK?” Dean showed Sarah a cheque he’d written out for £500,000.
“Of course it’s OK, Dean, that place is something special. Did he mention Benjie?”
Dean looked down. “Yes, that’s why he rang. I told him Benjie was fine with it and…” He paused. “Was I the only one, Sarah?”
Just then, Jodie appeared.
“No, Mum and I were there too, Dad. Weren’t we, Mum?”
Sarah smiled at Dean.
“You’re not crazy, Dean, unless we all are. We were all there.”
“Thank God for that. And are you both OK about it?”
“I’m OK with it, although I liked Benjie visiting. I’m going to miss him.”
