Million Pound Appointments Read online

  Ken turns to tear into Larry but notices he's gone.

  "Have we?" Asks Craig.

  Ken shoots him a look.

  Larry makes his way back to his room. He looks at the stone cold water in the bath, and decides he needs to punish himself. Punish himself for placing gentle Rajeev into Ken's clutches. He strips off, gets into the bath, and shivers there for over two hours.

  Ken walks back into the bedroom at 03:06 and starts to undress as quietly has he can, which isn't very quiet at all. Jane half wakes. He freezes, and waits a few moments for her to go back to sleep. He gets down to his underpants and she wakes.

  "Have the catnappers got Bonny?"

  "Who?"

  "Bonny. You know I like her to sleep at the end of the bed when you're not here."

  "Do you mean that ugly overgrown poodle?"

  "Shhh, she might hear you Ken."

  Ken drops his shoulders and lets out a huge sigh; he's completely forgotten to get Amir to bring Bonny and Clyde back to life now that he has his powers back.

  "I've got to go somewhere." He says.

  He gets up and puts a dressing gown on.

  "Go somewhere? You better be joking, you've only just got back."

  "No. Trust me, you'll thank me for it later."

  "Kenny." Jane shouts. "Get in this bed right now." She insists.

  He leaves the room.

  "You bastard." She shouts. Followed by "Bonny, Bonny love, come here baby, come to mummy."

  Ken walks back into the bedroom at 03:56 having just spent the last fifty minutes, collecting Bonny and Clyde, plonking them down at Amir's feet, and being told that too much time had elapsed and they can't be brought back to life. Ken then had to ring a man called Magic, who's rather good at making things disappear, namely, a much loved Birman cat, and 'One of the family' large breed black poodle. Although nearly an hour has gone by since Ken left the bedroom, time has no meaning during the hours of 3am and 4am, so a sleepy Jane simply carries on where she left off.

  "Have they got Bonny or not? I want to know Ken."

  Ken is shocked that she's still awake. He takes his dressing gown off.

  "Oh, you're awake?"

  "Have they?" She shouts.

  "Yeah they have, is that okay?"

  "She doesn't normally get on with Clyde. They better be all right." She says.

  "They're fine, go back to sleep."

  "I mean it Ken. Indians eat dogs you know."

  "No they don't it's the chinks that eat dogs, Indians worship them."

  "Yeah? Well they better worship Bonny and Clyde or they'll be worshiping me for the rest of their lives."

  "Go to sleep, they haven't eaten your dog ok." Says Ken as he thinks of a little joke. "They tried to but they couldn't get the fucker in the oven."

  Jane desperately doesn't want to laugh but can't help herself. Ken starts to slowly shadow box a life-sized bronze statue of Chris Eubank; Ken's favourite boxer. He met him on several occasions, never to talk to though, just watched in awe as he sparred and prepared for his fights. Ken shadow boxes Chris most nights to unwind. He starts bobbing and weaving and throwing air punches. Jane opens her eyes and watches Ken shadow box with Eubank. She's thinking how much she enjoyed the game they played on the way home in the car and wants more. They used to role-play all the time, especially when it came to sex. Doctors and Nurses, Prostitute and Businessman, her favourite was being raped by an intruder because that was the most authentic game they played. Ken really used to get into that one because it was his favourite too. The only downside of that particular game was Jane being left black and blue all over, rope burns on her ankles and wrists, and a sore throat where she had to endure a cloth forced into her mouth stopping her from screaming.

  "I'm wide awake now because of all your comings and goings."

  Ken has no idea the starting pistol for a new game has just been fired. She pauses for a few seconds. "I'm never going to get back to sleep… do you fancy sex?" She's off and running.

  Even with her back to Ken in a dimly lit room at 4am and not expecting it, he's instantly picked up on the tone in her voice and knows another game is on. He counters with…

  "Not really bothered." As he gives Chris a right uppercut.

  Even with her back to Ken in a dimly lit room at 4am she knows Ken has found her out and he's up and running and catching up fast.

  "I was just thinking a good orgasm might help me get back to sleep."

  "Nah, have you seen the time?" He says dismissively.

  Jab jab left hook body punch.

  She knows what Ken likes. She knows he likes to hear her talk dirty.

  "I just thought I could lay here with my legs open and you could go down on me."

  "It's four in the morning girl; I don't think I can be asked."

  Left hook right hook jab uppercut.

  She's dying to look over and see if she's having any obvious effect; if he's becoming erect.

  "I'm already soaking wet so you could just ram it straight up me."

  "Is that right?" He says as Eubank has to cover up against the ropes.

  She just manages to stop herself from laughing.

  "Yeah I was fingering myself earlier."

  The referee takes a closer look at Chris; he may have to stop the fight.

  "Well if that's what you really want, you only have to ask."

  But the game is for her not to ask. This game is to get Ken so worked up he'll dive on her and ravish her. It's a game she's really good at too; a one hundred per cent record so far. But they haven't played their games for at least two years, and neither of them knows why. She's wondering if she's still got it.

  "And just before you come you could pull out and I'll quickly turn around and you can finish off all over my breasts."

  "But then you'd have to get up and wash."

  Eubank takes a standing eight count.

  "No I wouldn't." She says knowing she's about to keep her hundred per cent record. "I'd smear it all over my fingers and lick it off."

  And with that Chris hits the canvas, and Jane feels both ankles being firmly gripped and her legs forced apart.

  "I hope for your sake you are soaking wet girl." He says wildly.

  Ken gets on top of her and in one move is inside her. Jane is still playing the game.

  "When you're nearly there, why don't you stand up and…"

  "Shut up woman you've won, I'm fucking you aint I?"

  "Oh is that what you're doing? I thought you were having a fit."

  At 4.37am, Ken very quietly gets up and leaves the bedroom. He pushes the bedroom door slightly open to make sure Jane didn't wake up, and then starts to dial on a mobile phone.

  A telephone ringing makes Marcus Wiseman sit up in his bed. He rubs his eyes and squints trying to focus on his watch. He looks for his glasses, but without them he can't find them. He picks up the telephone.

  "Marcus?" A voice asks.

  "Who is this? What time is it?" Says Mr Wiseman.

  "It's Ken, and it's about half four in the morning. Are you still an agent?"

  "Ken? Ken who?" Asks Marcus, trying to think if he knows a Ken.

  "Ken… Kenny."

  "Do I know you?"

  He pushes the door slightly open again to make sure Jane is still asleep.

  "I should fucking hope so. I'm married to your daughter."

  Not even trying to hide the disappointment in his voice Marcus says…

  "Oh, that Ken."

  "Only if you are, I need your help."

  "Is Jane all right?"

  "What? Yes she's fine. I'm trying not to wake her up."

  "Wake her up? Why, what's wrong with her?"

  "What? Nothing's wrong with her, will you shut up for a minute."

  "Does she know you're calling me?"

  "What? No. Shut up, it's not about Jane."

  "Good, because nothing's changed even if she did know you were calling me… So she doesn't then?"

  "No. Will you pl
ease just shut the fuck up, it's not about that. I want to ask you if …"

  But Marcus continues to drone on and on and Ken knows he'll just have to let him get it out of his system, even though he's heard Marcus doing the same silly little voice a hundred and one times before.

  "Muuuum… dad was in bed with Aunty Betty and she had daddy's pee-pee in her mouth."

  Ken also knows there is a key change in Marcus's voice as he lowers it to almost a whisper, as though that somehow helps to stamp home the point.

  "My life's been a complete misery since little Miss run-and-tell, ran and told. An absolute misery I'll be glad when Miriam's dead, and that's not right; wanting your own wife dead."

  The bed Marcus is sitting up in slightly moves as Miriam rolls on her side. As Marcus looks at her to make sure she's still asleep, he takes the mobile away from his ear and doesn't hear Ken ask the same question three times. The first time quite calmly. The second, had a bit of anger in it. The third, was quite aggressive. Now that Marcus has reassured himself that Miriam is still asleep, he puts the phone back to his ear to hear the fourth version.

  "I'll cut your fucking balls off if you don't answer me." He says through gritted teeth. "Have you still got loads of showbiz pals or not?"

  "Good god man, calm down. I've got a few artistes on my books; I don't know if I'd call any of them pals though. Why?"

  "You got any A-list ones?"

  "Well that depends on what you call A-list. Anything seems to go these days, even Big Brother winners can demand five figure sums."

  "I want ill or dying ones." Ken says quickly.

  "You want ill or dying A-listers? Is that meant to be funny? Only it's not."

  "Marcus, you should know me by now. I don't do funny at half four in the morning. They don't actually have to be at deaths door, just halfway up the path heading for the doorbell will do."

  "Kenneth?"

  "What?"

  "What's in this for me my boy?"

  Chapter 4.

  Ken Rajeev and Amir, are waiting outside the library. The conversation is somewhat low-key to say the least. This threesome isn't a good mix. Larry and Craig come out of the library.

  "Nervous boss?" Asks a naive Craig.

  Ken stands up straight and opens his arms.

  "Do I look like the type of man who suffers from nerves to you?"

  "I only meant because it's your first customer."

  "Client not customer. I'm not a fishmonger."

  "No. Sorry boss."

  Ken rubs his hands together. He's raring to go.

  "So, what's she like then? Is she famous?" He asks with a let's get ready to rumble smile on his face.

  Larry and Craig give each other a worried look. The smile and enthusiasm drain from Ken's face. Ken pushes past them and walks into the library and is confronted by a one-legged woman in her early 40's sitting on the sofa holding an artificial leg. Using just a look, Ken tells Larry to get Rajeev and Amir out of the room because they won't be needed after all. The woman smiles and sits forward…

  "Hello. You must be Kenny? I'm Heather…"

  Before she can introduce herself properly, Ken cuts in; he just needs to clarify something that’s niggling him about her…

  "I hope to buggery someone hasn't told you you're going to get your fucking leg back woman."

  "Well yes. Mr Wiseman did. He said he'd explained everything to you."

  "No… he told me you had a little leg problem, so I thought he was sending me a crippled spastic or something."

  "A what?" She asks not believing her own ears.

  "He left out the bit about you only having fifteen digits to count on."

  "I am in the right place aren't I?"

  "No. You want the circus up the road."

  "But he said you had a miracle worker who could do anything."

  "A miracle worker?" Ken shouts trying to hold his temper in. "I doubt if Jesus himself could help you girl. Put that fucking stump away before I throw up."

  The woman becomes very self-conscious of her missing half-leg and covers it.

  "You can't help me then?" She asks.

  "You've got a fucking leg missing girl, of course I can't." He shouts in frustration. He looks at Craig. "Get her out of here." Craig walks forward and grabs hold of the woman's arm as she tries to attach her false leg. He lifts her up off the sofa making her hop up and down.

  "Come on you." He says. "Your parrot's probably getting hungry?"

  Ken just watches them and shakes his head. He'll have to have words with Marcus. Ken sits down very depressed. Craig and the woman leave the room. He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead.

  "What a total waste of time that was." He says to himself.

  After a few seconds Craig comes back into the room.

  "Who's that singer in that group boss? They did all those songs.

  "Complete waste of time." Ken says to himself again.

  "William's-sixty-four. I can buy her love. Hey-Dude."

  Ken is in a world of his own and isn't really listening to Craig.

  "I don't want one-legged nobodies." Sighs Ken. "I want your filthy-rich has-beens, your Jimmy Tarbucks your Barbara fucking Windsor's your mind-numbingly boring Noel Edmonds."

  "They were the first boy band. 1940's. Let-it-be. They were big during the war, I think."

  "You wait till I see that Marcus."

  Ken comes back into the moment and plays back Craig's prattling in his head.

  "Are you talking about the Beatles?"

  "That's the ones, what was their names boss?"

  "Do you want a fucking punch?"

  "I know the drummer's name. Coco."

  "Ringo… you clown."

  "That's him, Ringo the clown. Who were the other two boss?"

  The stuffing has so been knocked out of Ken that he can't be bothered to knock it out of Craig.

  "Jesus wept you really are an idiot aren't you. There were three others. George Harrison."

  "Nah, it's not him."

  "John Lennon."

  "That's the one. I think old stumpy there used to be his wife boss. She ripped him off good and proper at the Old Bailey. Millions. You should get her back, she's well loaded."

  It suddenly dawns on Ken why the woman looked so familiar. He thinks he's just told Heather Mills-McCartney to hop it.

  2nd Client.

  Ken Jane and Craig are sitting in front of a man with his back to them. The man bends down and presses play on a large out-of-date audio cassette player, and the theme tune from 'Top Hat' begins. The man starts doing an old-fashioned tap-dance routine. Jane and Ken nod politely. There is a large tartan bag, open and full of cash at Ken's feet. The man claps his hands and stops with a 'How's that' and takes a bow.

  "Sorry boss, who is he again?" Whispers Craig.

  "Marvellous." Says the out of breath man. "I never thought I'd ever dance that routine again. The last time I did that must have been forty, fifty years ago. Guess who taught me it?"

  He gestures to Ken Jane and Craig to guess. They all shrug their shoulders.

  "The one and only fabulous Fred Astaire."

  "What the bloke that eats Hamsters?" Craig asks.

  The man bursts into song, and begins to tap dance around the room singing at the top of his voice.

  "Who can take a sunrise, sprinkle it with dew."

  "Sprinkle it with what?" Whispers Craig.

  "Cover it with chocolate and a miracle or two, the candy man can, oh the candy man can, the candy man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good."

  Ken sighs and looks deadpan at Jane.

  "Who can take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh, soak it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie."

  Craig screws his face up.

  "Is he making this up, it's not an actual song is it?"

  "The candy man can, oh the candy man can, the candy man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good."

  "People wouldn't actually pay to see t
his sort of shit would they?" Says Ken.

  Jane winces because Ken's voice was a little loud and she's worried the man might hear him.

  "Shhh." She says.

  "The candy man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious, now you talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes."

  "Eat Dishes? Says Craig. "He is making this up. It's like a bloody kids song. He must be about ninety."

  Another wince from Jane.

  "Keep your voices down." She whispers then covers her mouth with her hand. "We'll have to put up with it for a little bit longer Ken, he has paid cash."

  Ken instantly bends down, zips up the tartan bag, and stands up.

  "I don't care if the fucker is a Sir now, he's not tap-dancing me to death."

  He nods to Craig to get up.

  "If you can catch the slimy old git, throw him out."

  Craig removes his jacket and looks for a chance to rugby tackle the man to the floor. His first attempt fails.

  The all singing all dancing man laughs as Craig falls on his backside.

  "I'm afraid my other Craig wouldn't be very impressed with that effort young man."

  Craig stands up and brushes himself down.

  "What other Craig, what the fuck are you on about?"

  The man starts to dance around Craig very closely, but every time Craig shoots an arm out to try to catch him, the man just shimmies a fraction of an inch away from his grip.

  "The candy man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious."

  The man stops dead in his tracks, turns to face Craig, and walks slowly towards him…

  "Now you talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes."

  Craig's never heard The Candy Man before, and doesn't want to hear it ever again. With scarcely a cigarette paper between their noses…

  "You are so going down." Whispers Craig.

  Forty-five minutes later and dripping with sweat, Craig leaves the man to it.

  Chapter 5.

  Ken is sitting at a table in a public house with Marcus Wiseman. A group of Ken's heavies are rolling slot machines into the pub and plugging them in. Craig has the landlord's head pinned down on the bar. The heavies finish installing the machines, help themselves to a bottle of spirits each, and walk out of the pub. Ken nods to Craig to bring the landlord over.