Million Pound Appointments

by Higgins, Malcolm

  "Oh, no actual talent then. You still here?"

  Karen comes to the door, and although her first meeting with Ken couldn't exactly be described as being a particularly cordial affair, she's now the perfect hostess.

  "Welcome welcome welcome, you found it then?"

  Noz closes his eyes, and sighs as only a man that has been with the same woman for far too long can. No matter which one of their houses they are occupying at the time, South of France, Beverley Hills, Brazil, Florida, Basildon, she always greets their guests with 'Welcome welcome welcome you found it then?' But as much as that annoys Noz, his counter of…'No they're still driving round the fucking block woman' annoys her even more. Karen has been with Noz for twenty-two years, but before that she was with everybody. Think of a famous musician, actor, footballer, or photographer, and she's had a relationship with them. Not because she was the most desirable woman that ever walked the earth, she wasn't, but because The Daily Telegraph, The Daily Mirror, and the Express, put her on their front covers, claiming wrongly, that she was the latest 'It' girl, the latest 'model' of the world famous photographer, Justin Tobias Burkhart. The reason for that mistake was that she was seen coming out of a Club with him. When actually, she was working as a pushbike courier who just happened to deliver rolls of film to him and he thought she had an interesting face. JTB invited her to watch and maybe help him on the photo shoot which was for 'Vogue Magazine' taking place at the Groucho club that morning. She wasn't about to complain to the Editors of the newspapers though. Doors start opening for you when you've been mistakenly called 'his latest girlfriend'. Things were different in those days. In those days, she would go to an album release party with the photographer, and a famous actor or footballer, would recognise her, and want to add her to the notches on their bedposts. She'd tell the photographer she was off to one of the bedrooms, because the famous actor or footballer, 'wants to fuck me' and the normal response would be 'Cool baby have fun'. She'd end up living with the actor or footballer for a few months, until she caught the eye of the next one. She lived that life from the age of seventeen, to forty-three, when she met and married Noz.

  "What part of I don't like you, and, are you still here, aren't you getting, slob?" Asks Noz.

  "Oh stop it you two." Says Karen. "Come through to the library Ken, we can talk in there."

  Noz looks Ken straight in the eyes, which was mistake number one.

  "I'm not talking to this dickhead…"

  Mistake number two, and the last mistake he'll make today. Calling Ken a slob is one thing, calling him a dickhead… well, it just isn't done. All the sparring sessions with the bronze Chris Eubank in the evenings pay off. The following three seconds, Noz doesn't know what's hit him. It was a kidney punch, a left hook, and a right uppercut. Ken and Larry step over the unconscious aging rock god, and begin talks with a rather turned on Karen in the library.

  Driving home, Ken's face turns from happy to angry as he replays his meeting at Seventh Heaven, inside his head.

  "Answering the door in your underpants, can you believe that? I fucking hate Americans."

  Larry pulls a puzzled face, as he tries to call to mind a documentary he watched a couple of years ago.

  "Do I look like the type of man that would sit through a business meeting with someone only wearing fucking knickers?"

  "Americans? Asks Larry. "Are they Americans? I don't think they are you know. I'm sure he's from the midlands or somewhere. And can you really call being marched out of a house with a shotgun up against your neck, a business meeting?"

  "She said yes didn't she?" Says Ken.

  "Well… yeah. I suppose."

  "Then it was a business meeting. Shut up."

  A business meeting, that was cut short by a rather dazed and confused shotgun wielding Noz. Even though Noz had no recollection of being knocked unconscious by Ken, he felt that something must of happened to him, as he had a loose tooth, searing pains in his back, and a bump on the back of his head the size of a golf ball. It must have something to do with these two strange men in his house, laughing and joking with his wife, and as Ken wouldn't deny he and Larry had anything to do with his injuries, the pair of them were frog-marched out of there.

  "After this job, I'll have Tommy tit's money, and I'll…"

  "Let them go?" Larry cuts in.

  "Well…" Ken answers, screwing his face up.

  "Well what? You said you'd let them go." Sulks Larry.

  "Yeah yeah… we'll see."

  Chapter 9.

  Ken enters the house looking for Jane and eventually finds her in the bathroom having a bath. She isn't about to take any chances, and is removing any possibility of 'Extract of Craig' from wafting up Ken's nostrils. He starts to urinate in the toilet. He's dying to tell her his good news, but he's also trying to play it cool at the same time, which lasts for all of five seconds.

  "You know I said I'd ask her for a million quid, just to see what she'd say?"

  "She didn't say yes?"

  "She bloody did."

  "No way." Gasps Jane. "A million pounds."

  "Each?"

  "Each?"

  "Yep, they're coming here Sunday."

  "Oh my god that's brilliant Ken." She says with her hands under the water and between her legs desperately trying to remove Craig's semen with her fingers. Jane knows what making money does to Ken; it makes him as randy as hell. He finishes and flushes, and begins to undress.

  "Let some water out." He says.

  "Why?" Jane says, hoping it isn't because he wants to get in with her.

  But when he stands up and she sees he's erect, she knows that's exactly what he wants to do. Jane's face desperately wants to pull a 'I don't believe this' look, but she doesn't. She has to think quickly, she has another man's sperm swirling around inside her, and Ken can hold his breath under water for almost two minutes, and often does.

  "Hurry up. Pull the plug."

  "Oh better not Ken, time of the month and all that." She feigns.

  Ken puts his hand in the bath and pulls the plug.

  "Well that my love, is why god blessed you with two holes between your legs."

  Larry and Craig are in the guesthouse. Larry is trying to read Sir Roger Moore's autobiography, but can't really get into it. Craig is playing Golf on the Wii.

  "Watching your brother being strangled to death." Says the syndrome.

  "I know. That was amazing wasn't it?" Answers Craig.

  "What was?" Asks Larry.

  "Watching the boss strangle the Paki."

  Larry can't believe what he's just heard, and throws Sir Roger Moore's book at Craig, just missing his head.

  "Amazing? It was anything but amazing." He screams. "And he's an Indian from India."

  "Jesus, calm down man. I don't care if he comes from Timbuktu."

  "No I won't calm down, don't tell me to calm down. I've had it up to here. They're treated like animals, no one knows their names. Ken constantly calls them what's-his-face and the-other-one. I'm sick to death of it."

  "Well do what I do, call them Ant and Dec."

  "You better not be calling them Ant and fucking Dec."

  "Why? They don't mind."

  Larry just rubs his head in frustration and sits down. He doesn't want Rajeev and Amir treated with contempt. They're nice men. Family men, but he knows he's powerless to stop it. He's even thought about helping them to escape, but knows if Ken rounded them up before they could take flight, he would get how they escaped out of them in two seconds flat.

  "I can get you some uppers if you like." Craig says, genuinely trying to help.

  "Uppers? Fuck off I don't even take aspirin if I've got a headache."

  "Well more fool you, you fucking idiot. If I've got a headache, I keep taking them till it's gone."

  Ken enters the room with a big smile on his face. Craig swallows hard. He'd forgotten that he was as good as raped by Jane a couple of hours ago, it had finally left his tormented mind, but now it's back.
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  "You're looking happy boss." He says, testing the waters.

  Ken raises his eyebrows up and down.

  "And why wouldn't I be? I've just fucked my beautiful wife in a lovely lavender scented bath."

  Before Ken's words register in Craig's brain, he manages to stick his foot in his mouth. Big time.

  "Who has?" He says. Then it registers. He quickly tries to compose himself.

  "I mean have you? That must have been nice boss, shit; I didn't mean it like that boss, I meant, you being married to her and all that, having her on tap sort of thing, shit; I didn't mean that either; the tap thing, being in the bath and all that, it wasn't like a joke or anything. I don't know why I said that really. I don't know why I'm even speaking now. I'll shut up."

  Luckily for Craig, Ken can't make sense of his incoherent claptrap, and walks over to Larry. Craig sits down and sighs with relief.

  "I'm handing them over to you." Ken says to a fed up Larry.

  "Who?"

  "What do you mean who? What's-his-face and the-other-one."

  Larry is about to complain again, but Ken carries on. "Tell them a few more jobs, maybe seven or eight."

  "Seven or eight?" Snaps Larry. "You said, and I quote. 'Once Gunga Din has done his voodoo on old big bollocks and his missus, they're history.'

  "I know I did, but I'd like to make some money out of them as well Larry, people like him don't drop into your lap every day of the week you know."

  "I knew it." Sulks Larry. "You've got no intention of letting them go have you?"

  Ken knows he can make serious money with Rajeev and Amir, and he'll hold onto them for as long as he can. If Amir does what Ken thinks he can do to the Millburn's, they'll tell their friends, and he won't need Marcus anymore. Ken's Googled the Millburn's, and practically knows everything there is to know about them, but right now he needs to pacify the flea in his ear. A certain Mr. Lawrence Lawrence.

  "I'll work him like a mule ok? A couple of weeks and they're out of here, satisfied?"

  Sarcasm is lost on Ken sometimes, but Larry uses it anyway.

  "Working him like a fucking mule? Yeah that makes me feel much better Ken, cheers. I can't wait to tell them."

  Craig has given up playing golf on the Wii, and is watching Ken and Larry bicker, and is thinking about jokingly saying, 'You two are like an old married couple' but luckily for him, there isn't a pause long enough to allow him to. Ken hands Larry keys to the padlocks holding Rajeev and Amir.

  "Can I let them walk around the garden? They've been stuck in that room for days Ken" Asks Larry.

  Ken thinks about it and is about to say yes, when he spots a fly in the ointment.

  "No, they'll do a runner."

  "Oh." Says a deflated Larry. "Can they call home then; let their families know they're safe?"

  Ken thinks about it and is about to say yes, when he spots a second fly in the ointment.

  "No, they'll tell them where they are."

  "Oh." Says Larry. "How about letters, can they write letters?"

  Ken thinks about it and is about to say yes, when he spots a third fly in the ointment.

  "No, it'll have the post-mark on it. Think Larry, think."

  "So what exactly can I do for them?"

  "Anything you want, Jesus I thought you'd be happy."

  Larry huffs again and gives up.

  "How's what's-his-face English coming along?" Asks Ken.

  "His name's Amir. Rajeev and Amir." Shouts Larry.

  Craig's adrenaline levels are reading chock-a-block and he's about to do the old married couple gag, when Larry continues.

  "Or we could always call them Ant and Dec, like that fucking div over there."

  "Oi, I heard that." Says Craig, not realising Larry's sarcasm just saved him a trip to the hospital in an ambulance.

  "Fair enough." Says Ken. "Ant and Dec it is. Much simpler."

  Ken leaves the room shutting the door behind him. Larry stares at the door hoping Ken will reopen it and pop his head around the door and say 'Only joking' but it stays firmly shut. He turns to look at Craig.

  "He knows I was joking right?" He shouts.

  "Do you know what? Says Craig as he stands up. "When you're asleep, I'm going to stuff uppers down the back of your throat, you miserable old sod."

  Larry pushes Craig out of the way and heads for Rajeev and Amir's room. He's wondering what he'll tell them when he gets there. His mind becomes a total blank as he waits outside the door. He's trying, but failing, to get into a positive frame of mind. He wants to walk in there and give them a lift, tell them that there's light at the end of the tunnel, tell them that they can go home soon, but he knows, unless he comes up with a full proof escape plan; which let's face it, is a million-to-one shot, they're going nowhere. Larry lets himself into the room with a big friendly smile on his face. Rajeev and Amir scamper into the corner with their ankles chained together. Larry's smile wants to run away and hide. It doesn't like the sight of two gentle, polite men, scampering into the corner. Craig has been taking their meals to them each day, and he's wondering what the hell he must have been doing to them.

  "It's ok it's only me." He says, just managing to stop his smile from running away. Larry then realises he is standing over Rajeev and Amir, and sits down on the floor with them. His plan is to just open his mouth and whatever comes out, comes out.

  "I'm going to make sure you get paid for what you're doing. I know it doesn't make up for what you've had to go through, and I know you've been treated horribly since you've been here 'Larry get up; you're going to India' that's all I got. I didn't know what he had in mind for you, not really. I've told Ken the violence has to stop too, and he's agreed. So let's just get him his money and get you two back home to your families."

  Nothing. No response at all. Rajeev and Amir just sit there.

  "I'm looking after you from now on. I'll bring your meals up to you. I've told Ken the way he's been treating you has to stop. He listens to me, so you'll be fine now."

  Larry hands a key to Rajeev. It takes a second or two for Rajeev to realise he is holding the key to the padlock. He hurriedly unfastens the chains. Amir jumps up and stands over Larry. The last thing Larry's thinking is that Amir wants to take the chain and wrap it around his neck and kill him. But Rajeev does. He jumps up and forcefully walks Amir away from a puzzled Larry.

  Chapter 10.

  A shop door, opening, hits a small bell hanging from the doorframe alerting Taxidermist, Mr. Evans (35) a meek and mild man working in his studio at the back of his shop, that he has a customer.

  "Good timing." Mr Evans says to himself as he puts the last eyelash meticulously into place. He walks into the shop and sees Daz holding the door open for Tommy Rae, who slowly walks into the shop, stops in the doorway, turns his nose up at all the stuffed animals and the rather peculiar smell.

  "Where is he then?" Asks Daz.

  "Sorry?" Answers Mr. Evans.

  "Silver Lining. Where is he?"

  "Ah, you must be Mr. Lawrence Lawrence."

  Tommy Rae puts a hand on Daz's arm; he knows Daz would like to explain, as only he can, that he isn't Mr. Lawrence Lawrence.

  "It's out the back, in the studio. I've quite literally just finished it."

  Tommy Rae thinks about letting go of Daz's arm, he's not keen on having his beloved Silver Lining described as an, it. Tommy Rae nods to Daz to go and take a look, and he and Mr. Evans leave the shop. Tommy Rae looks at all the stuffed animals and shudders. He looks at an owl perched on an ornamental branch. He looks closer, and hesitantly pokes the owl with a finger half expecting it to take to flight. He's then startled by a small monkey in an attack stance with razor sharp little teeth, in ruby red gums snarling at him from behind a glass dome.

  "God. You ugly little fucker." Says Tommy.

  Daz and Mr. Evans come back into the shop.

  "It's beautiful Mr. Rae." Sighs a thankful Daz. Thankful because he had no idea what he was going to find in the studio.
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  "Thank you." says Mr. Evans.

  "Thank you? What do you mean, thank you? Is your name Mr. Rae?" Barks Daz.

  "What? No. I was just…"

  "Then why when I said its beautiful Mr. Rae, did you say, thank you?"

  When Daz meets new people for the first time, he likes to show them how hard he is. Let them know which rung of the ladder they're standing on. Not that they need to be told. The man is six foot four and built like a brick out-house with lemon juice instead of saliva in his mouth.

  "I was simply saying, thank you, that's all."

  "Get out." Daz shouts at Evans.

  "Get out?"

  "Yeah, get out."

  "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you mean. Get out where?"

  Tommy Rae knows that Daz is simply being the alpha male. Wants to be the top dog. Tommy Rae says in a slow fatherly voice…

  "Daaaz. Noooo."

  "Wait out on the street, on the pavement, until we've finished." Daz shouts at Mr. Evans.

  "Daaaz." Says Tommy.

  Mr. Evans knows something is going on, but isn't sure what to do or say.

  "In the street? I don't understand. Why? I'm really not comfortable with waiting in the street."

  With hardly any effort at all, Daz punches Evans on the chin, knocking him unconscious to the floor.

  "No? Well put your feet up there for a while then."

  Daz will never have to hit Mr. Evans again. Not now that he's properly introduced himself to him.

  "Take me to my baby." Says a nervy Tommy Rae.

  They step over Mr Evans and walk to the back door that leads to the studio. Daz opens the door, and a strong powerful light hits Tommy Rae in the eyes.

  "Sorry about that Tom, it is a bit bright in there. He says he needs it like that for the eyelash work."

  "A bit? He says angrily. "It feels like someone should be shouting 'halt who goes there.'

  "Sorry Tom. I should've warned you."

  "Yeah you fucking should have."

  When no one else is around, Daz will call Tommy Rae, Tom, but in company, it's usually Mr. Rae, which he does to reinforce Tommy Rae's authority and position in the underworld. Tommy Rae closes his eyes and walks into the studio with Daz. In the middle of the room is Silver Lining, a magnificent racehorse. Tommy Rae slowly opens his eyes and melodramatically breaks down. Daz comforts him.