A Tour de Fate

by P R M Kinloch

  “Just a visit, Dad, that’s all.”

  “Oh. I see. To what do we owe the honour of this visit, then?”

  “I just... I just wanted to see how you were. You and Mum. See if you were, um, wanted... anything.” Monty realised the last thought allowed his father to tear him to bits – for having run off in the first place, for having stayed away so long, for apparently not caring or bothering at all throughout, and for seeming to turn up now on what could be just an afterthought.

  “You didn’t think of that all those years ago, did you Son?”

  Here it comes, Monty braced himself. Dad winding himself up as usual.

  “I thought of many things then and over the years, Dad.” He countered.

  “That’s nice. But you didn’t think of the mess you left behind, did you?”

  Monty steadied himself. “I didn’t know what else to do. It seemed best.”

  “Leaving me to clean up as usual.”

  Monty was silent.

  “Do you know how much you have cost me?”

  “I’d like to talk about that. Whatever it is, I can -”

  “Can you imagine the indignity of what you put me through?”

  “Dad, I was trapped! I had no option!”

  “You had no option! You ran away! That was your option! Got you nicely off the hook, didn’t it! Leaving me on it!”

  “I didn’t know what else to do! I needed time to think!”

  “You mean I brought you up to run away?” His father roared.

  “No!” Monty shouted back.

  “Then why didn’t you come to me?” The older fox demanded, as if arriving at the question he had waited the years to put.

  “Because... Because I had no option! And it seemed... I don’t know... as good a way to leave as any, I suppose.”

  Silence. Monty knew his father was marshalling thoughts for another go at him. Monty got in first.

  “Was I that bad? Really? You seemed to think I was. I never had much in the way of –You never – For a long time, I’d...” Montague faltered.

  “Is that why you ran away? Because of me?” His father asked.

  “No!” Monty shouted. Or was it? He wondered, struggling to answer. “It was – I was - Because I was confused. I had to -”

  “Because of the mess you made. And you couldn’t face the responsibility of cleaning it up!” The old fox’s voice was rising again. Another lashing was coming. Montague played the only real card he thought he had.

  “Dad. Children leave home!” He shouted. “They are born to do that.” His anger waned. “It’s life,” he added. He didn’t want to be angry. Not with his father.

  His father’s anger came. “Yes, but there are ways of doing it!” He railed, but there was anguish also. Montague heard it, and broke.

  “I didn’t do it very well, did I?” He said softly. “But Fullon gave me no options. None that I could see at any rate. And I’d only make it worse if I stayed.”

  He was not at war with his father. On the contrary, he had come home to make peace, to put things to rights if at all possible – though he didn’t know how - and then he would leave. Be gone again. This was not his life here. This place was his father’s. So, even though he had walked out of his family life here before, and no matter what restitution might happen now, there was place for only one at the head of the family. And he, Monty Stump, needed to be – was - his own head now. He had to leave again.

  In the pause that followed, his father finally gave just a simple, quiet invitation. “You want to tell me about it?”

  His father had just said what? It could really be said that he, Monty, had left, had taken whatever lunatic opportunity had come, just to get away from a father who never, ever, made such an offer.

  “Yes, Dad, I do. I would like that.”

  71 GETTING IT STRAIGHT

  Monty grappled with how to begin his side of the story and then settled for getting the worst part over as quickly as possible. He asked what Fullon had done immediately following his own departure.

  This of course produced a stark reminder of how little his parents knew of his life in those days. They had never known Fairly Fullon from the point of view of Monty’s generation. The young partying set doing the rounds of Diddling had no reason to break ranks and inform parents of what went on at a Fullon rave any more than they had of letting anything be known of their other misdemeanours.

  Following the gambling win, Fullon had moved immediately to secure everything destined for Monty, and the appearance of lawyers at High Aytus demanding Fullon’s rights to the estate was a confusing surprise. The absence of Monty to deny the claim was a devastating humiliation. And then that same absence of Monty, being used by those lawyers as a substantiation of Fullon’s claim, had been the final bitter pill. Caught off guard, Alfred Stump’s legal team, once assembled, had only managed at best to delay proceedings. Fullon would have rights to nothing of the Stump estate until the passing of Stump Senior, but would meanwhile be entitled to Montague’s annual allowance.

  On the subject of the allowance, the Stump camp was at least able to wrangle successfully for the allowance to be paid only on the last day of each year, starting one year from the date of signing.

  “Not that your allowance was any significant amount, but that was another win.” Said Stump Senior.

  “Another win?” Cried Monty. “It looks like just one straightforward loss to me. And it was due to greatly increase when I came of age.”

  “Oh, yes. But I wasn’t going to tell them. And they still don’t know.”

  “Ah! Nice one! But still, Dad, you’ve been paying this all the time? You’re being very civil about it, in view of what I’ve been costing you.”

  “Not really, Son. Well yes, I was livid at first – as you may well imagine. But to be pragmatic about it, there was the obvious thought that had you been here, you would have been spending it as you liked anyway. Hm?”

  He crooked his head knowingly at Monty, “So it was already destined for him by the sound of things. Hm? Skin off your nose really, not mine. And a delayed yearly sum makes it even less of a burden. The next payment isn’t due until -”

  “Well, Dad, Look.” Interrupted Monty. “I can pay back everything he got.”

  The older fox again crooked his head in a questioning look.

  “I’ve not been idle, you know.” Monty began. “I think you will be pleased with what I’ve been doing all this time.”

  Monty wanted desperately to show his parents how well he had done, and was now mature, sensible and well established in his own right.

  “Suffice to say I’ve earned a reasonable fortune of my own. Got a house down at Wallop as well - but that story needs to wait. There’s something far more important to tell you.” With that, Monty brought his father up to date on what he had learnt of Fairly Fullon’s downfall with the crooked pinball machine.

  Alfred Stump seized on the news and looked at his son in a new light, commending him for not hiding behind the news about Fullon or using it as an excuse for his own actions and reasons for leaving in the first place. He said that Montague’s honest explanation of his own actions meant a great deal to him and restored his feelings towards his son. Then he ploughed into immediately wanting to alert his lawyers to end the lien Fullon was holding over the High Aytus estate and sue for the return of all ill-gotten gains. Montague had anticipated this part. He asked his dad to hold off, or at least delay any action for a day or two.

  “Why?” Asked his father in surprise. “Listen Montague. The sooner we put an end to his nonsense the better. We don’t want this hanging over us any longer.”

  “I agree, Dad. But would you mind? There may be a far better - no, well, at least, a simpler way to reduce the, you know, what is going to be a lengthy and costly court battle. I mean, look, if you can just give me a couple of days on this? I’m not sure exactly, but two days should be enough. I’ve just got something I want to work out.” He cut his father off from respondi
ng “Listen Dad, I fully understand. We can sew him up in court with this, for sure. I’m not trying to stop that. But it will take time anyway, you know, to assemble, find witnesses and all that. What I’ve got in mind may save an awful lot. Just... As soon as I’ve got it sorted, I’ll let you know. If I can work it out, good. If not, well, considering that he’s been living on borrowed time – and money - for so long, a couple more days makes no difference.”

  “What have you got to – what could you possibly -”

  “I made a promise. That’s all, Dad. Just a couple of days and I’ll tell you.”

  The only promise Monty had actually made was the one to himself about the bed. Not exactly the important issue of the moment. However, if his father went for lawyers, it would be a grim and tedious battle. The bed would be lost for sure, whether of vital significance or not. However, the whole thing had given Monty another idea. It would need the cooperation of his parents and his friends. But before discussing it with his parents, he needed to see what his friends thought. It would take a lot of help and organising from everyone, and only if they all agreed would it be possible. On top of that, trying to achieve so much in two days it was as crazy as the idea itself.

  He took his leave and raced to the café. The sun was climbing steadily.

  72 GAME ON

  Monty burst into the café. No customers. He went straight through to the kitchen. A young kitchen hand, a spaniel, followed him.

  “Ex-um-Excuse me,” the boy began, but Josh looked up from making pasties and said, “S’all right, James. Say hello to Mr Montague Stump. Monty, this is James. James Coaker. You remember his dad? ‘Cooky’ Coaker?”

  “Cooky! Oh my, yes! Hi, James, yes, your Dad went to school with us. How is he?”

  The boy’s face dropped, as did his head. “Dad died last year, Mr Stump.”

  “Oh, James! What happened?”

  “Hornets got him. So I’m, um...”

  “James is my apprentice. Aren’t you James?” Josh cut in quickly. “And he’s doing fine!”

  “I am sure you are, James. Any son of ‘Cooky’ Coaker is bound to do well. I’m awfully sorry to hear you lost your Dad. That’s a tough one. Are you the eldest, James?”

  “Yes, Sir. Three younger than me.”

  “Ah,” said Monty, “How much younger?”

  “Um, ’bout five m-um-minutes, all up?”

  “Very good! So are you the man of the family now?” Asked Monty.

  “I try to be. Mum’s got a part time job, so we...”

  “So you don’t starve. But this job here is important for you, I bet?”

  “Yes, Mr Nunt helps us an awful lot.”

  “I bet he does,” replied Monty, giving the lad a knowing wink. To Josh, he said, “Knowing you, Josh, I’m quite sure you would. Um, oh. James? did you want to talk to Josh?”

  “No, Mr Stump.”

  “OK,” to Josh he asked, “Have you got time to talk?”

  James took the hint and disappeared.

  “Of course,” said Josh, and then called, “James, hang on.” Back to Monty, he asked, “You want Max here?”

  Monty looked pleased at this, so Josh called out, “OK. James, can you dash round to Nancy’s Nursery, see if Max Tann is still there?”

  James poked his head into the kitchen again.

  Josh continued quietly, “Ask him to drop back in? Then can you look after the shop ’til we’re done here? Call me if you need.”

  “Righto, Mr Nunt, no problem. Nice to m-meet you Mr Stump.”

  “Likewise, James.”

  As the boy went to the front, Josh said, “He’s a good lad, is James.”

  “I can see that.” Agreed Monty. And they both said it just loud enough to let the boy overhear.

  “I need to ask,” Monty then said, getting straight to the point. “Nobody has put Mr Fairly Fullon to rights about anything, have they?”

  “You mean about you and him?”

  “I mean since the exposure of the cheating inside the pinball machine came to light. Has anybody taken him on, confronted him about his cheating? I need to be absolutely sure.” Said Monty.

  “No. As far as I know, nobody’s ever taken him to task. We just all grew up and went our separate ways. Know what I mean? The less said the better for all of us, any road.”

  Then Josh realised the omission in what he had said. Pretending the free scores, legal or otherwise that everybody wanted from Fullon were never really happening, meant not noticing that anybody was actually getting burnt by him.

  “Except you, of course,” he added. “It was people like you who were paying for it all. Paying for us, and him. We were the lucky ones. We just ran home and counted our blessings – rather than look at what was really going on – we pretended nothing was happening.

  “Any road... When it all finished and still nothing happened, we just... We just ended up believing our own stories, I guess. Easy as that, really.

  “And now there’s a new club on Frisbee Crescent,” Josh continued. “How that happened I’m not sure, but it’s a Youth Centre run by a bunch of left footed do-gooders. They sweep up the kids that might be troublesome. That means nothing much happens these days really. Life’s not what it used to be, any road. I think old Fairly just couldn’t face organised competition. Not after his big undoing. He just shut up shop,” finished Josh. “Any road,” he added.

  “Right.” Said Monty. “Living on whatever revenue he’s still got coming in and nothing new adding to it. You agree?”

  In came Max. Josh made room for him and said, “We’re trying to determine what Fearless Fullon is living on.”

  “He’s a shyster. Moonshine and poppycock. Who knows! But whatever it is, it’s probably dwindling.”

  “Evidence. What evidence?” asked Monty hopefully.

  “We never see him,” supplied Max, “that’s got to be the best evidence. And I’ll tell you what else. The party shop next door, The Bottle of Fun. Used to be his favourite suppliers. They never see him, now. They’re so desperate, they’re breathing the air they put in last year’s balloons.”

  “Agreed. Very true.” Said Josh, “I was just saying we think he’s living on whatever arrangements he has still going. Like whatever he won from Monty.”

  This idea hung heavily. Nobody spoke. The two local boys now remembered the full import of Monty’s position and what he had lost to Fairly Fullon. They both thought of the savage blow it would have meant to his family.

  “You been home now?” asked Josh, knowing Monty had left to go there.

  “Yes. Yes, I have.”

  “How did that go?” Josh watched Monty’s eyes very carefully.

  “Better than I expected,” Monty said, grinning.

  The other two nodded sagely, wondering how a day of reckoning like that could possibly have gone well.

  “I broke the news that it was all a swindle.”

  “Ah! Now that would explain the ‘going well’ bit,” suggested Josh.

  “So, now what?” Asked Max. “Your old man going to sue Fullon? He can get it all back, can’t he? Be like a dog going for a bone - pardon to your cooking, Josh!”

  “Not immediately.”

  “What’s that mean? Why not” Josh asked.

  “He’s caught like a fly in a web now you’re back, what’s the holdup?” boomed Max.

  “Yeah, we know that,” parried Monty, “but think. All that legal stuff takes time. A lot of high-priced lawyers, getting all the witnesses – if they’re willing, if they can be found, preferably in quantity – getting the actual pinball machine and the rats? Probably impossible. He’d have broken it up by now for sure - unless he’s sentimental - but the rats are most likely dead.”

  The other two stared at him. He continued, “I didn’t exactly say all that to Dad. He’s dead set keen on pursuing the matter. Wants to fire up his lawyers immediately. But I don’t see a good outcome. If it boils down to our word against his, it may be tricky. And any win would probably
make the lawyers rich and us as much the loser as Fullon. I mean, after all of that, what if he simply can’t pay?”

  Long pause. Then, “You told him all that?” Asked Max.

  “No, I said I didn’t. I asked him to wait.” Replied Monty.

  “Why? Asked Josh. “What will that achieve?”

  “I think,” said Monty slowly, “a lot could be achieved.”

  Both look at Monty, waiting.

  “OK, look. Fullon is sitting there in his ivory tower, and he thinks he’s got away with it. Yes?”

  “Yes,” came from Josh.

  “Well, I really don’t want to put Dad through all that. I want to do something myself.”

  “Ah!” Said Josh,

  “Ah! Ha Haa!” Said Max.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Said Josh.

  “You want to take him down!” cried Max as if playfully discovering Monty’s secret. “Revenge!” He lunged at Josh in a pretend attack.

  Josh said, speculatively, “Is this why you came back? To level the score?”

  “No, no, no. I’m long past that sort of thing. In fact, I never really considered the rights or wrong of our Mr Fairly Fullon at any time so much as what the hell I was doing. For me, it was all about me. So, no,” Monty went on, “I never even thought about that. Leastways, not like that. No, it’s something else.”

  There was another pause before Josh said, “We’re listening.”

  “Well... I’ve got a plan that I thought would be fun. And that came about because - Um, well, it’s really crazy, I suppose. But he’s got something I want.”

  “Fullon?” Asked Max, “Fullon’s got something you want? That’s not surprising. He’s got a house full of stuff, and he owns your lot!”

  Hang on,” ventured Josh, “This is why you came back. He’s got something really, really valuable, and if you get that, you’ve settled the score. Is that it?”

  “No. Actually, I could make what I want. Save an awful lot of hassle. Make it myself! But I just thought if I could get his, it would - I just... At least deprive him of it... Well, yeah, I want his. Simple as that.”