Casino
Volume Three
The Spawater Chronicles
Barry Tighe
Published 2010 by Can Write Will Write at Smashwords
http://www.canwritewillwrite.com
Copyright © Barry Tighe 2010
Barry Tighe asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
The Spawater Chronicles are a series of tales set in the old Roman City of Spawater.
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Casino
Chapter One
‘Bet it does.’
‘Bet it doesn’t.’
‘Fiver?’
‘You’re on.’
‘Boys, boys, calm down. It is early days yet, it may never happen.’
‘Bet it does.’
Joanna gave it up. You cannot interfere when the boys are having one of their drink-fuelled intellectual debates. Best leave them to it.
‘As you wish. Now excuse me, I’m off to join the others in the poolroom.’ Rising, Joanna picked up her wine glass and departed poolwards.
‘Your Joanna is right, you know. It is early days yet. Considering the town hall bureaucracy, the thing could be tied up in red tape for years and the whole idea shelved or discredited before it ever gets the go-ahead.’ Hanif put down his glass in conclusion. ‘Changing the subject, Jady, what are you going to do with your new found wealth?’
It was another evening in Lifeboats’, the nautical themed social and drinking club in the bohemian end of Spawater, the ancient Roman town housing, just about, the legendary Spawater Baths. The regulars were in attendance.
Jady, his partner Joanna and their friends Hanif, Alison, Jenna and young Arnie began the evening celebrating the success of their recent activities. The government, in a fit of fear that the Big Bad Terrorist was going to gobble them up, had inflicted Identity Cards on Spawater as a trial, intending later to spread them across the country like a plastic comfort blanket. Identity Cards, said the government, will show the terrorists we mean business!
Allied to a biometric National Database, it was a lunatic idea, doomed from the start, and Jady took full advantage. The government emerged a laughing stock and Jill and Johnny taxpayer lost a fortune, but Jady and his friends finished quids in. When the world stopped laughing and the tremors died down, the gang met up in The Lifeboat Club, ‘Lifeboats’ to the cognoscenti, to celebrate and discuss spending the money.
The trouble with life, as P.G. Wodehouse maintains, is this. No sooner has one outrageous fortune been dispatched, leaving you with your feet up on the metaphorical mantelpiece at peace with the world, slice of something in one hand and glass of something in the other, than fate sloshes you with a sock full of wet sand and you find yourself head-first in the fireplace once more, spitting cold ash.
The sock-carrier on this occasion was Ron, the owner of Lifeboats’, a man once expelled from Pandora’s Box for depressing the inmates. When Ron’s career as a caterer in the Royal Navy was all washed up a few years back, he sunk his demob pay into The Lifeboat Club and had been treading water ever since. Professionally pessimistic, Ron’s eggs were sunny side down and every cloud had a silver lightning. His arriviste aspirations of hosting a sophisticated elitist establishment hit the rocks harder than a Bacardi with a death wish, and poor Ron found himself adrift hosting the flotsam and jetsam of Spawater. Making just enough money to keep the sharks at bay, his ambition, as he told anyone who would listen, was to find as big a mug as himself flog the place and get his money back.
Secretly, he was rather fond of Lifeboats’, Stockholm syndrome style, and its mutinous members - Captain Bligh would not have liked him - and was as devastated as anyone on hearing the news.
‘Is this true? Come on Ron, go over it again. It surely cannot be as bad as you say; surely they are bluffing to scare you into action?’
Alas, Ron would not recognise a bluff on an ordinance survey map. It was all true. For the benefit of the members as well as himself, he went over it again.
‘As you know, the local office of the Health and Safety Executive has been carrying out an investigation into the condition of my kitchens. As none of us realised, this gave them jurisdiction over the entire premises. I have just this minute received their report which says that the place must be closed forthwith, and certain structural and other alterations must be made before the club can be reopened to the public.’
Ron sighed pathetically. Opening the execution note from the local Health and Safety officer, he had steeled himself to closing his kitchens for a while and spending his flimsy funds on refurbishments, but not this. Paris felt the same when he eloped with Helen and brought her back to Troy. Bracing himself for a stiff letter from Menelaus’s solicitors and a small fine, a walk down to the beach convinced him he was in deeper than first he thought.
‘This would take months and cost a fortune, to say nothing of the lost income for the duration. I cannot afford it.’
‘Surely you can,’ protested Alison, shocked, ‘or surely you can borrow it?’
‘Borrow it? Who would lend me that kind of money?’
‘Well, what about a second mortgage on the club?’ asked Jenna. ‘After all, you own it.’
Ron frowned. This was the killer blow.
‘Normally Jenna, yes, I could get a second mortgage and secure it on the club. But there is a complication. You know Deludo Casinos, the casino people? Well, they want to open a supercasino in Spawater and have made a bid for this club. A low bid. An insultingly low bid. They made it yesterday, before I knew the result of the Health and Safety investigation. I laughed at it yesterday; now I am not so sure.’
‘How does that affect your ability to get a loan?’
‘Deludo Casinos would not offer to buy this place unless they knew the council would let them do what they liked with it. A supercasino would bring in serious funds for the council so they are in its pocket. If I refuse Deludo Casinos, the council will make a compulsory purchase order and force me to sell the club as a distressed building, at a fraction of its market value, on the grounds that it has failed to pass its Health and Safety. Effectively, I have been robbed of my livelihood.’ Ron wiped a table disconsolately; even the microbes on his table-wiping cloth seemed too lethargic to multiply.
‘This place is not big enough for a supercasino, surely?’
Ron laughed bitterly. ‘That’s the joke. They do not want to run my club as a supercasino. Oh no.’
‘What do they want it for then, Ron?’
Ron removed the empty glasses and coasters, leaving the table bare. ‘To flatten it and use the empty space as a supercasino car park.’
‘Tea up.’
Joanna accepted the proffered cup from her Jady, placed it on the solid, low table and sank deeply into her ancient and luxurious armchair. Domestic tranquillity. For the zillionth time she wondered how it was that the domesticated, pleasant-go-easy chappie she had opted to share her life with could bring so much chaos into so many lives. Not the best partner for one who hankered after the quiet life - Jady was banished from Bedlam as a disruptive influence - but an original thinker with more bright ideas than Edison. If any chappie could find a way to save Lifeboats’, that chappie was this chappie.
The club was the centre of Joanna’s social life and its loss would be a blow, certainly, but, she reflected even-handedly, not planet threatening. There were other clubs. However, it was not just Lifeboats’. No, the threatened loss of The Lifeboat Club was just part of the problem. Things were far more serious than that.
Joanna sipped her tea reflectively. Chink, chink.
‘Well, Jady, what do you think?’
Early autumn, the evenings were still warm enough to leave the fire unlit. Nevertheless, the fireplace was the focal point of the room, the television relegated to a subservient position, lower status than even the bookcases.
Jady mimicked Joanna’s tea-sipping. As unlikely a partnership as Ying Chalk and Yang Cheese running an organic tobacconists’, ‘get your vitamin enriched shag here’, they thrived on their differences. Joanna, an altruistic, compassionate do-gooder who carried the world on her shoulders when Atlas was on his holidays; Jady, a social realist who thanked the Good Lord for constructing a world especially for him and became irate when lesser mortals, institutions and governments trod on his money grasping toes.
The happy combination of selflessness and enlightened self-interest made them a formidable force; Joanna found the good cause, Jady found the angle. Had Joanna discovered poor people in Sherwood Forest in the olden days, Jady would have set up Robin Hood Plc, registered it as a charity, put the Sheriff of Nottingham on the board of directors in return for a blind eye, robbed twice as many rich, given to twice as many poor, and squirreled away ten percent for himself. When Joanna complained that the robbed rich were now poor, they joined the funding queue until they became rich again, when they were robbed once more. Everyone a winner.
‘Tricky,’ Jady mused, placing his teacup thoughtfully on the wide arm. ‘It would cost a fortune to refurbish Lifeboats’, and with no guarantee even then that it would satisfy the Health and Safety people at the town hall. Ron does not have the money and as he says, he cannot mortgage the club to raise the cash.’
‘A bit of a coincidence, don’t you think, that the offer from Deludo Casinos came in at the same time as the Health and Safety people closed him down?’
‘Pure coincidence,’ Jady nodded. ‘Well, that’s what the council will say if anybody asks them. Of course, a casino, or supercasino as the government calls it, would bring in a fortune in revenue for the council as Ron says. The council will certainly be on Deludo Casinos’ side. If he does not refurbish the place the council will close him down, and if he does not sell to Deludo Casinos at a huge loss the council will issue a compulsory purchase order and force him to sell at a huge loss.’ Jady clicked his teeth in sympathy. ‘Whereupon the council will sell it to Deludo Casinos, no doubt at a profit for them. Ron is really up against it this time. Lifeboats’ is in trouble.’
‘Do you want to help Ron save the place? Sorry, I know you do. What I meant was, do you think we have a chance? It looks impossible.’
Jady grinned. He knew his Joanna well. She was issuing a challenge, one she was aware he would feel obliged to accept, as the word ‘impossible’, she reasoned, was inextricably connected in Jady’s mind to the words ‘nothing is’. However, Jady considered knowingly, saving Lifeboats’ was not the whole story. Life is never that simple.
‘It is not just Lifeboats’, though, is it young conniving lady? Own up.’
‘Well….’
‘It is your friends at Losers Corner too, is it not?’
Joanna grimaced. The last thing she needed was an argument over semantics.
‘It is not ‘Losers Corner’; it is the ‘Spawater Refuge Complex’. They take in all the victims of society and shelter them until they can stand up for themselves.’
‘That’s what I said: Losers Corner.’
Jady grinned at her over his teacup. They both knew the place was officially called the Spawater Refuge Complex, but both equally knew that it was known to the entire world as Losers Corner, the complex of semi-derelict buildings on the other side of the block from Lifeboats’. Just as conjoined people would forever be known as Siamese twins, and Native Americans as Red Indians, so the half of the block opposite Lifeboats’ was Losers Corner.
‘All right then,’ conceded Joanna. ‘Anyway, it is bad enough knocking down Lifeboats’ for a car-park, but it is even worse for the poor souls in Losers Corner. The council want to knock down the whole block to make way for the Deludo conglomerate’s supercasino.’ She stared gloomily into the cold, empty fireplace. How lonely it looked unlit, not even an ember as evidence of the warmth and life it once held, and would hold again when ignited by a spark.
‘It is wrong, Jady.’ Joanna looked away from the fireplace and into Jady’s eyes. ‘It is wrong to throw out those poor people in the refuge to make way for a supercasino. It is gambling that put half of them there in the first place. Half the others are victims of alcohol abuse, either drinking too much or being battered by drunks, half are drug addicts and the rest are harmless people who just could not cope with life. Now life is about to cast them out and build a gambling den on their last hope. As though gambling can be called life. Gambling is for losers. Deludo Casinos and the council are destroying the weakest people in society to make money. We have got to stop them, Jady. Do you agree?’
Here we go again, thought Jady with resignation. When Joanna forgets simple arithmetic while making her point, it means that her reasonableness has gone west with the wagons once more. Joanna hated injustice and having decided that an injustice was being perpetrated on the inhabitants of Losers Corner, she was going to do something about it. This meant that everyone was going to do something about it, willingly or no. Joanna with the bit between her teeth could outgallop Black Bess on the day Dick Turpin tried to sell her to the dog-food company. And Jady loved her for it.
Joanna pressed her case.
‘Lifeboats’ will be flattened and replaced by a casino car park. That is the ultimate insult. Casinos exist to part fools from their money. The biggest fools end up in places like Losers Corner. It is quite an irony that Deludo want to flatten the refuge so they can increase the need for such places.’ Joanna laughed without humour in a manner that reminded Cruella de Ville of the time she demolished her local kennels.
‘Of course I agree, my petal, we have got to save Lifeboats’ and we gave got to save Losers Corner. The whole shebang. The question is, how?’
‘Public opinion. We raise public awareness; let the people of Spawater know that the most vulnerable section of society is under attack. No, I do not mean Bullet, Jacko, and that Mullins lot from the Lifeboat Club, Jady. They are hopeless gamblers already.’ Joanna spluttered with laughter as Jady pulled the long bow for the Lifeboats’ regulars. ‘I mean the people in Losers Corner. What will they do? Where will they go?’
‘No doubt the council will have to provide alternative accommodation, and the supercasino people will probably pay some kind of resettlement grant for the sake of public relations.’
‘What sort of resettlement? Come on Jady, you know as well as I do that the council will use this as an excuse to get rid of those poor people. They will be resettled in the cheapest part of the country the council can bribe to accept them. Some slum where their problems will be magnified. At least Spawater is an attractive town. If I had to be homeless, it is the kind of town I would choose to be homeless in. If the council closes down Losers Corner the inhabitants will be far worse off, discarded into a dumping ground and left to fester. It could mean the difference between recovering from their problems or sinking even deeper into depression and hopelessness. And breeding it. No, we have to save the Corner.’
‘I agree of course, Jo. I was playing devil’s advocate. The point is that the council will tell the public that the losers are being relocated for their own good so there is nothing for them to worry about. Out of sight out of mind. Public opinion? The public hate losers; it reminds them that they are only a drink or two or a couple of months pay away from joining them. This is a tourist town and the inmates from Losers Corner are an eyesore. Nobody likes them and nobody will miss them. Sorry Jo, I can’t see the public rallying round on this one.’ Lollygagging just inside the gates of Heaven, Charlie Chaplin nodded in sad, silent agreement.
‘I wish you wouldn’t call them losers. They are victims and, as you say, it could happen to any of us. Ok then, what do you suggest?’
‘A smile.’
‘What?’
Jady looked at her keenly. He had been mulling over the situation ever since Ron announced it. Lifeboats’, the epicentre of his social and business life, was under sentence of death from a casino. This could not be allowed to happen. Jady was as patient as the next traditionalist and saw no reason to waste this patience on a bunch of casino chancers. Losers Corner, the local refuge, was facing the same black cap, and up with this his Jo would not put. Joanna hated casinos and disliked gambling in general, but she hated kicking people when they were down even more. Saving Lifeboats’ would mean saving Losers Corner, two for the price of one, but to save Lifeboats’ Ron needed money. Hmm….
‘You want to win, right? You want to save Lifeboats’ so that we can enjoy using it as our second home and my other office. And on the way, you also want to save the hapless inmates of Losers Corner from relocation to a slum that will probably make them slit their throats. Well, you will not do it on a frown. Nor will you do it by fighting clean. Unlike your campaign to save battery chickens, or your fight against Identity Cards, this time the general public will not be on your side. But I will.’
‘What are you getting at?’
‘Joanna.’ This was Jady at his most formal, a tone normally heard only by magistrates on their home ground. He normally calls me Jo, thought Joanna; I wonder what he wants?
‘Joanna, I have half a plan in my mind, a scheme to get some money for Ron so he can pay for refurbishments. But you won’t like it.’
‘So what’s new? I never like your schemes. Tell me the worst.’ Joanna laughed aloud, splashing her tea overboard along with her reservations; she knew Jady would come through.
‘That’s better, keep smiling through, as Vera Lynn would say.’ He drained his teacup. ‘Of course, money might not be enough. If the council really are under Deludo Casinos’ thumb, the Health and Safety could reject any refurbishments Ron made. They could keep the club closed and demand more and more alterations until Ron ran out of cash or died of boredom. Still, it is a start.’
‘Tell me the worst.’
‘Lifeboats’ is one front. Losers Corner is another. Not just the inmates; the place must be crawling with social workers, voluntary helpers and all kinds of people none too happy about the bulldozers popping round. We can find allies there.’
‘Tell me the worst.’
‘Tell you what, how about I go and see Ron tomorrow and put my idea to him, while you visit Losers Corner and see what’s going on there.’
Snap. Joanna sprang up abruptly, swiftly rounded the back of Jady’s armchair and before he could take evasive action held him in a neck lock. Grinning mock-manically as his teacup flew firewards, shattering into fragments and leaves, she delivered her ultimatum.
‘If you don’t tell me the worst right now, I am going to pull your head off.’
Jady told her.
Casino
Chapter Two
Mother Nature is a lousy film director. Day one of any nefarious project should awe the hamlet dwellers with grim, forbidding skies; low, dirty clouds; storm-lashed cliffs casting their long shadows pointedly towards icy, windswept moors; lost souls crying through the ether, and the odd lightning bolt thrown in for luck.
History says otherwise. Both world wars started with a nice day for it. Napoleon wore hat and gloves to protect him from the sun; had it rained at Hastings Harold would have carried an umbrella and kept his eye on the action, whereas Julius Caesar’s mob conquered Spawater and the rest of England wearing sandals. Only poor Doctor Frankenstein got the weather he deserved, and look what trouble it caused.
Sunday afternoon and early autumn sunshine glared eye-stingingly through the large clear windows of the downmarket coffee house near Losers Corner where Joanna waited for her friend Jenna. It was the best Mother Nature could do.
Ignoring the coming-down Sunday afternoon customers, Joanna sipped her coffee and waited, thinking. A Sunday paper lay sprawled in front of her for form’s sake but she paid it no heed. If food for thought had contained calories, Joanna would be consulting its diet pages.
Jady had put his scheme for saving Lifeboats’ to her the night before - the whole scheme - and she had agreed to go along with it, although with more pointless reservations than a C-list celebrity’s agent.
‘Only to save Losers Corner, mind. If it was just about saving Lifeboats’ I would say the cure is worse than the disease.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘But only if the girls go for it too.’
‘Naturally.’
‘And I don’t like you dragging young Arnie into your schemes again.’
‘Try keeping him out of it.’
‘True. He thinks the Sun shines. I don’t like it, but….’
‘Of course,’ agreed Jady hurriedly, relieved to have got the go-ahead however grudgingly. ‘I don’t like it either but it looks like the only way.’
‘And I want half the money you make to go to good causes.’
‘Isn’t saving Losers Corner a good cause? And Lifeboats’? But of course, any money left over from the scheme will go to the cause of your choice, Ron permitting.’
‘No Jady,’ pressed Joanna firmly. ‘Not the money Lifeboats’ stands to make. I mean half the twenty percent of the deal that you expect to walk away with if the scheme works.’
‘Half?’
‘Yes half, Jady, or it is no deal. Agreed?’
‘Half after expenses. Ok.’
‘No again, Jady.’ She grimaced with tolerant frustration, her spirits unexpectedly rising like the Sun discovering to its astonishment that it is the twenty-ninth of February and it has a free run. Joanna saw all.
‘Only real expenses, not made-up stuff.’
This bickering was nothing new between them and typically illustrated Jady’s faith that he could save both their causes and walk away with a profit. Possibly run. Such a belief was infectious. Whatever Jady eventually died of, it would not be confidence failure. It would more likely be a stroke. Of bad luck.
Jady sighed, deflated and beaten. Half was a decent amount and more than he had expected. But it does not do, of course, to look pleased with a deal. It makes the person you have made it with feel cheated.
‘All right then, if you insist. Half it is.’
Joanna wasn’t fooled.
‘On your figures you stand to make a small fortune. In how long? In about one enjoyable year, so don’t pretend you are not delighted. Anyway, your scheme is just about the lesser of two evils. Go ahead then, Jady, start the ball rolling with my blessing. I will sound out Jenna, as if she needs any encouragement. She is as honest as the day is short and will jump to it. And I will check out Losers Corner.’
You cannot beat autumn for starting a new project. Early autumn rocked, judged Jady, striding purposely through the leafy bow-drawn avenues of Spawater down towards Lifeboats’ while mulling over recent surprises. Autumn is golden with natural optimism, ripe with the fruits of earlier endeavour. The pieces of the new project could be set in position before closing nights and shutters signalled the end of initiative for another year. Allow time for reflection over the magical Yuletide, honing the moral considerations, spiritual dimensions and possible legal ramifications, and then it would be all systems go for the spring offensive.
Under sentence of death from those omnipotent heirs to Cromwell, the Health and Safety Executive, Lifeboats’ remained open for the time being pending appeal. The appeal was purely a prevarication exercise by Ron, as doomed to failure as Guy Fawkes’s plea for a pardon on the grounds of diminished responsibility. The desire to blow Parliament to kingdom come was, argued the prosecution, proof positive of sanity.
‘Show a leg, Ron, you have a customer.’
‘Oh hi, Jady,’ replied Ron pleasantly. ‘Can I get you a drink? This one is on the house.’
Jady grabbed the bar to steady himself. ‘Ron, it’s me, Jady. What did you say?’
‘I said can I get you a drink?’ Ron smiled inanely.
‘Have you had good news? You seem….happy.’ Jady was baffled. A happy Ron was a strange and unsettling Ron. The only time Ron looked happy was when he raised the annual subscriptions.
‘Good news?’ Ron shrugged, mystified. ‘Well, I have nearly finished my sentence here. Once my appeal is rejected I will be forced to sell to Deludo Casinos or the council. Either way I will be shot of this place. Now, Jady my old friend, this is for old time’s sake.’
Things were worse than Jady thought. Clearly yesterday’s bombshell had left Ron shell-shocked. This would not do. It was up to Jady to restore Ron to his usual, gloomy self. A doddle.
‘A Euro for them.’
Breaking into Joanna’s musings, Jenna planted herself in the bucket seat opposite, brandishing coffees.
‘You think my thoughts are worthless?’
‘I thought you were a fan of the Euro.’
‘I am, in theory, it just does not seem to work out in practice. By the way, how are you?’
‘Silly me, forgot my manners.’
The friends went through the civilised formalities, drinking large coffees over small talk, and eventually got down to cases.
‘When you called this morning you said you wanted me to hold your hand while you nosed around Spawater’s dustbins, or words to that effect, and that your Jady had a business proposition to put to me. I am intrigued, but why, Joey, in the name of all that is mysterious, have you arranged to meet here? This is the worst street in town; just a row of burger bars and chicken nugget dives with clientele to match. Their idea of salad is a kebab and they think salmonella is a fish.’ She shrugged in dismissal. ‘No wonder the Romans left. Lifeboats’ is just around the block, for a little while longer anyway. Why not meet there for a glass before braving the great unwashed?’
Joanna stole a guarded glance around the coffee bar as though expecting Inspector Clusoe to jump out from behind the cappuccino machine, a learned response to almost anything involving Jady.
‘Because,’ she uttered in a discreet voice, ‘Jady is in Lifeboats’ putting the selfsame business proposition - a plan which can save Lifeboats’ - to Ron, and he needs a clear run at it. If Ron thought you were involved he would jump ship without even giving Jady a hearing. The mixture would be too rich.’
‘Oho, so Jady is up to his usual tricks then?’ Jenna perked up instantly, as though she had mainlined a double espresso. She was addicted to mischief and Jady was her dealer. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised; Jady would hardly let his office, as he seems to regard Lifeboats’, be closed down without a fight. What is the proposition? Is it to blackmail the Health and Safety people at the Town Hall? If so, I am with him.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Joanna sniffed in amusement, ‘but it is just as iffy. Much too iffy to talk about here. He wants you to help him with it.’ Joanna peeped surreptitiously around the featureless retail outlet in case it contained overdressed men with bulging wallets demanding coffee, shaken not stirred. ‘He told me to tell you it promises to be even more lucrative than his last idea.’
Jenna cackled. ‘So when Jady comes up with an iffy idea, he thinks of me. And mentions money. That’s all right; I thought things were a bit quiet around here lately. Spawater hasn’t had a riot for over a week.’
‘Don’t remind me. Anyway, he would like you to come over tonight to discuss it, provided, of course, he can get Ron to agree first. And Alison.’
‘Alison?’ Jenna curled her lip in amusement, sipped her coffee and curled again in distaste. ‘Like this coffee, the plot thickens. Where does Ali fit in?’
‘Ali fits in by supplying publicity and sponsorship, her forte. He is seeing her this afternoon if all goes well with Ron.’
Jenna raised her coffee cup in acceptance. ‘In that case it is settled. If your Jady wants Ron on board, on board is where Ron will be. Now, what time this evening is convenient?’
‘All right Ron, this is how I see it.’
At Jady’s insistence Ron joined him at a quiet table to discuss his idea. He had, so he thought, nothing to lose.
‘All right Jady, I’m listening. How do you see it?’
‘The Health and Safety people will close you down unless you make major refurbishments to Lifeboats’.’
‘Yes….’
‘These refurbishments will cost a fortune.’
‘Go on….’
‘And you don’t have the money.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ Ron’s natural pessimism was coming to the fore as Jady had intended. He needed to get some of Ron’s splenetic crabbiness back into his system so he would stop squeaking the squeak of a helpless mouse and spit the defiance of a cornered rat.
‘And you cannot borrow the money because the council are threatening to condemn the place and make a low compulsory purchase order, then sell it to Deludo Casinos.’
‘I still have a business to run, you know. Now, is there a point to this conversation or are you here to gloat?’
‘Or you could sell up, at a loss, direct to Deludo Casinos and cut out the middleman.’
‘Thank you, Jady, now I am off to run my business while I still have one.’ Ron rose grumpily.
Jady knew he had done enough. Ron was back on fighting form. Now for the pitch.
‘There is another thing and it is very important.’
‘Of course, this Jady thing is intriguing but it does not explain why you wanted to meet here.’
‘True. There is another, related reason. It concerns Losers Corner.’
Jenna grinned. ‘I thought you didn’t like calling it that. You said it demeans the people who need it.’
‘Never mind. It saves time. Now, as you know, when Lifeboats’ is shut down….’ Joanna paused for a lukewarm sip and shudder.
‘If Lifeboats’ is shut down. I thought your Jady was on the case?’
Joanna nodded firmly. With Jenna on it as well Lifeboats’ was floating higher above the plimsoll line every minute. Of course Joanna knew Jady could save Lifeboats’ if he put his mind to it. Once the bookmakers got wind that Jady was on board they would stop taking odds. No, with Jady at the helm, Lifeboats’ was safe. The question was how could she save Losers Corner at the same time?
‘All right, if. Now, if Lifeboats’ is shut down Losers Corner will be shut down also.’
‘And you want to save it.’
‘Of course.’
‘Thought you might. Are you sure that is the best thing for the inmates? Maybe what they need is a bit of tough love. Closing the place down might be the best thing that ever happened to them. It would force them to stand on their own two feet.’
‘No, it wouldn’t.’
Joanna had had this type of conversation with Jenna many times. It was the old chestnut of helping people when they are in trouble, institutionalising them and making them permanently dependent on others. Jenna often made remarks about throwing the homeless out into the snow to see if they made igloos, but Joanna did not take her seriously. She knew, or hoped anyway, that if it came to the crunch Jenna would not let the needy suffer.
‘The council would just move them to some slum, sweep them under the carpet and walk away with casino blood money in their pocket to bribe the electorate. In worse surroundings, the victims’ ability to rehabilitate themselves would be bound to decline and that would cost society and themselves far more in the long run. The new exiles would make the slum even worse for the original inhabitants and then twice as many people would suffer. Meanwhile, the casino itself would produce new losers; gambling addicts who would give all they had to the casino and wind up in a refuge, leaving broken families dependent on charity and the taxpayer. The council would get blood money and the supercasino owners would get rich.’
Joanna had hit the spot. If there was one thing Jenna disliked more than pampering life’s losers, it was subsidising life’s winners. The losers had the excuse of being inadequate, or unlucky, having cracked their shins against the furniture of life, and should at least have shelter, sympathy and the opportunity to regroup their tattered forces and make something of themselves. The winners had no such excuse. They were just selfish and greedy, casting unfortunate losers aside to fatten their already bloated wallets and devil take the hindmost. Buddha would be furious.
‘And you call me a cynic,’ Jenna mused, amused. ‘You and Jady between you want to save Lifeboats’, save Losers Corner, and stymie the wastrel council and the fat casino cats while making a pile of cash. I bet I know Jady’s order of priorities. Ok, it sounds good to me. Besides, casinos owe me one. I was cleaned out in Las Vegas after our triumph with the chickens a while back and it would be nice to take my revenge. How can I help?’
‘Brilliant.’ Joanna smacked her lips exultantly, instantly regretting her spontaneity as it brought back the taste of cheap coffee. Jenna’s response was just what she had hoped. ‘So, you would like to get revenge on casinos? Then Jady’s scheme is right up your alley, as he will tell you tonight. Now, drink up, if you can, and let’s have a look at Losers Corner.’
Ron summarised.
‘Now, let me get this straight. You want to fight fire with fire.’
‘That’s right, Ron. If it is good enough for the Deludo Corporation it is good enough for us. They have spotted a gap in the market and we are going to exploit it.’
Ron contemplated this brash Jady, talking as though it was a done deal. The trouble was, Ron knew to his mounting discomfort that Jady was right. Ron had been prepared to surrender Lifeboats’ without a fight, appeal excepted, and seek to minimise his losses. Jady was offering a better course of action. The trouble was, Jady had learnt his business acumen from the Stephen Potter school of Lifemanship, with a doctorate in obfuscation from Robert Maxwell. Used car salesmen crossed the road.
Ron stalled, he was feeling breathless, a common condition in Jady’s partners.
‘I don’t know, Jady. It’s not that I don’t trust you….’
Jady was suitably shocked.
‘Ron! I am shocked at such shameless lack of faith. Here you are, facing wrack and ruin, and here I am offering a way out at my own expense and at no cost to you whatsoever, and you are hesitating. Did the Spartans hesitate at Thermopolis? No, they manned the bridge and saved the day. Now it is your turn, Ron old pal. Think Spartan.’
‘Where are the Spartans now?’
‘I am not a historian, Ron. It is the future that counts and the future is coming sooner than you think. Just give the word and we will show this Deludo bunch what Spawaterians are made of.’
‘I don’t know, Jady, it is a big step to take….’
‘What would your old comrades in the navy think, eh? Would an old shipmate scuttle himself over a pack of town hall bureaucrats and a faceless consortium?’
‘Well, no, you are right, but….’
‘Of course,’ and Jady backtracked nimbly in a manner that had Fred Astair taking notes, ‘if you would rather surrender without a fight, and let them walk all over you, laughing….’
‘Of course not. This is my club and I will not give up without a fight.’ Ron’s spirit was awoken, his pride stirred and his back stiffened as though it had just spliced a double main brace.
Seeing Ron waver, Jady pressed home his attack. From his heavenly headquarters Napoleon studied Jady’s strategy with approval. ‘Attendez vous moi, milord Cardigan,’ he gloated smugly, ‘there is a time to charge and a time not to charge.’
‘So you will do it? Tell me you will do it Ron. Full steam ahead. Together we will show these council bullies and company jobsworths just what we are made of. England expects.’
Ron stood up. The time for slouching was past.
‘You are right Jady. By heavens you are. I’ll do it, I’ll show them.’ He turned Jadywards, eye-lights aflame, and raised his glass in salute. Nelson would have piped his eye.
‘Count me in.’
Casino
Chapter Three
‘Are you sure you want to go through with this?’
They stood on the outskirts of their objective and, like Childe Roland peering up at the medieval dark tower at midnight, scratching his chin and wondering if he shouldn’t just find a bed and breakfast, looked at their immediate future doubtfully.
Joanna turned to her friend and nodded without enthusiasm.
‘Of course. Now that we’re here, we can’t really turn back, can we?’
‘Wanna bet? No, I don’t suppose so. Lead on Macduff.’
Putting Macduff’s fate behind her, Joanna steeled herself to enter the environs of Losers Corner.
Losers Corner was greater than its name implied. As well as the corner by which it was known, it included a row of run-down houses and an alleyway of sorts masquerading unconvincingly as a narrow street. There were hostels for the unhousable and drop-in centres for dropouts and fell-outs. An assortment of steel-reinforced doorways and childishly painted foyers led to the premises of several organisations and groups set up to house, shelter and protect people who, for a variety of reasons, found themselves unable to cope with the vicissitudes of modern day living. The devil took the hindmost and planted them in Losers Corner.
‘Who lives here, then?’ whispered Jenna, distastefully eyeing the lacklustre bodies sprawled slothfully on the low walls and around the steps, colour washed out by the glare of the afternoon sunshine. Little notice was taken of the two intruders, just a bare glance as if to say ‘here you are, here we are, this is life, this is it, so what?’ They existed in the here and now as if aware Godot was dead. Only in the eyes and behaviour of the small children was there a future as they toddled impassively through the dust and litter, one sock hanging in worldwide regulation baby style, constructing their own private empires. Small children live in a parallel world, still protected by the optimism and will to survive and prosper bestowed on all creatures by a loving Mother Nature.
They make their own entertainment, their natural human spirit unbroken by their surroundings, senses not yet sufficiently formed to smell failure and despair. There was hope for them yet, but not in this alleyway. Even Top Cat would have turned up his toes had he found himself in a place like this.
‘…. If you call this living.’
Ignoring Jenna’s running commentary and feeling as out of place among the glass shards, discarded polystyrene cups and corrugated pizza boxes as the Scarlet Pimpernel at Oliver Cromwell’s birthday party, Joanna pushed past the first few inmates and made her way to the largest foyer some way down. Unlike the doorways, it was open and showed signs of activity.
‘This looks like the centre of the place, let’s see what we find.’
Deprived of her Sunday lunchtime aperitif and confronted instead with the dregs, Jenna paid homage to the god of sarcasm, who preferred to remain anonymous.
‘I can’t wait.’
Like Serpentine swimmers on Boxing Day, they plunged in.
‘Hello?’
‘Han?’
‘Speaking.’
‘Hi Han, Jady.’
Pleasantries exchanged, got to the nub.
‘I know you are as concerned about losing Lifeboats’ and Ron’s sunny disposition as we all are.’
This is it, thought Hanif. From long experience he could see this one coming just as Macbeth had seen Birnam Wood. An all-points alert was sent from his nerve centre to the defence-mode genes.
‘Of course.’
‘Well, I have an idea that will keep the club open and save the day.’
‘I thought you might. And do you want to involve me in it, by any chance?’
‘Sharp as a razor. Well done.’ There was a stage pause. ‘…. Are you busy this evening?’
Hanif’s defence-mode genes woke from their slumbers and hurriedly uncovered the rebuttal cannon in readiness for the inevitable broadside. His hatches were battened down and his mizzen furled. The genes were easy to awaken as they had only been lightly snoozing. Once Jady had announced at Lifeboats’ that something must to be done to prevent the place closing, Hanif’s defensive genes were placed on standby, code amber. When Jady said something must be done, like good King Edward, he did not mean he should do it alone. Oh no, when Jady wanted something done, it was done by whosoever was in town on the wrong day, unhampered by considerations of friendship or duty. Brutus knew the feeling.
‘Let me get one thing straight, Jady, before we begin. I am as keen as you are to save Lifeboats’. However, I am not prepared to break the law to do so. It will be precious little consolation, languishing in my cell at Broadmoor, to know that Bullet, Mullin’s lot, Jacko’s mob and the rest are having a good time. Therefore, if your scheme has anything to do with blackmail, intimidation, bribery, tax evasion, burglary, fraud, impersonation, computer hacking, masters of disguise or any of the weapons in your armoury that I have not thought of, then forget it. I do not wish to know. Nor do I want you press-ganging any of my staff into working for you so that I end up having to bail them out to save my own career. In other words, Jady, unless I have your solemn word that there is nothing smoky whatsoever about your idea, I will put down my phone and this conversation will go no further. What do you say?’
Had it been illegal Jady would not have asked Hanif in the first place, knowing what a stickler for the proprieties he was. The rapacious behaviour of big business was costing the Earth; governments were starting insane wars based on lies, and the planet was divided between those dying of starvation and those dying of pizza, but Hanif would not cross the road against a red light because he thought it dishonest.
‘No worries, my morally superior mate. It is all above board and Spawater fashion. Totally legal, they cannot touch you for it. And Ron is on board…. sort of.’
Jady instantly regretted that last remark. True, Ron was on board, just, but Ron did not know the whole story. Had he done so he would not have boarded at pistol point. This, of course, was precisely why he had not been given the whole story. What Ron did not know wouldn’t hurt him. Probably.
‘What do you mean, sort of?’ jumped in Hanif suspiciously.
‘Well,’ Jady recovered, ‘he is supplying the premises but not taking an active role. Jenna is in on it too, Jo just called and said Jenna will be here tonight. Once we have agreed the details I will put the idea to Alison. We need her too. And, if you agree, young Millado.’
‘Arnie?’ Hanif’s defence-mode genes were struggling in the midst of shot and shell. First Jenna, a women after Jady’s heart if his heart had a market value, then Alison, who all the world knew could lead Hanif down the primrose path to oblivion by widening her eyes, and finally, his assistant, Arnie. Arnie would do anything for Jady, his speciality being getting into scrapes and having to be rescued by Muggins. Hanif was besieged on three sides. And Jady called this legal! Shuddering to think what Jady would consider below the belt, Hanif fired a flimsy riposte.
‘Just tell me one more time. Is this truly and fully legal? If not, my involvement in it begins and ends here. On your honour, Jady.’
‘On my Honour, Han, it is truly legal. In fact, if it works, it would be worth writing a book about how it was done.’
‘Something to read in the prison library?’
Jady tittered confidently. A witty Hanif was an unafraid Hanif, a Hanif up for the fight. Fear withers wit. Bob Hope aside, you cannot dance with knocking knees.
‘See you tonight then? Eight o’clock?’
It was inevitably, so Hanif bowed to it. ‘Eight it is then.’
‘Thank you for your help, you have been most informative. See you soon.’
Joanna whispered her goodbyes to the volunteers in the refuge, and with a bored and indifferent Jenna retraced their steps along the alley, through the derelicts and around the corner back to the real world.
‘Well, that was fun,’ announced Jenna with relief to no one in particular. Even the sunshine seemed softer away from the harsh glare reflected from the alabaster clad alleyway. The two walked briskly, putting Losers Corner behind them physically, if not emotionally,
‘What better way to spend an idle Sunday afternoon. If it gets boring we can always visit a cancer ward.’
Joanna sympathised. Jenna, she knew, had experienced a difficult upbringing herself and had come through it with minimal help from anybody. A lively if occasionally cruel sense of humour, full awareness that life is often absurd and a belief that humanity will come through eventually when it learns to live and let live kept Jenna stable. She was equipped with emotional defences to rival the Maginot Line without Belgium. Underneath her apparent callousness ran deep rivers of understanding for anyone in genuine need. This explained her affection for young Arnie, Hanif’s assistant, whose parents’ messy divorce had not killed his natural zest for life. Jenna’s philosophy owed more to Friedrich Nietzsche than Mary Poppins. Humans are designed by God or Nature to be resilient, she believed, and should not spend too much time in counter-productive negativity feeling sorry for themselves.
They parked themselves back in the dingy coffee bar and continued their debriefing.
‘I know what you mean, Jen,’ Joanna agreed, landing the two cups of instant on the Formica, ‘but surely you agree that when you are down on your luck you need all the help you can get?’
‘Not necessarily, Jo. If you trip over you might appreciate a helping hand up, but you do not need to be carried everywhere for the next six months. People adapt to their circumstances and after six months of being carried would not feel like walking at all. They would expect to be carried everywhere.’
‘True, but the people in the refuge have not just tripped up; they have gone through emotional and sometimes physical hell.’
‘Get over it, that’s Auntie Jenna’s advice to those whose ego has taken a knock. Worse things happened to Cinderella but it didn’t stop her dancing.’
‘But Cinderella had her fairy godmother. Gotcha!’ Joanna raised her cup in triumph, vindicated. ‘That’s my whole point. She would never have made it to the ball without help. Just as the people in the refuge need help.’
‘True….’ Jenna conceded. Never knowingly nonplussed, she continued, raising her voice in eagerness to put across her point. ‘But look at the help Cinders got. The VIP treatment, sure; all the mice she could possibly require as escorts and a carriage made out of the finest pumpkin magic can buy, but only up to midnight. When the clock chimed, she was on her own. If you were Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother….’
Jenna faltered as she became aware that she was the centre of attention. Such flights of fancy were seldom heard among those whose souls had never soared. There were no fairy tales on the wrong side of town and no happy ever afters. The only escapism available here was scored from the dealer.
‘Go on,’ grinned Joanna, suppressing a snigger. The eavesdroppers were not threatening, just sad.
Jenna was by no means shy - Groucho often thought she hogged the attention - but there are places to make a scene and places not to make a scene. Making a scene in a downmarket coffee emporium was not her scene. ‘Well if you were,’ she persevered stoically, just about keeping a straight face, ‘you would be at her constant beck and call and she would take you for granted. She would never clean another fireplace in her life and end up as a worthless parasite.’
Jenna looked around, the clientele looked away. She wished she was in Lifeboats’ where such nonsense passed unnoticed or was benignly regarded. Anything went in Lifeboats’, on the other side of the block, and that’s where she felt at home. Lifeboats’ must be saved and if that meant saving Losers Corner and the human rejects who scratched an existence there, so be it.
‘Mind you, I didn’t think much of her shoes.’
Joanna raised her eyebrows. She knew when she was on a winner.
‘But she needed help in the first instance. Agreed?’
‘All right, Jo,’ Jenna conceded, ‘you are right. Now, how are you going to save Losers Corner?’
Jenna was almost right about Jady’s list of priorities. He wanted to save Lifeboats’ first and foremost, the Losers Corner second because Joanna wanted it saved and what Joanna wanted, Jady wanted on her behalf. Making cash out of the scheme came third. After all, if Lifeboats’ wasn’t under threat he would not need to save it whilst earning a crust at the same time. He could make cash in any number of others ways and usually did. Stymieing the council and the Deludo casino owners were both happy side effects but of little importance to a born general. When Napoleon marched on Moscow he did not do so because he was trying to shift a job lot of winter underwear and snowshoes. That was just happenstance
He was back home, staring thoughtfully into his cellar and wondering how he could persuade Arnie to help him clear it out as part of the scheme. He had earlier called Alison, who had agreed to meet him Monday afternoon in a coffee bar near her place of work. Not in her office, as Jady was persona non-grata. Alison’s bosses, or cheeses, had had dealings with Jady before. Stage one was completed, Ron would go along with the plan. At any rate, Jady chuckled, Ron would go along with what Ron thought was the plan, and that was good enough. Shadows matter more than substance when you are creating a false impression. Enlisting Hanif and Jenna tonight was stage two and looking good. Arnie would go along with anything Jady suggested and so did not qualify for a stage number. Alison did, though if Joanna and Jenna were in on it she would join in as enthusiastically as a convention of Tiggers. Alison was enthusiastic about everything, and her remarkable ability to get anyone to do what she wanted them to do and like it was indispensable. Alison was vital for stage three.
One of his and Joanna’s closest friends, Alison Smedley was a stalwart of Lifeboats’ and possibly the dizziest person in town since the Spawater Baths whirlpool was closed by the Roman Health et Safetius Senate after the mass lion drowning during the old games. Alison was as otherworldly as Mars and Saturn; her logic could confound Confucius and her thought processes would make Freud and Darwin abandon their theories, burn their books and join the circus. In a sane world Alison would have kept as far away from the world of commerce as Brer Fox from Colonel Kentucky’s dustbins. Fortunately for Jady’s scheme, this was not a sane world. The qualities that required Alison to have a Plimsoll line drawn around her bath and her groceries delivered by standing order were perfectly suited for her career. Alison worked in advertising, marketing and brand promotion. She was totally relaxed, highly original, innovative and successful, and thereby duly respected in this other, unreal world of adrenalin-fuelled fabrication, flitting like a window-shopping butterfly between professional brand building and reality.
Alison combined the above qualities with a heart so gentle it refused to beat, preferring instead to sweet-talk her blood gently around her system on tiptoes, blood cells with no locks, corpuscles running free, delivering a glow to every organ in her body so none felt left out. As loving a human being as ever cuddled a kitten, she let drivers in ahead or cried watching The Snowman, and was loved by all who knew her. She was also the next link in Jady’s plan. The scheme needed financial backing and it was Alison’s job to get it.
Casino
Chapter Four
‘Welcome aboard. Glad you could make it.’
Jady greeted Jenna at the main door of the large town house, the ground floor of which he and Joanna shared. The upper storey was inhabited by a couple who by and large kept themselves to themselves, although Upstairs Mike, the male half of the couple, had once trapped Jady in his own cellar after misunderstanding Jady’s designs on his wife. All lager under the bridge.
Jady led Jenna through the shared hallway and into Chez Guevara, their apartment, and parked her jacket on a railing above his pride and joy: a huge faux Ming vase used by all as an umbrella holder.
The spacious living room was kitted out like Jady’s mind; cupboards cluttered with objects which might come in useful one day but probably won’t, and overstuffed with whatever objects d’art took his fancy. It was difficult to negotiate unless you were familiar with the settings, and all on a dense, woolly carpet. It had delusions of grandeur, tastes above its station - in particular, solid oak of England period furniture and ornaments whose rightful origins were buried with the Empire - and could be the most disdainful snob, but it was also solid, dependable and safe. Joanna had long since despaired of clearing it out and accepted the living conditions as the Tower accepts the ravens. The furniture and Jady needed each other.
‘All right, Jady,’ declared Jenna, accepting the inevitable cup of coffee alongside a large plate of biscuits. ‘What’s the plan?’
Initial greetings over, Jenna waited for Jady to pass Joanna her coffee at the north end of the huge chaise longue and settle down in the armchair opposite. She knew the gist of the plan, of course, Joanna had given her a taste, and she now was looking forward to the whole meal. Knowing Jady, there was always a chance of indigestion.
‘Did you enjoy yourself in Las Vegas?’
‘Like the curate’s egg, I enjoyed it in parts as you well know. I enjoyed winning and I did not enjoy being thrown out of the casinos.’
A couple of years back, after a campaign to take the pain out of chicken farming led to omelette in the streets, Jenna had found it prudent to take a short vacation. She travelled to Las Vegas and tried out her card counting skills, acquired through reading up on the various successful techniques devised in the nineteen sixties and adapted for the eighties by mathematicians from top American universities. They were devised to legally hornswaggle the casinos at Blackjack. Jenna was good; the casinos were better. When the fourth casino threw her out before she had even reached the tables, Jenna worked out the main flaw in her plan. What worked in the nineteen eighties had no chance in the twenty-first century. The casinos, having lost millions to professional card counting gangs, had wised up.
‘Remind me, why were you thrown out?’
Jenna winced. Jady was opening old wounds. She had worked hard on her card counting and took pride in her ability to beat the House in a fair game, but modern technology had rendered her skills redundant before she even had the chance to properly use them. That hurt her, and reminded her that on rare occasions life can be less than scrupulously fair. Had Julius Caesar arrived on the beach at Margate to be met by machinegun fire he would have felt the same emotions.
‘As I believe I may have mentioned before,’ replied Jenna in a strained voice as if asked where she was on the night of the sixteenth inst, ‘I was card counting on my own. Ideally, card-counters work in teams; one counts the cards and informs others by code words and signals, and at the right time the Player makes large bets with the odds in her favour.’
‘So what went wrong?’
‘Nothing, at first; I scooped a few good wins.’ Jenna may have been rumbled eventually but she had her professional pride. ‘The trouble is, this was noticed. It is difficult to count cards and look relaxed at the same time. That’s why you need at least one partner. Your partner plays minimum bets to stay in the game, losing slightly on average, counts the cards and tips the wink to the Player when it is right to place a large bet. The Player does not need to count and so can talk and drink and look like a mug punter.’