Back in the Game: With All the Effing Trappings

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ISBN: 978-1-5439201-9-2

Prologue

The early nineties

The last couple of years have been a difficult time for Alek and by the way he only answers to his nickname Lek. Mind you, he’s been called other names in his time; anal cunt, cocky bastard, fucking know it all; Cliché; but this didn’t worry him. He is an Alfie type character and a true entrepreneur; made a fortune twice with property and lost it through boom and bust Britain; politicians and greedy banks.

He is a philosopher, a staunch Atheist, Freudian and a self-taught psychologist, and whenever the occasion rises, he jumps right in at the deep end and analyses his friends and acquaintances problems; extending his own brand of humour and deep and meaningful advice. With his positive attitude, strength and tenacity and his finances on the mend he was energised. But there is still the fact that for far too long his sex life has been zilch.

Lek drops into four people’s lives like a meteor from the sky and becomes totally embellished with their problems.

RODNEY. – An estate agent, he spends far too much time in the office. He has, at the moment, two branches but wants to expand and become a player in the big league. Hardly ever at home and always; as he continuously put’s it busy busy busy; totally neglecting his wife and two children. He dreams of bigger and better things and worries about keeping up with the Jones’s. Totally oblivious to what he’s doing to himself and his family. A bites off more than he can chew type. The lesson learned here is; a man’s grasp should be just beyond his reach.

CLAIR – Rodney’s wife, extremely pleasant bordering on old fashioned, but very attractive. She’s depressed and feels totally neglected. Why shouldn’t she, Rodney is always away on business, he doesn’t pay any attention to the two children or her. She needs stimulus, wanting nothing more than to share some special moments and experiences with her husband, but alas he’s never there. What can she do to fill the gap her husband has created by his absence?

TONY is a multi-millionaire, 39 years old, a self-made man from a humble background. He’s learned the hard way and acquired a certain amount of taste on his travels. He lives in one of a small stretch of mansion type houses close by to film Director Michael Winner. The neighbourhood was scattered with celebrity’s and in close proximity lived Brian May Queen guitarist, Simon Cowell, and Dire Straits Mark Knofler; not to mention Richard Branson.

He is always quietly confident in himself and considers himself successful. Nuevo rich he’s climbed the ladder of success and now feels he can be associated with the upper classes.

There’s not much he hasn’t experience in the bedroom, but at his time of life he finds it sometimes difficult to get a hard on; so engages himself and his partner into sexual fantasies. Being somewhat perverted he yearns to play them out. One big downfall is that he doesn’t trust his girlfriend and is riddled with jealousy and constantly accuses her of being unfaithful, yet he instigates threesomes and likes watching her being taken by other men. It causes pain and pleasure simultaneously, which thrills him. I would class him as a mind sadist; rather than a physical pain sadist. He is oblivious as to how much his jealousy and mistrust upsets his girlfriend Miranda.

He had demons to fight, his childhood continues to haunt him. Never knowing his father was the one profound thing in his life he couldn’t come to terms with; this was perhaps a clue to his strange sexual tendencies.

MIRANDA – Essex girlfriend of Tony. Thanks to Tony, she drives a convertible BMW, and frequents the local beauty parlour and maintains a tan all year round. Often abroad with Tony or in the Knightsbridge tanning shops. She is very grateful for what she’s got and shops till she drops. Due to Tony’s sexual fantasies and perverseness she’s in a confused state of mind, one minute going along with it, the next minute questioning it. A did I jump, or was I pushed scenario. So far she gone along with everything and enjoys it for what it is.

Being unfaithful doesn’t even enter her head, but the jealousy and mistrust from Tony is really getting to her. Sick to death of being accused; she’s frightened to be herself and another thing; why is she always looking over her shoulder.

JEFF – a restaurateur. He lives in West Kensington and owns his own restaurant, which is also located in West Kensington. Often trying to infiltrate social circles which are far beyond his own financial status. A pretentious guy who thinks he has an air of grandeur about him. Whether he is trying to impress himself or his wife Vanessa; he’s not quite sure, but he has become obsessed with being recognised for being successful and wealthy.

VANESSA – Jeff’s wife, a stunning looking girl but quite naïve and vulnerable. Reason being the long association and relationship she’s had with Jeff. Unfortunately, Jeff’s pretentious ways have slowly rubbed off onto her; she has been falsely nudged to go along with him, putting on a false front with those she mixes with. Frequently creating various hobbies and involvements that she’s not the slightest bit interested in. Deep down she knows this goes against the grain, but for the sake of her marriage and her husband’s business she maintains this false façade. She’s trapped and knows it; engulfed in a world of pretence.

Often feeling as if she is going to explode and confess to the rest of the world that all that they are portraying is false. Sadly, because of her naiveté; the social circles in which they mix already know this. The pressures are becoming unbearable for her, there seems no way out and no turning back; or then again; maybe there is?

SIMON – the accountant is a bore; he tries to mix it in social circles but can never crack it. The poor sod didn’t get out enough, but getting out was not his forte. Brought up in a middle class background and having went to public school, he attained his degree and was generally guided and prepared for life by possessive and obsessive parents.

He is fanciable in his own way, insecure but on the whole is honourable and honest and takes things in his stride.

The over possessiveness regarding his parents has left Simon in quite a vulnerable position; and that’s not being able to build his own character, make his own mistakes in life and learn by them. Indeed, you could say he has no street cred. He’s the type that nicks other people’s witticisms and jokes, tries to repeat them and totally fucks up.

This is his way of trying to draw attention to himself, but it has the opposite effect; he lacks the personality to carry it over. Insecure in his relationship with his girlfriend Helen; inside he knows they are incompatible.

HELEN – also has a middle class background; went to public school and had very possessive parents. Pushy parents never giving her a free reign to realise her own true potentials.

She has become another victim of over possessive parents that choose to steer their children through life’s safety tunnel. This from day one is a manipulative force, a dangerous force many parents pursue in order to gloat in the feedback of their own egos. Helen has always had the urge to travel and works for a leading fashion Company. Being a buyer her numerous trips all over the world has helped her gain an extensive knowledge of Asia. Now twenty-eight years old she’s realising the full impact of a Pushy Mummy and Daddy, and beginning to resent them. In an effort to break free of this overpowering parenthood, she has rebelled and indulges in cocaine and other drugs. Of course Simon is totally unaware of the antics his girlfriend gets up to. Making mistakes and sleeping around; often with black, muscle bound drug dealers who control doors in club land; she now recognizes her problem. It’s a precarious situation; what does she intend to do about it?

DEDICATED TO FRIENDS

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter one

You’re a handsome bastard he said to himself as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Having just got out of bed and drooping around half asleep and naked. That was when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He straightened up, pulled some utterly stupid faces, pulled his stomach in and flexed his muscles; gesturing to himself with Sergeant Major authority.

Yes it’s you I’m talking to, you Lek; you handsome bastard; now stand up straight and get ya shit in gear. He was going through a phase of insecurity and a lack of confidence due to his girlfriend’s decision to abandon him; just after he was made Bankrupt and lost millions. Now there’s a coincidence.

To make matters worse, not only was she gone but the circle of friends they mixed with went with her. Yeah you guessed it, loneliness kicked in; and all but his old friend Peter had sided with her.

Lek was a realist and was of the opinion that you can fool anybody but not yourself and was hankering for what once was.

This bout of depression and lack of self-esteem and confidence was unnecessary; it was all in his tiny little mind and gone on for too fucking long. He was a good looking guy, had a thick head of hair and a chiselled physique. Still when you’re in a glass half empty mode it’s not easy to snap out of.

The bathroom mirror was about to be on the receiving end of another piece of his mind. Halfway through brushing his teeth, with mouth smothered in toothpaste he paused.

I’m lonely alright, there I fucking said it, I admit it; but changes are coming.

Exiting the bathroom and feeling a little more confident, a little more invigorated; he spoke to his bed. And you my friend will in the not too distant future had better expect some action; and make room for two on that semi hard mattress of yours.

On went the radio, She’s gone, She’s gone Darryl Hall and John Oats were on his case; and on hearing it he now engaged himself in conversation with the radio. Yeah that’s right; for fucksake; you don’t have to rub it in.

His back drooped, he sighed and it struck him Oh fuck me I must be lonely; I’m not just talking to myself; I’m talking to the fucking furniture.

Being a property entrepreneur he had just gone through two of the worst years of his life as boom and bust Britain went in full circle and left him wallowing in the bust.

Fortunately, he was gifted with an uncanny sense of change within the property market and he’d just finished converting a rundown cottage with an acre of land.

This purchase wasn’t a matter of luck; as the Estate Agent took a back hander and gave him the nod. At two hundred and sixty thousand; he bought it for a song. It was all he could afford but with his mind’s eye insight, construction and design skills, a careful budgeting programme; this little cottage was now a very large desirable family home.

It sold quickly making him ample profits to purchase a much larger house for him.

The type of house he had become accustomed to when times were good. He remained in touch with Estate Agent and details of one such house was emailed to him. Newly on the market this three storey house was in what he described as in a right state; run down.

In fact, it was so run down that it frightened many property dealers away as they had no expertise in refurbishment.

As far as Lek was concerned the house was a shithole with potential.

So he did what came naturally and the price was haggled down accordingly; and he eventually what he would describe as nicked it.

The old cliché location location location was as true now as it ever was and this house was in a high end area; it had a small overgrown front garden that would be perfect for parking a couple of cars.

Parking spaces in London were becoming extinct and worth a fortune, yes this house had enormous potential. His profits from the cottage also enabled him to pursue other projects and he had a couple on the go; and a few in the pipeline.

Losing no time, he drew up plans for his newly acquired house and renovations were near completion. Until it was finished he made do with staying in a small Boutique Hotel room in Notting Hill Gate.

This was perfect for the time being as his new house was just a short distance away in Holland Park. He was a natural when it came to hunting out a deal, he was a seeker and dosh was never far from his mind.

Being a Jack the lad, and having expensive tastes; his main priority was drumming up money to pay for the refurbishment of his newly acquired house.

Whilst on the subject of newly acquired he had over a period acquainted a new circle of friends, it was early days and he was still getting to know them, picking possible new friends with scepticism.

Having trod carefully and patiently he met three potentials; three guys he could begin to trust. So far the three of them had minimal get together’s and still in the process of feeling each other out.

They were all in their thirty’s and Lek in due course was to discover they all had their personal demons to deal with.

He needed to get out and about, needed some fresh air so a trip to Portobello Road was in order. Stretching, he finished his ablutions and dressed. He wasn’t picky when it came to clothes, didn’t need to be; he was tall lean and muscular and looked good in anything. So nothing too fancy, a pair of Lee Jeans and white Tee shirt.

He phoned for a cab and was soon on his way. This little trip was going to be the beginning of an exceedingly raunchy chain of events.

The Portobello Road was his regular and favourite haunt and always offered up potential bargains especially at the Notting Hill Gate end of the market.

In the past when he was holding folding he’d done many deals; so this meant he knew many of the local stall and shop owners.

As he meandered down the middle of the road, his peripheral vision caught site of a couple of guys carrying a very ornate and very large Asian pot.

Grey matter ticked over and a deal was formulating, he meandered over towards the two guys and followed them from the back of their van to an Asian furniture shop; aptly named Mr Asia. Another pot matching the one that was being carried sat on the pavement outside the shops doorway.

When a potential deal arose Lek was instantly energised, and he would spring into action. Tony pinged in his brain, Tony was one of Lek’s newly acquainted friends and was on the lookout for two ornamental features of some sort; one on each side of his entrance portico.

This pair of pots was perfect., as he stood admiring the pots a short thin Indian man appeared from the shop, he was wearing a multi coloured kaftan and sported a wide grin displaying a set of intermittent yellowy brown teeth.

When engaged in conversation he spoke with one of those mumble jumble bloody blimey Indian accents. People were more often than not fooled by Mr. Asia’s appearance, but not Lek. He knew Mr. Asia was a seasoned business man; certainly no mug. They had a history together and Mr. Asia recognised Lek from times gone by when he was a big spender.

Mr. Lek how are you doing, long time no see? They shook hands. Hiya Mr. Asia I’m just admiring these two pots.

Yes sir, and very very nice matching pair. Scoffing and trying to look disinterested; Lek asked.

What sort of money you asking?

It’s a matching pair and that’s very very rare in itself, you don’t get too many of these coming up for sale.

Lek shot him a friendly grin Alright Mr very very; enough with the very very sales patter, how much are you fucking looking for, what’s your bottom line on them?

I’m looking for two and a half grands for the pair, he raised his index finger and remember they’re not always available in pairs.

Lek raised his index finger as if to embark on an index finger dual.

Mr Asia the price has to be lower, I’m shopping for a friend of mine and he asked me to keep an eye open for something exactly like this, so Mr Asia if the price is right we could be talking a deal, hold on let me make a call.

A deal was formulating in Lek’s mind, an opportunity to earn a quick bit of bunce. He thought. If I can buy these for two grand, and Tony would go to two and a half grand I would earn myself a quick monkey, a quick five hundred quid.

Reaching into his pocket he took out his mobile phone and dialled Tony’s number.

Hi, Tony, how’re you doing beat Yeah, I’m fine.

Listen, Tony, I’m down the Portobello Road. You know you told me to keep my eyes open for a nice couple of ornate pieces to enhance your Portico and entrance hall.

Yep

Well I’ve seen exactly what you want, two rare ornate pots and better still they are a matching pair, one for each side of your entrance. What I want to know is how much you’re prepared to go?

There was a pause Two grand top whack really was Tony’s reply.

Needed Tony to part with a bit more dosh., sales patter was required.

These are exactly what you want but it’s got to be more than two grand, don’t miss out mate; I think I can buy them for about two and a half G’s. The guy selling is Indian and a bit of a tight old bastard.

It’s more than what I wanted to pay Lek, but if it’s a deal breaker issue I’ll trust your judgment; okay I’ll go with two and a half grand.

Okay, good call Tone, I’ll battle on and try to slap his hand, I’ll phone later to confirm and give you the full SP.

Great.

Okay, bye Tone. Lek turned to Mr Asia and spoke with a hint of Indian accent in jest. Now, what’s your very very bottom line Mr Asia?

I’ve told you Mr. Lek its two and a half thousand pounds.

C’mon you’re having a laugh; two and a half grand is half a grand too much.

I never joke about money.

Lek nudged him and shot a cheeky grin. You’ve got a face like a smacked arse I’d say you never joke about anything.

This remark actually brought a smile to Mr. Asia’s dead pan face.

He laughed exposing his teeth; which resembled a row of condemned shithouses. It was time for Lek to make his move.

I can’t see them being worth that.

It was Mr. Asia’s turn to reciprocate with his cheeky grin.

Oh you can’t see their value eh? Well your fucking eyesight must be a bit dodgy, here put my glasses on.

At least I got the tight old git to laugh thought Lek. Now his smiling I’ll carry on the momentum and keep the humour up.

I’ve had bad eyesight ever since I was a kid due to wanking with my hand in my pocket. Pocket Billiards my Dad called it.

Mr. Asia obviously related to what Lek said and burst out laughing.

So did I, and still do Mr. Lek.

Lek scratched his chin Mm that makes us a right pair of wankers.

Mr Asia doubled up with laughter which was good, exactly what Lek planned. Mr Asia’s guard had dropped and he was now pliable, Lek got serious in a sarcastic kinda way. "Surely you can do better than two and a half thousand Mr