The General

…

We are now going to look at the individuals who are national heroes, looking to do some good in the twilight of their lives.

They have a name, they have a reputation, and it’s a recognisable commodity.

Selling range rovers or enticing young adults to join the armed services isn’t quite the post-service career move he was looking for.

The trouble is, he never got the opportunity to get rich like some of his contemporaries, and what there was went on a gambling addiction that just about took everything when he retired.

But the question is, is the General the person he portrays himself as?

Truth is, he needs to find a very well-paying gig.

And just lurking in the background, fuelling the rising trust issues between father and daughter, why is Agatha’s father promoting this particular celebrity?

…

What are friends for?

…

Well, when they too have the rug pulled out from under them, how much can they do?

Her best friend and fellow founding member of the charity, recently but no longer CEO, due to the new Chairman who had taken over during our main character’s incapacity, had been visiting her friend in hospital and relating the day-to-day events that had turned the running of their organisation into what she calls a circus

I’m going to give her a daughter who is a tenacious reporter and set her on the trail of a conspiracy, that of the so-called benevolent charities and the shady characters that manage to attach themselves to what she will call the charitable gravy train.

She also is the product of that echelon of people who are upper-class nobility, having resented from a young age being called Lady So and So, going to the privileged schools and being treated differently.

She is the rebel against her birthright, her parents, and everything they stand for.

And yet, as she gets older and sees the worth of those connections, those she had so willingly trashed for the sake of getting an editor to take her seriously, it’s going to be a tricky line she will have to walk if she is going to help her mother.

Perhaps her parents were not the monsters she believed they were.

…

Words today, 1785, for a total of 8946

The days you wish you didn’t have children.

…

Children are meant to be the joy in your life, not the bane of your existence.

Of course, keeping the secret from their father might have seemed like a good idea if not out of spite in the beginning.

But the truth was he left, and that was on him.  It was not as if he was going to hang around, not after telling her that it was not the time to be having children, not with her wild partying or the fact he was trying to move on after his stint in the Army and that overseas deployment that had severely scarred many of his friends.

Yes, they were perfectly matched, and both agreed they both soul mates and kindred spirits, but it was not enough to keep them together.  Marrying him to spite her father had the reverse effect, and she still suspected her father had bought him off.

But, whatever the reason, she was left with the parenting, delegated to nannies, then boarding school and servants.  It was no wonder they hated their forever disinterested and absent mother, and because of the bored, mischievous miscreants who were constantly in the news and police stations.

Their latest antics were mild compared to previous escapades, but the school could always see a fundraising opportunity.  And being sent home yet again to consider their situation was all she needed.

Fresh out of her latest and longest stay in hospital, the full extent of her situation was becoming clear.

…

Words today, 2294, for a total of 7161

Suspicious circumstances

…

It’s a matter of getting from a normal busy life, running a very successful and very well-regarded institution, that from the outside was one everyone was envious of to where she is lying in an induced coma following an accident that is still being investigated.

Perhaps we get a glimpse into the detective who will be later called on for a more complex investigation into her life and sadly death.

The question we have to ask is, was this just an accident as a result of her poor health, some were saying a result of her wild childhood early years of dung and alcohol abuse (the privileged life of the youth of the elite wealthy being paid back in spades) or something else.

Is there something about charities that’s not all above board?  With a new management team installed by her father, is the money getting to those who need it, or is it to pat the names needed to be in the high-profile donors?

It strikes me that ages ago when I was talking to a group of others about making donations to a charity that had a high-profile person as spokesperson it had to be good if they spoke on behalf of it for nothing in return.

My illusion was shattered in seconds.  That personality was paid plenty to spruik the charity, drove around on a large expensive car provided, and hosted endless lunches and functions for those who seemed to live an already lavish lifestyle.

It’s a premise I am investigating and will use as a possible outcome to what should be a beneficiary-orientated charity versus one that is there to principally serve the high-profile spruikers.

…

One of those mornings

…

We’re unravelling the mystery behind the slow deterioration of our main character.

When did this mysterious malady first manifest itself?

The point here is that there is always a starting point or a catalyst.  It might not always be pinpointed by the person but by someone else who can look from the outside and assess all of the evidence.

And it’s not always an easy task when you don’t really know when it first began because it creeps up on you without you realising it.

Until one morning, you can’t get out of bed.

Of course, there are convenient answers to Amy’s question, and in moments of extreme paranoia, only one name will come to the fore, the name of the person you hate the most at the time.

And then it’s not difficult to attach the reasons to that name, correctly or not.  In her debilitated state, it was easy.  Whether she could prove it, was the hard part.

…