by Stan Mason
‘By the time I’ve done what I really want to do,’ predicted Harry joyfully, ‘there’ll be just the right amount I need to keep me solvent for the rest of my life. Just think... it’s earning me hundreds of pounds every day just laying in the bank earning interest. All that money working for me every day. It’s really unbelievable.’
‘So how are you going to spend it, or haven’t you worked it out yet?’ asked his friend inquisitively. ‘A house in the country with a television set in every room. Every technological modern appliance available. A villa in the South of France. Two... no, three cars... blah, blah, blah, and you’ve still got the best part of a million left.’
‘I’ve got to take care of the family,’ came the reluctant reply. ‘That’ll take care of half a million and after spending all that we need I reckon that’ll leave me with a million. That should see me throughout the rest of my days however high inflation goes.’
‘A million,’ repeated Bradbury, licking his lips as he thought about the sum. ‘A worthy amount to have in the bank if you ever need it.’
And that was exactly what Harry did with the money. The first thing to do after receiving the cheque was to inform his employer that he was no longer interested in going in to work. Then he was forced to fill the greedy hands of all the relatives who had contacted him for what they thought was their rightful due. After that, the Spires spent two months seeking out a six bedroom mansion in the countryside which they eventually found and purchased. They filled it with modern furniture and every new household appliance available. In fact, Harry took Tom Bradbury’s advice and installed a television set in every room. Then there was his own personal desire to fulfil. For that purpose, he bought two cars. The first was an exclusive expensive turbo model sports-car... the second being a large saloon in which to take out the family. After that, they went on a thirty-day cruise to give themselves time to think about the future. At the end of it, Harry and Susan had almost a million pounds in the bank and in investments, producing a handsome sum in interest and appreciation each month.
Life was good for both of them but there is a saying that when fortune favours someone it has to be balanced out by the equivalent amount of misfortune. And that’s the way it happened because, after they had returned from the cruise, life altered dramatically for both of them. In the Spires case, it was a matter of substantial change. The children were sent to a boarding school so the parents were left alone. They employed a servant and a cleaning maid on a full-time basis to look after the house, but Harry was absent more times than not, dining out with his new-found friends. He had given up gambling on the horses and the national lottery. Instead his interests were compensated by playing golf every day. This led to evening soirees at friend’s houses and, because Susan was never involved, she tended to be left out... all on her own, without her children, in a six bed roomed house. His absence became even more pronounced by his journeys abroad to the United States and Portugal, as well as to Scotland, to play in golfing tournaments. Even though he offered to take her with him she was less than interested by the sport and subsequently declined. His golfing interest bored her to tears and, ultimately, they spent a great deal of time apart. This hardly affected her really because she had employed a gardener who was a very sensual good-looking young man. In the absence of her husband and her children, she took the opportunity to become quite intimate with him. As far as she was concerned, her days, and sometimes her nights, proved to be quite fruitful... especially when it came to love and personal attention. Conversely, the gardens tended to fall into disarray as the two of them spent more time with each other in one of the bedrooms.
At the same time, Harry discovered that there was a considerable female following for up-and-coming golfers. As time passed by, he found himself often in the company of Rebecca, a startling ginger-haired attractive young woman who followed him around wherever he went. Eventually, on one of the events, they spent an evening dining together and, needless to say, one thing led to another and they became intimately involved. However, one day when he came home early to find his wife in bed with the gardener, he blew his top.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded furiously, as the gardener grabbed his clothes and disappeared out of the room at tremendous speed.
‘Are you blind or something!’ countered Susan equally angrily, going on to the attack. ‘I’m having an affair... that’s what I’m doing! And why not? You haven’t been around for nearly two weeks! And you only appeared briefly for two weeks before that! I’m a woman and I have needs which you no longer fulfil. Anyhow, I heard that you’ve been sleeping with someone called Rebecca, so what’s your beef? Don’t deny it! I know it’s true!’
‘How do you know?’ he asked in bewilderment, believing it had been a secret affair. He had taken every care to ensure that his infidelity went undiscovered but his wife seemed to have had no difficulty in finding it out.
‘I have my sources!’ she snapped irately. ‘Don’t think you can get away with it!’ She paused as he calmed down with an element of shame. ‘I warned you that winning a lot of money would affect our lives. And it’s true... it has! We’ve got an enormous house with six bedrooms. I’ve only been in two of them since we moved here. I never see the children except at half term. Do you realise what you’ve done to me by doing that? And most of all, I never see you any more. You’re always away playing golf!’
‘You’re right,’ he told her sombrely, sitting down in a chair with his shoulders hunched in humility. ‘We had it all and I let it slip away. All those years I wanted to win a large amount of money and look where it’s landed us! Do you know what I was really worried about? I was concerned that I would win a fortune when I was eighty-five... and be too old to enjoy spending it. I know it sounds silly, but that’s what I thought. But you’re right. Winning all that money distorted our live It changed everything... where we live, the children, the things we do and don’t do... especially for the love we had for each other. Is it possible for us to go back to square one?’
‘We can do if we care for each other again,’ she told him. ‘We have to be there when we need each other... whenever we want each other. That’s how we can recover our marriage. The alternative is divorce. That’s what winning the lottery can do if you let it.’
‘I’ll give up golf,’ he blurted out suddenly.
‘And Rebecca as well? Will you give her up?’
‘I’ve already done it,’ he confirmed. ‘It’s done!’
‘Well don’t expect me to rush into your arms,’ she informed him. ‘Not after you’ve just finished an affair with another woman!’
‘And I’m not eager to embrace you after your caper with the gardener. That’s for sure!’
She sat up on the bed and leaned towards him. ‘So do we try to salvage our marriage or not?’ she asked, pressing her lips together as she waited for his answer.
‘I suppose so,’ he responded. ‘For us and for the children.’
She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. His attitude was strictly neutral rather than positive and she had doubts that they would remain together as husband and wife for very much longer. However Harry did change his life-style. He locked away his golf clubs and never played again. Instead he focussed on his sports car and went to rallies... on his own, but he never paid Susan much attention and they were never intimate together. She didn’t mind too much. She simply continued her affair with the gardener, taking more care this time not to be discovered.
A few months went by and Harry started to become bored with the motor circuit crew. They were so advanced with motor mechanics, far beyond his knowledge that on occasion he felt lost. He drifted along like a cork bobbing in a open sea wondering what to do with himself all the while feeling that there was something in the world that he should be doing. He contacted Tom Bradbury and invited him to his home one weekend to seek his advice.
&nbs
p; ‘I’ve asked you here, Tom, because I think you might be able to help me,’ he began, as they sat in the ornately designed lounge with glasses of wine in their hands. ‘I’ve lost interest in golf and I’m disenchanted with motor racing,’ he said sadly. ‘What the hell do I do with my life except turn to drink?’
‘Well,’ setting that aside for a moment, Harry,’ commented his friend, ‘let me ask you what is your deepest desire... something you yearn for deep down inside... something you always wanted to do before you won the lottery? That has to be the answer. I mean did you always want to provide the finance for a major theatre to put on a play and support it thereafter or build a new hospital wing, or support a football team and watch them during the season. You know what I mean.’
Harry sipped his drink thoughtfully. ‘No... none of those,’ he confessed solemnly. ‘You’re well-connect with the aircraft industry, aren’t you? Well there is one thing I’ve always thought about. It’s odd and you’ll think me silly. It’s daft really.’
‘Tell me about it!’
There was a long pause before he continued. ‘I’ve dreamed of hiring a whole aircraft for myself only... not a Cessna but a large aircraft... and fly to Cannes in the South of France. I want to fly in an aeroplane all by myself.’
‘Well that shouldn’t be too much of a problem,’ replied his friend. ‘Just charter one. You can afford it.’
‘No... I don’t think you understand,’ continued Harry more boldly. ‘Not in an ordinary aircraft... ...
something like a Black Bat. It has to be a state-of-the-art aircraft. Something extra special.’
‘Extra special,’ uttered Bradbury, screwing up his face with concern. He was indeed well-connected with the aircraft industry but what his friend asked him was impossible. The Black Bat was a military aircraft which flew at three thousand miles an hour. It wasn’t available for private use. But then he recalled another aircraft in its initiation stage which could be the answer to his friend’s wish. ’Funny you should say that,’ he went on, ’because I might have just the thing for you. Leave it to me. I’ll get it sorted out.’
Two days later he telephoned Spires, almost jumping up and down with excitement. ’You’re so lucky to have a friend like me,’ he boasted triumphantly. ’I had to pull a few strings, pull in some favours, and twist some arms, but I’ve booked the most modern plane of its kind for you. The whole plane. State-of-the-art! It’s so new, it’s only come through its final test today. You’re going to be in for the biggest surprise of your life, Harry. It has everything! And I mean everything! don’t ask me anything about it. I want you to be surprised when you see it. All that needs to be known is the date when you want to travel.’
‘How about tomorrow,’ suggested Spires. ‘I’ve got nothing else to do.’
‘Then tomorrow it’ll be. I’ll come back to you with the details later. You’re in for a real treat!’
On the following day, a chauffeured car brought Harry to a private airport. Tom Bradbury was waiting at the entrance with two mechanics to greet him. They whisked him away through a hangar.
‘There are a couple of things I need to point out,’ related his friend with an element of concern. ‘The first thing is that this is the most modern aircraft in the world. It’s fully computerised and has no pilot and no air stewardess. As I say, fully computerised.’
‘Great!’ retorted Harry becoming more interested in the project. ‘I presume it can cope with everything that way.’
‘I believe so. But the second thing is more serious. It has been tested and proved to be okay in operation but it’s only had one test. By going up, you’re taking a risk. It needs to have more tests to be absolutely sure it can operate fully. Do you still want to go up in it knowing that?
‘If it passed its last test, I can’t see any problem,’ uttered Spires disconsolately. ‘Let’s see this fantastic aircraft of yours!’
They exited the far end of the hanger to face the aircraft on the tarmac. At first sight, Harry was very disappointed when he saw the plane. Although it was capable of carrying some two hundred people it looked exactly the same as any other aeroplane with different markings on the sides. He pulled a face and walked up the steps to the main door. As he entered, a voice greeted him warmly.
‘Good morning, Mr. Spires. Welcome to Flight A101. We hope that you have a pleasant trip.’
Harry looked around for the air hostess who had spoken and then discovered two electronic eyes, one on each side of the door. He realised that, as he passed through the entrance, he had broken the beam which triggered off a tape-recorder. When he entered the cabin, he was in for a further surprise. There was only one seat available, an executive chair located in the centre of the body, in the whole of the aircraft. It had a table on one side on which rested a computer console and a monitor ten feet in front of it hanging from the ceiling. On the other side, there was a cupboard on which there were cigarettes, cigars, sweets and chocolates and all the day’s newspapers.
Harry was extremely impressed and made a mental note to by a gift for Tom Bradbury in appreciation for his efforts. It was clearly going to be the trip of his dreams... something he had always wanted to do. He sat down in the comfortable executive chair to relax. As soon as he did so, his weight triggered off a signal and the door of the cabin closed by itself. He sniffed slightly confused at the absence of any air hostesses, picked up one of the cigars and lit it. The plane was at his command and if he wanted to smoke, when normally all cigars and cigarettes were banned from aircraft, it was his prerogative. He was the sole patron on this trip so he could do anything he liked.
Sixty seconds elapsed before the monitor in front of him switched on of its own accord.
‘Good morning, Mr. Sires!’ sounded a female voice from a speaker above him. ‘This is Flight A101. We hope you have a very pleasant journey. It is the first time this aircraft has flown commercially and you will find it fully computerised. Everything is automated...
fully automated. Drinks are available if you press the button marked ‘D’ on the console.’
Harry pressed the letter ‘D’ on the keyboard in front of him and a list of drinks zoomed up on the screen of the monitor.
‘Each drink is prefaced with a number,’ continued the voice. ‘Please press the button with the appropriate number and the drink selected will be dispensed to you.’
He pressed a number on the console and the cupboard opened in which a metal device emerged to place a glass of whisky and dry ginger on the table.
‘Please press the button on your console marked ‘Y’ when you wish the aircraft to take off.’ the voice went on.
Harry pressed the button and the engines began to roar. Then the aircraft sped across the runway and quickly shot up into the sky. He raised his glass in triumph, enjoying every second of the trip, looking around as if to toast a host of imaginary passengers. This was the life... travelling by an exquisite special executive class... with everything completely automated in the latest state-of-the-art plane available in the whole of the world! It made him feel good... very good!
He selected a magazine and began to read it but, after a short while, the female voice continued to keep him informed.
‘We are now cruising at thirty thousand feet. Our destination is the South of France. If you would like to watch a film showing at all the major cinemas this week, please press the button marked ‘F’ on your console.’ Harry pressed the button and gazed at the monitor which produced a full list from which he could choose. ‘Each film is prefaced by a number,’ the voice went on. ‘If you wish to select one of them, please press the appropriate number on the console.’
Harry lowered the magazine. He was really beginning to enjoy the trip and pressed one of the numbers. Fo0r the next twenty minutes he enjoyed the first part of an American drama. However he began to feel a little uneasy. For some strange reas
on, he believed that something was awry. The aircraft started to buck slightly as if affected by turbulence and he notice that it kept changing direction. In due course, he reckoned that the plane had turned in a full circle and was returning the place from where it had taken off. He stared bleakly at the console. If he wanted assistance, which button would he need to press? Most likely it would be the ‘A’ or the ‘He’ button. He pressed both of them in turn but nothing happened. Then he thought of the May-Day distress signal and pressed the ‘M’ button.
‘We are now cruising at thirty thousand feet,’ came the female voice. ‘This is Flight A101 and this is the first time this aircraft has flown commercially. You will find it is fully computerised. Everything is automated. Everything is fully automated designed to be flown entirely by computer with no human staff. We can assure you that nothing will go wrong... nothing will go wrong... nothing will go wrong... nothing will go wrong... ’
As the voice kept repeating the final part of the message, Harry climbed out of the executive chair and hurried to the forward part of the aircraft. How ridiculous! He would certainly give the pilot a piece of his mind for trying to play tricks on him! He wrenched open the door to the pilot’s cabin and burst inside with his index finger raised to impress his point on the errant flier. To his complete and utter astonishment, no one was there... just an array of instruments. It was indeed a state-of-the-art aircraft fully automated... run by a computer... and nothing could go wrong... nothing could go wrong! A few seconds later, the plane went into a spin and the rest, for Harry, was history!
There was no doubt that the tragedy had occurred through winning the national lottery. Susan shed a few tears at the demise of her husband at the funeral. He had not been a good companion and, after winning all the money, he had not been a good husband at all. Yet she had been married to him and they had two children together. She never married the gardener... in fact she never married again. But then why should she? She was the kind of person who always counted her blessings, ignoring Lady Luck for being an errant kind of spirit. Her bank account and investments were far more than enough for her to do anything she wanted in life. She was relatively young, extremely attractive, and she could have any man she wanted at any time. That’s the way she like it and that’s the way it turned out to be! The events proved one thing though. One should always respect the old adage: ‘Be careful what you wish for!’
