I want to keep the car. Especially if it’s a Lamborghini and it didn’t cost $500,000.
This form of the word simply means to hang on to something, or up the proper definition, to have or retain possession of
Paring it with other words is where it gets complicated.
For instance,
Keepings off, make sure that the ball doesn’t get into someone else’s possession.
Keep it to yourself, yes, here’s your chance to become the harbinger of secrets and not tell anyone else. Not unless a lot of money is involved, or a Lamborghini.
You guessed it, the car is the running joke on this post.
How about, keep a low profile, been there tried that, it’s a lot harder than you think.
What about keeping your cards close to your chest, yes, this had both a literal and figurative meaning which makes it sort of unique.
That might follow the second definition, to continue, or cause to continue a particular state.
Another way of using keep is by delaying or stopping someone from doing something or getting somewhere; ie, I was kept waiting at the doctor’s surgery because he was late.
There are any number of examples of using the word keep in tandem with other words
One that specifically doesn’t relate to all the former examples, is simply the word keep.
What is it?
Usually the strongest part of the castle, and the last to fall in an attack.
How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect it.
In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.
I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.
Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.
There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.
Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.
It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.
For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.
It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!
Perhaps not, but now seems to be an appropriate time, nearing the age of 72, to take stock.
We have achieved a lot in the last twenty or so years once the children have grown up and can look after themselves.
Unlike a lot of more modern couples who are travelling in their 20s and 30s and then having children, we chose to do it the other way around.
To me, it seemed easier to deal with teenagers when we were in our 40s rather than our 60s. With the benefit of hindsight, I can truthfully say we were right.
We were older and wiser when we travelled and more aware of the dangers around us, sometimes overlooked or ignored by a youthful devil-may-care attitude.
But, in saying that ….
No, I don’t think I’ll be getting to see Mt Kilimanjaro, observing the wild animals in the Serengeti, climbing Mt Everest, or seeing the ancient pyramids.
But, if it is ever possible before I die, I still want to go to the Greek Islands, and, Santorini is at the top of my travel bucket list.
We’ve been to London. We’ve been to Paris and Euro Disney. We’ve been to Rome and seen the ancient ruins. We’ve been to Vienna, Schönbrunn Palace, and, particularly for us, a visit to Swarovski crystal world, near Innsbruck, we’ve been to Salzburg, and been on the Sound of Music tour.
We’ve been to Florence and loved it, we’ve been to Venice and loved that too, and we’ve spent a few days in the heart of Tuscany, and want to go back for longer, much longer.
In fact, that’s the second item on the travel bucket list.
We’ve also been to Singapore and Hong Kong, at first out of necessity as an airline stopover, but then we went back to see the city and tourist, and non-tourist attractions.
I will not forget staying at the Hong Kong Conrad Hotel as a Diamond Hilton Honors member. Oh, the memories.
We’ve also stayed on the French Riviera, in a timeshare apartment in Antibes where every morning when out back you had a view of the shimmering Mediterranean if the sun was out.
Nice, Cannes, Monte Carlo, the billionaire’s yachts in Antibes harbour, Monte Carlo, and ‘that’ casino, taking the same drive along the coast as Grace Kelly did in To Catch a Thief, and feeling like James Bond arriving for a new adventure, minus the half-million-dollar sports car.
But now, crashing back to earth with an extremely hard thump ….
Travel in the future is looking difficult for both of us, not only financially but from a health aspect. We are both not as sprightly as we used to be.
Yet given the restraints and if it is at all possible, aside from the Greek Islands and Tuscany, the next items on the list are:
Germany, visiting both Berlin, from a Cold War aspect, the Brandenburg gate springs to mind, and Munich at the time of the Octoberfest. As a beer drinker that is also high on my bucket list.
Scotland, more so since we’ve started watching Outlander, and besides being a beer drinker, I am also partial to a good Single Malt, the Whiskey Trail.
Ireland, because my wife’s previous name was Murphy and at some point, in the long distant past some relatives emigrated to Australia, and she would like to visit the country of her forebears.
But with the current state of the world, our health issues, and that all-important requisite money, or the lack of it, perhaps it’s time to visit other parts of our own country.
Perhaps it’s time to do a culinary trip, particularly down south. It’s practical, achievable, and safe.
For a story that was conceived during those long boring hours flying in a steel cocoon, striving to keep away the thoughts that the plane and everyone in it could just simply disappear as planes have in the past, it has come a long way.
Whilst I have always had a fascination in what happened during the second worlds war, not the battles or fighting, but in the more obscure events that took place, I decided to pen my own little sidebar to what was a long and bitter war.
And, so, it continues…
…
Wallace had not returned upstairs by the normal stairs, but the one by the radio room, far removed from the basement area where the prisoners were kept.
If he had, he might have realised that something was very, very wrong.
There were no more prisoners, except for Martina. The other defectors that had been captured had, on Johannsen’s orders, taken away by the three remaining resistance fighters, to be executed in the woods not far from the castle.
They had gone an hour before Schmidt’s men had departed, but in a different path, and would avoid running into the others. Johannesen had given Fernando’s second-in-command a silenced luger and told him to only use that gun for the execution. And to make as little noise as possible.
When they had left an eerie silence fell over the cellar.
Johannsen passed by Martina’s cell and looked in. She was lying on the ground, still badly injured from the beating Fernando had given her. She let him look at her for a minute, then said, “When is this going to be over. I’m not going to tell you anything.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment?”
“Where did you send the rest of the prisoners?”
“Back to Germany. Someone else can deal with them.”
She didn’t believe him for one moment, but let it pass. “Why betray your country?”
“England? England wasn’t my country, it’s just where I ended up before the war. Then it seemed a good idea to become a double agent.”
“Germany isn’t winning the war, you know, despite what the fools in Berlin keep telling you.”
“I could have you shot for saying that.”
“Then get on with it. I’m over waiting for whatever you’re going to do to me.”
“All in good time. The new people have brought some very good interrogators and they promise they’ll have you singing like a canary in no time.”
She shrugged, and it hurt.
“Fools.”
“Actually, I’m inclined to agree with you. So much so, I believe, if I can get you out of here, you might put in a good word for me. Atherton is out there, and he’s coming, isn’t he?”
“Atherton is just a boy pretending to be a soldier.”
He smiled. “That’s what he wants everyone to think, but Thompson, the man you take orders from, he thinks Atherton is one of his best agents. And he will have a plan, and being the archaeological major that he was, he’ll know how to breach this place.”
And the fact she didn’t argue or deny what he was suggesting told him she was waiting.
“You expect too much, there are no more resistance fighters except for a few young lads, and that dog of his.” She laughed. “Rescued by three children and a dog. I wonder if Germany will record that piece of history if it comes to pass. Go away, whoever you are, and leave me to die in peace.”
“When the time comes, I’ll be back.”
She ignored him, and rolled over to face the wall.
The two guards had been watching him, though they had not been following the conversation. The officer in charge, Wallace, had told them to keep an eye on everyone who came and went, and though Johannesen was on that watch list because he treated them better than Jackerby or the commandant did, they simply ignored him.
At their peril.
Johannesen wandered up to them, bade them a good evening, and then shot them. He dragged the bodies to a place where no one would look and then headed along to the radio room. The guards and radio men would not be changed for another eight hours, so no one was going to miss them. Unless someone came down top check, but Johannesen had done several nights observation, and no one had.
The two radio men disposed of, it was time to block off the entrances to the basement so no one could come down. These exits or entrances were large iron gates bolted and locked with ancient locks. There was only one key to each, and Johannsen had the key ring with them on it. He’d taken that of one of the dead guards.
Once the entrances were locked, he went back to Martina’s cell and unlocked the door.
At the sound of the key, she turned back.
“Time to go,” he said. “We have a very small wind to escape before they find out upstairs.”
“I cannot save you, if Atherton thinks you are a traitor.”
“Atherton is probably the only level headed person in this area. He’ll appreciate what I;ve done and give me a second chance.”
She shook her head.
“Once a traitor, always a traitor.”
“Be that as it may, just hold that thought. I’m giving you a gun, and I’m hoping you won’t use it on me.”
He went into the cell and assisted her to stand. She was weak, but the thought of escaping death put a little life into her limbs.
“It will not be a quick getaway,” she said.
“Just as long as it is a getaway,” he said, as they headed for the exit.
At the same time, there was a very large explosion from above, the percussive sound almost deafening them.
“What the hell was that?” Johannesen muttered.
“Most likely the diversion we needed, that you forgot to arrange.”
Y is for — You can sort it out. The boss thinks certain people are not needed until they are.
…
For someone who continually professed that they would never let work affect them outside of business hours, and who usually dropped off to sleep when their head hit the pillow, I was still awake at 2:30 am.
Perhaps it was the unofficial rumour running through the company like wildfire that the CEO of the family-run business had disappeared, and the prodigal son was considering selling the company off to the highest bidder, something his father would never do.
Perhaps it was the fact I knew that son, Jeremy McMaster, only too well, practically from the day he was born, we both went to the same schools, university, and I watched him turn into the disloyal, lazy, incompetent fool, and eventually, the major disappointment to his father that he was now.
Perhaps it was the fact that without the old man in charge, the company would soon be on life support and a great many people who depended on it for their livelihood would soon be out of work, and then, like other cities around us, it would wither and die.
Perhaps it was the fact that good people were leaving every day in the absence of any news that could give them hope.
Perhaps it was the fact that I knew there was nothing I could do to turn things around. I could try, but the prodigal son had forbidden it and dismissed anyone in Management who could have made a difference.
At least he couldn’t fire me. The old man had ensured that I would have a job for life or as long as the company was in business. That was the promise my father had extracted when he lent a swag of money to the old man when things went awry about 30 years before.
Now, it didn’t seem it would be long before my tenure would be over. Either way, to me, it didn’t matter. The prodigal son would soon discover that he had to repay my father’s loan before he could take anything for himself, and the way it was going, he was not going to make anything at all.
And the interesting part of all this was that I don’t think he knew what would happen in the event of the business being sold. That, I figured, would be within the next three days when an offer would be tendered to take over the business or parts of it
Someone had anonymously sent me a copy of the draft proposal, and it was horrendous.
Maybe that’s why I couldn’t sleep.
I dropped into an uneasy sleep, only to be woken by the shrill sound of my cell phone. Obviously, I’d forgotten to turn it off the night before, but usually, that wasn’t a problem.
Very few people called me, and even less knew I had it. I had a work phone as the main point of contact, and I turned it off. By the time I had gotten out of bed, it stopped ringing. Good. If it were important, they would call again.
I moved it to beside the bed, glancing at the time. 3:37 AM I sighed, getting back under the covers. It was cold, and I was tired and a little annoyed.
13 minutes later, the phone rang. I rolled back the covers, picked it up, and glared at the screen. Private number. I considered ignoring it and switching off the phone, and going back to bed.
I didn’t. Wondering who it could be, I pressed the answer button. “What?” I put just enough annoyance into my tone to make the caller think twice before they annoyed me.
“That’s a nice way to greet a long-lost friend, Michael.”
I knew that voice and the girl it belonged to, the one that had broken my heart ten years ago when she abruptly up and left without so much as a goodbye
Elaine McMaster, quite literally the boss’s daughter.
The girl I had been madly in love with, and quite likely still was, if missing a few heartbeats just hearing her voice was anything to go by.
“You have a new phone, and if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have answered.”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
Nothing ever was. She was one of those people who always had an excuse, always passing the blame to anyone else but herself, and had a Daddy who could buy her way out of trouble. She was quite literally the female version of Jeremy.
“Not a discussion I want at this hour of the night, nor at any time. Go away, Elaine and make some other poor wretch’s life miserable.”
Silence. I hoped she had hung up in my ear. She hadn’t.
“Can’t.”
“Can’t what?” I wasn’t going to forgive myself for taking the bait.
“Can’t go make some other wretch’s life miserable. I’m outside your door. I thought it best to call first before pounding on your door.”
“I could have moved.” It was a lame comeback, but only she could make me feel like this. I could never hate her.
“You’re a creature of habit, Michael. A place for everything, and everything in its place.”
“Except you.”
“I told you from the outset that loving me would be your greatest challenge. But, having said that, I chose you to go to the prom for a reason, and that reason holds today as it has for most of my life. Now, are you going to open the door, or do I have to start pounding on it?”
That begged the question: how did she get past the security?
“I’m hanging up now.” And did
I was of two minds whether to open the door. I knew the moment I saw her I would melt, so it was probably wiser to leave her there
Damn her.
I knew I was going to regret it the moment I opened that door.
I never understood why she picked the shy, gangly, awkward teenager I once was to go to the prom when she could take anyone. That one night changed me forever.
Until, of course, she left.
And there she was, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, with that whimsical expression I used to think she saved for me. It wasn’t, but I had my fantasies.
She stepped over the threshold and into my space, and without a second hesitation, put her arms around my neck and reached up that short distance, inviting me to kiss her.
The first time, I had not understood the nuance, and it annoyed her
How could I refuse?
And in that short period, anything from a few seconds to an hour and a half, I lost myself in a world I thought I’d never go back to.
“Damn you, Elaine,” I cursed under my breath.
“Because you never stopped loving me, or because I never stopped loving you.”
She brought her roller case over the threshold and closed the door, leaning against it.
“My mother, just before she died, sent me away to her sister in Switzerland. The reason I left in such a hurry and without a word was that I was pregnant. Not your child; I was raped by one of Jeremy’s friends the day after the prom. They were all staying over and were drunk. It was not a pleasant experience, and my parents refused to believe me, preferring to blame you for my predicament. It was terminated, but I was forbidden to see you or even communicate with you. I’m sorry.”
It was a compelling story, but was it true? She also had a reputation for telling the most convincing lies.
“Proof?”
“Ring my aunt in Berne. Go ask Bernard Davies, the guy who raped me, and got paid a lot of money to shut his mouth. And if that doesn’t satisfy you, I’m happy to go to any doctor you choose who will tell you what happened to me.”
Was she banking on the fact that I wouldn’t, that I would take her at her word?
“Why are you here, now?”
“To see you. I want to pick up where we left off, but I’m willing to accept that you might have reservations. If that’s the case, I will try very hard to convince you that there never was, and never will be, anyone else for me.”
“What about your parents, who have this thing against me. Your father never mentioned it, just you and your mother were off travelling. He never treated me any differently.”
“He was like that. I think he hated me more than he hated you. He always said that he had big plans for me, that Jeremy was a waste of space, and when what happened to me happened, all those plans went west.”
“Where is he now. All we know is that he’s taking an extended leave of absence and that the company was in good hands while he was away. Pity he didn’t consider that Jeremy would fire the management team he trusted and install himself as the lord and master.”
“He had to leave because the customers were getting worried about his health. It turned out to be stage four lung cancer. Came to Switzerland for what was touted as a miracle cure, and it wasn’t. I buried him a week ago.”
It didn’t make sense, but nothing the McMasters did ever made sense.
“But before he died, he changed his will and left me with his shareholding, and with yours, he told me we have a majority, certainly enough to bury Jeremy. He doesn’t know yet that Daddy changed his will, and he now just has a minority shareholding. Daddy knew what he was doing and had to wait until he died to rearrange things.”
“You’re too late. He’s all but wrecked the business, and there’s not much left to salvage.”
“Well, all you have to do is resign, and then we’ll see what we see.”
The Elaine I knew had no business sense and was content to spend the family fortune on clothes and overseas holidays before she disappeared without a trace.
Whether the old man changed his will or not, the company had been destroyed in the six months he had been gone, and Jeremy had taken the reins.
If I resigned, it would precipitate the clause that would compel the company to pay back the loan my father had given them.
It would benefit both of them financially as well as get a millstone off both their necks. I couldn’t discount the possibility that Jeremy and Elaine were working together now their father had died, with the idea of maximising their inheritance.
I shook my head. “There is a spare bedroom, you can put yourself there. I have some calls to make.”
“At 4am?”
“The people I know don’t have 9 to 5 jobs. Or the luxury of swanning around Europe without a care in the world.”
“Those days ended when Jeremy stopped paying my aunt for my upkeep. I literally just got off the plane after travelling in coach.” The expression on her face was priceless.
Yes, how the mighty have fallen. She was about to find out how cold and harsh it could be in the real world. “Then have a long, hot shower and get some rest. We’ll talk again later. I’m going back to bed and trying to make up for the interruption. Some of us have to work for a living.”
With that, I went into and shut the door to my room, leaving her standing by the door. If she had any common sense, she would leave. Whatever I may have felt about her, it would not affect my judgment in business matters. It was perhaps the one thing the old man and my father had taught me.
The first call was to my lawyer, who, like me, never seemed to sleep.
His father was my father’s legal representative and was, for a long time, old man McMasters. After the two men clashed, McMaster found a new legal practice to handle his affairs
Alistair Crewsbury was the son, third generation named Alistair, and still had copies of a lot of McMaster’s documents, one of several secrets between us.
What was more important was his father’s notebooks that gave a great deal of detail on McMasters affairs, and particularly relation to my father’s investment, and in the handling of his affairs in the event of his death, and his disbursements to his children, Jeremy and Elaine.
Admittedly, it was twenty years old and may not be relevant, but there was no indication that the old man was dead or that he was in Switzerland getting cured. His cancer, Alistair had said, was real, and he had gone to Europe to be with his daughter and left the running of the company in Jeremy’s hands.
It wasn’t ideal, nor did he trust him, but at the time, blood was thicker than water. I was not blood, but my family had a lien, of a sort, on the business that had to be settled if it wound up or was put out of business
Alistair had said more than once that if the McMasters wanted to get around that lien, they had to run the business into the ground. Until it was worthless.
Jeremy was certainly trying to do that. And it would not leave me with any options.
This much was clear.
Weigh in with the fact Elaine was back on the pretext that Jeremy had cut her off, didn’t sit with the fact her father had gone to see her, on his way to get treatment.
When Alistair answered the phone, knowing who was calling him, he said, “So Elaine McMaster has landed on your doorstep.”
It was a statement rather than a question.
“You know. I don’t think I want to know how. Yes. Some story about being cut off.”
“I believe she sent you the plans for the company’s future. I’m not sure why, because it alerts you to the fact that Jeremy intends to just hand it over to a rival for nothing. In doing so, he will be relieved of the outstanding loans and says liability. It says nothing about the fate of the employees, but you can be assured that four-fifths will be fired.
“He has to get something out of it.”
“According to the consulting accountants, he’s been squirrelling away nearly fifty million in offshore accounts, which he thinks no one is aware of.”
“Can it be proved?”
“Not yet. He’s not as stupid as some would think. He has managed to hire some very clever and very interesting employees to do his bidding.”
“No surprises there. Where does this leave me?”
“Do you care? Your father left you far better off than the McMasters are currently. I don’t think your father ever expected to recoup the money he gave McMaster, and it didn’t bother him. I’m sure if my assessment of you is correct, I doubt it is a concern. It’s probably a principal thing.”
“I care more about the people losing their jobs, as hadvold man McMaster, and I’m surprised he hadn’t done anything to curb his son’s excesses.”
“If you want an opinion, Elaine returning means he died. Recently. I haven’t yet heard from his new lawyer, but they will have to tell us soon. It was a codicil on his will.”
“What if I simply resign and walk away?”
“As you are aware, it would invite a clause in the loan agreement, and given the financial state, you would be blamed for bringing the company down and cause the workforce to be made redundant with no benefits. That at least would leave the McMaster children much better off, and with their reputations intact. Go on leave and watch from the sidelines.”
“It would be difficult. A lot of those people are my friends.”
“Well, here’s a thought. If you could find a way to sabotage the company and not make it a going concern, according to the terms of the sale, the agreement would lapse. The magic expiry date is the 25th, in twelve days. As they say in the classics, the ball is in your court.”
It was. The fact that the blame would rest on me if i resigned and that the McMaster children would get off Scott free was reason enough not to. Best let Jeremy be the reason, through bad management. His advice to take some leave and watch the fun from the bleachers was good advice.
He then added a very interesting fact, that one of his associates had seen Jeremy and Elaine together that afternoon over lunch, having what seemed to be a friendly discussion.
It wasn’t the cheapest restaurant in the city.
I thanked him for his observations.
My second call was to William Prentice, the production manager, and I asked to see him at 9 am.
Staring at the ceiling provided two observations: the first that the roof needed repainting, or I had a slow leak that was wrecking the roof; the second, what was Elaine’s game?
If I tried to think too hard about it, it would probably lead me down the path to hell and damnation. I wanted to believe her, but it didn’t quite stack up. The thing is, a lot must have happened to her in the last ten years.
And that story about Bernard? I would have a chat, but it wasn’t going to be pleasant for him. The thing is, I knew Bernard, and he always had a thing for Elaine. He was also a bully, so if he did what he did, it would be totally in character.
Except Mr McMaster would have killed him, not paid him off to keep his mouth shut. I never had any illusions about the old man. You didn’t get where he was without a few strong-arm tactics
And he would not let any man do that to his daughter and still be around to talk about it.
So, the first job inside the room was to check for any obituary notices for one Bernard Davies and after spreading a larger net than the five towns nearby, found the versatile man, dead from a car accident a week after the prom.
I guess Elaine really did believe I would take her on trust.
Morning dawned, and having got a couple of hours of restless sleep, I decided it was enough and went out to make some coffee.
It was already made.
Elaine was wandering down the passage when she looked up, saw me, and jumped, giving a little squeal of surprise.
“I’m not that scary,” I said
“You are when you’re creeping about like that. Get some more shut-eye?”
“A little. Wouldn’t be the first time I went in more tired in the morning than I was when I went home.”
“Stay at home then. You can reacquaint me with the town.”
“It’s one street, Elaine, and only two shops have changed hands, and they were two you never went to. You don’t need me to hold your hand. You’re all grown up and heiress to an alleged fortune. Well, maybe not so much a fortune, but what was once a great little earner. I have to go in. Besides, didn’t you say I had to resign?”
“You can do that over the phone.”
“You might, but I have principles and integrity. I’ll be doing it in person as it should be done. When I get around to it. I will have to clear my desk.”
I was going to do more than that, but she didn’t need to know.
Elaine wanted to go with me, and I said there was no point alerting Jeremy she was back and plotting against him.
She seemed to accept that, but an odd look from her when I mentioned Jeremy’s name was interesting, to say the least. She would never make a good poker player.
I drove to work as I did every morning, parked in the car space that had my office title on the ground, not my name, and made that walk from the car to the front door
At the hour, nearly everyone on the day shift had arrived, and the car park was quite full. There were 2,500 people working on this particular day in seven of the eight factories and warehouses on this site.
All were dependent on the main assembly line, in building C had been the subject of a dozen lengthy memos that basically pointed out that if it was not stopped for a period of three weeks to perform major maintenance, it was likely to stop permanently
The major maintenance would cost upwards of 10 million dollars, an expense Jeremy had vetoed because he believed it would last long enough for the sale to go through, and then it would be someone else’s problem.
At 9 am, William Prentice arrived at my office, closed the door, sat down and shared a wee dram of a single malt I had sent over from my father’s favourite Scottish whiskey distillery.
At 9:05 a.m., he stood, nodded, and then left.
At 9:10 a.m., my 4 weeks off on annual leave began with a walk down to HR.
As Jeremy’s personally selected employee, he refused. I simply said I would see him in four weeks’ time and left my work phone on his desk before walking out the door.
Behind me, he snatched up the intercom receiver and was dialling Jeremy’s number. The lift door closed before I could confirm who it was he called.
I made it as far as my car in the car park.
Jeremy was coming towards me, the fastest I had ever seen him move.
“Michael.”
I thought about ignoring him, but it wasn’t worth the problems.
I turned and waited until he arrived
“Jeremy?”
“You can’t go on leave. Not right now. It’s imperative the plant remains operational “
“Whether or not it remains operational doesn’t depend on me being here, Jeremy. Last managers’ meeting I believe you said to me specifically, and the others in general, that nothing in this place depended on my being here or in Timbuktu. That being the case, Jeremy, I thought I’d go there to see what happens.:
“Go where?”
“Timbuktu.”
“You’re mad. I was just making a point, Michael. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Well, too late. I’m off. The place can run without me, like you said, the first day you took over as CEO, and you were right. Back then, I had overinflated ideas of my worth to the company. Now I do not. Now, I have to pack a bag and get to the airport.”
As I turned to unlock the car door, a siren ramped up, similar to the one used in London at the time of the Blitz in WW2
Jeremy’s head swivelled around to look in the direction of the buildings, and we could both see workers exiting from them quickly and orderly.
“What’s happening?”
“You’re the CEO, Jeremy, you’re supposed to know everything that happens.”
“That’s why I employ fools like you, so I don’t have to. What’s happening?”
“One of two things, Jeremy. It’s a fire drill, or the main assembly line just crashed. I hope for your sake it’s not the latter.”
“So should you. Go sort it out.”
I shrugged. “I’m on leave. That’s officially now William Prentice’s purview. I suggest you find him, and he’ll tell you what’s happening.”
“If you leave, you’re fired.”
“Sorry, Jeremy. You can’t. No one can. Read my employment contract. Now, you’d better hurry up and see what’s going on.”
The workers were now assembling in the fields adjacent to the car park.
I got into my car and drove off, just as the wailing of the fire service trucks started heading towards the site.
I was half expecting Elaine to be gone, accepting I would resign, and then join her brother to execute the fait-accompli.
Instead, she was sitting in a lounge chair reading a women’s magazine. She looked up when I came into the room.
She didn’t have that guilty look on her face, but a whimsical smile. “You were always the most unpredictable boy I ever knew. And never did what I asked, no matter how politely, or with the most tempting bribes. Did you ever care about me?”
It was an interesting question. I did realise when I was eight that she was trouble and that Jeremy was not above using her to get at me.
“Of course. I loved you with all my heart. And you broke it. It was a pain I felt for a very long time, and in that time, I realised you never really cared about me. So, coming back, laying that story on me like pancake makeup, well, a leopard never changes its spots. Was any part of that story you told me true?”
“It was. I was raped by that moron nnnn, and Daddy had him removed. I hated Jeremy for a long time after that, grateful that Daddy sent Mother and me away. To be honest, I never wanted to come home even more to see you again because I knew how you would react. But Jeremy was a shit about everything and cut off my allowance until I agreed to help him with you.”
“And yet you failed to realise that as my wife, you would be richer than Jeremy or you could ever hope to be?”
“I know, but I left you without so much as an explanation, and I knew that I would only get one chance. Daddy always said that you were too good for the likes of me, that if I didn’t hurt you at first, it would not take long before I did. He was a very astute judge of character, Michael. I came back several times, but when I saw you, I couldn’t go through with meeting you.”
“You could have said hello.”
“No. I knew how you would be when you saw me, ever the optimist. Yes, you’d hate me, but you wouldn’t turn me away, just like now. Just like I knew you’d scratch below the surface and find out what Jeremy was up to. Jeremy believed you were the same naive fool you’ve always been, but I know you’re not. Daddy told me how you kept the place going, how you were the son he always wanted, and how he wanted you and me to be together until that day after the prom. While he never said it, I knew I was as big a disappointment to him as Jeremy.”
I could see the tears, and not fail to notice the break in her voice. It was perhaps a little churlish of me to think for a moment that this was one of her best acting performances.
“For what it’s worth, Michael. I really did love you. Then and now. I don’t think I’ve had any sort of relationship since you that’s lasted longer than a month or two, and I honestly believe there is no one else.”
“Then stay.”
“And how long would it be before you really despised me?”
Using alternate words to Love, Announce, Beautiful, Delicious, and Move.
…
There was something about Felicity that had struck me from the first time I saw her, across a hall, through a crowded dance floor. Had it been the dress, or the way she stood, cigarette in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, casually watching those on the dance floor trying to execute a fluid and in-sync waltz.
Or was it the expression of disdain?
All I knew in that moment she was the one, and it was love at first sight, for me.
A half hour later, after my sister, the reason for the gathering, announced her engagement to Mr Phillip Alexander William Thorogood, she left him to explain himself to her friends and came over to where I had been watching the proceedings.
Her engagement was entirely unexpected by me and our parents.
“So, what do you think?”
“He has too many names, and therefore must be a criminal.”
“He’s English. They all have too many names. It’s their idea of keeping the relatives of the past unforgotten, or something like that. I confess I switched off when he started on the history of the Thorogoods.”
“I hope you will be happy.”
“But you want to know about Felicity. I’ve seen you giving her that look.”
“What look?”
“She interests you. But as beautiful as she appears, I can assure you she is not. With her, beauty is only skin deep.”
“That’s hardly the way you should speak of your friends.”
“She is not my friend, she’s a relative or some such of Phillips, who came with her parents. But enough about her, have you tried the Apple cake? It’s absolutely delicious, if not divine. It’s going to be my wedding cake.”
I shook my head. She had an obsession with apples. “And what did Phillip think of that?”
“He doesn’t know yet, but he won’t care?”
I saw Felicity look in my direction, though I suspect it was directed more towards my sister. I got the impression she was here at Phillip’s parents’ behest, checking her out.
Then, a glance at me, Felicity started walking towards us.
“Oh, dear. I just don’t want to talk to her, so I will move around and mingle. Head her off at the pass, will you, Peter? There’s a good little brother.”
She went sideways, and I headed towards Felicity to head her off at the pass, happy to take one for the team.
….
Now to replace the above key words…
….
There was something about Felicity that had struck me from the first time I saw her, across a hall, through a crowded dance floor. Had it been the dress, or the way she stood, cigarette in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, casually watching those on the dance floor trying to execute a fluid and in-sync waltz.
Or was it the expression of disdain?
All I knew in that moment she was the one, and it was love at first sight, for me.
A half hour later, my sister, Annabel, was called up, after a brief speech thanking everyone for coming, to tell the gathering in her usual coy manner that she had accepted Mr Phillip Alexander William Thorogood’s hand in marriage. Afterwards, like a deer caught in headlights, she left him to explain himself to her friends and came over to where I had been watching the proceedings.
Her engagement was entirely unexpected by me and our parents.
“So, what do you think?”
“He has too many names, and therefore must be a criminal.”
“He’s English. They all have too many names. It’s their idea of keeping the relatives of the past unforgotten, or something like that. I confess I switched off when he started on the history of the Thorogoods.”
“I hope you will be happy.”
“As much as I can see you’re dying to hear all about him, I can see you want to know about Felicity. I’ve seen you giving her that look.”
“What look?”
“The one you reserve for interesting people that won’t have anything to do with you. She may appear to have that certain thing about her, I can assure you, she can be and has been trouble for Phillip and his parents. If you want an opinion, her beauty is only skin deep.”
“That’s hardly the way you should speak of your friends.”
“She is not my friend, she’s a relative or some such of Phillips, who came with her parents. But enough about her, have you tried the Apple cake? It’s one of several cakes the bakers of my wedding cake tendered as a sample, and it’s divine. We’ve practically decided it’s going to be the wedding cake.”
I shook my head. She had an obsession with apples. “And what did Phillip think of that?”
“He doesn’t know yet, but he won’t care?”
I saw Felicity look in my direction, though I suspect it was directed more towards my sister. I got the impression she was here at the behest of Phillip’s parents and checking her out.
Then, a glance at me, Felicity started walking towards us.
“Oh, dear. I just don’t want to talk to her. You use your charm on her while I mingle. Head her off at the pass, will you, Peter? There’s a good little brother.”
She went sideways, and I headed towards Felicity to head her off at the pass, happy to take one for the team. The fact that Annabel didn’t like her made Felicity far more interesting.
Huka Falls is located in the Wairakei Tourist Park about five minutes north of Taupo on the north island of New Zealand.
The Waikato River heading towards the gorge
The water heading down the gorge, gathering pace
until it crashes over the top of the waterfall at the rate of about 220,000 liters per second. It also makes a very loud noise, so that when you are close to it, hearing anything but the falls is impossible.
Well, it’s almost over, and it’s only the first week of the King’s reign.
There’s more, but I think the tale of the wedding might consume another book, with the plots and twists it can bring
And then there’s the coronation and the missing brother. Yes, there’s every chance he’ll be thawed out and brought back to life.
Well, I doubt that can happen, but there is the spectre of his brother hanging over everything, and it’s going to play a part in the coronation.
The summer palace is going to become an international equestrian school.
Ruth is going to challenge all comers to many duels in the sword room.
And prove she’s going to be a force to be reckoned with.
Elizabeth is going to make a bid for the top job, Queen, and our new king is going to have to learn more about the country and its archaic laws, yes, we’re going back 800 years to the original charter when the land was granted to the first King.
I remember another bang, and then it was lights out.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw the sky.
Or I could be underwater.
Everything was blurred.
I tried to focus but I couldn’t. My eyes were full of water.
What happened?
Why was I lying down?
Where was I?
I cast my mind back, trying to remember.
It was a blank.
What, when, who, why and where, are questions I should easily be able to answer. These are questions any normal person could answer.
I tried to move. Bad, bad mistake.
I did not realise the scream I heard was my own. Just before my body shut down.
“My God! What happened?”
I could hear, not see. I was moving, lying down, looking up.
I was blind. Everything was black.
“Car accident; hit a tree, sent the passenger flying through the windscreen. Pity to poor bastard didn’t get the message that seat belts save lives.”
Was I that poor bastard?
“Report?” A new voice, male, authoritative.
“Multiple lacerations, broken collar bone, broken arm in three places, both legs broken below the knees, one badly. We are not sure of internal injuries, but ruptured spleen, cracked ribs and pierced right lung are fairly evident, x-rays will confirm that and anything else.”
“What isn’t broken?”
“His neck.”
“Then I would have to say we are looking at the luckiest man on the planet.”
I heard the shuffling of pages.
“OR1 ready?”
“Yes. On standby since we were first advised.”
“Good. Let’s see if we can weave some magic.”
Magic.
It was the first word that popped into my head when I surfaced from the bottom of the lake. That first breath, after holding it for so long, was sublime, and, in reality, agonising.
Magic, because it seemed like I’d spent a long time underwater.
Or somewhere.
I tried to speak but couldn’t. The words were just in my head.
Was it night or was it day?
Was it hot, or was it cold?
Where was I?
Around me, it felt cool.
It was incredibly quiet. No noise except for the hissing of air through an air-conditioning vent. Or that was the sound of pure silence. And with it the revelation that silence was not silent. It was noisy.
I didn’t try to move.
Instinctively, somehow, I knew not to.
A previous unpleasant experience?
I heard what sounded like a door opening, and noticeably quiet footsteps slowly came into the room. They stopped. I could hear breathing, slightly laboured, a sound I’d heard before.
My grandfather.
He had smoked all his life until he was diagnosed with lung cancer. But for years before that he had emphysema. The person in the room was on their way, down the same path. I could smell the smoke.
I wanted to tell whoever it was the hazards of smoking.
I couldn’t.
I heard a metallic clanging sound from the end of the bed. A moment later the clicking of a pen, then writing.
“You are in a hospital.” A female voice suddenly said. “You’ve been in a bad accident. You cannot talk, or move, all you can do, for the moment, is listen to me. I am a nurse. You have been here for 45 days and just came out of a medically induced coma. There is nothing to be afraid of.”
She had a very soothing voice.
Her fingers stroked the back of my hand.
“Everything is fine.”
Define fine, I thought. I wanted to ask her what ‘fine’ meant.
“Just count backwards from 10.”
Why?
I didn’t reach seven.
Over the next ten days, that voice became my lifeline to sanity. Every morning, I longed to hear it, if only for the few moments she was in the room, those few waking moments when I believed she, and someone else who never spoke, were doing tests. I knew it had to be someone else because I could smell the essence of lavender. My grandmother had worn a similar scent.
It rose above the disinfectant.
She was another doctor, not the one who had been there the day I arrived. Not the one who had used some ‘magic’ and kept me alive.
It was then, in those moments before she put me under again, that I thought, what if I was paralysed? It would explain a lot. A chill went through me.
The next morning, she was back.
“My name is Winifred. We don’t know what your name is, not yet. In a few days, you will be better, and you will be able to ask us questions. You were in an accident, and you were very severely injured, but I can assure you there will be no lasting damage.”
More tests, and then when I expected the lights to go out, they didn’t. Not for a few minutes more. This was how I would be integrated back into the world. A little bit at a time.
The next morning, she came later than usual, and I’d been awake for a few minutes. “You have bandages over your eyes and face. You had bad lacerations to your face, and glass in your eyes. We will know more when the bandages come off in a few days. Your face will take longer to heal. It was necessary to do some plastic surgery.”
Lacerations, glass in my eyes, car accidents, plastic surgery. By logical deduction, I knew I was the poor bastard thrown through the windscreen. It was a fleeting memory from the day I was admitted.
How could that happen?
That was the first of many startling revelations. The second was the fact I could not remember the crash. Equally shocking, in that same moment was the fact I could not remember before the crash either, or only vague memories after.
But the most shattering of all these revelations was the one where I realised, I could not remember my name.
I tried to calm down, sensing a rising panic.
I was just disoriented, I told myself. After 45 days in an induced coma, it had messed with my mind, and it was only a temporary lapse. Yes, that’s what it was, a temporary lapse. I will remember tomorrow. Or the next day.
Sleep was a blessed relief.
The next day I didn’t wake up feeling nauseous. I think they’d lowered the pain medication. I’d heard that morphine could have that effect. Then, how could I know that but not who I am?
Now I knew Winifred the nurse was preparing me for something unbelievably bad. She was upbeat, and soothing, giving me a new piece of information each morning. This morning, “You do not need to be afraid. Everything is going to be fine. The doctor tells me you are going to recover with little scarring. You will need some physiotherapy to recover from your physical injuries, but that’s in the future. We need to let you mend a little bit more before then.”
So, I was not going to be able to leap out of bed and walk out of the hospital any time soon. I don’t suppose I’d ever leapt out of bed, except as a young boy. I suspect I’d sustained a few broken bones. I guess learning to walk again was the least of my problems.
But there was something else. I picked it up in the timbre of her voice, a hesitation, or reluctance. It sent another chill through me.
This time I was left awake for an hour before she returned.
This time sleep was restless.
Scenes were playing in my mind, nothing I recognised, and nothing lasting longer than a glimpse. Me. Others, people I didn’t know. Or I knew them and couldn’t remember them.
Until they disappeared, slowly like the glowing dot in the centre of the computer screen, before finally fading to black.
The morning the bandages were to come off she came in early and woke me. I had another restless night, the images becoming clearer, but nothing recognisable.
“This morning the doctor will be removing the bandages over your eyes. Don’t expect an immediate effect. Your sight may come back quickly, or it may come back slowly, but we believe it will come back.”
I wanted to believe I was not expecting anything, but I was. It was human nature. I did not want to be blind as well as paralysed. I had to have at least one reason to live.
I dozed again until I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I could smell the lavender; the other doctor was back. And I knew the hand on my shoulder was Winifred’s. She told me not to be frightened.
I was amazed to realise at that moment, I wasn’t.
I heard the scissors cutting the bandages.
I felt the bandage being removed, and the pressure coming off my eyes. I could feel the pads covering both eyes.
Then a moment when nothing happened.
Then the pads are gently lifted and removed.
Nothing.
I blinked my eyes, once, twice. Nothing.
“Just hold on a moment,” Winifred said. A few seconds later I could feel a cool towel wiping my face, and then gently wiping my eyes. There was ointment or something else in them.
Then a flash. Well, not a flash, but like when a light is turned on and off. A moment later, it was brighter, not the inky blackness of before, but a shade of grey.
She wiped my eyes again.
I blinked a few more times, and then the light returned, and it was like looking through water, at distorted and blurry objects in the distance.
I blinked again, and she wiped my eyes again.
Blurry objects took shape. A face looking down on me, an elderly lady with a kindly face, surely Winifred, who was smiling. And on the opposite side of the bed, the doctor, a Chinese woman of indescribable beauty.
I nodded.
“You can see?”
I nodded again.
“Clearly?”
I nodded.
“Very good. We will just draw the curtains now. We don’t want to overdo it. Tomorrow we will be taking off the bandages on your face. Then, it will be the next milestone. Talking.”
I couldn’t wait.
When morning came, I found myself afraid. Winifred had mentioned scarring, there were bandages on my face. I knew, but wasn’t quite sure how I knew, I wasn’t the most handsome of men before the accident, so this might be an improvement.
I was not sure why I didn’t think it would be the case.
They came at mid-morning, the nurse, Winifred, and the doctor, the exquisite Chinese. She was the distraction, taking my mind off the reality of what I was about to see.
Another doctor came into the room before the bandages were removed, and he was introduced as the plastic surgeon who had ‘repaired’ the ravages of the accident. It had been no easy job, but, with a degree of egotism, he did say he was one of the best in the world.
I found it hard to believe, if he were, that he would be at a small country hospital.
“Now just remember, what you might see now is not how you will look in a few months.”
Warning enough.
The Chinese doctor started removing the bandages. She did it slowly and made sure it did not hurt. My skin was very tender, and I suspect still bruised, either from the accident or the surgery, I didn’t know.
Then it was done.
The plastic surgeon gave his work a thorough examination and seemed pleased with his work. “Coming along nicely,” he said to the other doctor. He issued some instructions on how to manage the skin, nodded to me, and I thanked him before he left.
I noticed Winifred had a mirror in her hand and was reticent in using it. “As I said,” she said noticing me looking at the mirror, “what you see now will not be the result. The doctor said it was going to heal with little scarring. You have been extremely fortunate he was available. Are you ready?”
I nodded.
She showed me.
I tried not to be reviled at the red and purple mess that used to be my face. At a guess, I would have to say he had to put it all back together again, but not knowing what I looked like before, I had no benchmark. All I had was a snippet of memory that told me I was not the tall, dark, and handsome type.
And I still could not talk. There was a reason, he had worked in that area too. Just breathing hurt. I think I would save up anything I had to say for another day. I could not even smile. Or frown. Or grimace.
“We’ll leave you for a while. Everyone needs a little time to get used to the change. I suspect you are not sure if there has been an improvement in last year’s model. Well, time will tell.”
Queenstown Gardens are not far from the center of Queenstown. They are just down the hill from where we usually stay at Queenstown Mews.
More often than not we approach the Gardens from the lakeside during our morning walk from the apartment to the coffee shop. You can walk alongside the lake, or walk through the Gardens, which, whether in summer or winter, is a very picturesque walk.
There’s a bowling club, and I’m afraid I will never be that sort of person to take it up (not enough patience) and an Ice Arena, where, in winter I have heard players practicing ice hockey.
I’m sure, at times, ice skating can also be done.
There is a stone bridge to walk across, and in Autumn/Winter the trees can add a splash of color.
There is a large water feature with fountain, and plenty of seating around the edge of the lake, to sit and absorb the tranquility, or to have a picnic.
There are ducks in the pond
and out of the pond
and plenty of grassed areas with flower beds which are more colorful in summer. I have also seen the lawns covered in snow, and the fir trees that line the lake side of the gardens hang heavy with icicles.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 