by Tim Heath
Nigel sat there quietly, deep in thought and processing the things he wanted to say.
“News of this Nottingham Forest takeover might have been fresh to you, but I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time,” Nigel said. Brendan was well aware of the preparation that Nigel went into, often having whole teams of management people to come into a new company, most of whom had no connection with anything they’d soon to be part of, but always going on to flourish.
“Between yourself and Tommy Lawrence, I want you to implement some changes.” Nigel often referred to Brendan and whoever, though both knew it wouldn’t always be Brendan doing all the work. He was, after all, a CEO himself with his own company to consider. But Brendan was the man connected; he would have the people to bring into place to see Nigel’s requirements met, as always. Brendan remained silent, merely looking up at Nigel to show that he was listening.
“The Nottingham Forest academy is the key thing here. There are many teenagers from around the country with whom I’ve become aware. Homegrown talent is the way to go, and I want these players under the attention of Mr Lawrence. I’ve identified ten such players at the moment, the oldest of whom is eighteen, and I’ll give you their details shortly. They’ll need approaching, signing and moving to the area. They are all English and need to be fast-tracked through the academy and into the first team over the next few years.”
“Are you asking me to interfere with the running of the team, sir?” Brendan said, suddenly not too keen on the hands-on approach that Nigel was implying.
“No, I am simply asking you to do your job.” About twenty-seconds of silence was finally broken when Nigel continued. “Mr Lawrence will soon be able to see for himself the ability of the players that I am making available. They’ll naturally be pressing through into the first team before long anyway. Mr Lawrence just needs to be encouraged that youth is the way forward, and the rest will take care of itself. A few of the kids are only second generation nationals, and therefore Mr Lawrence needs to be encouraged to bring them to the attention of the Under 16’s England set-up so that they come through the ranks and reach their potential, for England.”
Brendan didn’t say much. Entirely how his boss had come across these names, he wasn’t sure. How did he even know that they had a chance? How did anyone know? Most clubs take on about a hundred kids at that age, sometimes many more, and only one or two ever come through as talented adult players. Before the actions of the last couple of days, Brendan never had Nigel down as a sportsman, just a businessman. Making money always seemed his priority, and he certainly had plenty of it. Why now take such an interest in the long-term view? Why not buy all the players he wants and put them into the first team straight away? He certainly had the money. Tommy Lawrence would undoubtedly want to buy some new stars. Did he dare mention this? Was this in his plans at all? Maybe they’d come to that in a minute.
Robert sat comfortably in the back of the taxi as it pulled away from the cinema. Though he’d gone there to watch a film, his mind wasn’t quite able to concentrate, and he came out twenty minutes before the end; he had in fact seen the ending once before anyway. Now he was just processing things in his mind. He was sure that the men he’d seen coming out of the hotel had been looking for him. And not appearing to be the police, it could only mean trouble if they ever caught up with him. Robert would soon be aware of who they were, as long as he was able to pick up their trail at some later point, though he wasn’t going to go back to the Department of Information for a while. His little run-in with Jessica Ponter made that a no-go zone for a month or two. Heading out of town, the taxi driver pulled onto the motorway and picked up speed.
Robert pulled out a notepad that he had in his bag, a small reporters pad that he scribbled into frequently. There were dates, times and locations noted, but Robert flicked through the pages, only taking the odd glance on any single page, more of a review than anything else. His mind was not at rest. The little potential run-in had been too close for comfort, and he knew he needed to lie low for a while. Time was on his side, after all, so there was no need to rush things just now. He knew he had picked up his trail, had been around his people and had witnessed his business. Robert knew that he was getting closer, that his time would come, but for now, he would have to be a little more patient.
Having drifted off to sleep, Robert woke up with a start, as the taxi struggled down the small country track that led to the house where he was to be once again staying. Thick lumps of hard mud lay on the road and the taxi driver did his best to avoid them, yet still the car rocked from side to side as he swerved around as many as he could. Going the half mile to the house, he slowed and stopped outside the front door, pulling up in front of Robert’s car that had been returned from the garage, its engine problems now fixed he hoped, making future travelling a lot easier.
Robert thanked him for his time, paid the £60 agreed and left a further £10 tip, then grabbed his bag and got out of the car. The taxi driver waved with a smile as he pulled away and started negotiating the return trip down the muddy road, being far less careful now, as he put his suspension to good use. He was out of sight in no time.
Robert picked up his bag and carried it to the front door of the eighteenth-century farmhouse that had certainly seen better days, but it had a roof, open fire and a quiet setting which was perfect for now. Once a busy place, though now standing in ruins, the house was once owned and occupied by a wealthy and influential family, whose three sons were all brilliant scientists, a couple of them world-renowned. Now the house was a quiet backwater, with little clue of what had gone before, precisely why Robert used it.
Nigel and Brendan had been talking for over thirty minutes now, which was longer than they’d spoken for, over the last few months combined.
Having discussed the Nottingham Forest situation even further, and the importance of bringing through these younger players, Nigel had touched upon looking to sign other prominent players in the current game, though equally spelling out the players not to sign. Detailed lists were passed to Brendan, marked for his eyes only and with a highly confidential stamp very evident on the front page. Brendan didn’t need any reminding of their importance, as everything he ever got from Nigel was marked in the same way.
They had then discussed broader things, such as Brendan’s role as CEO and Nigel’s desire to see him taking more control of things. Even now, Nigel still had the final say on all new multi-national cases as to whether the risk was acceptable or not. Though Brendan would guide the firm in the premium stakes as to what would be acceptable, unless Nigel gave them the green light, no new business could be done. And this of course was an incredibly time-consuming process, which in the past had seen him sell on his gaming business, for a profit, to concentrate on the insurance market. Financially the move had been excellent. Profits were much higher now than they had been in the betting shops; however, it was his time that was most valuable.
6
It was a reasonably sunny day, a pleasant change to the way the weather had been the previous week. The dark clouds and heavy rain that had dominated the last ten days had only been a reflection of the turmoil that had gone on within her nineteen-year-old head.
Her car stood crammed with personal items, the last of the things that hadn’t already been taken to her brother’s. The downstairs windows on the large family home were boarded up, which gave the house a lonely and needy look. The ’For Auction’ sign hung tall and victorious on the front gate. What would have already been a sad day, was only compounded by the events of the previous week.
Jessica, ambling around and giving everything one last look, stood quietly for a few seconds in what once had been the family dining room but now stood empty. Jessica had cried enough lately, she didn’t think that she’d have any tears left, but her eyes started to moisten as she stood there in the silence. Hearing her brother closing the car door outside, brought her back to reality; she had been running through happy thoughts from her chi
ldhood of Christmases spent around the table. The family home was no more, having been repossessed by her parents’ mortgage provider, the final straw in the financial battles. Jessica had worked in her father’s business for two years since leaving school. It was a computer software company and had employed up to thirty people before it started running into difficulties.
The firm had lost several key people to a rival and then saw their market share drop. Suddenly jobs were on the line. Jessica started working in the finance section to try and steady the ship, and it was here that she was first approached by HICL, now happy to answer their consistent messages in the hope of being able to reduce the money they were paying out for insurance. That encounter started her friendship with Brendan Charles, who she saw as a confidant and support because of the help he offered. Though a CEO of a major UK company, he had personally been involved in the discussions with her father’s firm, which had meant Jessica meeting with Brendan herself several times over a matter of weeks. She had much appreciated the help and advice that he offered, and they were able to reduce the out-goings concerning the insurance. But despite all their hard work, the bottom dropped out of the market, and they were left exposed, with too few staff and no products to sell.
Her father was left with mounting debts and no other option but to file for bankruptcy. The doors of the family business were closed, but not before the bank had filed to repossess their home. The repayments hadn’t been kept up by her father. Jessica had watched him go from a confident businessman to someone now burying his head in the sand. She found herself losing respect for the man she had grown up idolising, her male role model suddenly reduced to a weeping wreck.
Over the coming weeks, there was a subtle change in her relationship with her father. She started to grow closer to Brendan, who became her new father figure, although she wouldn’t admit it. Jessica’s father became jealous, gradually increasingly angrier, often shouting at her, accusing her even of having an affair with Brendan. He also started drinking more, and their relationship dramatically broke down.
Ten days before they were to move out of the house, it was Jessica who found her father hanging from a tree in their garden, a rope tied around his neck in an apparent suicide. An empty hollow bitterness instead replaced the shock and sadness that there would have been only a few months before. She was angry that again her father had not faced up to his situation, but also upset that she had grown apart from him over the last few weeks and their final words had been bitter.
Jessica tried her best to block out the pain that she was feeling. She turned to Brendan even more and would call him up at any hour of the day. Brendan was happy to help her as he had already been made aware of her use within the Group, and he saw Jessica had a bright young mind with a lot of promise. With her father’s company finished, she was now out of work and staying with her brother. It wasn’t the ideal set-up, her brother had turned his back on the family and their father’s business a few years before, wanting nothing to do with any of them. He lived in a small two bedroomed flat close to the pub he worked at and the football team for which he played.
Brendan offered to help her out, stating that he would soon be able to find a role for her somewhere with his connections but that she’d have to make do for a few months. She knew she had fallen on her feet with Brendan and grew very fond of him. Meeting up again over a space of a few weeks to discuss various options available, Brendan started to become aware that he was spending a lot of time with a beautiful young single female. Cautious of the damage that could be done if ever someone accused him of something, he started to limit contact to more formal settings and to see her less frequently. To Jessica, still getting over the death of her father and desperate to get out of her brother’s tiny flat, this sudden change in Brendan’s behaviour gave out a mixed message; she started thinking that she had done something wrong or had offended Brendan somehow. Not wanting to damage the lifeline and friendship she had found, nor the income she was getting by doing several favours for Brendan, she had turned up at his house one Friday night very drunk, knowing his wife was out of town, knocking loudly on the door. Brendan could see that she had been crying and could smell the drink. She offered herself to him straight away, throwing her arms up around his shoulders before struggling to take off her clothes, getting down to her underwear before falling to the floor in a heap with a bump. Brendan didn’t know what to do and stood there silently; he knew not to take advantage of her. Besides, having put a dressing gown on her and seating her on his sofa, by the time he’d come back from the kitchen with a strong coffee she was sound asleep.
That night, though, had made Brendan aware of Jessica’s state of mind and having chatted through the options previously with Nigel Gamble, he now knew first hand that she’d do anything to get by.
Awake and sober the next morning, they’d chatted over breakfast, Jessica a little embarrassed by her previous night’s display, though she couldn’t remember much, her head hurting from the excess alcohol as the sun streamed in through the large windows. She was aware that they hadn’t had sex, which only increased her respect for Brendan as others would have indeed taken advantage of her in the emotional and physical state she had been in the night before.
“I’ve come to think of a way that we’d be able to use your services further, Jessica,” Brendan had said that morning over coffee. He went on to tell her about a man his boss wanted to employ, a man who was, in fact, the manager of the team for which her brother played. Then going into detail over the next thirty minutes, Brendan explained how it would be arranged for her to meet this man at a home game on Sunday. He expanded how Jessica should behave with the man, what she should say, stating that he knew they’d get on really well anyway.
Jessica was glad to get her teeth into something and was curious about the opportunity being presented to her. She accepted the offer though stated she wasn’t going to prostitute herself for him. Brendan assured her that they’d get on well and that he wasn’t asking her to sleep with him. He just wanted her to make contact and later down the line to introduce him to Brendan. He explained that there was a good career move on the cards in a few months’ time working for a government organisation, so all he was asking her to do was to have some fun while that job was set up for her.
A few weeks went by before Brendan got in contact again, requesting that she made herself available for that coming Sunday to meet this connection. Putting on an eye-catching red dress with knee-high chocolate brown leather boots and her hair tied up, she went to the game with her brother, who hadn’t any idea about Brendan’s request. Brendan was already waiting in the shadows keeping a close eye and smiled when he saw that Jessica had made an effort. Who wouldn’t notice Jessica dressed so beautifully as she was? She looked stunning, and Brendan grinned as every lad’s head turned and watched her as she walked past, Tommy no different. Her brother introduced them, as any brother would, and left them talking as he went into the changing rooms to get ready for the game, as did all the others, apart from Tommy, who was practically breathing Jessica in. They seemed to make an instant connection and Brendan, spotting that Tommy’s attention had indeed been caught, slipped away quietly and unnoticed from the shadows, knowing his work was done.
In the weeks that followed that Sunday in April, Jessica and Tommy grew very close. She never mentioned the fact that she was being paid, employed even, to strike up this relationship. And besides, before too long her own feelings took over and she could see herself falling in love with him. Contacting Brendan about his long-term plans for her, she requested that she stop being paid for what she was doing as she didn’t feel right about it. Instead, she wanted to see how that job was taking shape that he’d mentioned a few months back. Brendan told her that things were ready and that they’d need to move house. It was the summer now and she’d spent three long months with Tommy, moving in together after just one whirlwind month, and Jessica didn’t know how he would react. He had lived and worked there for y
ears and moving would mean leaving the team behind.
Finally bringing up the subject one evening over a candlelit dinner that she had spent all afternoon preparing, Jessica was amazed and pleased at how well he took the news and how quickly he decided just to leave things behind and go with her. Jessica had left her brother’s flat to move in with Tommy, though his place was no more significant either. Realising they needed a new house, and with this opportunity presenting itself, they upped and left and were gone before the summer was over.
She settled in quickly with her new job and loved it. Tommy was finding it hard to get a job, and after a few weeks of frustration, it was Jessica who called up Brendan to see what he could do. Brendan had been waiting for the call and had everything in place, as he had been instructed.
By the end of that year, Tommy was very much part of things at Brendan’s company. Having gone straight into Brendan’s academy, he was staying away for a residential weekend. His drink was spiked, his guard dropped, and when Sophie, a twenty-six-year-old colleague and former model made advances on him, Tommy thought Christmas had come early. Taking her to his room, they slept together. Set-Up as Tommy had been, there was a hidden camera in the room which recorded everything in all its sordid detail. The following morning, while Tommy lay in bed with a terrible headache feeling sick at himself lying next to a half naked girl, the pictures from the in-room camera had already been printed. It was Brendan himself who broke the news to Jessica at her home over lunch, again being the shoulder to cry on, as he showed her the pictures. He’d told her he was showing her out of respect for her and the friendship they shared, which was, of course, a lie. Though she had grown to love him, she’d always regretted the way that they had met in the first place and feared that one day it would come out. Now, once again angry that a man she had loved had done this to her, she packed up her things that afternoon, with Brendan’s help, and was gone.
